bluuebunny/crossref_metadata_2025_split huggingface dataset:
Learning to See: Student Years
Authors: Bliss Michael 
Published: November 2023

Abstract
When Willie Osler entered Trinity College School in Weston in 1866, he was a happy-go-lucky sixteen-year-old. He liked hunting, sports, and fights with the day boys and villagers. Smallish – he had probably reached his adult height of five foot, five and three-quarter inches – but wiry and fit, he was a good athlete, known for the strength and accuracy of his throwing arm: ‘Last Friday I was coming up and the Roman Catholic school was standing about 80 yards from the road and I bet a boy I could throw and break a window. The other fellow threw and did not come near it ... Mine went through the window and struck one of the boys on the head, there was a terrible row about it but I went down to the old Priest and made it all right and put in the window.’
Willie took to the English-style discipline (a prefect system and liberal caning by the masters) of the newly founded Trinity College School; he liked his schoolmates, found headmaster Badgely ‘firstrate’ and the singing lessons and theatricals ‘such jolly fun.’ His mother disapproved of such ‘mummeries’ as being too worldly.
Sir William
Authors: Bliss Michael 
Published: November 2023

Abstract
Some of his American friends had cynically predicted that Osler would end up in England with a title. Regius professors were ideal candidates for honors, and soon after Osler arrived in Oxford the King’s physician, Sir William Broadbent, had told him that the wheels had been set in motion. Osler asked him to stop the wheels. ‘I was a stranger, regarded as an American, and it was hardly fair to give me any titular distinction in so early a period of my residence.’ He knew it would be said he was a title hunter. Broadbent died and Osler thought nothing more about titles. He was apparently taken by surprise in June 1911 to hear from Prime Minister H.H. Asquith that it was intended to confer a baronetcy on him in the honors list accompanying the coronation of George V.
‘What excuse are you going to give for declining it?’ Grace asked him. ‘You always have said you would.’
Introduction
Authors: Kenny Kevin 
Published: November 2023

Abstract
The Paxton Boys struck Conestoga Indiantown at dawn on December 14, 1763. “Fifty-seven Men, from some of our Frontier Townships, who had projected the Destruction of this little Commonwealth,” Benjamin Franklin wrote in his Narrative of the Late Massacres in Lancaster County, “came, all well-mounted, and armed with Firelocks, Hangers [a kind of short sword] and Hatchets, having travelled through the Country in the Night, to Conestogoe Manor.” Only six Indians were in the town at the time, “the rest being out among the neighbouring White People, some to sell the Baskets, Brooms and Bowls they manufactured.” The Paxton Boys, frontier militiamen on an unauthorized expedition, killed these six and burned their settlement to the ground.
Newcomers
Authors: Kenny Kevin 
Published: November 2023

Abstract
In April 1701 forty Indians from the lower Susquehanna Valley came to Philadelphia to make a treaty with William Penn. They were led by Connoodaghtoh, the “King of the Indians inhabiting upon and about the River Susquehannah.” About ten years earlier Connoodaghtoh had led a group of his Susquehannock Indians from Maryland back to their homelands on the Susquehanna River. They settled along Conestoga Creek, where they became known as the “Conestogas.” The Shawnees were represented in Philadelphia by their king, Opessah, who, like Connoodaghtoh, had recently returned from Maryland to Pennsylvania. Also at the conference was the Onondaga chief Ahookasoongh to represent the Iroquois confederacy, which claimed the Indian nations of the Susquehanna Valley as tributaries by right of conquest. The treaty signed in Philadelphia on April 23, 1701—the only surviving Indian treaty negotiated by William Penn—reiterated Pennsylvania’s commitment to nurture good relations with the Indians living in the province. Thus far in Pennsylvania’s history, the treaty stated, “there hath always been a Good Understanding & Neighbourhood” between Penn “and the several Nations of Indians.” Henceforth there would be “a firm & lasting Peace” between “the said William Penn, his Heirs & Successors, & all the English & other Christian Inhabitants of the said province . . . & all the severall People of the Nations of Indians aforesaid.” Pennsylvania’s Christians and Indians would “for ever hereafter be as one head & one heart, & live in true Friendship and Amity as one People.”
Pennsylvania Goes to War
Authors: Kenny Kevin 
Published: November 2023

Abstract
Before the French and Indian War Pennsylvania had made only one attempt to form a provincial militia. In 1747, during King George’s War, Benjamin Franklin organized an “Association” to defend Pennsylvania in the event of an attack by French-allied Indians. This volunteer force did not enjoy formal recognition from the government, it provided no pay, and the men elected their own officers. “Associators” in Lancaster County followed Franklin’s example, creating two voluntary military companies east and west of the Susquehanna River. Fears of an attack on Pennsylvania proved groundless, and the voluntary associations quickly disbanded.
Conestoga Indiantown
Authors: Kenny Kevin 
Published: November 2023

