OpenLLM-France/wikimedia huggingface dataset:
# Maid milking her cow/The Loving and United Valentine

The Loving and United Valentine.
ALL in the month of February, when the trees do bud and spring, And little lambs do skip like fairies, birds-do couple, build and sing, All things on earth that do draw breath, in love together they do join, Why should not I my fortune try, and chafe me out some Valentine.
Thanks to kind features, I have my wishes, since that I have met my dear, Your fair face and lovely kisses, your fair face doth my heart cheer, My dearth, love and turtle dove, O let my arms about thee twine, For thou art she that first I see, good-morrow my fair Valentine.
O no, kind Sir, you are mistaken, you must chase other maid, ​For young men are given to flatter, and so much to me you’ve said Pray do not stay me on the way, with those few lines which you have join'd, Let me alone, let me be gone, chuse you some other Valentine.
If kind Fate may be believed, when on you I first set fight, Surely I did love, believe me, and you are my beauty bright; Oft have ' wish’d for to be bless’d, in your fair presence to be join’d, And in my mind, maids should be kind, and loving to their Valentine.
To me, kind Sir. you are a stranger, maids must look before they leap, And in strange hands there is great danger, snakes under flowers often creep; I often had men’s words are wind, the fun doth set to brighter shine, After a calm there comes a storm, and then no more sweet Valentine.
But if I from my promise alter, let then nothing with me thrive, No, nor nothing with me thrive, whilst that I remain alive: Pains I'll not spare but I'll take care, for to maintain you neat and fine, And of the best that can be drest, then thou shalt eat, sweet Valentine.
​ For your affection kind Sir, I thank you, for it is more than I deserve, For I will be no longer cruel, but will a lover’s heart preserve; ‘Tis modesty makes maids deny, and from these words I do decline, So banish pain, take heart again, and I will be your Valentine.
# Maid milking her cow/Louisa the Fair

LOUISA the FAIR.
HOW oft, Louisa had thou said, nor wilt thou the fond boast disown, Thou would'ti not lose Anthonio’s love, to reign the partner of a throne.
And by those lips who spoke so kind, and by this hand I press to mine. To be the Lord of wealth and power, I swear I would not part with thine.
Then how my soul can we be poor, who own what kingdoms could not buy, Of this true heart thou shalt be Queen, and serving thee, a Monarch I.
Thus uncontroul’d in mutual biiss, and rich in love’s exhaustless mine, Do thou snatch treasure from my lips, and I’ll take kingdoms back from thine.
Glasgow, Printed by J. & M. Robertson Saltmarket, 1800.
# The Daily Telegraph

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British daily broadsheet newspaper; also known as "London Daily Telegraph"
Sort by date, title, or other :
| Date | Title |
| 1888-10-03Oct 03, 1888 | The Whitehall Murder |
| 1908-10-28Oct 28, 1908 | Interview with Kaiser Wilhelm |
| 1923-01-19Jan 19, 1923 | The Tomb Of Tutankhamen |
# Drowned mariner, or, The lowlands of Holland hath twin'd my love & me

THE
Drowned Mariner;
or, the
Lowlands of Holland hath twin’d my Love & me.
To which are added,
The SPORTING HAY-MAKERS.
ABSENT JOCKEY.
BY THAT BORROWED KISS.
TEMPLE OF FRIENDSHIP.
entered according to Order.
* The Low-lands of Holland hath twin'd my Love and Me
* The Sporting Hay-makers
* Absent Jockey
* By That Borrowed Kiss
* Temple of Friendship
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
# Drowned mariner, or, The lowlands of Holland hath twin'd my love & me/The Low-lands of Holland hath twin'd my Love and Me

