OpenLLM-France/wikimedia huggingface dataset:
# Bonny Barbara Allan (1815-1825)/The minstrel

THE MINSTREL.
Keen blaws the wind o'er Donnocht-Head, The snaw drives snellie thro' the dale; The Gaberlunzie tirls my sneck, And shivering, tells his waefu' tale.
Cauld is the night, O let me in, And dinna let your minstrel fa'; And dinna let his winding sheet Be naething but a wreath o' snaw.
Full ninety winters hae I seen,
And pip'd whar gor-cocks whirring flew, And mony a day ye've danc'd I've seen, To lilts which from my drone I blew.
My Eppie wak'd, and soon she cried, Get up, gudeman, and let him in; For weel ye ken the winter nights Seem'd short when he began his din.
My Eppie's voice, O wow it's sweet, E'en tho' she bans and scaulds a wee; But when it's tun'd to sorrow's tale, O, haith, it's doubly dear to me.
​⟨Come⟩ in, auld carle, I'Il steer my fire, I'll mak it bleeze a bonnie flame, Your bluid is thin, ye've tint the gate, Ye should na stray sae far frae hame.
Nae hame hae I, the minstrel said, Sad party-strife o'erturn'd my ha'; And, weeping, at the eve of life, I wander thro' a wreath o' snaw.
# Benedict Arnold. A biography

Author: Hill, George Canning, 1825-1898 (Transcription by William Maury Morris II)
CHAPTER I.
YOUTH AND EARLY MANHOOD.
CHAPTER II.
TAKING OF TICONDEROGA.
CHAPTER III.
IN THE WILDERNESS.
CHAPTER IV.
GOING AGAINST QUEBEC.
CHAPTER V.
FIRST NAVAL BATTLE WITH ENGLAND.
CHAPTER VI.
INJUSTICE TO ARNOLD.
CHAPTER VII.
THE NORTHERN ARMY.
CHAPTER VIII.
THE BATTLES OF BEMIS HEIGHTS.
CHAPTER IX.
ARNOLD AT PHILADELPHIA.
CHAPTER X.
PLOTTING TREASON.
CHAPTER XI.
TAKEN IN THE TOILS.
CHAPTER XII.
ANDRE'S EXECUTION.
CHAPTER XIII.
A TRAITOR'S BARBARITIES .
# Body of This Death/A Tale

​A TALE
This youth too long has heard the break
Of waters in a land of change.
He goes to see what suns can make
From soil more indurate and strange.
He cuts what holds his days together
And shuts him in, as lock on lock:
The arrowed vane announcing weather,
The tripping racket of a clock;
Seeking, I think, a light that waits
Still as a lamp upon a shelf,— A land with hills like rocky gates
Where no sea leaps upon itself.
But he will find that nothing dares
To be enduring, save where, south
Of hidden deserts, torn fire glares
On beauty with a rusted mouth,—
Where something dreadful and another
Look quietly upon each other.
# Body of This Death/Ad Castitatem

​AD CASTITATEM
I make the old sign.
I invoke you,
Chastity.
Life moves no more
A breeze of flame.
Alike upon the ground
Struck by the same withering
Lie the fruitful and the barren branch.
Alike over them
Closes the mould.
I call upon you,
Who have not known you;
I invoke you,
Stranger though I be.
Against this blackened heart
I hold your offerings— Water, and a stone.
In this ravaged country,
In this season not yours,
You having no season,
I call upon you without echo.
Hear me, infertile,
Beautiful futility.
# Body of This Death/Fifteenth Farewell

