OpenLLM-France/wikimedia huggingface dataset:
# The Sweet-Scented Name/The Candles

original title: Две свечки, одна свечка, три свечки
The Candles
THERE were two candles burning, and many lamps along the walls. A man was reading from an exercise-book, and others were silent and listened.
The flames trembled. The candles also listened—they liked listening; but there was a draught from somewhere, and they trembled.
The man finished. The candles were blown out and the people went away.
And it was just as before.
There was one grey candle burning. A woman sat and sewed. A child slept, and coughed in his sleep. There was a draught from the walls. The candles wept white, heavy tears. The tears trickled away and froze. It began to dawn. The woman with red eyes still sewed on. She blew out the candle. She sewed on.
And it was just as before.
Three yellow candles were burning. A man lay in a coffin—yellow and cold. ​Someone was reading from a book. A woman wept. The candles were dying from fear and sorrow. A crowd arrived. They sang; they flung incense. They lifted up the coffin. The candles were blown out. They went away.
And it was just as before.
FINIS
# The Sweet-Scented Name/The Golden Post

original title: Золотой кол
The Golden Post
BOBBY was angry with his papa and said to his nurse:
"As soon as I grow up I'll get to be a general, and I'll come to papa's house with a cannon and take him prisoner and tie him up to a post."
Papa, overhearing, cried out:
"Ah, you bad boy! Tie papa to a post, would you? That would hurt papa badly."
Bobby took fright, and said hesitatingly:
"But, papa, you know it would be a golden post, with a bit of writing on it—'For Bravery.'"
# The Sweet-Scented Name/The Dress of the Lily and of the Cabbage

original title: Одежды лилии и капустные одежки
The Dress of the Lily and of the Cabbage
IN a flower-bed in a garden grew a lily. She was all white and red—proud and beautiful.
She spoke gently to the wind passing over her. "Be more careful," said she. "I am a royal lily, and even Solomon, the wisest of men, was not clothed so luxuriously and so beautifully as I."
Not far away, in the kitchen garden, a cabbage was growing.
She heard the lily's words, and she laughed and said:
"That old Solomon, in my opinion, was just a sans-culotte. How did they clothe themselves, these ancients? They cut out somehow or other a garment to cover their nakedness, and they imagined that they were arrayed in the very best fashion. But I taught people how to dress themselves, and the credit ought to be given to me.
"You take a bare cabbage-stalk and you ​put on it the first covering, an under-vest; over that something to fasten it; then an under-skirt and fastenings for it; over this you put a skirt and its fastenings, and then a buckle. After the buckle you put on another vest and skirt and fastenings and bodice and buckle. Then you cover it all up from the sides, over the top and up from the bottom, so that the cabbage-stalk is quite hidden. And then it's quite warm and decent."
# The Sweet-Scented Name/The Future

original title: Будущие
The Future
NO one knows what the future will bring. But there is a place where the future gleams through an azure veil of desire. This is the place where those who are as yet unborn rest in peace. There everything is joyful, peaceful, freshly cool. No grief is there, and instead of air there is diffused an atmosphere of pure joy, in which the unborn have their being.
And no one ever leaves that land unless he desires to leave it.
Once there were four souls who all wished at the same moment to be born into this world. And in the azure mist of desire our four elements were revealed to them.
And one said:
"I love the earth—it is soft and warm and firm."
And another said:
"I love water—eternally falling, cool, and translucent."
The third said:
​"I love fire—gay and bright it is, and purifying."
And the fourth said:
"I love the air—stretching out so broad and high—the light breath of life."
And this is what life brought to them.
The first became a miner, and while he was at work a shaft fell and buried him in the earth.
And the second shed tears like water, and at length was drowned.
And the third perished by fire in a burning house.
And the fourth was hanged.
Poor innocent elements! Foolish desiring ones!
Oh, why did Will lead them forth from the happy place of non-existence!
# The Traveler and Fortune

Perry index 174
* "The Traveller and Fortune", translated by George Fyler Townsend, in Three Hundred Æsop's Fables (1867)
* "The Traveller and Fortune", 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 Travelers and the Plane-Tree

Perry index 175
* "The Travellers and the Plane-tree", translated by George Fyler Townsend, in Three Hundred Æsop's Fables (1867)
* "The Travellers and the Plane-tree", translated by Vernon Stanley Jones, illustrated by Arthur Rackham, 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 Traveler and His Dog

Perry index 330
* "The Traveller and his Dog", translated by George Fyler Townsend, in Three Hundred Æsop's Fables (1867)
* "The Traveller and his Dog", 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 Traveller's Evening Song

