OpenLLM-France/wikimedia huggingface dataset:
# Musical garland/Wandering Willie

Wandering Willie.
Here awa, there awa, wandering Willie; Here awa, there awa, haud awa hame; Come to my bosom, my ain only dearie, Tell me thou bring’st me, my Willie, the same.
Winter winds blew loud and eauld at our parting, Fears for my Willie brought tears frae my e’e; Welcome now simmer, and weleome my Willie, The simmer to nature, my Willie to me.
Rest, ye wild storms, in the cave o’ your slumbers. How your dread howling a lover alarms; Wauken, ye breezes, blow gently, ye billows, And waft my dear laddie ance mair to my arms.
But oh, if he’s faithless, and minds na his Nanny, Flow still between us, thou wide roaring main; May I never see it, may I never trow it, But, dying, believe that my Willie’s my ain.
# Wandering Willie

* "Wandering Willie", in Burns' Popular Songs (n.d.), a chapbook printed in Paisley
* "Wandering Willie", in Musical garland (n.d.), a chapbook printed in Falkirk
* "Wandering Willie", in Six songs (n.d.), a chapbook printed in Kilmarnock
* "Wandering Willie", in The Canary (1810), a chapbook printed in Paisley
* "Wandering Willie", in The Lass o' Ballochmyle (1823), a chapbook printed in Glasgow
* "Here awa, there awa", in Bonny Barbara Allan (n.d.), a chapbook printed in Edinburgh
* "Wandering Willie", in The Book of Scottish Song (1843), edited by Alexander Whitelaw
* "Wandering Willie", in The Poetical Works of Robert Burns (1887), edited by Alexander Smith
# The Book of Scottish Song/Here awa', there awa'

Here awa’, there awa’.
[The beautiful air of "Here awa", there awa" is preserved in Oswald's collection of Scots tunes, 1735-43. Herd, in his collection of 1769, first printed the following fragment of the old words.]
Here awa', there awa', here awa', Willie! Here awa', there awa', haud awa' hame! Lang have I sought thee, dear have I bought thee, Now I have gotten my Willie again. ​Through the lane muir I have followed my Willie; Through the lang muir I have followed him hame. Whatever betide us, nought shall divide us; Love now rewards all my sorrow and pain.
Here awa', there awa', here awa', Willie! Here awa', there awa', haud awa', hame! Come, love, believe me, nothing can grieve me, Ilka thing pleases, when Willie's at hame.
# Musical garland/The woodpecker

The Woodpecker.
I knew by the smoke to so gracefully curl’d, Over yonder green elms that a cottage was near: And I said, if there's peace to be found in the world, The heart that is humble might hope for it here. Every leaf was at rest, and I heard not a sound. But the Woodpecker taping the hollow beach tree.
​And here, in this lone little wood, I exclaim'd, With a maid that's delightful to soul and to eye; Who would blush'd when I prais'd her, would weep if I blam'd, How contented I’d live, and how calm could I die. Every leaf was at rest, &c.
By the shade of yon sumach, whose red berries dip, In the gush of the fountain how sweet to recline, And to know that I sigh'd upon innocent lips, Which never were sigh'd on by any but mine.
# The Woodpecker

* "The woodpecker", in Musical garland (n.d.), a chapbook printed in Falkirk
* "The woodpecker", in Select collection No. XXVIII (n.d.), a chapbook printed in Edinburgh
* "The woodpecker", in Bonaparte's farewell (n.d.), a chapbook printed in Glasgow
* "The Woodpecker", in Far, Far at Sea (n.d.), a chapbook printed in Stirling
* "The Woodpecker", in Battle of Sheriff Muir (1823), a chapbook printed in Edinburgh
* "The woodpecker", in The Woodpecker (1825), a chapbook printed in Stirling
* "The Woodpecker", in The Braes of Yarrow (1820), a chapbook printed in Edinburgh
# Musical garland/My Anna's worth my Anna's charms

My Anna's worth my Anna's charms.
Encompass‘d in an angel’s frame, An angel's virtues lay; Too soon did heav'n assert the claim, And call its own away.
My Anna's worth, my Anna's charms, Must never more return! What now shall fill these widow arms? Ah! me, my Anna's urn!
Can I forget that bliss resign'd, Which blest with her I knew! Our hearts in sacred bonds entwin'd, Were bound in love so true.
​The rural train, which once were us'd In festive dance to turn, So pleased when Anna they amus‘d, Now weeping deck her urn.
The soul escaping from its chain, She clasp'd me to her breast; “To part with thee is all my pain“! She cried then sunk to rest.
While mem‘ry shall her seat retain, From beautious Anna torn, My heart shall breathe its ceaseless strain Of sorrow, o'er her urn.
There with the earliest dawn, a dove Laments her murder'd mate; There Philomela, lost to love, Tells the pale moon her fate.
With yew and ivy round me spread, My Anna there I‘ll mourn; For all my soul now she is dead, Concentres in her urn.
# Nine popular songs/My Anna's Urn