Abstract
Despite the efforts of the Paxton Boys and the Cumberland Boys, the Pennsylvania frontier was more exposed than ever by October 1763. Sir Jeffery Amherst wrote to James Hamilton emphasizing the threat to British imperial interests. The Delaware Indians, according to Sir William Johnson’s sources, were still intent on taking Forts Pitt and Augusta, which they regarded “as the greatest Eyesores to the Indians in those parts.” Having taken these forts, they would “proceed towards Philadelphia,” while the Ottawas, Hurons, and other Indians “would demolish Detroit and Niagara.” Given the magnitude of this threat, Amherst expressed his “Surprize at the infatuation of the People in your Province, who tamely look on while their Brethren are butchered by the Savages.”
Lancaster Workhouse
Authors: Kenny Kevin 
Published: November 2023

Abstract
On December 27 the Paxton Boys rode into Lancaster town in broad daylight. “A number of Persons to the amount (by their appearance), of fifty or Sixty, armed with Rifles, Tomahawks, &ca., suddenly, about Two o’Clock, rushed into the Town,” Sheriff John Hay wrote to John Penn that evening, “& immediately repaired to the Work House where the Indians were confined.” Brushing aside the sheriff and coroner, they “killed all Indians there, being the fourteen . . . to have survived the former Affair at their Town.” The victims consisted of three married couples and their eight children. The adults were Will Sock and Kanianguas (“Molly”), Kyunueagoah (“Captain John”) and Koweenasee (“Betty”), and Sasquieshattah (“John Smith”) and “Peggy” (Sheehay’s daughter). The children included “Chrisly” (Tongquas), the boy Rhoda Barber remembered as Chrislie, a playmate of her brothers. Eyewitnesses emphasized the brutality of the attack, including scalpings and systematic dismemberment.1
Mercenaries
Authors: Kenny Kevin 
Published: November 2023

Abstract
More than 2,000 representatives of the Iroquois, Delawares, Shawnees, and other Indian nations assembled at Fort Stanwix in New York at the end of October 1768. Sir William Johnson presided over the largest and most important Indian conference in American colonial history. Pennsylvania sent a high-powered delegation, including John Penn, Attorney-General Benjamin Chew, and former provincial secretary Richard Peters, whose knowledge of Pennsylvania’s land transactions was unrivaled. The governments of New Jersey and Virginia also sent delegates. The resulting treaty, signed on November 5 by representatives of each of the Six Nations, pushed the boundary set by royal proclamation in 1763 considerably to the west. The Iroquois received land in New York in return; the Delawares, Shawnees, and Mingoes of the Ohio country, who lived in the territory ceded by the Iroquois, had no say in the matter. In a separate transaction Thomas Penn paid the Six Nations£10,000 for all land in his province not previously deeded to the proprietary family. Under the terms of this “New Purchase,” he reacquired most of the Ohio country. Once again, the Indians who lived in the region were not consulted. After Fort Stanwix, European settlement formally penetrated beyond the Allegheny Mountains on a large and permanent scale.1
Revolutionaries
Authors: Kenny Kevin 
Published: November 2023

Abstract
By the outbreak of the American Revolution, Connecticut was firmly in control of the Wyoming Valley. The settlers established five towns there in the early 1770s. Wilkes-Barré (formerly Wyoming town), Hanover (originally known as Nanticoke, but renamed in Lazarus Stewart’s honor), and Pittstown stood on the east bank of the Susquehanna. Plymouth and Kingstown (where the settlers erected their strongest military outpost, Forty Fort) were on the west. Pennsylvania responded to the Connecticut threat by creating the county of Northumberland in 1772, hoping to consolidate its jurisdiction north of Fort Augusta. John Durkee countered this move the following year by sending another petition to Hartford seeking the creation of a county in the Wyoming Valley under Connecticut jurisdiction. Among the more than 220 signatories were the Paxton Boys Lazarus Stewart, William Stewart, and Lazarus Stewart Jr.
Red-Light Fever
Authors: Thompson Gordon 
Published: November 2023