​FIFTEENTH FAREWELL
I
You may have all things from me, save my breath.
The slight life in my throat will not give pause
For your love, nor your loss, nor any cause.
Shall I be made a panderer to death,
Dig the green ground for darkness underneath,
Let the dust serve me, covering all that was
With all that will be? Better, from time's claws,
The hardened face under the subtle wreath.
Cooler than stones in wells, sweeter, more kind
Than hot, perfidious words, my breathing moves
Close to my plunging blood. Be strong, and hang
Unriven mist over my breast and mind,
My breath! We shall forget the heart that loves,
Though in my body beat its blade, and its fang.
II
I erred, when I thought loneliness the wide
Scent of mown grass over forsaken fields,
Or any shadow isolation yields.
Loneliness was the heart within your side.
Your thought, beyond my touch, was tilted air
Ringed with as many borders as the wind.
How could I judge you gentle or unkind
When all bright flying space was in your care?
Now that I leave you, I shall be made lonely
By simple empty days,—never that chill
Resonant heart to strike between my arms
Again, as though distraught for distance,—only
Levels of evening, now, behind a hill,
Or a late cock-crow from the darkening farms.
# Body of This Death/A Letter

​A LETTER
I came here, being stricken, stumbling out
At last from streets; the sun, decreasing, took me
For days, the time being the last of autumn,
The thickets not yet stark, but quivering
With tiny colors, like some brush strokes in
The manner of the pointillists; small yellows
Dart shaped, little reds in different pattern,
Clicks and notches of color on threaded bushes,
A cracked and fluent heaven, and a brown earth.
I had these, and my food and sleep—enough.
This is a countryside of roofless houses,— Taverns to rain,—doorsteps of millstones, lintels
Leaning and delicate, foundations sprung to lilacs,
Orchards where boughs like roots strike into the sky.
Here I could well devise the journey to nothing,
At night getting down from the wagon by the black barns,
The zenith a point of darkness, breaking to bits,
Showering motionless stars over the houses.
Scenes relentless—the black and white grooves of a woodcut.
But why the journey to nothing or any desire?
Why the heart taken by even senseless adventure,
The goal a coffer of dust? Give my mouth to the air,
Let arrogant pain lick my flesh with a tongue
Rough as a cat's; remember the smell of cold mornings,
The dried beauty of women, the exquisite skin
Under the chins of young girls, young men's rough beards,— The cringing promise of this one, that one's apology
For the knife struck down to the bone, gladioli in sick rooms,
Asters and dahlias, flowers like ruches, rosettes...
Forever enough to part grass over the stones
By some brook or well, the lovely seed-shedding stalks;
To hear in the single wind diverse branches
Repeating their sounds to the sky—that sky like scaled mackerel,
Fleeing the fields—to be defended from silence,
To feel my body as arid, as safe as a twig
Broken away from whatever growth could snare it
Up to a spring, or hold it softly in summer
Or beat it under in snow.
I must get well.
Walk on strong legs, leap the hurdles of sense,
Reason again, come back to my old patchwork logic,
Addition, subtraction, money, clothes, clocks,
Memories (freesias, smelling slightly of snow and of flesh
In a room with blue curtains) ambition, despair.
I must feel again who had given feeling over,
Challenge laughter, take tears, play the piano,
Form judgments, blame a crude world for disaster.
To escape is nothing. Not to escape is nothing.
The farmer's wife stands with a halo of darkness
Rounding her head. Water drips in the kitchen
Tapping the sink. To-day the maples have split
Limb from the trunk with the ice, a fresh wooden wound.
The vines are distorted with ice, ice burdens the breaking
Roofs I have told you of.
Shall I play the pavanne
For a dead child or the scene where that girl
Lets fall her hair, and the loud chords descend
As though her hair were metal, clashing along
Over the tower, and a dumb chord receives it?
This may be wisdom: abstinence, beauty is nothing,
That you regret me, that I feign defiance.
And now I have written you this, it is nothing.
# Body of This Death/Decoration

