OpenLLM-France/wikimedia huggingface dataset:
# The Tricolour, Poems of the Irish Revolution/The Dead Soldier

THE DEAD SOLDIER
[IN MEMORY OF THOMAS ASHE]
Where the sword has opened the way the man will follow
“Look! they came, the triumphant army! Over yon hill see their weapons peeping!” Still I spoke not but my wheel sent turning, I closed my eyes for my heart was weeping, My heart was weeping for a dead soldier.
Who is he who looks towards me ? “'Tis no man but a gay flag flying,” Red was his mouth and his white brow thoughtful, Blue his eyes — how my soul is crying, My soul is crying for a dead soldier.
“Kneel ye down, lest your eyes should dare them, Kneel ye down and your beads be saying.” “Lord, on their heads Thy wrath deliver,” This is the prayer that my lips are praying, My heart is praying for a dead soldier.
“Best cheer the path of the men victorious, For he is dead and his blade lies broken, His march is far where no aid can follow, And for his people he left no token, He left no token, the dead soldier.”
The way of the sword a man can follow, See the young child with his gold hair gleaming. When falls the oak must the acorn perish? He lifts the blade and his eyes are dreaming, He dreams the dream of the dead soldier.
THE END
# The Tricolour, Poems of the Irish Revolution/Loud Shout the Flaming Tongues of War

LOUD SHOUT THE FLAMING TONGUES OF WAR
TA'N SIONAC AR SRAIDIB AG FAIRE GO CAOCRAC
Air—“The West's Asleep.”
Loud shout the flaming tongues of war. The cannon's thunder rolls afar While Empires tremble for their fall. Thou art alone amongst them all. Where is the friend who for thy sake Will on his sword thy freedom take? The son who holds thy right alone Above an Empire or a throne?
Ah, Grannia Wael, thy stricken head Is bowed in sorrow o'er thy dead, Thy dead who died for love of thee, Not for some foreign liberty. Shall we betray when hope is near, Our Motherland whom we hold dear,
To go to fight on foreign strand, For foreign rights and foreign land?
The Lion's fangs have sought to kill A Nation's soul, a Nation's will; From tooth and claw thy wounded breast Has held them safe, has held them blest. About thy head great eagles are, They fly with scream and storm of war, Their shadows fall, we do not know If they be friend,—if they be foe.
For Lion's roar we have no fears, We fought him down the restless years. We watch the Eagles in the sky, Lest they should land—or pass us by. But, yet beware! the Lion goes To strike our friends—to charm our foes. By hamlet small, by hill and dale The creeping foe is on our trail;
His face is kind, his voice is bland, He prates of faith and fatherland; Shall we go forth to die and die For Belgium's tear, and Serbia's sigh? Oh, Volunteers, through field and town
He seeks his prey, he tracks thee down His voice is soft, his words are fair, It is the creeping foe, Beware!
Ah, Grannia Wael, in blood and tears We fought thy battles through the years, That thou shouldst live we're glad to die In prison cell or gallows high. Oh, cursed be he ! who to our shame Drives forth thy manhood in thy name, O, WHILE THE LION LAPS YOUR BLOOD SHALL WE UNITE IN SERVITUDE.
# The Tricolour, Poems of the Irish Revolution/Sick I Am and Sorrowful

SICK I AM AND SORROWFUL
Sick I am and sorrowful, how can I be well again Here, where fog and darkness are, and big guns boom all day, Practising for evil sport? If you speak humanity, Hatred comes into each face, and so you cease to pray.
How I dread the sound of guns, hate the bark of musketry, Since the friends I loved are dead, all stricken by the sword. Full of anger is my heart, full of rage and misery; How can I grow well again, or be my peace restored?
If I were in Glenmalure, or in Enniskerry now, Hearing of the coming spring in the pinetree's song;
If I woke on Arran Strand, dreamt me on the cliffs of Moher, Could I not grow gay again, should I not be strong?
If I stood with eager heart on the heights of Carrantuohill, Beaten by the four great winds into hope and joy again, Far above the cannons' roar or the scream of musketry, If I heard the four great seas, what were weariness or pain?
Were I in a little town, Ballybunion, Ballybrack, Laughing with the children there, I would sing and dance once more, Heard again the storm clouds roll hanging over Lugnaquilla, Built dream castles from the sands of Killiney's golden shore.
If I saw the wild geese fly over the dark lakes of Kerry Or could hear the secret winds, I could kneel and pray.
But 'tis sick I am and grieving, how can I be well again Here, where fear and sorrow are—my heart so far away?
# The Tricolour, Poems of the Irish Revolution/The Foe