Abstract
In the studio, separated from producers and engineers by a double pane of glass, the individuals whose voices, physical dexterity, and intuition realized 1960s British pop labored in the realm of performance. The social mechanisms that placed them in these recorded moments carefully calculated the most efficient ways to reap their talent and to maximize their value. Consequently, musicians could be the most celebrated individuals in the entire ecology and, sometimes, the most hidden. Their names, faces, and music often sold millions of records and concert seats, and yet, more often than not, performers ultimately garnered meager financial rewards.
Fulke Greville (1554–1628)
Authors: Bauer Mark S 
Published: November 2023

Abstract
from “Despair”
Who grace for zenith had,
From which no shadows grow, Who hath seen joy of all his hopes
And end of all his woe;
Whose love beloved hath been The crown of his desire,
Who hath seen sorrow’s glories burnt In sweet affection’s fire;
If from this heavenly state, Which souls with souls unites,
He be fallen down into the dark Despaired war of sprights;
Let him lament with me,
For none doth glory know,
That hath not been above himself, And thence fallen down to woe.
But if there be one hope
Left in his languished heart, If fear of worse, if wish of ease,
If horror may depart;
He plays with his complaints, He is no mate for me,
Whose love is lost, whose hopes are fled, Whose fears for ever be.
Thomas Lodge (1557–1625)
Authors: Bauer Mark S 
Published: November 2023

Abstract
Melancholy
The earth, late choked with showers, Is now arrayed in green;
Her bosom springs with flowers, The air dissolves her teen:
The heavens laugh at her glory, Yet bide I sad and sorry.
The woods are decked with leaves, And trees are clothed gay;
And Flora, crowned with sheaves, With oaken boughs doth play:
Where I am clad in black, The token of my wrack.
The birds upon the trees
Do sing with pleasant voices, And chant in their degrees
Their loves and lucky choices: When I, whilst they are singing, With sighs mine arms am wringing.
The thrushes seek the shade, And I my fatal grave;
Their flight to heaven is made, My walk on earth I have:
They free, I thrall; they jolly, I sad and pensive wholly.
John Milton (1608–1674)
Authors: Bauer Mark S 
Published: November 2023

Abstract
from “Samson Agonistes”
Samson:
All otherwise to me my thoughts portend,
That these dark orbs no more shall treat with light, Nor th’ other light of life continue long,
But yield to double darkness nigh at hand: So much I feel my genial spirits droop,
My hopes all flat, nature within me seems In all her functions weary of her self;
My race of glory run, and race of shame, And I shall shortly be with them that rest.
Manoa [Samson’s father]:
Believe not these suggestions which proceed From anguish of the mind and humours black, That mingle with thy fancy. I however
Must not omit a Fathers timely care
To prosecute the means of thy deliverance By ransom or how else: mean while be calm,
And healing words from these thy friends admit.
Samson:
O that torment should not be confin’d To the bodies wounds and sores
With maladies innumerable
In heart, head, brest, and reins; But must secret passage find To th’ inmost mind,
There exercise all his fierce accidents, And on her purest spirits prey,
As on entrails, joints, and limbs,
With answerable pains, but more intense, Though void of corporal sense.
My griefs not only pain me
Thomas Traherne (1636–1674)
Authors: Bauer Mark S 
Published: November 2023

Abstract
Solitude
How desolate!
Ah! how forlorn, how sadly did I stand When in the field my woful State
I felt! Not all the Land, Not all the Skies,
Tho Heven shin’d before mine Eys, Could Comfort yield in any Field to me,
Nor could my Mind Contentment find or see.
Remov’d from Town,
From People, Churches, Feasts, and Holidays, The Sword of State, the Mayor’s Gown,
And all the Neighb’ring Boys; As if no Kings
On Earth there were, or living Things, The silent Skies salute mine Eys, the Seas My Soul surround; no Rest I found, or Eas.
My roving Mind
Search’d evry Corner of the spacious Earth, From Sky to Sky, if it could find,
(But found not) any Mirth: Not all the Coasts,
Nor all the great and glorious Hosts, In Hev’n or Earth, did any Mirth afford;
No welcom Good or needed Food, my Board.
I do believ,
The Ev’ning being shady and obscure, The very Silence did me griev,
And Sorrow more procure: A secret Want
Did make me think my Fortune scant.
Anonymous (published 1658)
Authors: Bauer Mark S 
Published: November 2023