​DECORATION
A macaw preens upon a branch outspread
With jewelry of seed. He's deaf and mute.
The sky behind him splits like gorgeous fruit
And claw-like leaves clutch light till it has bled.
The raw diagonal bounty of his wings
Scrapes on the eye color too chafed. He beats
A flattered tail out against gauzy heats;
He has the frustrate look of cheated kings.
And all the simple evening passes by:
A gillyflower spans its little height
And lovers with their mouths press out their grief.
The bird fans wide his striped regality
Prismatic, while against a sky breath-white
A crystal tree lets fall a crystal leaf.
# Body of This Death/Betrothed

​BETROTHED
You have put your two hands upon me, and your mouth,
You have said my name as a prayer.
Here where trees are planted by the water
I have watched your eyes, cleansed from regret,
And your lips, closed over all that love cannot say.
My mother remembers the agony of her womb
And long years that seemed to promise more than this.
She says, "You do not love me,
You do not want me,
You will go away."
In the country whereto I go
I shall not see the face of my friend
Nor her hair the color of sunburnt grasses;
Together we shall not find
The land on whose hills bends the new moon
In air traversed of birds.
What have I thought of love?
I have said, "It is beauty and sorrow."
I have thought that it would bring me lost delights, and splendor
As a wind out of old time...
But there is only the evening here,
And the sound of willows
Now and again dipping their long oval leaves in the water.
# Body of This Death/Chanson un peu naïve

​CHANSON UN PEU NAÏVE
What body can be ploughed,
Sown, and broken yearly?
She would not die, she vowed,
But she has, nearly.
Sing, heart sing;
Call and carol clearly.
And, since she could not die,
Care would be a feather,
A film over the eye
Of two that lie together.
Fly, song, fly,
Break your little tether.
So from strength concealed
She makes her pretty boast:
Plain is a furrow healed
And she may love you most.
Cry, song, cry,
And hear your crying lost.
# Body of This Death

BODY OF THIS DEATH
"Who shall deliver me from the body of this death?"
BODY OF THIS DEATH POEMS By LOUISE BOGAN
New York ROBERT M. McBRIDE & COMPANY 1923
Copyright 1923 by Robert M. McBride & Company
Printed in the United States of America Published September 1923
​Acknowledgement is made to The New Republic, The Measure, Others, Poetry: A Magazine of Verse, Voices, The Liberator, Vanity Fair, Rhythmus, and The Literary Review of The New York Evening Post, who first published certain of these poems.
To my mother, and to Mathilde Alexander
​CONTENTS
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 1970, so this work is in the public domain in countries and areas where the copyright term is the author's life plus 53 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
# Body of This Death/Epitaph for a Romantic Woman

​EPITAPH FOR A ROMANTIC WOMAN
She has attained the permanence
She dreamed of, where old stones lie sunning.
Untended stalks blow over her
Even and swift, like young men running.
Always in the heart she loved
Others had lived,—she heard their laughter.
She lies where none has lain before,
Where certainly none will follow after.
# Body of This Death/Knowledge

​KNOWLEDGE
Now that I know
How passion warms little
Of flesh in the mould,
And treasure is brittle,—
I'll lie here and learn
How, over their ground,
Trees make a long shadow
And a light sound.
# Book of Etiquette/Volume 1/Part 2

PART II
   "Politeness itself is always the same. The rules of etiquette which are merely the forms in which it finds expression, vary with time and place. A sincere regard for the rights of others, in the smallest matters as well as the largest; genuine kindness of heart; good taste and self command, which are the foundations of good manners, are never out of fashion."
—Samuel R. Wells.
# Board of Suppliers of the County of Santa Cruz v. Santa Cruz Railroad Company/Opinion of the Court