THE FOE
My foe did strike me, Lord, I am not meek, I cannot turn to him the other cheek, Rather to Thee for vengeance do I cry, Tooth for a tooth, dear Lord, eye for an eye.
Had he but felled me, giving blow for blow, My rage had little flame, my hate were slow, I could forgive stood he to me alone, But through those dearer souls he reached my own.
Oh, brave heads slain, grey locked and darkly brown, I saw you bleed beneath the martyr's crown, Dear eyes that closed on unfulfilled desire, I saw you robbed of your celestial fire.
Pale lips that cried one prayer in parting breath, I knew you dumb in silence and in death. My foe hath struck me, Lord, I am not meek, I cannot turn to him the other cheek.
# The Tricolour, Poems of the Irish Revolution/Kathleen's Lover

KATHLEEN'S LOVER
I would I had a thousand tongues To sing thy praise, to sing thy praise, I'd teach the birds on ev'ry tree To chorus the sweet melody, For all my days, for all my days. I wish I had a thousand tongues To curse thy foe, to curse thy foe, Fd pray each stormy wind and wave His house to break, his ship to stave, To lay him low, to lay him low.
I wish I had a thousand hearts To love thee more, to love thee more, Lest one should break before thy tears Let others come to hush thy fears And thee adore, and thee adore. I wish I had a thousand hearts To hate thy foe, to hate thy foe. Lest one should dare in pity turn Let others still with vengeance burn To lay him low, to lay him low.
I wish I had a thousand hands To work for thee, to work for thee, To bring thee fairest fruit and flower, To pluck for thee God's golden hour, To set thee free, to set thee free. I wish I had a thousand hands To strike thy foe, to strike thy foe, I'd track him without rest or sleep, My arm were strong, my thrust were deep To lay him low, to lay him low.
I wish I had a thousand lives For thee to live, for thee to live. In foreign lands in ev'ry state My days, my years, to make thee great Fd freely give, so freely give. I wish I had a thousand lives To thee to fly, to thee to fly; To praise, to strive, to fight, to fall, And on thy name and God to call, For thee to live, for thee to die.
# The Tricolour, Poems of the Irish Revolution/Kittie's Toys

KITTIE'S TOYS
A CHILD'S SONG
[WRITTEN FOR KATHLEEN]
I wish I had a soldier, a soldier, a soldier, I wish I had a soldier to fight for love of me Marie has a soldier, a soldier, a soldier, Marie has a soldier, a gallant man is he.
I wish I had a bright flag, a gay flag, a dear flag, I would love a fair flag to fly in liberty, Gretchen has a big flag, a brave flag, a strong flag, Gretchen has a fine flag that floats all high and free.
I wish I had a small ship, a strong ship, a good ship, I would love a trim ship to sail upon the sea.
Johnny has a big ship, a grey ship, a grand ship, Johnny took my small ship with all his big navie.
I wish I had a penny, a penny, a penny, I wish I had a penny that all belonged to me, I would build a fair house, a great house, a strong house, I would make one grand house for all the world to see.
But Johnny stole my penny, my penny, my penny, And Johnny took my bright flag that floated fair and free, Then Johnny had my small ship, my trim ship, my good ship, And Johnny broke my soldier that fought for liberty.
Now John would be my soldier, my soldier, my soldier, But John he is a greedy boy, a selfish boy is he;
And Johnny beats the wee ones, the small ones, the weak ones, He takes their playthings from them in the name of liberty.
When Johnny gets a whacking, a whacking, a whacking, When Johnny gets a whacking, I think he'll let me be, And I shall have my penny, my penny, my penny, And I shall buy a bright flag to wave in victory.
# The Tricolour, Poems of the Irish Revolution/The Choice