The LOW-LANDS of HOLLAND hath twin’d my LOVE and ME
THE love that I have chosen, I‘ll therewith be content, The salt sea shall be frozen before that I repent; Repent it shall I never, until the day I die, But the lowlands of Holland, hath twin’d my love and me.
My love is on the salt sea, and I'm upon the side ’Nough to break a young thing’s heart, who lately was a bride, Who lately was a bonny bride, most pleasant for to see, But the lowlands of Holland, hath twin’d my love and me.
There shall no shirt go on my back, nor comb go in my hair, Neither shall coal nor candle light shine in my bower mair, Nor shall I choose another love, until the day I die: Since the lowlands of Holland, hath twin’d my love and me.
​ My love he built a bonny ship, and set her on the sea, With sevenscore brave mariners, to bear her company: There’s threescore of them were sunk, and threescore di’d at sea, And the lowlands of Holland hath twin’d my love and me.
Their main-mast was hewn down, their yards and rigging’s gone, Their ropes and their anchors, out o’er ship-board were thrown, Out o’er the ship-board were blown, by tempest in the sea, And the lowlands of Holland, hath twin’d my love and me.
My love hath built another ship, and set it on the main, let hath not twenty mariners, now for to bring her hame; The weary wind did rise again, the seas began to rout, My love then and his pretty ship, turn’d widdershins about..
New Holland is a barren place, in it there grows no grain, Nor yet no habitation within for to remain; The sugar canes are plenty, the wine drops from the tree,
​And the lowlands of Holland hath twin’d my love and me.
New Holland is a bonny place, but it is scant of men, Yet to conquer New-England, is what they do intend: For there is none can win them, for well they know the seas And the lowlands of Holland hath twin’d my love and me.
Be still, be still my daughter, be still and be content: There are more lads in Galloway, thou needs not so lament. O there are none in Galloway, not one that longs for me For I lov’d ne’er a love but one, who’s drowned in the sea.
He was my comely proper youth, I lov’d him for my part, But death has ta’en him from me, which sore affects my heart; And since that he’s departed I’ll mourn and weep always, That e’er he went to Holland, that was my earthly joys.
Unto the grave that he has gone, who was my comely dear, May heav’n receive my soul to rest, and guide me while I’m here.
​I'll still lament in brinish tears, until the day I die, since the lowlands of Holland hath twin'd my love and me.
# Drowned mariner, or, The lowlands of Holland hath twin'd my love & me/The Sporting Hay-makers

The SPORTING HAY-MAKERS.
IN the merry month of June, in the prime time of the year, Down in yonder meadow, there runs a river clear And many a little fish, doth in that river play, and many a lad and many a lass, went abroad in making hay.
In came a jolly scythe man, to mow the meadow down, With budget and with bottle of ale that’s stout and brown
All labouring men of courage bold, came there their skill to try, Let’s whet and blow’, and stoutly mow, for the grass cuts very dry.
There’s nimble Tib and Tom, with pitchfork and with rake, There’s Molly, Nell, and Susan, came here their hay to make: Sweet jug, jug, jug, jug, sweet jug, the Nightingale doth sing, From morning until evening, as they were a hay-making.
​ But when that bright Phoebus the sun was going down, A merry dispose'd piper, approaching from the town, Pull’d out his pipe and tabour, disposing for to play, Which made them all lay down their rakes, and leave off making hay.
So joining with the dance, we jig it on the green; Though tired with our labour, no weariness was seen; All tripping like to furies, our dance we did pursue, With leading up, and casting off, till the morning it’s in view.
Then each lad he takes his lass, the morning being come. And lays her down on the hay-cock, till the rising of the sun: There sporting all the time, while the harmless birds do sing, Each lad doth rise and take his lass, and away to the hay-making.
# Drowned mariner, or, The lowlands of Holland hath twin'd my love & me/Absent Jockey

ABSENT JOCKEY.
MY Jockey is fled from the plain, and left me in sorrow to mourn, Was ever so cruel a swain? ah! when will the rover return!
​No longer be pipes on his reed, no longer his praises I’ll tell, yet dull is the banks of the Tweed, since Jockey has bid them farewel.
His crook he has broken in twain, his sheep and his lambkins now stray, they bleet for their master in vain, and carefully wander away; then haste thou playsome shepherd so free, and call the poor flocks to their home, O be to them kinder than he who caus’d the poor wand’rers to roam.
Each virgin so happy and gay, attend to the words I impart, Be careful and cautious I pray how you give a young shepherd your heart, though Jockey was rural and neat, to me was most loving and kind, his manners were gentle and sweet, till cruelty grew m his mind.
# Drowned mariner, or, The lowlands of Holland hath twin'd my love & me/By That Borrowed Kiss

