OpenLLM-France/wikimedia huggingface dataset:
# The Chinese Classics/Volume 2/The Works of Mencius/5

How a ruler may best take satisfaction for losses which he has sustained. That benevolent government will raise him high above his enemies.
1. King Hûi of Liang said, 'There was not in the nation a stronger State than Tsin, as you, venerable Sir, know. But since it descended to me, on the east we have been defeated by Ch'i, and then my eldest son perished; on the west we have lost seven hundred lî of territory to Ch'in; and on the south we have sustained disgrace at the hands of Ch'û. I have brought shame on my departed predecessors, and wish on their account to wipe it away, once for all. What course is to be pursued to accomplish this?'
2. Mencius replied, 'With a territory which is only a hundred lî square, it is possible to attain to the royal dignity.
3. 'If Your Majesty will indeed dispense a benevolent government to the people, being sparing in the use of punishments and fines, and making the taxes and levies light, so causing that the fields shall be ploughed deep, and the weeding of them be carefully attended to, and that the strong-bodied, during their days of leisure, shall cultivate their filial piety, fraternal respectfulness, sincerity, and truthfulness, serving thereby, at home, their fathers and elder brothers, and, abroad, their elders and superiors,-- you will then have a people who can be employed, with sticks which they have prepared, to oppose the strong mail and sharp weapons of the troops of Ch'in and Ch'û.
4. 'The rulers of those States rob their people of their time, so that they cannot plough and weed their fields, in order to support their parents. Their parents suffer from cold and hunger. Brothers, wives, and children are separated and scattered abroad.
5. 'Those rulers, as it were, drive their people into pit-falls, or drown them. Your Majesty will go to punish them. In such a case, who will oppose your Majesty?
6. 'In accordance with this is the saying,-- "The benevolent has no enemy." I beg your Majesty not to doubt what I say.'
# The Chinese Classics/Volume 2/The Works of Mencius/1

Mencius went to see king Hûi of Liang.
 The king said, 'Venerable sir, since you have not counted it far to come here, a distance of a thousand lî, may I presume that you are provided with counsels to profit my kingdom?'
 Mencius replied, 'Why must your Majesty use that word "profit?" What I am provided with, are counsels to benevolence and righteousness, and these are my only topics.
 'If your Majesty say, "What is to be done to profit my kingdom?" the great officers will say, "What is to be done to profit our families?" and the inferior officers and the common people will say, "What is to be done to profit our persons?" Superiors and inferiors will try to snatch this profit the one from the other, and the kingdom will be endangered. In the kingdom of ten thousand chariots, the murderer of his sovereign shall be the chief of a family of a thousand chariots. In the kingdom of a thousand chariots, the murderer of his prince shall be the chief of a family of a hundred chariots. To have a thousand in ten thousand, and a hundred in a thousand, cannot be said not to be a large allotment, but if righteousness be put last, and profit be put first, they will not be satisfied without snatching all.
 'There never has been a benevolent man who neglected his parents. There never has been a righteous man who made his sovereign an after consideration.
 'Let your Majesty also say, "Benevolence and righteousness, and let these be your only themes." Why must you use that word -- "profit?".
# The Bee-man of Orn, and other fanciful tales/front matter

BY FRANK R. STOCKTON
RUDDER GRANGE THE LATE MRS. NULL ARDIS CLAVERDEN THE HOUSE OF MARTHA POMONA'S TRAVELS THE ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN HORN MRS. CLIFF'S YACHT THE GIRL AT COBHURST THE LADY OR THE TIGER THE CHRISTMAS WRECK THE BEE-MAN OF ORN AMOS KILBRIGHT THE RUDDER GRANGERS ABROAD THE WATCHMAKER'S WIFE A STORY TELLER'S PACK AFIELD AND AFLOAT JOHN GAYTHER'S GARDEN A CHOSEN VIEW
ROUNDABOUT RAMBLES TALES OUT OF SCHOOL A JOLLY FELLOWSHIP THE FLOATING PRINCE THE TING-A-LING TALES THE STORY OF VITEAU PERSONALLY CONDUCTED THE CLOCKS OF RONDAINE THE QUEEN'S MUSEUM FANCIFUL TALES
CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS
# The Bee Hunter (serial)

