OpenLLM-France/wikimedia huggingface dataset:
# O Mercy Divine

O Mercy Divine How couldst Thou incline, My God, to become such an infant as mine?
What a wonder of grace! The Ancient of days Is found in the likeness of Adam's frail race.
He comes from on high, Who fashion'd the sky, And meekly vouchsafes in a manger to lie.
Our God ever blest With oxen doth rest, Is nurst by his creature and hangs at the breast.
So heavenly mild His innocence smil'd, No wonder the mother should worship the child.
The angels she knew Had worshipp'd him too, And still they confess adoration His due.
On Jesus's face, With eager amaze, And pleasure extatic the cherubim gaze,
Their newly-born King Transported they sing, And heav'n and earth with the triumph doth ring.
The shepherds behold Him promis'd of old, By angels attended, by prophets foretold.
The wise-men adore, And bring him their store, The rich are permitted to follow the poor.
To the inn they repair, To see the young heir: The inn is a palace; for Jesus is there!
Who now would be great, And not rather wait On Jesus their Lord in his humble estate?
Like him would I be, My Master I see In a stable; a stable shall satisfy me.
With him I reside: The manger shall hide Mine honour; the manger shall bury my pride.
And here will I lie, Till rais'd up on high With him on the cross I recover the sky.
# O Pioneers!

"O Pioneers!" is a 1913 novel by American author Willa Cather. It opens the "Prairie Trilogy" of Cather novels that also comprises My Ántonia and The Song of the Lark. Warning: template has been deprecated.
one or more chapters are available in a spoken word format.
* The Wild Land
** I
** II
** III
** IV
** V
* Neighboring Fields
** I
** II
** III
** IV
** V
** VI
** VII
** VIII
** IX
** X
** XI
** XII
* Winter Memories
** I
** II
* The White Mulberry Tree
** I
** II
** III
** IV
** V
** VI
** VII
** VIII
* Alexandria
** I
** II
** III
This work is in the public domain in the United States because it was published before January 1, 1929.
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
# Persian Letters/Letter 17
#### Letter 17

Usbek to the Same
I am powerless, divine Mollah, to calm my impatience; I do not know how I am to wait for your sublime answer. I have doubts, which must be resolved; I feel that my reason has gone astray; restore it to the right path. Illumine my darkness, O source of light! Annihilate with the lightning of your divine pen the difficulties I am about to propose to you; enable me to commiserate myself, make me ashamed of the questions I ask you.
Whence comes it that our lawgiver forbids the use of swine’s flesh, and of all those meats which he denominates unclean? Why are we forbidden to touch a corpse, and why for the purification of our souls is this endless washing of the body ordained? To me it seems that things in themselves are neither clean nor unclean: I can conceive of no inherent quality which makes them the one or the other. The filthiness of filth consists in its offending our sight or some other sense; but in itself it is no dirtier than gold or diamonds. The idea of uncleanness, resulting from contact with a dead body, proceeds from a natural repugnance with which it fills us. If the bodies of those who do not wash offended neither the smell nor the sight, how could we tell that they were unclean? Should not, therefore, the senses, divine Mollah, be the only judges of what is clean or unclean? Yet, since the same objects do not affect all men alike, that which is agreeable to one producing disgust in another, it follows that the witness of the senses is no sure guide in this matter, unless we are permitted to decide the point, each according to his fancy, and to separate for our own behoof things that are clean from those that are not.
But would not this, reverend Mollah, confound the distinctions established by our holy Prophet, and overturn the foundations of that law which was written by angelic hands?
Erzeroum, the 20th of the second moon of Gemmadi, 1711.
# Persian Letters/Letter 19
#### Letter 19

