OpenLLM-France/wikimedia huggingface dataset:
# Dearest Helen/Ianthe the Lovely

IANTHE THE LOVELY.
Ianthe the lovely, the joy of her swain, By Iphis was lov’d, and lov’d Iphis again; She lived in the youth, and the youth in the fair; Their pleasure was equal, and equal their care; No delight, no enjoyment, their dotage withdrew, But the longer they lived, still the fonder they grew.
A passion so happy alarm’d all the plain, Some envy’d the nymph but more envy’d the swain, Some swore 'twould be a pity their loves to invade, That the lovers alone for each other were made But all, all consented, that none ever knew A nymph be more kind, or a shepherd so true
Love saw them ,with pleasure, and vowed take care Of the faithful, the tender, the innocent pair; What either might want, he bid either to move But they wanted nothing but ever to love, He said all to bless them his godhead cou’d do That they still should be kind, and for ever true.
FINIS.
# Dearest Helen/Dearest Helen

DEAREST HELEN.
See the ship in the bay is riding, dearest Helen, I go from thee; Boldly go, in thy love confiding, o’er the deep and the trackless sea, When thy dear form no longer is nigh me; when thy sweet smile no longer I see, The dear reflection, disarming danger, my love is breathing a prayer for me.
When the thunder of war is roaring, when the bullets around me fly. When the tempest’s deluge is pouring, binding the billowy sea and sky; Yet shall my heart, to fear a stranger, cherish the fondest hope for thee, The dear reflection, disarming danger, my love is breathing a prayer for me.
# See the Ship

* "See the Ship", in Six excellant new songs (1826), a chapbook printed in Falkirk
* "The legacy", in She's fair an' fause (n.d.), a chapbook printed in Stirling
* "See the ship", in Six Love Songs (n.d.), a chapbook printed in Falkirk
* "Dearest Helen", in Dearest Helen (n.d.), a chapbook printed in Glasgow
# Six Love Songs (1830-1840)/See the ship

SONGS.
See the Ship.
See the ship in the bay is riding, Dearest Ellen, I go from thee; Boldly go, in thy love confiding, O'er the deep and the trackless sea. When thy loved form no more is near me, When thy sweet smile no longer I see, This soothing thought shall at midnight cheer me, My love is breathing a prayer for me.
Nor can Heaven, a deaf ear lending To its loveliest work below, The boon she begs, on her knees low bending, Refuse in goodness to bestow. So then, my Ellen, all doubts defying, Henry shall dauntless cross the wide sea, His heart on this firm anchor relying, My love is breathing a prayer for me.
When the thunder of war is roaring, And the bullets around me fly; When the rage of the tempests pouring, Blends the billowy sea and sky; Then shall my heart, to fear a stranger, Cherish its fondest hopes for thee, ​This dear reflection disarming danger, My love is breathing a prayer for me.
And when the din of war is over. And sweet peace sets the sailor free, With what joy shall your faithful lover Fly on love sweetest wings to thee! Then with delight each other caressing, Day after day we shall happier be, And as my Ellen tells o’er each blessing, She still will whisper a prayer for me.
# Six Love Songs (1830-1840)/I sigh for the girl I adore

I sigh for the Girl I adore.
When fairies trip o’er the gay green, And all nature seems sunk into rest; Thro’ valleys I wander unseen, My heart with sad sorrow opprest There oft by the murmuring streams, Fair Eleanor’s loss I deplore; As alone by the moons silver beams, I sigh for the girl I adoro.
When my flocks wander o’er the wide plain, To some thicket of woodbine I rove; The I pensively tune some soft strain, Or sing forth the praise of my love. Where does my fair Eleanor stray? Must I ne’er see the nymph any more? Thus destracted I mourn the long day, And sigh for the girl I adore.
​When first I beheld the sweet maid, By moonlight alone in the vale, Far, far from the village we stray’d, Where I tenderly told my soft tale. How long must I wander forlorn? Ah! when will my sorrows be o’er? Such grief it can never be born: I sigh for the girl I adore.
# Six Love Songs (1830-1840)/Haud awa frae me, Donald