* information about this edition.
* sister projects: Commons category, Wikidata item.
As serialized in The Ladies' Home Journal, 1925 Feb to May. Charles S. Chapman.
The Bee Hunter
By Zane Grey
Illustrations by Charles S. Chapman
“WE'RE ON TOP OF CEDAR RIDGE, LOOKING DOWN UPON THE HOMES OF THE BACKWOODSMEN YOU'VE COME TO LIVE AMONG”
* Part I feb 1922
* Part II mar 1922
* Part III apr 1922
* Part IV may 1922
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 1939, so this work is in the public domain in countries and areas where the copyright term is the author's life plus 84 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 Cinema Murder/Book 3

BOOK III
* Chapter I, 135
* Chapter II, 145
* Chapter III, 152
* Chapter IV, 165
* Chapter V, 172
* Chapter VI, 181
* Chapter VII, 188
* Chapter VIII, 200
* Chapter IX, 212
* Chapter X, 220
* Chapter XI, 229
* Chapter XII, 242
* Chapter XIII, 253
* Chapter XIV, 261
* Chapter XV, 271
* Chapter XVI, 283
* Chapter XVII, 292
# The Collected Works of Theodore Parker/Volume 06

CONTENTS TO VOL. II.
THE
COLLECTED WORKS
OF
THEODORE PARKER
MINISTER OF THE TWENTY-EIGHTH CONGREGATIONAL SOCIETY AT BOSTON, U.S.
CONTAINING HIS
THEOLOGICAL, POLEMICAL, AND CRITICAL WRITINGS, SERMONS, SPEECHES, AND ADDRESSES, AND LITERARY MISCELLANIES.
EDITED BY
FRANCES POWER COBBE.
VOL. VI.
SERMONS OF THEISM, ATHEISM, AND THE POPULAR THEOLOGY.
Second Edition.
LONDON:
N. TRÜBNER & CO., 60, PATERNOSTER ROW.
1867.
LONDON: W. STEVENS PRINTER, 87 BELL YARD TEMPLE BAR.
DISCOURSES
OF
SLAVERY.
BY
THEODORE PARKER.
VOL. II.
LONDON:
TRÜBNER & CO., 60, PATERNOSTER ROW.
1864.
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 Collected Works of Theodore Parker/Volume 05/Preface

PREFACE.
There can hardly fail at the present time to attach a mournful interest to these Discourses on Slavery by Theodore Parker. Few will read them and see how deeply their author's heart was engaged in the cause of Negro Emancipation, without being touched by the thought that in the great struggle now passing in America, the voice which would have spoken loudest for right and justice has been silent, and the brave soul which would have exulted in the triumph of freedom has passed away from earth beyond the tidings of the conflict, perhaps beyond the echoes of that last glad Te Deum which shall arise from an enfranchised race and a regenerated land.
Another and a brighter interest will doubtless cling to these Discourses in times to come, when slavery shall have been swept from the world, and men look back to its stupendous wrong with the same wondering horror ​wherewith we now regard the tyrannies of feudalism and the cruelties of the Inquisition. It will then be remembered with joy that the first preacher of pure Theism was also the fearless denouncer of the great National Crime of his age—that crime which the Churches of his land were rarely found to condemn, and often to justify and defend.
F. P. C.
Switzerland, August, 1863
# The Complete Poems of Francis Ledwidge/Last Songs/Lady Fair

LADY FAIR
Lady fair, have we not met In our lives elsewhere? Darkling in my mind to-night Faint fair faces dare Memory's old unfaithfulness To what was true and fair. Long of memory is Regret, But what Regret has taken flight Through my memory's silences? Lo! I turn it to the light. 'Twas but a pleasure in distress, Too faint and far off for redress. But some light glancing in your hair ​And in the liquid of your eyes Seem to murmur old good-byes In our lives elsewhere. Have we not met, Lady fair?
Londonderry, October 27th, 1916.
# The Complete Poems of Francis Ledwidge/Last Songs/Song-time is Over

SONG-TIME IS OVER
I will come no more awhile, Song-time is over. A fire is burning in my heart, I was ever a rover.
You will hear me no more awhile, The birds are dumb, And a voice in the distance calls "Come," and "Come,"
December 13th, 1916.
# The Complete Poems of Francis Ledwidge/Last Songs/Spring