* The Traveller's Evening Song, in Blackwood's Edinburgh Magazine Volume 33, 1833.
* The Traveller's Evening Song, in Scenes and Hymns of Life, with Other Religious Poems (Scenes and Hymns of Life), 1834.
# The Traveler

* Search for titles containing or beginning with: "The Traveler."
* 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 Traveler", part of a poem by Richard Watson Gilder
* "The Traveller", a poem by Oliver Goldsmith
* "The Traveler", a poem by Antonio Machado
* "The Traveller", a prose poem by Clark Ashton Smith
# The Soft Side (New York: The Macmillan Company, 1900)/'Europe'

* Chapter 1
* Chapter 2
* Chapter 3
* Chapter 4
# The Soft Side (New York: The Macmillan Company, 1900)/John Delavoy

* Chapter 1
* Chapter 2
* Chapter 3
* Chapter 4
* Chapter 5
* Chapter 6
* Chapter 7
* Chapter 8
# The Soldier

* Search for titles containing or beginning with: "The Soldier."
* 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 Soldier (Brooke), a poem by Rupert Brooke.
* The Soldier (Hopkins), a poem by Gerard Manley Hopkins.
* The Soldier (Morley), a poem by Christopher Morley.
# The Soger Laddie (Ramsay)

"The first verse of this is old: the rest is by Ramsay.—The tune seems to be the same with a slow air, called 'Jacky Hume's Lament'—or, 'The Hollin Buss'—or, 'Ken ye what Meg o' the Mill has gotten?'" —Robert Burns, Interleaved Scots Musical Museum
* "The Sodger Laddie" in Highland laddie (1820)
* "The Soger Laddie" in Queen Mary's lamentation (1824)
* "The Soger Laddie" in The Book of Scottish Song (1843)
# The Solar System

* information about this edition.
* sister projects: Wikidata item.
THE
SOLAR SYSTEM
Six Lectures
DELIVERED AT THE MASSACHUSETTS INSTITUTE OF TECHNOLOGY IN DECEMBER, 1902
BY
PERCIVAL LOWELL
NON-RESIDENT PROFESSOR OF ASTRONOMY AT THE MASSACHUSETTS INSTITUTE OF TECHNOLOGY AND DIRECTOR OF THE LOWELL OBSER- VATORY, FLAGSTAFF, ARIZONA
BOSTON AND NEW YORK
HOUGHTON, MIFFLIN AND COMPANY
The Riverside Press, Cambridge
1903
Copyright, 1903,
By PERCIVAL LOWELL.
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
Published May, 1903.
CONTENTS
| chap | | page |
| I. | Our Solar System | 1 |
| II. | Mercury | 27 |
| III. | Mars | 47 |
| IV. | Saturn and its System | 72 |
| V. | Jupiter and his Comets | 94 |
| VI. | Cosmogony | 116 |
| ELEMENTS OF THE SOLAR SYSTEM |||
| table | | |
| I. | Orbital Elements | facing 134 |
| II. | Bodily Elements | facing 134 |
ERRATA
Page 23, line 8.
       For ${\frac {m}{a-d^{2}}}\,\!$ read ${\frac {2m}{{(a-d)}^{2}}}\,\!$
Page 74, line 18.
       For Pierce read Peirce.
Page 104, second line under diagram.
       For P read O.
Page 123, line i.
       After momentum insert projected at right angles to it.
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
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 Southern Marseillais

The Southern Marseillais,
as sung by
Miss Maggie Mitchell,
at the
New Montgomery Theatre,
on
Friday Evening, December 14, 1860.
Sons of the South, awake to Glory! Hark! hark! what myriads bid you rise! Your children, wives and grandsires hoary, Behold their tears and hear their cries— Behold their tears and hear their cries! Shall hateful tyrants, mischief breeding, With mongrel hosts, a thieving band, Affright and desolate the land, While peace—equality—lie bleeding? To arms! to arms! ye brave! Th’ avenging sword unsheath! March on! march on! all hearts resolved, On victory or death!
Now, now, the abolition storm is rolling, Which treacherous States, fanatic, raise; Their dogs of war, let loose, are howling, And Texian cities burn and blaze! And shall we basely view the ruin, While prowling thieves, with guilty stride, Spread desolation far and wide, With our best blood their hands embruing? To arms &c.
With all their South made wealth surrounded, These vile, insatiate robbers dare, (Their thirst of gold and power unbounded,) To mete the South e’en light and air! Like beasts of burden would they load us— Like gods would bid their slaves adore! But we are men—and are they more? Then shall they longer lash and goad us? To arms &c.
Equality! can men resign thee? White men?—who’ve felt thy gen’rous flame? Can dungeons, bolts or bars, confine thee, Or whips the Southern spirit tame? Too long the South has whin’d, bewailing, That falsehood’s dagger brothers wield— But Independence is our shield— Stars of the South, we now are hailing! To arms! to arms! ye brave! Th’ avenging sword unsheath! March on! march on! all hearts resolved, On victory or death!
This work was published before January 1, 1929 and is anonymous or pseudonymous due to unknown authorship. It is in the public domain in the United States as well as countries and areas where the copyright terms of anonymous or pseudonymous works are 95 years or less since publication.
Public domainPublic domainfalsefalse
# The Story of Mary MacLane/January 26