THE CHOICE
This Consul Casement—he who heard the cry Of stricken people—and who in his fight To lift the torture load from broken men, And shield sad women from eternal night, Went through lone, hot, and fevered foreign lands.
For doomed Casement, slaves that he raised up Pray with strong voices, so a wide world hears. Men saved from anguish, women saved from shame, He dried your children's tears! He gave you life—for him lift pleading hands.
Sir Roger Casement; honoured for his years Of stress and struggle, of fatigue and work, What is the claim of his frail human needs For arduous hours he did not shun nor shirk, A King's reward, a royal friendliness!
For honoured Casement titles and renown, A future great with promise, all life's page Writ in gold letters, and a path so soft One could not hear the coming of old age To point an honoured tomb that nations bless.
Ah ! Irish Casement, in the roar of war That stung his blood and whipped his manhood's fire, What did he hear upon red shaken earth, Where little nations struggle and expire? Some banshee cry upon the hot wind thrills!
And Roger Casement—he who freed the slave, Made sad babes smile and tortured women hope, Flung all aside, King's honours and great years, To take for finis here a hempen rope, And banshee cries upon far Irish hills.
# The Story of Evolution

1912.
* Preface
* Chapter I. The Discovery of the Universe
* Chapter II. The Foundations of the Universe
* Chapter III. The Birth and Death of Worlds
* Chapter IV. The Preparation of the Earth
* Chapter V. The Beginning of Life
* Chapter VI. The Infancy of the Earth
* Chapter VII. The Passage to the Land
* Chapter VIII. The Coal-Forest
* Chapter IX. The Animals of the Coal-Forest
* Chapter X. The Permian Revolution
* Chapter XI. The Middle Ages of the Earth
* Chapter XII. The Age of Reptiles
* Chapter XIII. The Bird and the Mammal
* Chapter XIV. In the Days of the Chalk
* Chapter XV. The Tertiary Era
* Chapter XVI. The Flower and the Insect
* Chapter XVII. The Origin of Our Mammals
* Chapter XVIII. The Evolution of Man
* Chapter XIX. Man and the Great Ice-Age
* Chapter XX. The Dawn of Civilisation
* Chapter XXI. Evolution in History
This work is in the public domain in the United States because it was published before January 1, 1929.
The longest-living author of this work died in 1955, so this work is in the public domain in countries and areas where the copyright term is the author's life plus 68 years or less. This work may be in the public domain in countries and areas with longer native copyright terms that apply the rule of the shorter term to foreign works.
Public domainPublic domainfalsefalse
# The Story of the Gadsbys

page
THE
STORY OF THE GADSBYS
A TALE WITHOUT A PLOT
BY
AUTHOR OF "SOLDIERS THREE," "WEE WILLIE WINKIE," ETC.
PUBLISHED BY Messrs. A. H. WHEELER & CO. ALLAHABAD
SAMPSON LOW, MARSTON, SEARLE, & RIVINGTON Ld St. Dunstan's House FETTER LANE, LONDON, E.C.
page
PREFACE.
To the address of CAPTAIN J. MAFFLIN Duke of Derry's (Pink) Hussars.
Dear Mafflin,
You will remember that I wrote this story as an Awful Warning. None the less you have seen fit to disregard it, and have followed Gadsby's example—as I betted you would. I acknowledge that you paid the money at once, but you have prejudiced the mind of Mrs. Maffiin against myself; for though I am almost the only respectable friend of your bachelor days, she has refused my card to me throughout the season. Further, she caused you to invite me to dinner at the Club, where you called me "a wild ass of the desert," and went home at half-past ten, after discoursing for twenty minutes on the responsibilites of house-keeping. You now drive a mail-phaeton and sit under a Church of England clergyman. I am not angry, Jack. It is your fate, as it was Gaddy's, and his fate who can avoid? Do not think that I am moved by a spirit of revenge as I write, thus publicly, that you and you alone are responsible for this book. In other and more expansive days, when you could look at a magnum without flushing and at a cheroot without turning white, you supplied me with most of the material. Take it back again would that I could have preserved your fetterless ​speech in the telling—take it back, and by your slippered hearth read it to the late Miss Deercourt. She will not be any the more willing to receive my cards, but she will admire you immensely, and you, I feel sure, will love me. You may even invite me to another very bad dinner at the Club, which as you and your wife know, is a safe neutral ground for the entertainment of wild asses. Then, my very dear hypocrite, we shall be quits.
Yours always, RUDYARD KIPLING.
P.S.—On second thoughts I should recommend you to keep the book away from Mrs. Mafflin.
page
CONTENTS.
page
Layout 2
This work is in the public domain in the United States because it was published before January 1, 1929.
The longest-living author of this work died in 1936, so this work is in the public domain in countries and areas where the copyright term is the author's life plus 87 years or less. This work may be in the public domain in countries and areas with longer native copyright terms that apply the rule of the shorter term to foreign works.
Public domainPublic domainfalsefalse
# The Story of the Gadsbys/Advert