SPRING
Once more the lark with song and speed Cleaves through the dawn, his hurried bars Fall, like the flute of Ganymede Twirling and whistling from the stars.
The primrose and the daffodil Surprise the valleys, and wild thyme Is sweet on every little hill, When lambs come down at folding time.
In every wild place now is heard The magpie's noisy house, and through The mingled tunes of many a bird The ruffled wood-dove's gentle coo.
​Sweet by the river's noisy brink The water-lily bursts her crown, The kingfisher comes down to drink Like rainbow jewels falling down.
And when the blue and grey entwine The daisy shuts her golden eye, And peaces wraps all those hills of mine Safe in my dearest memory.
France, March 8th, 1917.
# The Complete Poems of Francis Ledwidge/Last Songs/Ireland

IRELAND
I called you by sweet names by wood and linn, You answered not because my voice was new, And you were listening for the hounds of Finn And the long hosts of Lugh.
And so, I came unto a windy height And cried my sorrow, but you heard no wind, For you were listening to small ships in flight, And the wail on hills behind.
And then I left you, wandering the war Armed with will, from distant goal to goal, To find you at the last free as of yore, Or die to save your soul.
​And then you called to us from far and near To bring your crown from out the deeps of time, It is my grief your voice I couldn't hear In such a distant clime.
# The Complete Poems of Francis Ledwidge/Last Songs/Old Clo'

OLD CLO'
I was just coming in from the garden, Or about to go fishing for eels, And, smiling, I asked you to pardon My boots very low at the heels. And I thought that you never would go, As you stood in the doorway ajar, For my heart would keep saying, "Old Clo', You're found out at last as you are."
I was almost ashamed to acknowledge That I was the quarry you sought, For was I not bred in a college And reared in a mansion, you thought. ​And now in the latest style cut With fortune more kinder I go To welcome you half-ways. Ah! but I was nearer the gods when "Old Clo'."
# The Complete Poems of Francis Ledwidge/Last Songs/Soliloquy

SOLILOQUY
When I was young I had a care Lest I should cheat me of my share Of that which makes it sweet to strive For life, and dying still survive, A name in sunshine written higher Than lark or poet dare aspire.
But I grew weary doing well, Besides, 'twas sweeter in that hell, Down with the loud banditti people Who robbed the orchards, climbed the steeple For jackdaws' eggs and made the cock Crow ere 'twas daylight on the clock. I was so very bad the neighbours Spoke of me at their daily labours. ​And now I'm drinking wine in France, The helpless child of circumstance. To-morrow will be loud with war, How will I be accounted for?
It is too late now to retrieve A fallen dream, too late to grieve A name unmade, but not too late To thank the gods for what is great; A keen-edged sword, a soldier's heart, Is greater than a poet's art. And greater than a poet's fame A little grave that has no name.
# The Complete Poems of Francis Ledwidge/Last Songs/Spring Love

SPRING LOVE
I saw her coming through the flowery grass, Round her swift ankles butterfly and bee Blent loud and silent wings; I saw her pass Where foam-bows shivered on the sunny sea.
Then came the swallow crowding up the dawn, And cuckoo-echoes filled the dewy South. I left my love upon the hill, alone, My last kiss burning on her lovely mouth.
B.E.F.—December 26th, 1916.
# The Complete Poems of Francis Ledwidge/Last Songs/The Find

THE FIND
I took a reed and blew a tune, And sweet it was and very clear To be about a little thing That only few hold dear.
Three times the cuckoo named himself, But nothing heard him on the hill, Where I was piping like an elf The air was very still.
'Tw'as all about a little thing I made a mystery of sound, I found it in a fairy ring Upon a fairy mound.
June 2nd, 1917.
# The Complete Poems of Francis Ledwidge/Last Songs/Pan

PAN
He knows the safe ways and unsafe And he will lead the lambs to fold, Gathering them with his merry pipe, The gentle and the overbold.
He counts them over one by one, And leads them back by cliff and steep, To grassy hills where dawn is wide, And they may run and skip and leap.
And just because he loves the lambs He settles them for rest at noon, And plays them on his oaten pipe The very wonder of a tune.
France, March 11th, 1917.
# The Complete Poems of Francis Ledwidge/Last Songs/The Dead Kings