Usbek to his friend Rustan, at Ispahan
We stayed only eight days at Tocat. After a journey of thirty-five days, we are now at Smyrna. Between Tocat and Smyrna we did not see a single place worthy the name of town. I have marked with astonishment the weakness of the empire of the Osmanli: a diseased body, it is not supported by a plain and temperate diet, but by violent remedies, which exhaust and waste it away continually.
The pashas, who obtain office only by purchase, bankrupt when they enter their provinces, ravage them like conquered countries. The insolent militia are governed only by their own caprices. The towns are dismantled, the cities deserted, the country desolate, agriculture and commerce entirely neglected.
Impunity is the order of the day under this ruthless government. The Christians who till the land, and the Jews who collect the taxes, are exposed to a thousand outrages.
Property in land is uncertain; and consequently the desire to increase its value has diminished: neither title nor possession is of any avail against the caprice of those in power.
These barbarians have abandoned all the arts, even that of war. While the nations of Europe become more refined every day, these people remain in a state of primitive ignorance; and rarely think of employing new inventions in war, until they have been used against them a thousand times.
They have no experience of the sea, nor skill in naval affairs. They say that a mere handful of Christians, descending from a barren rock, terrify the Ottomans, and shake their ascendancy.
Although they are themselves unfit for commerce, it is with great reluctance that they allow the Europeans, always industrious and enterprising, to conduct their trade: they think they are conferring a favour on these strangers in permitting them to enrich themselves.
Throughout the wide stretch of country which I have crossed, Smyrna is the only town which can be regarded as rich and powerful; and Smyrna owes its prosperity to the Europeans: it is no fault of the Turks that it is not like all the others.
Here you have, my dear Rustan, a correct idea of this empire, which will be within two centuries the scene of some conqueror’s exploits.
Smyrna, the 2nd of the moon of Rhamazan, 1711.
# Persian Letters/Letter 159
#### Letter 159

Solim to Usbek, at Paris
MAGNIFICENT lord, I lament for myself, and I lament for you: never did faithful servant sink into such an abyss of despair. Behold your misfortunes and mine; I write them with a trembling hand.
I swear, by all the prophets of heaven, that since you confided your wives to me, I have watched them night and day; that my anxiety has never left me for a single moment. When I assumed office I commenced with chastisement, which I have discontinued without relaxing my accustomed austerity.
But what am I saying? Why do I boast of fidelity which has been useless to you? Forget all my past services: look upon me as a traitor, and punish me for all the crimes which I have been unable to prevent. Roxana, the haughty Roxana – Oh, Heaven! In whom can we trust henceforth? You suspected Zelis, and never for a moment doubted Roxana; but her fierce virtue was a cruel imposture: it was the veil of her treachery. I surprised her in the arms of a young man, who, when he saw himself discovered, ran at me, and struck me twice with his dagger: the eunuchs came at the noise and surrounded him: he made a long defence, and wounded several of them; he wished even to re-enter the room to die, he said, in the presence of Roxana. But at last he yielded to numbers, and fell at our feet.
I know now, sublime lord, if I shall wait for your stern commands. You have placed your vengeance in my hands; and I ought not to defer it.
The Seraglio at Ispahan, the 8th of the first moon of Rebiab, 1720.
# Persian Letters/Letter 160
#### Letter 160

Solim to Usbek, at Paris
I HAVE made up my mind: your misfortunes shall disappear; I am going to punish.
Already I feel a secret joy: my soul and yours will be appeased: we shall exterminate crime, and make innocence turn pale.
Oh, all you who seem made only to be unconscious of your own feelings, and to be indignant even at your own desires, everlasting slaves of shame and modesty, would that I could bring you in crowds into this unhappy seraglio, to astonish you with the torrent of blood I am about to shed!
The Seraglio at Ispahan, the 8th of the first moon of Rebiab, 1720.
# Persian Letters/Letter 161
#### Letter 161