Hand awa frae me, Donald.
Haud awa, bide awa, Haud awa frae me, Donald; What care I for a’ your wealth, An’ a’ that ye can gie, Donald ?
I wadna lea’ my Lowland lad For a’ your gowd an’ gear, Donald; Sae tak your plaid an o er the hill, An’ stay nae langer here, Donald. Haud awa, bide awa, &c.
My Jeamie is a gallant youth, I lo’e but him alane, Donald, And in bonny Scotland’s isle, Like him there is nane, Donald.
Haud awa, bide awa, Aaud awa frae me, Donald, What care I for a’ your wealth, An’ a’ that ye can gie, Donald?
​He wears nae plaid nor tartan hose, Nor garter at his knee, Donald, But, oh! he wears a faithfu heart, And love blinks in his e’e, Donald.
Sae haud awa, bide awa, Come nae mair at e’en, Donald; I wadna break my Jeamie’s heart, To be a Highland queen, Donald.
# Six Love Songs (1830-1840)/Had I the wyte

Had I the wyte she bade me.
Had I the wyte, had I the wyte, Had I the wyte she bade me? She watch’d me by the hiegate side, And up the loan she show’d me.
And when I wadna venture in, A coward loon she ca’d me: Had kirk and state been in the gate, I’d lighted when she bade me.
Sae craftilly she took me ben, And bade me make nae clatter; For our rumgunshoek, glum gudeman Is o’er ayont the water.
Whae’er shall say I wanted grace, When I did kiss and daut her, ​Let him be planted in my place, Syne say, I was a fautor.
Could I for shame, could I for shame, Could I for shame refus’d her? And wadna manhood been to blame, Had I unkindly us’d her.
He clawd her wi’ the rippling-kame, And blae and bluidy bruis’d her; When sie a husband was frae hame, What wife but wad excus’d her?
I dighted ay her een sae blue, And bann’d the cruel randy; And weel I wat, her willing mou Was e’n like sugarcandy.
At gloanin-shot it was I wat, I lighted on the Monday; But I cam thro’ the Tiseday’s dew, To wanton Willie’s brandy.
# Six Love Songs (1830-1840)/The fair young Knight

The fair young Knight.
At the Baron of Mowbray’s gate was seen A page with a courser black; There came out a knight of noble mein, And he leapt on the eourses back.
​His arms were bright, his heart was light, And he sung this merry lay, “How jollily lives this fair young knight, He loves and he rides away.”
A lady look’d over the castle wall, And she heard the knight thus sing: The lady’s tears began to fall, And her hands she began to wring.
“And didst thou then my true love plight, And was it but to betray? Ah! tarry a while, my own dear knight, In pity don’t ride away.”
The knight of her tears he took no heed, While scornful laugh’d his eye; He gave the spur to his prancing steed,——— “ Good b’ye, sweetheart, good b’ye.”
And soon he vanish’d from her sight, While she was heard te say, “Ah! ladies beware of a fair young knight He’ll love and he’ll ride away.”
# Six Love Songs (1830-1840)/Banks of Doun

Banks of Doun.
Ye banks and braes of bonny Doun, How can ye bloom so fresh and fair; How can ye chant ye little birds, While I’m so wae and fu’ o’ care?
​Ye’ll break my heart ye little birds, That wanton thro’ the flow’ring thorn, Ye mind me of departed joys, Departed never to return.
Oft have I roam’d by bonny Doun. To see the rose and woodbine twine, Where ilka bird sung o’er its note, And cheerfully I join’d wi’ mine.
Wi’ heartsome glee I pu’d a rose, A rose out o’ yon thorny tree; But my fause love has stown the rose, And left the thorn behind to me.
Ye roses blaw your bonny blooms, And draw the wild birds to thy burn; For Lumen promis’d me a ring, And ye maun aid me should I mourn.
Ah! na, na, na, ye needna mourn, My een are dim and drowsy worn; Ye bonny birds ye needna sing, For Luman never can return.
My Luman’s love, in broken sighs, At dawn of day by Doun ye’se hear, And mid-day, by the willow green, For him I’ll shed a silent tear.
Sweet birds, I ken ye’ll pity me, And join me wi’ a plantive sang, While echo wakes, and joins the mane I mak for him I lo’ed sae lang.
# She's fair an' fause