THE DEAD KINGS
All the dead kings came to me At Rosnaree, where I was dreaming. A few stars glimmered through the morn, And down the thorn the dews were streaming.
And every dead king had a story Of ancient glory, sweetly told. It was too early for the lark, But the starry dark had tints of gold.
I listened to the sorrows three Of that Eirë passed into song. A cock crowed near a hazel croft, And up aloft dim larks winged strong.
​And I, too, told the kings a story Of later glory, her fourth sorrow: There was a sound like moving shields In high green fields and the lowland furrow.
And one said: "We who yet are kings Have heard these things lamenting inly." Sweet music flowed from many a bill And on the hill the morn stood queenly.
And one said: "Over is the singing, And bell bough ringing, whence we come; With heavy hearts we'll tread the shadows, In honey meadows birds are dumb."
And one said: "Since the poets perished And all they cherished in the way, Their thoughts unsung, like petal showers Inflame the hours of blue and gray."
​And one said: "A loud tramp of men We'll hear again at Rosnaree." A bomb burst near me where I lay. I woke, 'twas day in Picardy.
France, January 7th, 1917.
# The Complete Poems of Paul Laurence Dunbar/She Told Her Beads

SHE TOLD HER BEADS
She told her beads with down-cast eyes,  Within the ancient chapel dim;  And ever as her fingers slim Slipt o'er th' insensate ivories, My rapt soul followed, spaniel-wise. Ah, many were the beads she wore;  But as she told them o'er and o'er, They did not number all my sighs. My heart was filled with unvoiced cries  And prayers and pleadings unexpressed;  But while I burned with Love's unrest, She told her beads with down-cast eyes.
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 Complete Poems of Paul Laurence Dunbar/Riding To Town

RIDING TO TOWN
When labor is light and the morning is fair, I find it a pleasure beyond all compare To hitch up my nag and go hurrying down And take Katie May for a ride into town;  For bumpety-bump goes the wagon,  But tra-la-la-la our lay. There's joy in a song as we rattle along  In the light of the glorious day.
A coach would be fine, but a spring wagon's good; My jeans are a match for Kate's gingham and hood; The hills take us up and the vales take us down, But what matters that? we are riding to town,  And bumpety-bump goes the wagon,  But tra-la-la-la sing we. There's never a care may live in the air  That is filled with the breath of our glee.
And after we've started, there's naught can repress The thrill of our hearts in their wild happiness; The heavens may smile or the heavens may frown, And it's all one to us when we're riding to town.  For bumpety-bump goes the wagon,  But tra-la-la-la we shout, For our hearts they are clear and there 's nothing to fear,  And we've never a pain nor a doubt.
The wagon is weak and the roadway is rough, And tho' it is long it is not long enough, For mid all my ecstasies this is the crown To sit beside Katie and ride into town,  When bumpety-bump goes the wagon,  But tra-la-la-la our song; And if I had my way, I 'd be willing to pay  If the road could be made twice as long.
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 Complete Poems of Paul Laurence Dunbar/Right's Security

RIGHT'S SECURITY
What if the wind do howl without, And turn the creaking weather-vane; What if the arrows of the rain Do beat against the window-pane? Art thou not armored strong and fast Against the sallies of the blast? Art thou not sheltered safe and well Against the flood's insistent swell?
What boots it, that thou stand'st alone, And laughest in the battle's face When all the weak have fled the place And let their feet and fears keep pace? Thou wavest still thine ensign, high, And shoutest thy loud battle-cry; Higher than e'er the tempest roared, It cleaves the silence like a sword.
Right arms and armors, too, that man Who will not compromise with wrong; Though single, he must front the throng, And wage the battle hard and long. Minorities, since time began, Have shown the better side of man; And often in the lists of Time One man has made a cause sublime!
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 Complete Poems of Paul Laurence Dunbar/Silence

SILENCE
'T is better to sit here beside the sea, Here on the spray-kissed beach, In silence, that between such friends as we Is full of deepest speech.
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 Complete Poems of Paul Laurence Dunbar/Scamp

SCAMP
Ain't it nice to have a mammy  W'en you kin' o' tiahed out Wid a-playin' in de meddah,  An' a-runnin' roun' about Till hit's made you mighty hongry,  An' yo' nose hit gits to know What de smell means dat 's a-comin'  F'om de open cabin do'?  She wash yo' face,  An' mek yo' place,  You's hongry as a tramp; Den hit's eat you suppah right away,  You sta'vin' little scamp.
W'en you's full o' braid an' bacon,  An' dey ain't no mo' to eat, An' de lasses dat's a-stickin'  On yo' face ta'se kin' o' sweet, Don' you t'ink hit's kin' o' pleasin'  Fu' to have som'body neah Dat'll wipe yo' han's an' kiss you  Fo' dey lif' you f'om you' cheah?  To smile so sweet,  An' wash yo' feet,  An' leave 'em co'l an' damp; Den hit's come let me undress you, now  You lazy little scamp.
Don' yo' eyes git awful heavy,  An' yo' lip git awful slack, Ain't dey som'p'n' kin' o' weaknin'  In de backbone of yo' back? Don' yo' knees feel kin' o' trimbly,  An' yo' head go bobbin' roun', W'en you says yo' "Now I lay me,"  An' is sno'in on de "down"?  She kiss yo' nose,  She kiss yo' toes,  An' den tu'n out de lamp, Den hit's creep into yo' trunnel baid,  You sleepy little scamp.
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 Complete Poems of Paul Laurence Dunbar/Signs Of The Times

