OpenLLM-France/wikimedia huggingface dataset:
# Banks of the Ban/The Soldier's Dream

THE SOLDIER’S DREAM.
Our bugles had sung, for the night cloud had lower’d, and the centinel stars set the watch in the sky, And thousands had sunk on the ground, overpower’d; the weary to sleep, and the wounded to die.
When reposing that night on my pallet of straw, by the wolf-scaring faggot, and guarding the slain. At the dead of the night a sweet vision I saw, and twice ere the cock crew I dreamt it again.
Methought from the battle-field’s dreadful array, far, far I had roam’d on a desolate track, Till nature and sunshine disclos’d the sweet way to the house of my father, that welcom’d me back: ​flew to the pleasant fields, traveled so oft
in life’s morning march, when my bosom was young; I heard my own mountain-goats bleating aloft, and well knew the strain that the corn-reapers sung.
Then pledg’d we the wine cup, & fondly we swore, from my home and my weeping friends never to part; My little ones kiss’d me a hundred times o’er, and my wife sobb’d aloud in the fulness of heart.
Stay, stay with us, rest, thou art weary and worn, and fain was the war-broken soldier to stay; But sorrow return’d with the dawning of morn, and the voice in my dreaming ear melted away.
# Banks of the Ban/Edward and Mary

EDWARD AND MARY.
Deep in a vale a cottage stood, oft sought by travellers weary; And long it prov’d the blest abode of Edward and of Mary. For her be chac’d the mountain goat, o’er Alps and glaciers bounding; For her the chamois he would shoot, dark horrors all surrounding. ​But evening come, He sought his home; And anxious, lovely woman. She hail’d the sight, And every night The cottage rung. As they sung, Oh, dulce, dulce domum.
But soon, alas! the scene of bliss was chang’d to prospect dreary; For war and honour rous'd each Swiss, and Edward left his Mary, To bold St. Gotbard’s height he rush’d, gainst Gallia’s foes contending, And, by unequal numbers crush’d, he died his defending. The evening come, He sought not home; Whinst she—distracted woman— Goes wild with dread, Now seeks him dead, And hears the knell, That bids farewell To dulce, dulce domum!
# Banks of the Ban/The Maid of Erin

The Maid of Erin.
My thoughts delight to wander upon a distant shore, Where, lovely, fair, and tender, is she whom I adore; May Heav’n, its blessings sparing, on her bestow them free, The lovely Maid of Erin, who sweetly sang to me.
Had fortune fix’d my station, in some propitious hour, The monarch of a nation, endow’d with wealth and dow’r; That wealth and power sharing, my peerless queen should be The lovely Maid of Erin, who sweetly sang to me.
Altho’ the restless ocean may long between us roar, Yet while my heart has motion, she’ll lodge within its core; For artless and endearing, and mild and young is she, The lovely Maid of Erin, who sweetly sang to me. ​When Fate gives intimation, that my last hour is nigh. With placid resignation I’ll lay me down and die; Fond hope my bosom cheering, that I in heav’n shall see The lovely Maid of Erin, who sweetly snng to me.
# Banks of the Ban/Peggy Bawn

PEGGY BAWN.
As I came o’er the Highland hills, to a farmer’s house I came; The night being dark, and something wet I ventur’d into the same. Where I was kindly treated, and a pretty lass I spied, Who ask’d me if I had a wife? but marriage i denied.
I courted her the li’e-lang night, till near the dawn of day, When frankly she to me did say, alang with you I’ll gae; For Ireland is a fine country, and the Scots to you are kin; So I will gang alang with you, my fortune to begin. ​Day being come, and breakfast o’er, to the parlour I was ta’en; The gudeman kindly asked me, if I’d marry his daughter Jane? Five hundred merks I’ll give her, besides a piece of lan'; But scarcely had he spoke the word, till I thought of Peggy Bawn.
“ Your offer, Sir, is very good, and I thank you too,” said I; “But I cannot be your son-in-law, and I’ll tell you the reason why; My business calleth me in haste, I am the king’s servant bound, And I must gang awa’ this day, straight to Edinburgh town.”
Oh, Peggy Bawy, thou art my own, thy heart lies in my breast; And though we at a distance are, yet l love thee still the best; Although we at a distance are, and the seas between us roar, Yet I’ll be constant, Peggy Bawn, to thee for 'evermore.
FINIS.
# Tradesman's farewell/The Tradesman's Farewell