Roxana to Usbek, at Paris
YES, I have deceived you; I have led away your eunuchs: I have made sport of your jealousy; and I have known how to turn your frightful seraglio into a place of pleasure and delight.
I am at the point of death; the poison courses through my veins: for what should I do here, since the only man who bound me to life is no more? I die; but my spirit shall not pass unaccompanied: I have dispatched before me those sacrilegious gaolers who spilt the sweetest blood in the world.
How could you think that I was such a weakling as to imagine there was nothing for me in the world but to worship your caprices; that while you indulged all your desires, you should have the right to thwart me in all mine? No: I have lived in slavery, and yet always retained my freedom: I have remodeled your laws upon those of nature; and my mind has always maintained its independence.
You ought to thank me, then, for the sacrifice I made you; for having sunk so low as to seem to be yours; for having, like a coward, hidden in my heart what I ought to have published to all the earth; finally, for having profaned virtue, by permitting my submission to your humours to be called by that name.
You were amazed never to find in me the transports of love: had you known me better you would have found all the violence of hate.
For a long time you have had the satisfaction of believing that you had conquered a heart like mine: now we are both delighted: you thought me deceived, and I have deceived you.
Doubtless such a letter as this you little expected to receive. Can it be possible that after having overwhelmed you with affliction I shall still force you to admire my courage? But all is ended now; the poison destroys me, my strength leaves me, my pen drops from my hand; even my hate grows weaker: I die.
The Seraglio at Ispahan, the 8th of the first moon of Rebiab, 1720.
# Persian Letters/Letter 16
#### Letter 16

Usbek to the Mollah Mehemet Ali, Guardian of The Three Tombs at Koum
Why, divine Mollah, do you live in the tombs? You are better fitted to dwell among the stars. Doubtless you hide yourself lest you should eclipse the sun: unlike the day-star you have no spots; but you resemble him in your cloudy concealment.
Your knowledge is more abysmal that the ocean; your intellect, keener than Zufagar, the twin-pointed sword of Hali. You know the secrets of the nine orders of celestial powers; you read the Koran on the breast of our holy Prophet, and when you come to an obscure passage, an angel, by his order, spreads his rapid wings, and descends from the throne to reveal you its meaning.
I may, with your help, conduct a private correspondence with the seraphim; for, in short, O thirteenth Iman, are you not the centre where earth and heaven meet, the point of communication between the abyss and the empyrean?
In the midst of a profane people, permit me to purify myself through you. Suffer me to turn my face towards the holy place in which you dwell; mark me off from among the wicked, as one distinguishes night from day; aid me with your counsels; be my soul’s guardian; feed me with divine knowledge; and let me humbly expose to you the wounds of my spirit. Address your inspired letters to Erzeroum, where I shall stay for a month or two.
Erzeroum, the 11th of the second moon of Gemmadi, 1711.
# Persian Letters/Letter 21
#### Letter 21

Usbek to the chief white Eunuch
When you open this letter you ought to tremble; or rather you should have trembled when you permitted the treachery of Nadir. You who, even in the dullness and frigidity of old age, may not without guilt raise your eyes towards the dread objects of my love; you, to whom it is for ever forbidden to set a sacrilegious foot across the threshold of that awful place which conceals them from every eye: it is you who permit in those, for whose conduct you are responsible, liberties which you would not yourself dare to take; and do you not quake at the anticipation of the thunderbolt about to fall upon them and you?
And what are you, but vile instruments whom I may destroy at my pleasure; whose existence depends upon obedience; who have been sent into the world to live under my laws, or to die when I require it; who will cease to breathe as soon as my happiness, my love, my jealousy, has no more need of your ignoble service; who, in fine, can have no other lot that submission, whose soul is my will, whose only hope begins and ends in pleasing me?
I am aware that some of my wives are very fretful under the strict laws of duty; that the constant presence of a black eunuch annoys them; that they are weary of those hideous objects, which are appointed to keep them spotless for their husband; I know it well. As for you, who have abetted this disorder, you shall be punished in a manner to strike terror into all those who abuse my confidence.
I swear by all the prophets in heaven, and by Hali, the greatest of them, that if you swerve from your duty, I will hold your life of no more account that that of the insects which I tread upon.
Smyrna, the 12th of the moon of Zilcade, 1711.
# Persian Letters/Letter 2
#### Letter 2