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PURIFIER OF THE HUMAN BLOOD.
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SUCH AS
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WILL BY TAKING THIS
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Soon find relief, and ultimately a cure. It is asserted by those who take a little daily that the system becomes less liable to attacks of illness of all kinds.
The best remedy against "prickly heat".
"We cannot speak too highly of it."—Lancet.
The late Lord Clyde, writing for Wilkinson's Sarsaparilla, says: "I am never without it, for, when feeling depressed or out of sorts, from anxiety and fatigue, a dose or two animates me."
"Your Essence of Red Jamaica Sarsaparilla cured me of a Torpid Liver when all other remedies failed."—Earl of Aldborough.
BEWARE OF IMITATIONS ! ! !
Which are worthless, and some injurious.
Ask for Wilkinson's Essence of Red Jamaica Sarsaparilla, and take no other. The genuine has the Trade Mark as above on the Labels, Wrappers, and Crates.
AGENTS IN ALL THE PRINCIPAL TOWNS OF INDIA.
Established at 270 Regent St., London, W., since 1829.
Layout 2
# The Story of the French Revolution/Advertisements

Other Labor News Publications
Woman under Socialism
Translated from the Original German of the 33rd Edition of August Bebel By Daniel De Leon.
The complete emancipation of woman, and her complete equality with man is the final goal of our social development, whose realization no power on earth can prevent; — and this realization is possible only by a social change that shall abolish the rule of man over man — hence also of capitalists over workingmen. Only then will the human race reach its highest development. The "Golden Age" that man has been dreaming of for thousands of years, and after which they have been longing, will have come at last. Class rule will have reached its end for all time, and along with it, the rule of man over woman.
Contents: Woman in the Past; Woman in the Present; Woman in the Future; Internationality; Population and Over-Population.
Cloth Bound, 400 pages, $2.00
New York Labor News Co., :
| 45 Rose St. | New York |
Franz von Sickingen
Translated by Deniel De Leon :
| "With a majestic historic settings, draped in poetic elegance, and planted upon a pedestal of golden maxims that converge upwards, and illumine the principle itself, 'Franz von Sickingen' raises in thrilling yet statuesque solemnity the principle — not merely to have a purpose firm, but also dare to make it known." — De Leon. ||
| Beautifully decorated cloth cover, $1.00 ||
| New York Labor News Co. ||
| 45 Rose Street | New York City |
# The Wheels of Chance: A Bicycling Idyll/Chapter 25

XXV
Mr. Hoopdriver conducted the rest of that night's journey with the same confident dignity as before, and it was chiefly by good luck and the fact that most roads about a town converge thereupon, that Chichester was at last attained. It seemed at first as though everyone had gone to bed, but the Red Hotel still glowed yellow and warm. It was the first time Hoopdriver had dared the mysteries of a 'first-class' hotel. But that night he was in the mood to dare anything.
"So you found your Young Lady at last," said the ostler of the Red Hotel; for it chanced he was one of those of whom Hoopdriver had made inquiries in the afternoon.
"Quite a misunderstanding," said Hoopdriver, with splendid readiness. "My sister had gone to Bognor But I brought her back here. I've took a fancy to this place. And the moonlight's simply dee-vine."
"We've had supper, thenks, and we're tired," said Mr. Hoopdriver. "I suppose you won't take anything,—Jessie?"
​The glory of having her, even as a sister! and to call her Jessie like that! But he carried it off splendidly, as he felt himself bound to admit. "Good-night, Sis," he said, "and pleasant dreams. I'll just 'ave a look at this paper before I turn in." But this was living indeed! he told himself.
So gallantly did Mr. Hoopdriver comport himself up to the very edge of the Most Wonderful Day of all. It had begun early, you will remember, with a vigil in a little sweetstuff shop next door to the Angel at Midhurst. But to think of all the things that had happened since then! He caught himself in the middle of a yawn, pulled out his watch, saw the time was half-past eleven, and marched off, with a fine sense of heroism, bedward.
# The Widow at Her Daughter's Bridal