I SIT at my window and look out upon the housetops and chimneys of Butte. As I look I have a weary, disgusted feeling.
People are abominable creatures.
Under each of the roofs live a man and woman joined together by that very slender thread, the marriage ceremony—and their children, the result of the marriage ceremony.
How many of them love each other? Not two in a hundred, I warrant. The marriage ceremony is their one miserable, petty, paltry excuse for living together.
This marriage rite, it appears, is often used as a cloak to cover a world of rather shameful things.
How virtuous these people are, to be sure, under their different roof-trees. So virtuous are they indeed that they are able to draw themselves up in the ​pride of their own purity, when they happen upon some corner where the marriage ceremony is lacking. So virtuous are they that the men can afford to find amusement and diversion in the woes of the corner that is without the marriage rite; and the women may draw away their skirts in shocked horror and wonder that such things can be, in view of their own spotless virtue.
And so they live on under the roofs, and they eat and work and sleep and die; and the children grow up and seek other roofs, and call upon the marriage ceremony even as their parents before them—and then they likewise eat and work and sleep and die; and so on world without end.
This also is life—the life of the good, virtuous Christians.
I think, therefore, that I should prefer some life that is not virtuous.
I shall never make use of the marriage ceremony. I hereby register a vow, Devil, to that effect.
​When a man and a woman love one another that is enough. That is marriage. A religious rite is superfluous. And if the man and woman live together without the love, no ceremony in the world can make it marriage. The woman who does this need not feel the tiniest bit better than her lowest sister in the streets. Is she not indeed a step lower since she pretends to be what she is not—plays the virtuous woman? While the other unfortunate pretends nothing. She wears her name on her sleeve.
If I were obliged to be one of these I would rather be she who wears her name on her sleeve. I certainly would. The lesser of two evils, always.
I can think of nothing in the world like the utter littleness, the paltriness, the contemptibleness, the degradation, of the woman who is tied down under a roof with a man who is really nothing to her; who wears the man's name, who bears the man's children—who plays ​the virtuous woman. There are too many such in the world now.
May I never, I say, become that abnormal, merciless animal, that deformed monstrosity—a virtuous woman.
Anything, Devil, but that.
And so, as I look out over the roofs and chimneys, I have a weary, disgusted feeling.
# The Story of Mary MacLane/January 19

I COME from a long line of Scotch and Canadian MacLanes. There are a great many MacLanes, but there is usually only one real MacLane in each generation. There is but one who feels again the passionate spirit of the clans, those barbaric dwellers in the bleak, but well-beloved Highlands of Scotland.
I am the real MacLane of my generation. The real MacLane in these later centuries is always a woman. The men of the family never amount to anything worth naming—if one accepts the acme, the zenith, of pure selfishness, with a large letter "s." Life may be easy enough for the innumerable Canadian MacLanes who are not real. But it is certain to be more or less a Hill of Difficulty for the one who is. She finds herself somewhat alone. I have brothers and a sister and a mother ​in the same house with me—and I find myself somewhat alone. Between them and me there is no tenderness, no sympathy, no binding ties. Would it affect me in the least—do you suppose—if they should all die to-morrow? If I were not a real MacLane perhaps it would have been different, or perhaps I should not have missed these things.
How much, Devil, have I lost for the privilege of being a real MacLane?
But yes, I have also gained much.
# The Strand Magazine/Volume 4

(transcription project)
EDITED BY
GEORGE NEWNES
Vol. IV.
JULY TO DECEMBER
London: GEORGE NEWNES, LIMITED., 8, 9, 10, & 11, SOUTHAMPTON STREET, AND EXETER STREET, STRAND 1892
* No. 19. - July 1892.
* No. 20. - August 1892.
* No. 21. - September 1892.
* No. 22. - October 1892.
* No. 23. - November 1892.
* No. 24. - December 1892.
* Index to Volume IV.
# The Strand Magazine/Volume 3/Issue 18/Wilt Thou Understand?