BY THAT BORROWED KISS.
CHLOE, by that borrowed kiss, I alas! am quite undone! Twas so sweet, so fraught with bliss, thousands will not pay that one!&c.
Left the debt shall break your heart, (roguish Chloe, smiling-, cries) some, a thousand, then, in part, for the present shall suffice, thousands &c.
# Drowned mariner, or, The lowlands of Holland hath twin'd my love & me/Temple of Friendship

TEMPLE OF FRIENDSHIP.
THO' Fortune & Love may be deities still. To those they oblige by their pow'r; For me part, they ever have used me ill, They cannot expect i'll adore: Hereafter a temple. to Friendship I’ll raise, And dedicate there all the rest of my days. To the Goddess accepted my vows, To the Goddess accepted my vows.
Thou perfect image of all things divine, Bright center of endless desires, May the glory be yours & the service be mine when I light at your altars the fires I offer a heart has devotion so pure, I would for your service all torments endure Might you have all things you wish, Might you have, &c
But yet the Goddess of fools to despise, I find I’m too much in her power; She makes me go where ’tis in vain to be wise In absence of her I adore. If love then undoes me before I get back, I still with refinement receive the attack, Or languish away in despair. Or languish away in despair.
FINIS.
# Excellent new song, called, The sprig of shilale, &c./The Sprig of Shilale and Shamrock So Green

THE SPRIG OF SHILALE AND SHAMROCK
SO GREEN.
O Love is the faul of a neat Iriſhman, He loves all the lovely, loves all that he can, With his Sprig of Shilale and Shamrock ſo green. His heart in good humour, 'tis honeſt and ſound, No malice or hatred is there to be found, He courts and he marries, he drinks and he fights, 'Tis love all for love for in that he delights, With his Sprig of Shilale and Shamrock ſo green.
Who has e'er had the luck to ſee Denny-brock fair, An Iriſhman all in his glory is there, With his Shrig &c With clothes ſpic and ſpán new without e're a ſpec, A neat Barcelona tied round his neat neck, He goes to a tent and he ſpends half a Crown, He meets with his friend and for love knocks him down With his Shrig, &c.
At evening returning as homeward he goes, His heart ſoft with whiſky his head ſoft with blows, From a Sprig, &c.
​He meets with his Shila who bluſhing a ſmile, Cries get you gone Pat yet conſents all the while, To a Prieſt ſoon they go, and nine months after that A fine baby cries how d'ye do father Pat, With your Sprig, &c.
Bleſs the country ſays I, that gave Patrick his birth, Bleſs the land of the oak and its neighbouring earth. Where grows the Shilale, &c. May the ſons of the Thames the Tweed and the Shannon, Drub the foes who dare plant in our confines a cannon United and happy and loyalty ſhine, May the Roſe and the Thiſtle long flouriſh and twine Round the Sprig of Shilale and Shamrock ſo green
# Excellent new song, called, The sprig of shilale, &c.

AN EXCELLENT
NEW SONG,
CALLED,
The Sprig of Shilale, &c.
To which are added,
The Soldier's Dream.
The Girl of my Heart.
The Bay of Biſcay, O!
Tam Glen.
Stirling, Printed in this preſent year.
* The Sprig of Shilale and Shamrock So Green
* The Soldier's Dream
* The Girl of My Heart
* The Bay of Biscay, O
* Tam Glen
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
# Excellent new song, called, The sprig of shilale, &c./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 guarded 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 dreadful array, For, if 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.
I flew to the pleaſant fields, travell’d 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, and fondly we ſwore From my houſe 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.
# Excellent new song, called, The sprig of shilale, &c./The Girl of My Heart

THE GIRL OF MY HEART.
I Have parks, I have grounds, I have deers, I have hounds, And for ſporting a neat little cottage; I have youth, I have wealth: I have ſtrength. I have health, Yet I mope like a beau in his dotage.
​What can I want?—'Tis the girl of my heart, To ſhare thoſe treaſures with me: For had I the wealth which the Indies impart, No pleaſure would it give to me, Without the lovely girl of my heart The ſweet lovely girl of my heart.
My domain far extends, and ſuſtains ſocial friends, Who make muſic divinely enchanting; We have balls, we have plays, we have routes, public days, And yet ſtill I find ſomething a-wanting. What ſhould it be! but the girl of my heart, To ſhare thoſe treaſures with we; And had I the wealth which the Indies impart, No pleaſure would it give me, Without the lovely girl of my heart, The ſweet lovely girl of my heart For what is the wealth which the Indies impart Compared to the girl of my heart? Then give me the girl of any heart,
# Excellent new song, called, The sprig of shilale, &c./The Bay of Biscay, O