Usbek to the chief black Eunuch, at his Seraglio in Ispahan
You are the faithful keeper of the most loveliest women in Persia; I have entrusted you with what in this world is most dear to me; you bear the keys of those fatal doors which are opened only for me. Whilst you watch over this precious storehouse of my affections, my heart, at rest, enjoys an absolute freedom from care. You guard it in the silence of the night as well as in the bustle of the day. Your un-relaxing care sustains virtue when it wavers. Should the women whom you guard incline to swerve from their duty, you would destroy their hopes in the bud. You are the scourge of vice, and the very monument of fidelity.
You command them and they obey. You fulfill implicitly all their desires, and exact from them a like obedience to the laws of the seraglio; you take a pride in rendering them the meanest services; you submit to their lawful commands with reverence and in dread; you serve them like the slave of their slaves. But, resuming your power, you command imperiously, as my representative, whenever you apprehend any slackening of the laws of chastity and modesty.
Never forget that I raised you from the lowest position among my slaves, to set you in your present place as the trusted guardian of the delights of my heart. Maintain the most humble bearing in the presence of those who partake my love; but, at the same time, make them deeply conscious of their own powerlessness. Provide for them all innocent pleasures; beguile them of their anxiety; entertain them with music, dancing, and delicious drinks; persuade them to meet together frequently. If they wish to go into the country, you may escort them thither; but lay hands on every man who dares to enter their presence. Exhort them to that cleanliness which is the symbol of the soul’s purity; speak sometimes of me. I long to see them again in that delightful place which they adorn. Farewell.
Tauris, the 18th of the moon of Saphar, 1711.
# Poems (Curwen)

POEMS
by
Annie Isabel Curwen.
MDCCCXCIX.
Barrow-in-Furness: THE BARROW PRINTING COMPANY, Hindpool Road.
To
My Beloved Mother,
This little Work
is lovingly dedicated by
Her Daughter.
PREFACE.
POEMS.
ERRATUM.
The last line on Page 196 should read at the end of the preceding poem.
INDEX.
LIST OF SUBSCRIBERS.
the barrow printing company, hindpool road, barrow-in-furness
This work is in the public domain in the United States because it was published before January 1, 1929.
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
# Poems (Emerson, Household Edition, 1904)/Cupido

CUPIDO
The solid, solid universe Is pervious to Love; With bandaged eyes he never errs, Around, below, above. His blinding light He flingeth white On God's and Satan's brood, And reconciles By mystic wiles The evil and the good.
# Poems (Emerson, Household Edition, 1904)/Eros 2

EROS
They put their finger on their lip, The Powers above: The seas their islands clip, The moons in ocean dip, They love, but name not love.
# Poems (Emerson, Household Edition, 1904)/Cosmos

COSMOS
Who saw the hid beginnings When Chaos and Order strove, Or who can date the morning, The purple flaming of love?
I saw the hid beginnings When Chaos and Order strove, And I can date the morning prime And purple flame of love.
​Song breathed from all the forest, The total air was fame; It seemed the world was all torches That suddenly caught the flame.
Is there never a retroscope mirror In the realms and corners of space That can give us a glimpse of the battle And the soldiers face to face?
Sit here on the basalt courses Where twisted hills betray The seat of the world-old Forces Who wrestled here on a day.
When the purple flame shoots up, And Love ascends his throne, I cannot hear your songs, O birds, For the witchery of my own.
And every human heart Still keeps that golden day And rings the bells of jubilee On its own First of May.
# Poems (Emerson, Household Edition, 1904)/Culture

CULTURE
Can rules or tutors educate The semigod whom we await? He must be musical, Tremulous, impressional, Alive to gentle influence Of landscape and of sky, And tender to the spirit-touch Of man's or maiden's eye: But, to his native centre fast, Shall into Future fuse the Past, And the world's flowing fates in his own mould recast.
# Poems (Emerson, Household Edition, 1904)/Days