Date is estimated.
She's fair an' fause.
To which are added,
Johnny Coup,
Nobody coming to marry me.
THE LEGACY.
Kitty of the Clyde
And the Banks of Doon.
STIRLING,
Printed and Sold by M. Randall.
* She's fair an' fause
* Johnny Coup
* Nobody coming to marry me
* The Legacy
* Kitty of the Clyde
* The Banks of Doon
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
# She's fair an' fause/The legacy

The Legacy.
See the Ship in the bay is riding! Dearest Helen, I go from thee, Boldly go, in thy love confiding, O’er the deep and the trackless Sea, When thy dear form no more is near me, When thy sweet smile no longer I see, This soothing thought shall at midnight chear me, My Love is breathing a prayer for me.
​When the thunder of war is roaring! When the bullets around me fly When the rage of the tempest, pouring, Blends the billows sea, and sky, Yet shall my hear to fear a stranger, Cherish its fondest hopes for thee; This dear reflection disarming danger, My Love is brathing a prayer for me,
# 1911 Encyclopædia Britannica/Pelion

See also Pelion on Wikipedia; and our 1911 Encyclopædia Britannica disclaimer.
​PELION, a wooded mountain in Thessaly in the district of Magnesia, between Volo and the east coast. Its highest point (mod. Plessidi) is 5340 ft. It is famous in Greek mythology; the giants are said to have piled it on Ossa in order to scale Olympus, the abode of the gods; it was the home of the centaurs, especially of Chiron, who had a cave near its summit, and educated many youthful heroes; the ship “Argo” was built from its pine-woods. On its summit was an altar of Zeus Actaeus, in whose honour an annual festival was held in the dog-days, and worshippers clad themselves in skins.
# 1911 Encyclopædia Britannica/Pelisse

See also Pelisse on Wikipedia; and our 1911 Encyclopædia Britannica disclaimer.
​PELISSE (through the Fr. from Lat. pellicia: sc. vestis, a garment made of fur, pellis, skin), properly a name of a cloak made of or lined with fur, hence particularly used of the fur-trimmed “dolman” worn slung from the shoulders by hussar regiments. The word is now chiefly employed as the name of a long-sleeved cloak of any material worn by women and children.
# Pleasant Memories of Pleasant Lands 1842/Huntley-Burn

HUNTLEY-BURN.
Imp of the Cauldshiel's shaded tarn,
 Whence hast thou such a sparkling eye?
Such pleasant voice, thy tales to tell?
 Such foot of silver dancing by?
Like merry child of sombre sire,
 Thou charm'st the glen with playful wile,
Till the dark boughs that o'er thee droop
 Imbibe the magic of thy smile.
A favorite sprite thou wert of him,
 Who left to Abbotsford a name;
And to each zone of earth bequeathed
 Some planted scion of his fame.
Thou gav'st him gentle thoughts, at twilight dim, And now to us dost bear remembrance sweet of him.
October 1, 1840.
Huntley-Burn is a romantic stream issuing from a small lake, or tarn, on the estate at Abbotsford, and running a course of the wildest beauty, during which it falls over a steep bank into a natural basin, over-hung with the mountain-ash. It passes through a spot called the Rhymer's Glen, where, according to tradition, "Tam the Rhymour" used to hold intercourse with the Fairy Queen. It is in the vicinity of some of the plantings of Sir Walter Scott, and a place where he loved to wander by himself and with his guests. It was also still more endeared to him by the neighboring residence of the Ferguson family, with whom his own were in habits of delightful intimacy. To their hospitable roof he used to resort, when wearied with an irruption of visitants, or that vapid flattery, with which the heartless thought to compensate for their intrusions on his valuable time, which he sometimes complained to his friends was "pecked away by tea-spoonfuls."
Mention is made of the death of one of the young ladies of the family at Huntley-Burn, in a touching tribute of Lockhart to his departed wife, in the third volume of that interesting memorial of her father, which his powerful pen has completed for posterity.
"She, whom I may now sadly record as, next to Sir Walter himself, the chief ornament and delight of all our social meetings, she, to whose love I owed my own place in them, Scott's eldest daughter, the one of all his children, who in countenance, mind, and ​manners most resembled him, and who indeed was as like him in all things, as gentle, innocent woman can ever be to a great man, deeply tried and skilled in the struggles and perplexities of active life, she too is no more; and the very hour that saw her laid in her grave, her dearest friend, Margaret Ferguson, breathed her last also."
# The Story of Egil Skallagrimsson/Chapter 1