Illustrated by A. Barraud.
Layout 4
Music composed by Jacques Blumenthal.
accel. ritard.
own, And thou a - lone, And thou a -lone, a-lone, . . . . Shalt hear and un- der-
Cantabile. poco accel.
stand; And thou a - lone, And thou a - lone, And thou, . . thou a -
Appasionato e sempre crescendo. poco accel.
ri - tar - dan - do molto.
lone, shalt hear un - - - - - - - - der - stand.
ri - tar -dan - do. tempo.
Ped.
rit. ritardando.
# The Tale of Beowulf/Chapter 12

XII. GRENDEL COMETH INTO HART: OF THE STRIFE BETWIXT HIM AND BEOWULF.
# The Tale of Beowulf/Chapter 15

XV. KING HROTHGAR AND HIS THANES LOOK ON THE ARM OF GRENDEL. CONVERSE BETWIXT HROTHGAR AND BEOWULF CONCERNING THE BATTLE.
# The Tale of Beowulf/Chapter 1

THE STORY OF BEOWULF
I. AND FIRST OF THE KINDRED OF HROTHGAR.
# The Tale of Beowulf/Chapter 13

XIII. BEOWULF HATH THE VICTORY: GRENDEL IS HURT DEADLY AND LEAVETH HAND AND ARM IN THE HALL.
# The Tale of Beowulf

* related portals: Old English literature.
* sister projects: Wikipedia article, Commons gallery, Commons category, quotes, Wikidata item.
THE TALE OF BEOWULF
BIBLIOGRAPHICAL NOTE
First printed at the Kelmscott Press, January 1895
New Edition, August 1898
THE TALE OF BEOWULF SOMETIME KING OF THE FOLK OF THE WEDER GEATS TRANSLATED BY WILLIAM MORRIS AND A. J. WYATT
LONGMANS, GREEN, AND CO. 39 PATERNOSTER ROW, LONDON NEW YORK AND BOMBAYMDCCCXCVIII
Printed by Ballantyne, Hanson & Co.
At the Ballantyne Press
* Argument
* Chapter 1
* Chapter 2
* Chapter 3
* Chapter 4
* Chapter 5
* Chapter 6
* Chapter 7
* Chapter 8
* Chapter 9
* Chapter 10
* Chapter 11
* Chapter 12
* Chapter 13
* Chapter 14
* Chapter 15
* Chapter 16
* Chapter 17
* Chapter 18
* Chapter 19
* Chapter 20
* Chapter 21
* Chapter 22
* Chapter 23
* Chapter 24
* Chapter 25
* Chapter 26
* Chapter 27
* Chapter 28
* Chapter 29
* Chapter 30
* Chapter 31
* Chapter 32
* Chapter 33
* Chapter 34
* Chapter 35
* Chapter 36
* Chapter 37
* Chapter 38
* Chapter 39
* Chapter 40
* Chapter 41
* Chapter 42
* Chapter 43
* Persons and Places
* Glossary
This work is a translation and has a separate copyright status to the applicable copyright protections of the original content.
# The Tale of Beowulf/Chapter 10

X. BEOWULF MAKES AN END OF HIS TALE OF THE SWIMMING. WEALHTHEOW, HROTHGAR'S QUEEN, GREETS HIM; AND HROTHGAR DELIVERS TO HIM THE WARDING OF THE HALL.
# The Tale of Beowulf/Chapter 14

XIV. THE DANES REJOICE; THEY GO TO LOOK ON THE SLOT OF GRENDEL, AND COME BACK TO HART, AND ON THE WAY MAKE MERRY WITH RACING AND THE TELLING OF TALES.
# The Tale of Beowulf/Chapter 11

XI. NOW IS BEOWULF LEFT IN THE HALL ALONE WITH HIS MEN.
# The Tale of Beowulf/Chapter 16

XVI. HROTHGAR GIVETH GIFTS TO BEOWULF.
# The Waterfall and the Eglantine

* "The Waterfall and the Eglantine" in Lyrical Ballads Volume II (1800)
* "The Waterfall and the Eglantine" in Poems Volume I (1815)
# The Wave: An Egyptian Aftermath
## Contents
### Part I

* Chapter I
* Chapter II
* Chapter III
* Chapter IV
* Chapter V
* Chapter VI
* Chapter VII

### Part II

* Chapter VIII
* Chapter IX
* Chapter X
* Chapter XI
* Chapter XII

### Part III

* Chapter XIII
* Chapter XIV
* Chapter XV
* Chapter XVI
* Chapter XVII
* Chapter XVIII
* Chapter XIX
* Chapter XX
* Chapter XXI
* Chapter XXII
* Chapter XXIII
* Chapter XXIV
* Chapter XXV
* Chapter XXVI
* Chapter XXVII