The Tradesman's Farewell.
Fare you well, dear wife and children, For now I'm going to sea; It grieves me to part with you, But here I cannot stay; Provisions are so very dear, And trading is so low, It grieves me for to part with you, But now it must be so.
My dear, said she, why should you venture Your life where cannons roar, To leave your wife and family Lamenting here on shore? Pray do not rove, but stay at home, Content your mind, my dear, The times my take a better turn In the ensuing year.
Molly, said he, believe me really, I tell you as a friend, There is no sign, or likelihood These pinching times will mend; The market’s been so very high, And the farmers still complain, That they cannot pay their rents But by high prices for the grain.
​Many a good mechanic, Through mere necessity, Is gone on board a man of war, And left his family; There’s scarce any encouragement For man’s industry, Tis better to serve the King, Than live in poverty.
Great numbers of our tradesmen Have nothing for to do; The weaver’s loom is idle, Which does his grief renew; What can surpass their great distress! Their comfort is but small; Instead of having a free trade, They have no trade at all.
Likewise those crafty meal-men Great profit they do make, And those cunning little bakers Advantages do take; The loaf is small, yet, after all, They crib an ounce or two; Poor people, by experience, They know it to be true.
The widows and their orphans, Alas! are in great need; To hear their lamentation Would make your heart to bleed
​Their hunger’s great, none can relate What hardships they endure; Few ever think upon them, And take pity on the poor.
Now to conclude, and end my song, May war’s effects decay, And the British manufactories Still flourish every day Dear Molly I am going To plough the raging main, May all happiness attend you Till I return again.
# Description of Pizzaro/Description of Pizzaro

DESCRIPTION OF PIZARRO.
From the county of Cork, you see I lately came, The harvest to reap, Mr Doodey’s my name; I, my cousin Shaun Shaughnessy met t’other day, And says he will you go to that thing call’d a play. With my loorel lol loo.
‘Ist the play that you mean, arrah Doodey you’re right, For they treat the whole town with Pizarro to night; Oh says he, if I’m treated, the thing’s nate and clane;’ But this treat as they calld it cost me a thirteen
The green thing drew up, and a lady I spied, A man came to kiss her, she scornfully cried, ‘Get out you blackguard or I'll bother your gig,’ Then in came Pizarro who growl'd like a pig.
In the ou’d gowry people’s time long, long ago, The Spaniards all walk'd to Peru you must know, Says they, ‘you must give up your cash and your keys,’ But one Captain Rolla said ‘No, if you please.’
​Then Rolla a speech made about swords and guns,
And he moved like a comet, amongst moons and suns;
Says he, ‘hate the Spaniards, or else you’ll all starve, So his majesty here are you willing to serve.’
Then what a confusion, hubbub and holla; ‘T'was fire away Spaniards, and leath’r away Rolla, Poor Murphy Alonica like a thief went to jail, But his neck is sav’d somehow, without giving bail.
Next Pizarro came in with a little garsoon, Who was handled by Rolla as l would a spoon; But whilst he was making a bridge, smithereens, He was shot by a villain behind all the scenes.
Then he gave to its mother this sweet little child And he looked about him as if he was wild; ‘Take the boy my dear cratur, ‘tis my blood that is spilt, To save him, oh blood and ’ounds! see how I‘m kilt.’
Then Alonza gave Paddy Pizarro a blow, That kill’d him as dead as ould Brien Boreau, At last on a board Rolla’s body they take, And twenty nate virgin's all join’d at his wake.
# Description of Pizzaro/Monseer Nong Tong Paw