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CHAPTER I.
Of Kveldulf and his sons.
There was a man named Ulf, son of Bjalf, and Hallbera, daughter of Ulf the fearless; she was sister of Hallbjorn Half-giant in Hrafnista, and he the father of Kettle Hæing. Ulf was a man so tall and strong that none could match him, and in his youth he roved the seas as a freebooter. In fellowship with him was one Kari of Berdla, a man of renown for strength and daring; he was a Berserk. Ulf and he had one common purse, and were the dearest friends.
But when they gave up freebooting, Kari went to his estate at Berdla, being a man of great wealth. Three children had Kari, one son named Eyvind Lambi, another Aulvir Hnuf, and a daughter Salbjorg, who was a most beautiful woman of a noble spirit. Her did Ulf take to wife, and then he too went to his estates. Wealthy he was both in lands and chattels; he took baron's rank as his forefathers had done, and became a great man. It was told of Ulf that he was a great householder; it was his wont to rise up early, and then go round among his labourers or where his smiths were, and to overlook his stalk and fields, and at times he would talk with such as needed his counsel, and good counsel he could give in all things, for he was very wise. But everyday as evening drew on he became sullen, so that few could come to speak with him. He was an evening sleeper, and it was commonly said that he was very shape strong. He was called Kveldulf.
​Kveldulf and his wife had two sons, the elder was named Thorolf, the younger Grim; these, when they grew up, were both tall men and strong, as was their father. But Thorolf was most comely as well as doughty, favouring his mother's kin; very cheery was he, liberal, impetuous in everything, a good trader, winning the hearts of all men. Grim was swarthy, ill-favoured, like his father both in face and mind; he became a good man of business; skilful was he in wood and iron, an excellent smith. In the winter he often went to the herring fishing, and with him many house-carles.
But when Thorolf was twenty years old, then he made him ready to go a harrying. Kveldulf gave him a long-ship, and Kari of Berdla's sons, Eyvind and Aulvir, resolved to go on that voyage, taking a large force and another long-ship; and they roved the seas in the summer, and got them wealth, and had a large booty to divide. For several summers they were out roving, but stayed at home in winter with their fathers. Thorolf brought home many costly things, and took them to his father and mother; thus they were well-to-do both for possessions and honour. Kveldulf was now well stricken in years, and his sons were grown men.
# The Story of Egil Skallagrimsson/Chapter 2

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CHAPTER II.
Of Aulvir Hnuf.
Audbjorn was then king over the Firthfolk; there was an earl of his named Hroald, whose son was Thorir. Atli the Slim was then an earl, he dwelt at Gaula; he had sons Hallstein, Holmstein, and Herstein; anda daughter, Solveig the Fair. It happened one autumn that much people were gathered at Gaula for a sacrificial feast, then saw Aulvir Hnuf Solveig and courted her; he afterwards asked her to wife. But the earl thought him an unequal match and would not give her. Whereupon Aulvir composed many love-songs, and thought so much of Solveig that he left freebooting, but Thorolf and Eyvind Lambi kept it on.
# The Story of Egil Skallagrimsson/Chapter 4