* Court Documents
* Case Syllabus
* Opinion of the Court
United States Supreme Court
111 U.S. 361
Board of Suppliers of the County of Santa Cruz v. Santa Cruz Railroad Company
This was a suit brought by the Santa Cruz Railroad Company to require the board of commissioners of the county of Santa Cruz to deliver certain bonds, claimed to be due from the county under a contract with the railroad company. The defenses were, (1) that the contract was unilateral, and therefore not binding on the county; (2) that the board of supervisors exceeded its authority in making the contract; and (3) that a repealing statute, passed after the contract was entered into, took away the power of the board to make any further deliveries of bonds. No objection whatever was made to the validity of the statute under which the board assumed to act in making the contract. The whole defense rested on the construction and effect to be given to certain statutes, which no one denied the constitutional power of the legislature to enact.
The ground of federal jurisdiction, relied on in the brief of counsel for the county, is 'that, by the issuance of the bonds demanded in this proceeding, the state would deprive the tax-payers of the county of Santa Cruz of property without due process of law, contrary to the right, privilege, or immunity secured by the first section of the fourteenth amendment of the constitution of the United States.' That was not the question presented to, or decided by, the state court. In that court the inquiry was whether the proceedings of the board to charge the county were according to law, not whether the law under which the proceedings were had was constitutional and binding on the tax-payers. The state court decided that the proceedings were in accordance with the requirements of the law, and thus created an obligation on the part of the county to deliver the bonds, which was not discharged by the repealing statute relied on. This decision involved no question of federal law, and is not reviewable here.
The motion to dismiss is granted.

## Notes

This work is in the public domain in the United States because it is a work of the United States federal government (see 17 U.S.C. 105).
Public domainPublic domainfalsefalse
# Board of Trade of City of Chicago v. Johnson

* related portals: Supreme Court of the United States.
* sister projects: Wikidata item.
United States Supreme Court
264 U.S. 1
Board of Trade of City of Chicago v. Johnson
Argued: Nov. 26, 1923. --- Decided: Feb 18, 1924
Mr. Henry S. Robbins, of Chicago, Ill., for petitioners.
[Argument of Counsel from page 2 intentionally omitted]
Mr. Robert N. Erskine, of Chicago, Ill., for respondent.
[Argument of Counsel from pages 3-5 intentionally omitted]
Mr. Chief Justice TAFT delivered the opinion of the Court.

## Notes

This work is in the public domain in the United States because it is a work of the United States federal government (see 17 U.S.C. 105).
Public domainPublic domainfalsefalse
# Board of Trade of Kansas City v. United States

* related portals: Supreme Court of the United States.
* sister projects: Wikidata item.
United States Supreme Court
314 U.S. 534
Board of Trade of Kansas City v. United States
Argued: Nov. 18, 1941. --- Decided: Jan 5, 1942
See 315 U.S. 826, 62 S.Ct. 621, 86 L.Ed. --.
Appeal from the District Court of the United States for the Western District of Missouri.
Messrs. Samuel J. Wettrick, of Chicago, Ill., and M. W. Borders, of Kansas City, Mo., for appellants.
Mr. J. Stanley Payne, of Washington, D.C., for appellees United States and Interstate Commerce Commission.
Mr. Frank A. Leffingwell, of Dallas, Tex., for appellees Texas Industrial Traffic League and others.
Mr. Justice FRANKFURTER delivered the opinion of the Court.

## Notes

This work is in the public domain in the United States because it is a work of the United States federal government (see 17 U.S.C. 105).
Public domainPublic domainfalsefalse
# Board of Trade of City of Chicago v. United States

* related portals: Supreme Court of the United States.
* sister projects: Wikipedia article, Wikidata item.
Chicago Board of Trade v. United States, 246 U.S. 231 (1918), was a case in which the Supreme Court of the United States applied the rule of reason to the internal trading rules of a commodity market. Warning: template has been deprecated.
United States Supreme Court
246 U.S. 231
Board of Trade of City of Chicago v. United States
Argued: Dec. 18 and 19, 1917. --- Decided: March 4, 1918
[Syllabus from pages 231-232 intentionally omitted]
Mr. Henry S. Robbins, of Chicago, Ill., for appellants.
Mr. G. Carroll Todd, Asst. Atty. Gen., for the United States.
[Arguments of Council on pages 232-235 intentionally omitted.]
Mr. Justice BRANDEIS delivered the opinion of the Court.