### Part IV

* Chapter XXVIII
* Chapter XXIX
* Chapter XXX
* Chapter XXXI
* Chapter XXXII
* Chapter XXXIII
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 1951, so this work is in the public domain in countries and areas where the copyright term is the author's life plus 72 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 Watsons
## References

* ↑ See this version on Internet Archive.
# The Water is Wide (Alan Sim 3)

The water is wide, I cannot get o'er, And neither have I wings to fly, O, go and get me some little boat, To carry o'er my true love and I.
A-down in the meadow the other day, A-gath'ring flowers both fine and gay, A-gath'ring flowers both red and blue, I little thought what love can do.
I put my hand into some soft bush, Thinking the fairest flower to pluck; I pricked my finger unto the bone And left the fairest flower alone.
I leaned my back against some oak, Thinking it was a trusty tree, But first he bended and then he broke, And so my true love proved false to me.
There is a ship sailing on the sea, She's loaded deep as deep can be; But not so deep as in love I am, I care not whether I sink or swim.
Where love is planted, O, there it grows, It grows and blossoms like the rose. It has a sweet and pleasant smell No flow'r on earth can it excel.
Must I be bound, O, and she go free, Must I love one that cannot love me ? Why must I play such a childish part, And love a girl that will break my heart ?
O, love is handsome and love is fine, And love is charming when it is true; As it grow older, it groweth colder, And fades away like the morning dew.
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 Water of Life (Grimm/Taylor)

* "The Water of Life" in German Popular Stories (1826) (transcription project)
* "The Water of Life" in Grimm's Goblins (1876)

## See also

* "The Water of Life" (1912), Taylor translation, revised by Marian Edwardes
This work is a translation and has a separate copyright status to the applicable copyright protections of the original content.
# The Works of the Rev. Jonathan Swift/Volume 18/Letter from Henry St. John to Jonathan Swift - 27

FROM MR. SECRETARY ST. JOHN.
I ASK pardon for my mistake, and I send you the right paper. I am, in sickness and in health, ever your faithful friend, and obedient servant,
H. ST. JOHN.
# The Works of the Rev. Jonathan Swift/Volume 18/Letter from Henry St. John to Jonathan Swift - 28

FROM LORD BOLINGBROKE,
THURSDAY MORNING, TWO O'CLOCK,
JAN. 5, 1712-13.
THOUGH I have not seen, yet I did not fail to write to lord treasurer. Non tua res agitur, dear Jonathan. It is the treasurer's cause; it is my cause; it is every man's cause, who is embarked on our bottom. Depend upon it, that I never will neglect any opportunity of showing that true esteem, that sincere affection, and honest friendship for you, which fill the breast of your faithful friend,
BOLINGBROKE.
# The Works of the Rev. Jonathan Swift/Volume 18/Letter from John Boyle to Jonathan Swift - 8

FROM THE EARL OF ORRERY.
I HAVE thought it more than a century since I saw you. I crawled out to you on Saturday, but was forced to come from your house and go to bed; since which time I have not stirred out of my chamber. My cold continues still bad; and has been hanging ​ upon me now for above a fortnight. Pray tell me when I may hope to see you again: et notas audire et reddere voces. I dine at home to morrow: will you share a fowl with me? I am scarce able to hold up my head; but the sight of you will go a great way toward recovering your ever obliged and faithful servant,
ORRERY.
# The Works of the Rev. Jonathan Swift/Volume 18/Letter from Charles Berkeley to Jonathan Swift - 1

FROM THE EARL OF BERKELEY.
CRANFORD, FRIDAY NIGHT, 1706-7.
I HOPE you continue in the mind of coming hither to morrow; for upon my sincerity, which is more than most people's, I shall be heartily glad to see you as much as possible before you go to Ireland. Whether you are or are not for Cranford, I earnestly entreat you, if you have not done it already, that you would not fail of having your bookseller enable the archbishop of York to give a book to the queen; ​for with Mr. Nelson, I am entirely of opinion, that her majesty's reading of that book of the project for the increase of morality and piety, may be of very great use to that end.
* ↑ He had been envoy extraordinary and plenipotentiary to the States General in 1689; and in 1699 and 1700 one of the lord justices of Ireland, where Dr. Swift had been his chaplain. This letter is endorsed by Dr. Swift "old earl of Berkeley, about 1706 or 1707." He died Sept. 24, 1710.
* ↑ Swift's Project for the Advancement of Religion, and the Reformation of Manners.
* ↑ Robert Nelson, esqr., the worthy and pious author of many excellent religious publications.