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Chapter IV.
Battle of king Harold and Audbjorn.
King Audbjorn went with his forces northwards to Mæra; there he joined king Arnvid and Solvi Bandy-legs, and altogether they had a large host. King Harold also had come from the north with his forces, and the armies met inside Solskel. There was fought a great battle, with much slaughter in either host. Of the Mærian forces fell the kings Arnvid and Audbjorn, but Solvi escaped, and afterwards became a great sea-rover, and wrought much scathe on Harold's kingdom, and was nicknamed Bandy-legs. ​ On Harold's side fell two earls, Asgaut and Asbjorn, and two sons of earl Hacon, Grjotgard and Herlaug, and many other great men. After this Harold subdued South Mæra. Vemund Audbjorn's brother still retained the Firthfolk, being made king. It was now autumn, and king Harold was advised not to go south in autumn-tide. So he set earl Rognvald over North and South Mæra and Raumsdale, and kept a numerous force about himself.
That same autumn the sons of Atli set on Aulvir Hnuf at his home, and would fain have slain him. They had such a force that Aulvir could not withstand them, but fled for his life. Going northwards to Mæra, he there found Harold, and submitted to him, and went north with the king to Throndheim, and he became most friendly with him, and remained with him for a long time thereafter, and was inade his skald.
In the winter following earl Rognvald went the inner way by the Eid-sea southwards to the Firths. Having news by spies of the movements of king Vemund, he came by night to Naust-dale, where Vemund was at a banquet, and, surrounding the house, burnt within it the king and ninety men. After that Kari of Berdla came to earl Rognvald with a long-ship fully manned, and they two went north to Mæra. Rognvald took the ships that had belonged to Vemund and all the chattels he could get. Kari of Berdla then went north to king Harold at Throndheim, and became his man.
Next spring king Harold went southwards along the coast with a fleet, and subdued firths and fells, and arranged for men of his own to rule them. Earl Hroald he set over the Firthfolk. King Harold was very careful, when he had gotten new peoples under his power, about barons and rich landowners, and all those whom he suspected of being at all likely to raise rebellion. Every such man he treated in ✓ one of two ways: he either made him become his liege-man, or go abroad; or (as a third choice) suffer yet harder conditions, some even losing life or limb. Harold claimed as his own through every district all patrimonies, and all land tilled or untilled, likewise all seas and freshwater lakes. All landowners were to be his tenants, as also all that ​worked in the forest, salt-burners, hunters and fishers by land and sea, all these owed him duty. But But many fled abroad from this tyranny, and much waste land was then colonized far and wide, both eastwards in Jamtaland and Helsingjaland, and also the West lands, the Southern isles, Dublin in Ireland, Caithness in Scotland, and Shetland. And in that time Iceland was found.
# The Story of Egil Skallagrimsson/Chapter 5

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CHAPTER V.
The king's message to Kveldulf.
KING HAROLD lay with his fleet in the Firths, whence he sent messengers round the land to such as had not come to him, but with whom he thought he had business. The messengers came to Kveldulf, and were well received. They set forth their errand, said that the king would have Kveldulf come to him.
'He has heard,' said they, 'that you are a man of renown and high family. You will get from him terms of great honour, for the king is very keen on this, to have with him such as he hears are men of mark for strength and bravery.'
Kveldulf answered that he was an old man, not fit for war or to be out in warships. 'I will now,' said he, 'sit at home and leave serving kings.' Upon this the messengers said, 'Then let your son go to the king; he is a tall man and a likely warrior. The king will make you a baron,' said they to Grim, if you will serve him.'
'I will be made baron under none,' said Grim, 'while my father lives; he, while he lives, shall be my liege-lord.'
The messengers went away, and when they came to the king told him all that Kveldulf had said before them. Whereat the king looked sullen, but he spoke little; these men, he said, were proud, or what were they aiming at? Aulvir Hnuf was standing near, and he bade the king not be wroth. 'I will go,' said he, 'to Kveldulf; and he will ​consent to come to you, as soon as he knows that you think it a matter of moment.
So Aulvir went to Kveldulf and told him that the king was wroth, and it would not go well unless one of the two, father or son, came to the king; he said, too, that he would get them great honour from the king if they would but pay homage. Further he told them at length, as was true, that the king was liberal to his men both in money and honours.
Kveldulf said, 'My foreboding is that I and my sons shall get no luck from this king: and I will not go to him. But if Thorolf returns this summer, he will be easily won to this journey, as also to be made the king's man. Say you this to the king, that I will be his friend, and will keep to his friendship all who heed my words; I will also hold the same rule and authority from his hand that I held before from the former king, if he will that it continue so still, and I will see how I and the king agree.'
Then Aulvir went back and told the king that Kveldulf would send him his son, and he (said Aulvir) would suit better; but he was not then at home. The king let the matter rest. In the summer he went inland to Sogn, but in autumn made ready to go northwards to Throndheim.