MONSEER NONG TONG PAW.
John Bull for pastime took a prance, Some time ago, to peep at France, To talk of science and arts, And knowledge gain‘d in foreign parts, Monsieur obsequious heard him speak, Aud answer’d John in heathen Greek, To all he ask’d ‘bout all he saw, ‘Twas Monsieur Je vous n’ entends pas.
John to the Palais Royal came, Its splendor almost struck him dumb, I say, whose house is that there here; Hosse! Je vous n’ entends pas, Monsieur. What, Nong Tong Paw again, cries John, This fellow is some mighty Don; No doubt he‘s plenty for the maw, I'll breakfast with the Nong Tong Paw.
John saw Versailles from Marli‘s height, And cried astonish’d at the sight, Whose fine estate is that there here; Stat! Je vous n’ entends pas, Monsieur. His, what the land and houses too; The fellow's richer than a Jew, On every thing he lays his claw, I should like to dine with Nong Tong Paw.
​Next tripping came a courtly fair, John cried, enchanted with her air, What lovely wench is that there here; Ventch! Je vous n’ entends pas, Monsieur, What, he again? upon my life, A palace, lands, and then a wife; Sir Joshua might delight to draw, I should like to sup with Nong Tong Paw.
But, held, whose funeral's that? cries John, Je vous n' entends pas; what! is he gone; Wealth, fame, and beauty could not save Poor Nong Tong Paw then from the grave; His race is run his game is up, I‘d with him breakfast, dine, and sup, But since he chuses to withdraw, Goodnight t'ye Monseer Nong Tong Paw.
# Description of Pizzaro/Oh Nanny, Wilt Thou Gang With Me

OH NANNY, WILT THOU GANG WITH ME.
Oh Nanny, wilt thou gang with me, Nor sigh to leave the charming town; Can silent glens have charms for thee, The lowly cot and russet gown. No longer drest in silken sheen, No longer deck’d with jewels rare.
Say, canst thou quit the busy scene,
chorus.
Where thou wert fairest, where thou wert fairest, Where thou wert fairest of the fair.
O Nanny when thou’rt far awa, Wilt thou not cast a wish behind; Say canst thou face the slaky snaw, Nor shrink before the warping wind: O can that saft and gentlest mien, Severest hardships learn to bear, Nor, sad regret each courtly scene, Where thou wert fairest of the fair, &c.
O Nanny canst thou love so true, Thro‘ perils keen wi‘ me to gae, Or when thy swain mishap shall rue, To share wi’ him the pangs of wae, And when invading pains befall, Wilt thou assume the nurse‘s care; Nor wishful, those gay scenes recal, Where thou wert fairest of the fair, &c.
And when at last thy love shall die, Wilt thou receive his parting breath: Wilt thou repress each struggling sigh, And cheer with smiles the bed of death And wilt thou o‘er his much lov’d clay, Strew flowers; and drop the tender tear
​Nor then regret those scenes so gay, Where thou wert fairest of the fair, &c.
# Description of Pizzaro/The Bush Aboon Traquire

THE BUSH ABOON TRAQUIRE.
Hear me ye nymphs and every swain, I’ll tell how Peggy grieves me, Though thus I languish, thus complain; Alas, she ne‘er believes me. My vows and sighs like silent air, Unheeded never move her; At the bonny bush aboon Traquire, ‘Twas there I first did love her.
That day she smil’d and made me glad, No maid seem‘d ever kinder, I thought myself the luckiest lad, So sweetly there to find her. I try‘d to soothe my am‘rous flame, In words that I thought tender, I more than pass’d, I’m not to blame, I meant not to offend her.
Yet now she scornful flies the plain And fields we then frequented, Where’er we meet she shews disdain, She looks as not acquainted. The bonny bush bloom’d fair in May, Its sweets I’ll ay remember,
​But now her sweets makes it decay, It fades us in December.
Ye rural powers who hear my strains, Why thus should Peggy grieve me, Oh make her partner in my pains, Then let her smiles relieve me. If not my love will turn despair, My passion no more tender, l‘ll leave the Bush aboon Traquire, To lonely woods I’ll wander.
FINIS.
# Mill, mill, o