## Notes

This work is in the public domain in the United States because it is a work of the United States federal government (see 17 U.S.C. 105).
Public domainPublic domainfalsefalse
# Bohemian legends and other poems/Concord in the Nation

CONCORD IN THE NATION.
Concord, brothers! Stand by our mother Our mighty mother our only love. And let the light of our glorious past Shine on the lion flag from above. Long sleep has made us once more strong, The future will us honor yield. Only concord, concord, brothers, Shield us, St. Václav, with thy shield,
Ah, once the sun of glory shining, Illustrious made Bohemia’s name. From the Baltic to the Adriatic, Our native land was known to fame. The sun shone, and our land was great, From mountain top to fruitful field. Only concord, concord, brothers, Shield us, St. Václav, with thy shield.
Bohemia spake, and the world trembled— From far and wide they quaking heard. She raised her voice to God, and heaven, By holy song of hers, was stirred. It was Bohemia’s voice that sang, The truth that from her mountains pealed. Only concord, concord, brothers, Shield us, St. Václav, with thy shield.
Oh, for the true words, and the true faith, Of our Cyril and Methodej. Bohemia on the bloody mountains Lost their freedom through faith in you.
Knock, oh, Bohemians! on your hills, There sleep the brave who would not yield. Only concord, concord, brothers, Shield us, St. Václav, with thy shield.
Yes, there is honor in a downfall After a most desperate warfare. When the land lies crushed, but not conquered— For the free soul still lingers there. Like the phoenix from dead ashes, Warriors arise from our fields. Only concord, concord, brothers, Shield us, St. Václav, with thy shield.
My country, my poor blinded country— What fate now can cause thee to blaze? You see not the blood that is streaming, To springs of the far-away days. It blazes the blood on our hills— It calls us never to yield. Only concord, concord; brothers, Shield us, St. Václav, with thy shield.
The bones of our fathers are scattered— Their blood it is chill now in death. From their bones will rise up the giants, Their blood is the red morning’s breath. The red clouds call us to glory, They smile on us never to yield. Only concord, concord, brothers, Shield us, St. Václav, with thy shield.
With concord then on to the battle, The east is ablaze—and I dream, I hope that the hour is nearing, When the God of nations will seem To call us once more unto fame, Once more to the honorable field. Only concord, concord, brothers, Shield us, St. Václav, with thy shield.
↑ * This poem received the poetic prize in Prague.
↑ † St. Vàclav (Wenzel), patron saint of Bohemia, was murdered by his brother, a heathen, in a church. He was king of Bohemia, A.D. 928. Murdered by Boleslav.
# Bohemian legends and other poems/Farewell

FAREWELL.
Before my charger bears me to the battle, Upon the Elba plain, I come again to see thee, dearest, And ’neath thy chamber window, sweetest, Plant a snowball bush by the same.
Should it in early spring be green with leaflets, And many blossoms fair, Think of me, then, oh my precious one, Riding home, and the battle well won, To you, the fairest of the fair.
But should the stem in spring be dried and leafless, Without bud or flower, Think of me, then, in some far-off plain, By the enemy’s swords lying slain— And that I blessed thee In that hour.
# Bohemian legends and other poems/Front matter

BOHEMIAN LEGENDS AND
OTHER POEMS
BY F. P. KOPTA
SECOND EDITION
NEW YORK: WILLIAM R. JENKINS, 1896.
Copyright, 1894, By F. P. KOPTA.
Copyright, 1896, By F. P. KOPTA.
DEDICATED
TO
VOJTA NÁPRSTEK, ESQ.,
CHIEF OF THE CITY COUNSEL OF PRAGUE.
# Bohemian legends and other poems/Dedicated

