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string | label
int64 |
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and glance securely round.
| 2 |
so that ye for them are made
| 2 |
of course throw monstrous shadows: those who think
| 0 |
he who plays with old iagoo
| 2 |
“why won’t the farm next to it do for you?”
| 2 |
on which an army once did feast,
| 2 |
their country free and joyous--
| 1 |
o sun-hint that hath overspread
| 2 |
the mad briareus of disunion rise,
| 0 |
like your nest,
| 2 |
leading downward to the river,
| 2 |
a tyrian colony; the people made
| 2 |
can storied urn or animated bust:
| 2 |
but she spake: "bid hither gunnar, lest the sun sink o'er the bent,
| 2 |
despised am i by those who call'd me friend
| 3 |
the days pass over me
| 2 |
knowing this, that never yet
| 2 |
no, i won't be seein' nobody in the mornin',
| 2 |
the crack as of her splitting. did she take
| 2 |
i see them torn by gallic guns,
| 0 |
thou feel'st it burning, in and in,--and fear
| 0 |
your paynim heroes faster ride
| 1 |
but all of them are bad enough
| 0 |
_you_ took to follerin' where the prophets beckoned,
| 2 |
godminster? is it fancy's play?
| 2 |
so that my stern resolve was almost gone.
| 2 |
meekly in the eternal footsteps trod,
| 2 |
all along down "injin crik?"
| 2 |
look down the shining peaks of all my days
| 1 |
the wood giant
| 2 |
tinkle, tinkle, sweetly it sung to us,
| 1 |
has it become to thee a labyrinth never ending,
| 0 |
on her changed world of ruin, waste and wrack,
| 0 |
then along the river strand,
| 2 |
these are the tales, or new or old,
| 2 |
for her this rhyme is penned, whose luminous eyes,
| 1 |
like morning glory
| 1 |
the quavering thunder thereupon had ceas'd,
| 3 |
to men below,
| 2 |
they had not set there. who had set it there?
| 2 |
kneeling ne'er spoiled silk stockings; quit thy state;
| 0 |
sometime, when all life's lessons have been learned,
| 2 |
shine knightly star and plume of snow?
| 1 |
he said; and while he spoke, with flying speed
| 2 |
from earth, with the waters of pain.
| 0 |
sent by an hand unseen;
| 2 |
till after-poets only knew
| 2 |
to his aid the strong reverses
| 2 |
and leave the words unspoken i yet have will to speak."
| 2 |
the tablet telling where he "fell on sleep,"--
| 2 |
is writ in moods and frowns and wrinkles strange.
| 0 |
so there on an eve is sigurd in the ancient niblung hall,
| 2 |
good ringers, pull your best," quoth he.
| 1 |
to gather weeds in the regardless stream.
| 2 |
and the lure of what is called heaven is little or nothing to me.
| 3 |
me up like that. 'essence de la valliere'--
| 2 |
but when i read of the brotherhood of lovers, how it was with them;
| 2 |
all these were round my steady paces.
| 2 |
fearless but weary to thy arms i creep;
| 3 |
those cobweb nerves he could not dull within.
| 0 |
with dews of tropic morning wet,
| 2 |
here those that in the rapid course delight,
| 1 |
‘received that cheque.’ but you!... i send you funds
| 2 |
and never be forgot in mighty rome
| 1 |
fooled with your promises,
| 0 |
thy mission to a world of woe.
| 0 |
attend your brother to the stygian flood.”
| 2 |
less often man--the harder of the two.
| 2 |
shining and shouting each to each that place),
| 2 |
and call that brilliant flower the painted cup.
| 1 |
a privilege, i think,
| 2 |
our frowning foemen of the night
| 0 |
of sainthood in purple the pattern and pick,
| 2 |
and bright in heaven's jewelled crown
| 1 |
when, dreadful to behold, from sea we spied
| 0 |
halcyons of memory,
| 1 |
hale as the morn and happy as her song.
| 1 |
and catered for it as the cretan bees
| 2 |
some moment, nailed on sorrow's cross,
| 0 |
and in the air, her new voice luting soft,
| 1 |
with sincerest conviction their chairs to the shore;
| 1 |
my prayer away i threw;
| 2 |
an old smoaked blanket arches oer his head,
| 2 |
the sundown's golden trail?
| 1 |
far, far away, o ye
| 2 |
our saxon tongue has known,--
| 2 |
“the nymph, who scatters flaming fires around,
| 0 |
thus farr to try thee, adam, i was pleas'd,
| 1 |
swifter far than youth's delight--
| 1 |
all autumn pil'd, though spring and autumn here
| 2 |
for 'twas e'en as a great god's slaying, and they feared the wrath of the sky;
| 0 |
but heaven in thy creation did decree,
| 2 |
and i've been like that silly girl.
| 0 |
burns in thee, child?--what good can thee betide,
| 2 |
skins of otter, lynx, and ermine,
| 2 |
to make a body curse.
| 0 |
no, no, you have dismiss'd me; and i go
| 2 |
and full of wonder, full of hope as he.
| 1 |
were murmuring on the stifling air
| 0 |
how poor these pallid phrases seem,
| 0 |
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