THE MILL, MILL, O,
BRUCE'S ADDRESS,
My only joe and dearie,
Cauld kail in Aberdeen,
AND,
THE BROOM OF
COWDENKNOWS.
EDINBURGH.
PRINTED FOR THE BOOKSELLERS.
1817.
* The Mill, Mill, O
* Bruce's Address
* My Only Jo and Dearie
* Cauld Kail in Aberdeen
* The Broom of Cowdenknowes
This work was published before January 1, 1930, and is in the public domain worldwide because the author died at least 100 years ago.
Public domainPublic domainfalsefalse
# Mill, mill, o/The Mill, Mill, O

THE MILL, MILL, O.
# Mill, mill, o/Bruce's Address

BRUCE'S ADDRESS.
# Mill, mill, o/My Only Jo and Dearie

MY ONLY JO AND DEARIE.
# Mill, mill, o/Cauld Kail in Aberdeen

CAULD KAIL IN ABERDEEN.
# Mill, mill, o/The Broom of Cowdenknowes

THE BROOM OF COWDENKNOWES
FINIS.
# The Girl With the Blue Sailor (Ladies' Home Journal serial)

* information about this edition
* sister projects: Wikidata item
As serialized in The Ladies' Home Journal, 1905 April to July.
Burton E. Stevenson tells a pleasant story most pleasantly.... It is a tale of summer days and summering people in a Catskill village. It is both easy reading and light reading. Yet it has the attractiveness that lies in an unstrained and appreciative handling of everyday affairs and the merit that lies in handling everyday affairs appreciatively. -Review in Life, 6 Sept 1906. [More titbits on the Discussion page]
THE SPARKLING NEW ROMANCE OF
The Girl With the Blue Sailor
   By Burton E. Stevenson, Author of “The Marathon Mystery,” “A Soldier of Virginia,” etc.
Drawings by Ch. Weber Ditzler
* Part 1 April 1905
* Part 2 May 1905
* Part 3 June 1905
* Part 4 July 1905
This work is in the public domain in the United States because it was published before January 1, 1930.
The longest-living author of this work died in 1962, so this work is in the public domain in countries and areas where the copyright term is the author's life plus 62 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
# Watty's wedding, or, The old maiden's marriage

Watty's Wedding,
OR, THE
Old Maiden's Marriage.
TO WHICH IS ADDED,
THE ANSWER TO Gragal Machree, Moll and her Miſtreſs, The Honest Sailor.
FALKIRK: printed & Sold by t. johnston. 1817.
* Watty's Wedding
* Answer to Gragal Machree
* Moll and Her Mistress
* The Honest Sailor
This work was published before January 1, 1930, and is in the public domain worldwide because the author died at least 100 years ago.
Public domainPublic domainfalsefalse
# Watty's wedding, or, The old maiden's marriage/Watty's Wedding