DEDICATED
TO MY EARLIEST FRIEND AND LOVED SISTER, MRS. ELIZABETH DOANE.
“Our tokens of love are for the most part barbarous. Cold and lifeless, because they do not represent our life. The only gift is a portion of thyself. Therefore, let the farmer give his corn; the miner, a gem; the sailor, coral and shells; the painter, his pictures; and the poet, his poem.—Emerson’s Essays.
# Bohemian legends and other poems/Forsaken

FORSAKEN.
Weep, my maiden, weep and cry, To your lover say farewell. To the only one you love— He who in your heart doth dwell.
Drafted in the warrior band, Far away he’ll have to serve. May be, in the living land, You will see his face no more.
Oh, that I were in my grave, Deep beneath the emerald grass, O’er my mound a heavy cross, Pressing my poor head, alas!
Then two eyes would only weep, Where four now are bathed in tears; Then two eyes would only burn With the scalding, bitter tears.
# Bohemian legends and other poems/Flax

* related portals: Czech literature.
* sister projects: Wikidata item.
FLAX.
All day long, My wheel strong, Drives the flaxen thread along. From the linen what will be? He who waits will surely see— A shirt as white as lily.
Weaver mine, Take this twine, Weave it quickly, weaver mine. Linen thin, and soft and white; Maiden shirts, for my delight— For his mother, see, a shroud.
# Bohemian legends and other poems/Going A-Wooing

Folk song
GOING A-WOOING.
When our Vit went a-wooing, Down the winding lane, Not a cloud was in the sky To betoken rain. In his best clothes he went wooing, Starched -up shirt and collar showing Now a decent lad goes wooing While a bachelor still.
When he came back from his wooing ’Twas a-pouring rain; Drenched he was from head to foot— That did give him pain. Soaking wet was all his clothing, And they mocked him well for going, While they looked at him with loathing In his sorry plight.
Poor young man, this had not happened Had he stayed at home, After a coquettish maid It is hard to roam. While she frowned upon his wooing, See this happened to him, showing One must be quite sure of winning, Qr the girl may mock.
# Bohemian legends and other poems/Comfort

COMFORT.
Mortal, if this earthly sorrow, Loss and anguish crush thy heart, If thy friends forsake and hate thee; If thy children break thy heart, If no wish of thine should prosper— Find fulfillment in this life; And the good you planned and strove for Die unknown in the strife, Still I bid thee hope and suffer, Hope in God, and leave thy care— He will lay no more upon thee Than He gives thee strength to bear. So, poor heart, new courage taking, Let what will, with thee betide, Knowing that thy God is mighty, And Thy Father by thy side.
# Bohemian legends and other poems/Cuckoo Song

Folk song
CUCKOO SONG.
“Cuckoo, cuckoo,” sang the cuckoo In the little grove, Ah, in the little grove. In her own home wept my loved one In her lonely room, Ah, in her lonely room.
“Why are you weeping, lamenting— Surely you are mine, Ah, surely you are mine. When the cuckoo cries at Christmas Three times you are mine, Ah, three times you are mine.”
“How can I keep from lamenting— When you are not mine, Ah, when you are not mine. For the cuckoo ne’er at Christmas Lets his voice be heard, Ah, lets his voice be heard.”
# Books and men/front matter

By Agnes Repplier
COUNTER-CURRENTS.
AMERICANS AND OTHERS.
A HAPPY HALF-CENTURY AND OTHER ESSAYS.
IN OUR CONVENT DAYS
COMPROMISES.
THE FIRESIDE SPHINX. With 4 full-page and 17 text Illustrations by Miss E. Bonsall.
BOOKS AND MEN.
POINTS OF VIEW
ESSAYS IN IDLENESS.
IN THE DOZY HOURS, AND OTHER PAPERS.
ESSAYS IN MINIATURE.
A BOOK OF FAMOUS VERSE. Selected by Agnes Repplier. In Riverside Library for Young People. THE SAME. Holiday Edition.
VARIA.
HOUGHTON, MIFFLIN & CO.
Boston and New York.