SIGNS OF THE TIMES
Air a-gittin' cool an' coolah,  Frost a-comin' in de night, Hicka' nuts an' wa'nuts fallin',  Possum keepin' out o' sight. Tu'key struttin' in de ba'nya'd,  Nary step so proud ez his; Keep on struttin', Mistah Tu'key,  Yo' do' know whut time it is.
Cidah press commence a-squeakin'  Eatin' apples sto'ed away, Chillun swa'min' 'roun' lak ho'nets,  Huntin' aigs ermung de hay. Mistah Tu'key keep on gobblin'  At de geese a-flyin' souf, Oomph! dat bird do' know whut's comin';  Ef he did he 'd shet his mouf.
Pumpkin gittin' good an' yallah  Mek me open up my eyes; Seems lak it's a-lookin' at me  Jes' a-la'in' dah sayin' "Pies." Tu'key gobbler gwine 'roun' blowin',  Gwine 'roun' gibbin' sass an' slack; Keep on talkin', Mistah Tu'key,  You ain't seed no almanac.
Fa'mer walkin' th'oo de ba'nya'd  Seein' how things is comin' on, Sees ef all de fowls is fatt'nin'—  Good times comin' sho 's you bo'n. Hyeahs dat tu'key gobbler braggin',  Den his face break in a smile— Nebbah min', you sassy rascal,  He 's gwine nab you atter while.
Choppin' suet in de kitchen,  Stonin' raisins in de hall, Beef a-cookin' fu' de mince meat,  Spices groun'—I smell 'em all. Look hyeah, Tu'key, stop dat gobblin',  You ain' luned de sense ob feah, You ol' fool, yo' naik 's in dangah,  Do' you know Thanksgibbin 's hyeah?
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 Complete Poems of Paul Laurence Dunbar/She Gave Me a Rose

SHE GAVE ME A ROSE
She gave a rose,  And I kissed it and pressed it. I love her, she knows,  And my action confessed it. She gave me a rose,  And I kissed it and pressed it.
Ah, how my heart glows,  Could I ever have guessed it? It is fair to suppose  That I might have repressed it: She gave me a rose,  And I kissed it and pressed it.
'T was a rhyme in life's prose  That uplifted and blest it. Man's nature, who knows  Until love comes to test it? She gave me a rose,  And I kissed it and pressed it.
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 Complete Poems of Paul Laurence Dunbar/Robert Gould Shaw

ROBERT GOULD SHAW
Why was it that the thunder voice of Fate  Should call thee, studious, from the classic groves,  Where calm-eyed Pallas with still footstep roves, And charge thee seek the turmoil of the state? What bade thee hear the voice and rise elate,  Leave home and kindred and thy spicy loaves,  To lead th' unlettered and despised droves To manhood's home and thunder at the gate?
Far better the slow blaze of Learning's light,  The cool and quiet of her dearer fane, Than this hot terror of a hopeless fight,  This cold endurance of the final pain,— Since thou and those who with thee died for right  Have died, the Present teaches, but in vain!
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 Complete Poems of Paul Laurence Dunbar/Roses

ROSES
Oh, wind of the spring-time, oh, free wind of May,  When blossoms and bird-song are rife; Oh, joy for the season, and joy for the day,  That gave me the roses of life, of life,  That gave me the roses of life.
Oh, wind of the summer, sing loud in the night,  When flutters my heart like a dove; One came from thy kingdom, thy realm of delight,  And gave me the roses of love, of love,  And gave me the roses of love.
Oh, wind of the winter, sigh low in thy grief,  I hear thy compassionate breath; I wither, I fall, like the autumn-kissed leaf,  He gave me the roses of death, of death,  He gave me the roses of death.
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