DAYS
Daughters of Time, the hypocritic Days, Muffled and dumb like barefoot dervishes, And marching single in an endless file, Bring diadems and fagots in their hands. To each they offer gifts after his will, Bread, kingdoms, stars, and sky that holds them all. I, in my pleached garden, watched the pomp, Forgot my morning wishes, hastily Took a few herbs and apples, and the Day Turned and departed silent. I, too late, Under her solemn fillet saw the scorn.
# Poems (Emerson, Household Edition, 1904)/Each and All

EACH AND ALL
Little thinks, in the field, yon red-cloaked clown Of thee from the hill-top looking down; The heifer that lows in the upland farm, Far-heard, lows not thine ear to charm; The sexton, tolling his bell at noon, Deems not that great Napoleon Stops his horse, and lists with delight, Whilst his files sweep round yon Alpine height; Nor knowest thou what argument Thy life to thy neighbor's creed has lent. All are needed by each one; Nothing is fair or good alone. I thought the sparrow's note from heaven, ​Singing at dawn on the alder bough; I brought him home, in his nest, at even; He sings the song, but it cheers not now, For I did not bring home the river and sky;— He sang to my ear,—they sang to my eye. The delicate shells lay on the shore; The bubbles of the latest wave Fresh pearls to their enamel gave, And the bellowing of the savage sea Greeted their safe escape to me. I wiped away the weeds and foam, I fetched my sea-born treasures home; But the poor, unsightly, noisome things Had left their beauty on the shore With the sun and the sand and the wild uproar. The lover watched his graceful maid, As 'mid the virgin train she strayed, Nor knew her beauty's best attire Was woven still by the snow-white choir. At last she came to his hermitage, Like the bird from the woodlands to the cage;— The gay enchantment was undone, A gentle wife, but fairy none. Then I said, 'I covet truth; Beauty is unripe childhood's cheat; I leave it behind with the games of youth:'— As I spoke, beneath my feet The ground-pine curled its pretty wreath, Running over the club-moss burrs; ​I inhaled the violet's breath; Around me stood the oaks and firs; Pine-cones and acorns lay on the ground; Over me soared the eternal sky, Full of light and of deity; Again I saw, again I heard, The rolling river, the morning bird;— Beauty through my senses stole; I yielded myself to the perfect whole.
# Poems (Emerson, Household Edition, 1904)/Day by day returns

Day by day returns The everlasting sun, Replenishing material urns With God's unspared donation; But the day of day, The orb within the mind, Creating fair and good alway, Shines not as once it shined.
Vast the realm of Being is, In the waste one nook is his; Whatsoever hap befalls In his vision's narrow walls He is here to testify.
1831.
# Poems (Emerson, Household Edition, 1904)/Destiny

Published as "Fate" in Poems (1847)
DESTINY
That you are fair or wise is vain, Or strong, or rich, or generous; You must add the untaught strain That sheds beauty on the rose. There 's a melody born of melody, Which melts the world into a sea. Toil could never compass it; Art its height could never hit; It came never out of wit; But a music music-born Well may Jove and Juno scorn. Thy beauty, if it lack the fire Which drives me mad with sweet desire, What boots it? What the soldier's mail, Unless he conquer and prevail? What all the goods thy pride which lift, If thou pine for another's gift? Alas! that one is born in blight, Victim of perpetual slight: When thou lookest on his face, Thy heart saith, 'Brother, go thy ways! None shall ask thee what thou doest, Or care a rush for what thou knowest, Or listen when thou repliest, ​Or remember where thou liest, Or how thy supper is sodden;' And another is born To make the sun forgotten. Surely he carries a talisman Under his tongue; Broad his shoulders are and strong; And his eye is scornful, Threatening and young. I hold it of little matter Whether your jewel be of pure water, A rose diamond or a white, But whether it dazzle me with light. I care not how you are dressed, In coarsest weeds or in the best; Nor whether your name is base or brave: Nor for the fashion of your behavior; But whether you charm me, Bid my bread feed and my fire warm me And dress up Nature in your favor. One thing is forever good; That one thing is Success,— Dear to the Eumenides, And to all the heavenly brood. Who bides at home, nor looks abroad, Carries the eagles, and masters the sword.