WATTY's WEDDING.
BETTY gaed to Watty's weddin', wow but ſhe was wondrous braw! A Dumbarton youth o' ſax-and thirty, juſt aboon't a year or twa, Wi' curl'd hair, and ſilken ſpencer, like a laſſie in her teens, Thought nane ken’d her brow was wrinkl’d, nor ſaw the ſcores about her een.
There's nae ſic cheats as mouly maidens, when for a man they're keenly bent, Mony a hundred plans they fa on, mony a trap they do invent: Will, a raw young ſimple callan, his eighteen year had ſcarcely ſeen, Kend little o the wyles o’ women, whan on him ſhe fix'd her een.
Whan ſhe danc'd, ſhe ſmil’d and caper’d, geck’d and toſs'd her head aroun’ And ſae bewitch'd him wi' her glances, Willie's heart began to ſtoun. Than he wou'd dance wi' nane but Betty, Betty ne'er refus'd to riſe, And met him half-road wi her kiſſes, a' to catch the youthfu’ prize.
​She ſaw the ſimple cuiſſ was gripped hard and faſt into her net, O'er the lugs in love was Willie, the bridal day that night was ſet. Haſty marriage ne’er was chancy, experience aft proves this owre true, If we would look before we loup ay, we ſeldom wou'd ha'e cauſe to rue.
New-married folks hae months o' pleaſure, if they never ſhou'd hae mair, Willie's honey-moon ⟨was⟩ ſhorter, Betty ſoon began to ſwear. Three ſhort weeks were ſcarcely over, when her birſe began to riſe, Quarrell’d a' thing, pleas'd wi' naething, but to wear the breeks ſhe tries.
Flytin', ragin', conſtant growlin', were a' the comforts that he knew; But ay an hour or twa 'fore bed-time calmer than a lamb ſhe grew. He threat'ned mony time to leave her, but that ne'er gard her change her tone, She aftentimes lent him a lounder, when her barlickhoods were on.
His youthfu’ heart wi' grief was broken, aft he ſigh'd, but ſigh'd in vain; But when his een began to open, ſoon reſolv'd to break his chain: ​He ſcorn'd to battle wi' a woman, but fell upon a better ſcheme, Aff he ſunn'd, but ne'er return'd to this ſurly grumblin' dame.
# Watty's wedding, or, The old maiden's marriage/Answer to Gragal Machree

ANSWER
TO GRAGAL MACHREE.
HARD by a clear fountain, in the ſweet month of May, In ſearch of my true love I happ'ned to ſtray; I heard a young damſel there loudly complain, In ſorrow, for parting from her darling ſwain.
O cruel parents, where-ever you be, That baniſh’d my darling ſweet Jamie from me; No ⟨other⟩ man breathing my favour ſhall gain, The pride of all nature's my own darling ſwain.
Thro' lonely wild deſarts and hills I'll roam, To wild birds and fiſhes I'll make my moan; All riches and grandeur I now will diſdain, Thro’ the world I'll wander for my darling ſwain.
His breath is more ſweet than the roſes in June! ​His eyes are like diamonds, or orbs of the moon! His ſkin like clear amber juſt from the mine! He's cut up to perfection my own darling ſwain.
My love he is proper, he's tall, and he's trim! There is none in the world that can equal him! All ſorrow and trouble I'll endure without pain, Was I ſure to meet with my darling ſwain.
My father he thought then his point for to gain, By parting his daughter from her darling ſwain; But, for to vex him, I ever will be Jamie's true and conſtant young Gragal Machree.
# Watty's wedding, or, The old maiden's marriage/Moll and Her Mistress

MOLL AND HER MISTRESS.
SAYS Moll to her Miſtress, I long to be marry'd, For there is great danger in too long delay; To ſee myself ſingle, my mind is uneasy, For marriage is pleasant, I hear people ſay: Besides, I'm fifteen, my days are a-wasting, Therefore I'm afraid lest my beauty decay; The boys ſay they love me, in truth they're not jesting, And oh! to be marry'd if this be the way.
​When I am enclos'd in the arms of my lover, He yields me much pleasure, I think I am blest; He oftentimes kisses me over and over, He oftentimes ſqueezes me unto his breast! He ſays that his love to me is encreasing, Those raptures of pleasure ſhall never decay, I think it's but folly my time to be wasting, And oh! to be marry'd if this be the way.
He call'd me his jewel, his joy, and his treasure, Without me there's nothing can yield him delight; He'll do his endeavour to keep me quite easy, And confort me always by day and by night: Therefore I do think there is nothing a-wanting, Could I but enjoy that happy day; And now I think it is time to be granting, And oh! to be marry'd if this be the way.
O foolish young girl, you talk to your knowledge, But little you know the danger you run; Before you're marry'd you think you have all things, And then you want ev'ry thing else but a man: Your husband will chide you, and ſay you are lazy, And ſwear that the tea takes the money away: Perhaps the next morning the Landlord will crave you, You ne'er wou'd a marry'd had you known the way.
And next, to your comfort, your apron's a-riſing, And you must provide for the crying out; Blankets, and pins, and tapes must be wanting, Your clothes must be broken to make baby-clouts; ​And nursing and ſpinning is all your employment, And twenty things more to do all the day; This is the fruit of your wedlock enjoyment, You ne'er wou'd a marry’d had you known the way.
Says Moll to her Miſtress, I pray you give over; For I am resolved for to take a man; The richest ſhip that ever was loaden, Muſt take her chance of both rock and ſand; Therefore I am fully reſolved to marry, Let you and every one ſay what they may; I long for to taste of wedlock enjoyments, And oh! to be marry'd if this be the way.
# Watty's wedding, or, The old maiden's marriage/The Honest Sailor