Abstract
On Melancholy
Stand off, physician! Let me frolic With my humour melancholic.
‘Tis pleasure–it is pain likewise; ‘Tis hell, and yet a paradise.
‘Tis white and black—’tis all upon Checkered imagination.
‘Tis an odd-conceited theme;
‘Tis nature’s rambling, idle dream; Her cheating optic glass, which lies, Falsely abstracts, and multiplies.
The man of Rhodes, whose stature was Nine hundred camels’ load of brass,
This mighty Phoebus can’t compare With the melancholy I bear,
In hands, feet, nose—fancy makes him Bigger by far in every limb.
Another wasteful humour straight Brings him down to a half-ounce weight,
Then, like some bird (a pretty folly!) Flies aloft, winged with melancholy!
He’s air, or some thin exhalation Next degree to annihilation.
‘Tis thraldom, freedom, ‘tis express Good company, and loneliness;
It laughs and cries all in one breath; ‘Tis wealth or want, ‘tis life or death.
A Bedlam trance,’tis what you will, ‘Tis as you’d have it, well or ill.
Isaac Watts (1674–1748)
Authors: Bauer Mark S 
Published: November 2023

Abstract
The Hurry of the Spirits, in a Fever and Nervous Disorders
My frame of nature is a ruffl ed sea,
And my disease the tempest. Nature feels
A strange commotion to her inmost centre;
The throne of reason shakes. ‘Be still, my thoughts; Peace and be still.’ In vain my reason gives
The peaceful word, my spirit strives in vain
To calm the tumult and command my thoughts. This flesh, this circling blood, these brutal powers, Made to obey, turn rebels to the mind,
Nor hear its laws. The engine rules the man. Unhappy change! When nature’s meaner springs, Fir’d to impetuous ferments, break all order; When little restless atoms rise and reign
Tyrants in sov’reign uproar, and impose Ideas on the mind; confus’d ideas
Of non-existents and impossibles,
Who can describe them? Fragments of old dreams, Borrow’d from midnight, torn from fairy fields And fairy skies, and regions of the dead,
Abrupt, ill-sorted! O ‘tis all confusion! If I but close my eyes, strange images
In thousand forms and thousand colours rise,
Stars, rainbows, moons, green dragons, bears and ghosts, An endless medley rush upon the stage,
And dance and riot wild in reason’s court Above control. I’m in a raging storm,
Where seas and skies are blended, while my soul Like some light worthless chip of floating cork
Is tost from wave to wave: Now overwhelm’d With breaking floods, I drown, and seem to lose All being: Now high-mounted on the ridge
William Cowper (1731–1800)
Authors: Bauer Mark S 
Published: November 2023

Abstract
Lines Written During a Period of Insanity
Hatred and vengence—my eternal portion Scarce can endure delay of execution—
Wait with impatient readiness to seize my Soul in a moment.
Damned below Judas; more abhorred than he was, Who for a few pence sold his holy Master!
Twice betrayed, Jesus me, the last delinquent, Deems the profanest.
Man disavows, and Deity disowns me: Hell might afford my miseries a shelter;
Therefore Hell keeps her ever-hungry mouths all Bolted against me.
Hard lot! encompassed with a thousand dangers; Weary, faint, trembling with a thousand terrors, I’m called, if vanquished, to receive a sentence Worse than Abiram’s.
Him the vindictive rod of angry Justice
Sent quick and howling to the centre headlong; I, fed with judgment, in a fleshy tomb am Buried above ground.
Anonymous (published 1733)
Authors: Bauer Mark S 
Published: November 2023

Abstract
A Receipt to Cure a Love Fit
Tie one end of a rope fast over a beam,
And make a slip-noose at the other extreme; Then just underneath let a cricket be set, On which let the lover most manfully get; Then over his head let the snecket be got, And under one ear be well settled the knot.
The cricket kicked down, let him take a fair swing; And leave all the rest of the work to the string.
Robert Fergusson (1750–1774) Ode to Disappointment
Authors: Bauer Mark S 
Published: November 2023

Abstract
Ode to Disappointment
Thou joyless fiend, life’s constant foe, Sad source of care and spring of woe,
Soft pleasure’s hard controul; Her gayest haunts for ever nigh, Stern mistress of the secret sigh,
That swells the murm’ring soul.
John Codrington Bampfylde (1754–1796)
Authors: Bauer Mark S 
Published: November 2023

Abstract
On a Frightful Dream
This morn ere yet had rung the matin peal, The cursed Merlin, with his potent spell, Aggrieved me sore, and from his wizard cell, (First fixing on mine eyes a magic seal)
Millions of ghosts and shadowy shapes let steal; Who, swarming round my couch, with horrid yell,
Chattered and mocked, as though from deepest Hell They had escaped.—I oft, with fervent zeal,
Essayed, and prayer, to mar the enchanter’s power.
In vain for thicker still the crew came on,
And now had weighed me down, but that the day Appeared, and Phoebus, from his eastern tower,
With new-tricked beam, like truth immortal, shone, And chased the visionary forms away.
William Blake (1757–1827)
Authors: Bauer Mark S 
Published: November 2023