THE BAY OF BISCAY, O.
LOUD roar'd the dreadful thunder; The rain a deluge ſhow'rs! The clouds were rent aſunder, By lightning's vivid pow'rs! ​The night both drear and dark, Our poor devoted bark Till next day, There ſhe lay, In the Bay of Biſcay, O!
Now daſh'd upon the billow, Our op'ning timbers creak; Each fears a wat'ry pillow, None ſtop the dreadful leak! To cling to ſlipp'ry ſhrouds, Each breathleſs ſeaman crowds, As ſhe lay, Till the day, In the Bay of Biſcay, O!
At length the wiſh'd-for morrow Broke thro' the hazy ſky: Abſorb'd in ſilent ſorrow Each heav'd the bitter ſigh: The diſmal wreck to view, Struck horror to the crew, As ſhe lay, On that day, In the Bay of Biſcay, O!
Her yielding timbers ſever, Her pitchy ſeams are rent; When heav'n, all-bounteous ever, Its boundleſs mercy ſent! A ſail in ſight appears, ​We hail her with three cheers! Now we ſail With the gale, From the Bay of Biſcay, O!
# Excellent new song, called, The sprig of shilale, &c./Tam Glen

TAM GLEN.
My heart is a-breaking, dear ⟨auntie⟩; Some counſel unto me com len' To anger them a' is a pity, But what will I do wi' Tam Glen? I'm thinking, wi' ſic a braw fallow, In poortith I might mak a fen; What care I in riches to wallow, If I manna marry Tam Glen? What care I, &c.
There's Lowrie, the laird of Drummiller, Gude day to you, brute, he comes ben,; He brags and he blaws o' his filler, But whan will he dance like Tam Glen? My minnie does conſtantly deave me An' bids me beware o' young men; They flatter, ſhe ſays, to deceive me, But wha can think fae o' Tam Glen? They flatter, &c.
My daddie ſays, gin I'll forſake him, He'll gie me gude hunder marks ten; But if its ordain'd I maun take him,
​O wha will I get but Tam Glen! Yeſtreen at the valentines dealin', My heart to my mou' gied a ſtén', For thrice I drew ane without failin', And thrice it was written, Tam Glen. For thrice, &c.
The laſt halloween I was waukin' My droukit ſark ſleeve, as ye ken, His likeneſs cam up the houſe ſtaukin', An' the very grey breeks o' Tam Glen Come counſel, dear Titty, don't tarry; I'll gi'e you my bonie black hen, Gin ye will advise me to marry The lad I love dearly, Tam Glen Gin ye will, &c.
FINIS.
# Five sonsg (sic)

Five Sonsg.
The Traquire Shepherd.
My Native Caledonia.
My Trusty Friend.
A Dandy described, or, a peep at High Life.
The bewildred Maid.
Edinburgh: Printed by J. Morren.
* The Traquire Shepherds
* My Native Caledonia
* My Trusty Friend
* A Dandy Described; or, a Peep at Fashionable Life
* The Bewildered Maid
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
# Five sonsg (sic)/My Native Caledonia

My Native, Caledonia.
WAE w(illegible text) heart when I parted wi' my Jean, And fair fair sighed while the tears stood in my cen(illegible text) But my daddy being poor, and my portion it was sma’, Which made me leave my Jean and Caledonia.
When I think on thee, & the happy days I’ve been, While wandering with my deary, where the primrose blaws unseen, I'm wae to leave my Jeany and my daddy's cot & a’ Or to leave the healthsome braes o' Caledonia.
But where ever I wander, still happy be my Jean, Nae cares disturb her bosom, where peace has ever been; Then though ills and ills befa‘ me, for her I‘ll bear them a‘, And I'll often heave a sigh for her and Caledonia.
But if fortune should be mine, and my Jeany still prove true, ​O blaw ye favourite breezes till my (illegible text) land I view, When we'll meet on Scotia those (illegible text)ere grateful tears shall fa', Then I'll never leave my Jean and Caledonia.
# Five sonsg (sic)/My Trusty Friend