* information about this edition.
* sister projects: Wikidata item.
Printed in Martin, Benjamin Nicholas. Choice specimens of American literature, & literary reader, being selections from the chief American writers. New York,: Sheldon & co., [1875].
DEAL gently, thou whose hand hath won
 The young bird from its nest away,
Where, careless,'neath a vernal sun,
 She gayly carolled day by day;
The haunt is lone, the heart must grieve,
 From where her timid wing doth soar
They pensive lisp at hush of eve,
 Yet hear her gushing song no more.
Deal gently with her; thou art dear,
 Beyond what vestal lips have told,
And, like a lamb from fountains clear,
 She turns, confiding, to thy fold.
She round thy sweet, domestic bower
 The wreath of changeless love shall twine,
Watch for thy step at vesper hour,
 And blend her holiest prayer with thine.
Deal gently, thou, when, far away,  'Mid stranger scenes her foot shall rove,
Nor let thy tender care decay;
 The soul of woman lives in love.
And shouldst thou, wondering, mark a tear,
 Unconscious, from her eyelids break,
Be pitiful, and soothe the fear
 That man's strong heart may ne'er partake.
A mother yields her gem to thee,
 On thy true breast to sparkle rare;
She places'neath thy household tree
 The idol of her fondest care;
And, by thy trust to be forgiven
 When judgment wakes in terror wild,
By all thy treasured hopes of heaven,
 Deal gently with the widow's child.
This work was published before January 1, 1929, and is in the public domain worldwide because the author died at least 100 years ago.
Public domainPublic domainfalsefalse
# The Widow's Party

* "The Widow's Party" in Ballads and Barrack-Room Ballads (1892)
* "The Widow's Party" in Departmental Ditties and Ballads and Barrack-Room Ballads (1919)
# The Widow and Her Little Maidens

* related authors: Aesop.
* sister projects: Wikidata item.
Perry index 55
* "A Woman and her Maids", translated by Roger L'Estrange, in Fables of Æsop and Other Eminent Mythologists (1692)
* "The Widow and her Little Maidens", translated by George Fyler Townsend, in Three Hundred Æsop's Fables (1867)
* "The Mistress And Her Servants", translated by Vernon Stanley Jones, in Æsop's fables: A New Translation (1912)
This work was published before January 1, 1929, and is in the public domain worldwide because the author died at least 100 years ago.
Public domainPublic domainfalsefalse
# The Widow

* Search for titles containing or beginning with: "The Widow."
* sister projects: Wikidata item.
This is a disambiguation page. It lists works that share the same title. If an article link referred you here, please consider editing it to point directly to the intended page.
* "The Widow", a play by John Fletcher and Thomas Middleton
* "The Widow", a short story by Washington Irving
* "The Widow", a song by Allan Ramsay
* "The Widow", a poem by Robert Southey
# The Widow's Son

Norse fairy tale, Enkesønnen
* "Enkesønnen" in Folkeeventyr (1852).
* "The Widow's Son" from Popular Tales from the Norse, 1912.
* "The Widow's Son" in Christmas Fireside Stories: Norwegian Folk & Fairy Tales, 1923.
* "Enkesønnen, in Eventyr, 1928.
# The Widow (Irving)

* "The Widow", in Bracebridge Hall (1822)
* "The Widow", in The Perverse Widow and The Widow (1909)
# The Wife

* Search for titles containing or beginning with: "The Wife."
* sister projects: Wikipedia article, Wikidata item.
This is a disambiguation page. It lists works that share the same title. If an article link referred you here, please consider editing it to point directly to the intended page.
* The Wife (Dickinson), a poem by Emily Dickinson
* The Wife (Chekhov), a poem by Anton Chekhov
* The Wife (Whittier), a poem by John G. Whittier
* The Wife, a short story by Mary Stewart Cutting
# The Widow at Windsor

* "The Widow at Windsor" in Ballads and Barrack-Room Ballads (1892)
* "The Widow at Windsor" in Departmental Ditties and Ballads and Barrack-Room Ballads (1919)
# The Wife of his Youth and Other Stories of the Color Line, and Selected Essays
## Contents

* The Wife of His Youth
* Her Virginia Mammy
* The Sheriff's Children
* A Matter of Principle
* Cicely's Dream
* The Passing of Grandison
* Uncle Wellington's Wives
* The Bouquet
* The Web of Circumstance

## Appendix

Three Essays on the Color Line:
* What is a White Man? (1889)
* The Future American (1900)
* The Disfranchisement of the Negro (1903)
This work is in the public domain in the United States because it was published before January 1, 1929.
The longest-living author of this work died in 1932, so this work is in the public domain in countries and areas where the copyright term is the author's life plus 91 years or less. This work may be in the public domain in countries and areas with longer native copyright terms that apply the rule of the shorter term to foreign works.
Public domainPublic domainfalsefalse