Abstract
“My Spectre around me night and day”
My Spectre around me night and Like a wild beast guards my way; My Emanation far within
Weeps incessantly for my sin.
A fathomless and boundless deep, There we wander, there we weep; On the hungry craving wind
My Spectre follows thee behind.
He scents thy footsteps in the snow, Wheresoever thou dost go,
Thro’ the wintry hail and rain. When wilt thou return again?
Dost thou not in pride and scorn Fill with tempests all my morn, And with jealousies and fears
Fill my pleasant nights with tears?
Seven of my sweet loves thy knife Has bereavèd of their life.
Their marble tombs I built with tears, And with cold and shuddering fears.
Seven more loves weep night and day Round the tombs where my loves lay, And seven more loves attend each night Around my couch with torches bright.
And seven more loves in my bed Crown with wine my mournful head,
Let us agree to give up love, And root up the Infernal Grove; Then shall we return and see The worlds of happy Eternity.
And throughout all Eternity
I forgive you, you forgive me. As our dear Redeemer said:
“This the Wine, and this the Bread.”
Robert Bloomfield (1766–1823)
Authors: Bauer Mark S 
Published: November 2023

Abstract
from “The Farmer’s Boy”
Hither at times, with cheerfulness of soul,
Sweet village Maids from neighbouring hamlets stroll, That like the light-heel’d does o’er lawns that rove, Look shyly curious; rip’ning into love;
For love’s their errand: hence the tints that glow On either cheek, a heighten’d lustre know:
When, conscious of their charms, e’en Age looks sly, And rapture beams from Youth’s observant eye.
The pride of such a party, Nature’s pride Was lovely Ann, who innocently try’d, With hat of airy shape and ribbons gay, Love to inspire, and stand in Hymen’s way
But, ere her twentieth Summer could expand, Or youth was render’d happy with her hand, Her mind’s serenity, her peace was gone,
Her eye grew languid, and she wept alone
Yet causeless seem’d her grief; for quick restrain’d, Mirth follow’d loud; or indignation reign’d: Whims wild and simple led her from her home, The heath, the common, or the fields to roam: Terror and Joy alternate rul’d her hours;
Now blithe she sung, and gather’d useless flow’rs; Now pluck’d a tender twig from ev’ry bough,
To whip the hov’ring demons from her brow. Ill-fated Maid! thy guiding spark is fled,
And lasting wretchedness awaits thy bed— Thy bed of straw! for mark, where even now O’er their lost child affl icted parents bow; Their woe she knows not, but perversely coy,
George Gordon, Lord Byron (1788–1824)
Authors: Bauer Mark S 
Published: November 2023

Abstract
from “The Lament of Tasso”
I
Long years!—It tries the thrilling frame to bear And eagle-spirit of a Child of Song—
Long years of outrage—calumny—and wrong; Imputed madness, prisoned solitude,
And the Mind’s canker in its savage mood, When the impatient thirst of light and air Parches the heart; and the abhorred grate, Marring the sunbeams with its hideous shade,
Works through the throbbing eyeball to the brain, With a hot sense of heaviness and pain;
And bare, at once, Captivity displayed
Stands scoffing through the never-opened gate, Which nothing through its bars admits, save day, And tasteless food, which I have eat alone
Till its unsocial bitterness is gone;
And I can banquest like a beast of prey, Sullen and lonely, couching in the cave Which is my lair, and—it may be—my grave.
All this hath somewhat worn me, and may wear, But must be borne. I stoop not to despair;
For I have battled with mine agony,
And made me wings wherewith to overfly The narrow circus of my dungeon wall . . .
III
Above me, hark! the long and maniac cry Of minds and bodies in captivity.
And hark! the lash and the increasing howl, And the half-inarticulate blasphemy!
Anonymous (“Orestes”) (published 1796)
Authors: Bauer Mark S 
Published: November 2023

Abstract
A Sonnet to Opium; Celebrating its Virtues. Written at the Side of Julia, when the Author was Inspired with
a Dose of Laudanum, more than Sufficient for two moderate Turks
Soul-soothing drug! Your virtues let me laud, Which can with sov’reign sway
Force lawless passion into harmless play!
Oft have I owned your pow’r In many a moody hour,
When grief with viper-tooth my heart hath gnawed.
Still friendly to the plaintive muse, You can a balm infuse.
If, sick with hopeless love, Too tenderly I mourn,
You can the shaft of anguish quick remove;
Or make desire’s destructive flame less fiercely burn: Guardian you are of Julia’s innocence,
When madd’ning rapture goads to vice my throbbing sense.