My Trusty Friend,
Tune—John Anderfon my jo, JOHN MERCER, my dear friend, John, Your heart is ever kind, Fu' oft a trusty friend, John, You’ve proved to me and mine, When fortune threatened me, John, You did avert the blow, Heaven reward your generous mind, John Mercer, friend and jo.
John Mercer, my dear friend, John Thro’ nature's greatest plan, In all her blessings here, John, And comforts unto man, The noblest of them all, John, I’m sure you’ll own it so, Concentr’d in a trnity friend, John Mercer, friend and jo.
John Mercer, my dear friend, John, Then let me sing thy fame, Its gratitude alone, John, That makes so bold a claim, ​And what f(illegible text) requires of me, John, Is justly what is due, Rewards of true fidelity, John Mercer friend and jo.
John Mercer, my dear friend, When car(illegible text)ered care and strife, And each corroding ill, John That threatened human life When fo(illegible text) disease and death John, Brings fast her dreadful blow, It’s then we need a trusty friend, John Mercer, friend and jo.
⟨John⟩ Mercer. my dear friend, John, Our eyes will close in death, Then out souls will take their flight, John, To that Him who gave us breath, And there near Sarah’s bosom, We’ll hallelujahs sing, And rejoice throughout eternity, With oar sin forgiving KING.
# Five sonsg (sic)/A Dandy Described; or, a Peep at Fashionable Life

A Dandy Described; or a Peep at Fa
shionable Life,
I'se a poor simple clown, and just cme to town, Where I’ve seen all the sights that can be O And with me to bring back of fashion I've a sack, For all I've heard or seen, I's quite the Dandy O- The great folks got such tricks, they never dine till six Then down goes the rum wine, and brandy O,
​To be stylish to outright you must sup at twelve at night, And to go to bed at daylight in all the dandy O.
Yon mun talk of plays and balls, and Madam Cata- lina's squ(illegible text), Who with a voice as ⟨sweet⟩ as sugar candy O, Three hundred pound by gum for singing is her sum, And for paying, Jacky B(illegible text) all the dandy O. Then the ladies make such rackets in their little jockey jackets, The black, brown, the fair and the sandy, O, With their trinkets and their lockets, b(illegible text) the deil of any pockets, But a little basket to carry is all the dandy O.
Then the beaus do strut and stare with high frizzled hair, Some short, some tall and some bandy O, With a towel round their neck, that at least would hold a peck, And so neatly stop their wizzen is the dandy O, Once fashion decreed that our heads should be found In blue and buff uniform and handy O Now the chatter is to keep up, Our ladies dress in buss, and invisible petticoats are the dandy O.
Now the ladies never fear when they go to take the air, At driving all the gentlemen are handy O, My lord he mounts the box, in a coat with twenty caps, And to be the prime whip which is all the dandy O
​A duel then to fight makes a great man outright, For nothing more stylish there can be O, (head, Than with an ounce of lead to be shot through the Taen a snug patent coffin is all the dandy O.
If France again should boast they'd soon invade our They'd find British sailors quite handy O. (coast, For all the world knows in conquering of our foes, The tars of Old England are the dandy O, If France again should boast they'll soon invade out They'll find British soldiers quite handy O, (coast; For all the world knows in conquering of our foes, His Grace the Duke of Wellington's the dandy O.
# Five sonsg (sic)/The Bewildered Maid

The bewildered Maid.
SLOW broke the light and sweet breathed the morn, When a maiden I saw sitting under a thorn, Her dark hair hung loose on her bare neck of snow, Her eyes look bewildered, her cheeks pale with woe. O whence is thy sorrows, fair maiden? said I, The green grave will answer she said with a sigh, The merry lark sweetly did sing o'er her head, But she thought on her grief and the battle she said.
The breeze murmured by, when she looked up forlorn Hark! hark! didst thou hear? 'twas the sigh of the morn They say that in battle my love lost his breath, But ah! 'twas the hawthorn that robbed his sweet breath; Comehere, gentle Robin live safe from he storm Is my bosom now sing, there my true love lies warm, Ah Robin, so constant my true love was brave Sweet Robin fhall fit and fing o'en my grave.
FINIS