THE HONEST SAILOR.
That girl, who fain wou'd chuse a mate, shou'd ne'er in fondness fail her; May thank her lucky ⟨stars⟩, if Fate shou'd splice her to a Sailor: He braves the storm, the battle's heat, the yellow boys to nail her; Diamonds, if diamonds she could eat, wou'd seek her honest Sailor.
​If she be true, sure of his heart she never need bewail her; For tho' a thousand leagues apart, still constant is her Sailor: Tho' she be false, still he is kind, and comes with smiles to hail her; He trusting, as he trusts the wind, still faithleſs to her Sailor.
A butcher can procure her prog, three threads to drink, a taylor; What's that to biscuit, and to grog, procur'd her by her Sailor? She who wou'd such a mate ⟨refuse⟩, ill-nature sure must ail her: Search round, and if you're wise, you'll chuse to wed an honest Sailor.
F I N I S.
Falkirk—T. Johnston, Printer.—1817.
# Freemason's song

THE
FREEMASON‘S
SONG;
To which are added,
The Wexford Tragedy,
Or, The False Lover;
AND
My Friend and Pitcher.
The free and accepted mason.
Entered according to order.
1818.
* The Free Mason's Song
* The False Lover
* My Friend and Pitcher
This work was published before January 1, 1930, and is in the public domain worldwide because the author died at least 100 years ago.
Public domainPublic domainfalsefalse
# Freemason's song/The Free Mason's Song

THE
FREE MASON'S SONG.
Come let us prepare, We brothers that are Assembled on a merry occasion; Let's drink laugh and sing, Our wine has a spring, Here's a health to an accepted Mason.
The world is in pain Our Secret to gain, And still let them wonder & gaze on, They ne'er can divine The Word or the Sign Of a free and an accepted Mason.
'Tis this and 'tis that, They cannot tell what, Why so many great men of the nation Should aprons put on, To make themselves one With a free and an accepted Mason.
​Great kings, dukes, and lords, Have laid by their swords, Our myst’ry to put a good grace on, And ne'er been asham'd To hear themselves nam'd With a free and an accepted Mason.
Still firm to our trust, In friendship we're just, Our actions we guide by our reason; By observing this rule, The passions move cool Of a free and an accepted Mason.
All idle debate About Church and the State, The springs of impiety and treason These railers of strife Ne'er ruffle the life Of a free and an acccepted Mason.
Antiquity's pride We have on our side, Which adds high renown to our station;
​There's nought but what's good, To be understood By a free and an accepted Mason.
The clergy embrace, And all Aaron's race, Our square actions their knowledge to place on And in each degree They'll honoured be With a free and an accepted Mason.
We're true and sincere In our love to the fair, Who will trust us on every occasion; No mortal can more The ladies adore Than a free and an accepted Mason.
Then join hand in hand, To each other firm stand; Let's be merry and put a good face on What mortal can boast So noble a toast As a free and an accepted Mason.