MY ANNA’S URN.
Encompass’d in an angel’s frame, An angel’s virtues lay, Too soon did heav’n assert the claim, And call’d its own away.
My Anna’s worth, my Anna’s charms Must never more return; What now shall fill these widow'd arm? Ah me! my Anna’s urn.
# Paddy MacShane/Anna's Urn

ANNA'S URN.
ENCOMPASS'D in an angel's frame, An angel's virtues lay: Too soon did heav'n assert its claim, And call'd its own away. My Anna's worth, my Anna's charms, Can never more return! What then shall fill these widow'd arms? Ah me! my Anna's urn.
Can I forget that bliss refin’d, Which, bless‘d with her, I knew? Our hearts in sacred bonds entwin‘d, Were bound by love too true. That rural train, which once were us‘d, In festive dance to turn, So pleas‘d, when Anna they amus‘d, Now weeping deck her urn.
The soul escaping from its chain, She clasp‘d me to her breast, “To part with thee is all my pain! She cried, then sunk to rest! While mem‘ry shall her seat retain, From beateous Anna torn, My heart shall breathe its ceaseless strain, Of sorrow o‘er her urn.
There, with the earliest dawn, a dove, Laments her murder‘d mate:
​There Philomela, lost to love, Tells the pale moon her fate. With yew and ivy round me spread, My Anna there I'll mourn; For all my soul, now she is dead, Concentres in her urn.
# The Girl I Left Behind Me/Anna's Urn

ANNA’S URN.
# The Girl I Left Behind Me

The Girl I left behind me.
with the
Answer.
To which are added,
Anna's Urn.
Vauxhall Watch.
Low Down in the Broom.
Seize Occasion
Entered according to Order.
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
# The Girl I Left Behind Me/The Girl I Left Behind Me

THE GIRL I LEFT BEHIND ME
# The Girl I Left Behind Me/The Answer

THE ANSWER.
# The Girl I Left Behind Me/The Vauxhall Watch

THE VAUXHALL WATCH.
# The Girl I Left Behind Me/Low Down in the Broom

LOW DOWN IN THE BROOM.
# The Girl I Left Behind Me/Seize Occasion

SEIZE OCCASION.
FINIS.
# Paddy MacShane

PADDY MACSHANE,
She's Fair and Fause,
ANNA'S URN,
Gloomy Winter's now awa',
The Irish Smugglers,
and
MEG O' THE MILL.
No. 30.
PRINTED FOR, AND SOLD WHOLESALE BY,
J. FRASER, PRINTER, STIRLING.
* Paddy MacShane
* Anna's Urn
* She's Fair and Fause
* Gloomy Winter's Now Awa
* The Irish Smugglers
* Meg O'The Mill
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
# Paddy MacShane/Paddy MacShane

PADDY MACSHANE.
Tune—‘ Sprig of shillelah.'
If my own botheration don't alter my plan, I'll sing seven lines of a tight Irishman, Wrote by cld Biily Shakespeare of Ballyporeen, He said while a babe I lov'd whisky and pap, That I mewled and puk'd in my grandmother's lap; She joulted me hard just to hush my sweet roar, When I slipp’d through her fingers down whack on the floor, What a squalling I made sure at Ballyporeen.
When I grew up a boy, with a nice shining face, With a bag at my back, and a snail-crawling pace, Went to school at old Thwackum's at Ballyporeen. His wig was so fusty, his birch was my dread, He learning beat out ’stead of into my head. Master Macshane, says he, you're a great dirty dolt, You've got no more brains than a Monaghan colt; You're not fit for our college at Ballyporeen.
​When eighteen years of age, was teas'd and perplext To know what I should be, so a lover turned next, And courted sweet Sheelah of Ballyporeen. I thought I'd just take her to comfort my life, Not knowing that she was already a wife, She ask'd me just once that to see her I'd come, When I found her ten children and husband at home, A great big whacking chairman of Ballyporeen.
I next turned a soldier, I did not like that, So turn'd servant, and liv'd with great Justice Pat, A big dealer in p'ratoes at Ballyporeen. With turtle and venison he lin'd his inside, Eat so many fat capons; that one day he died So great was my grief, that to keep spirits up Of some nice whisky cordial I took a big sup, To my master's safe journey from Ballyporeen.
Kick'd and toss'd so about like a weathecock vane, I pack'd up my awls, and I went back again, To my grandfather's cottage at Ballyporeen. I found him poor soul! with no legs for his hose, Could not see through the spectacles put on his nose; With no teeth in his head, so death cock'd up his chin; He slipp'd out of his slippers and faith I slipp'd in And succeeded poor Dennis of Ballyporeen.
# She's Fair and Fause

* "She’s Fair and Fause", in Tullochgorum (n.d.), a chapbook printed in Glasgow
* "She's Fair and Fause", in Sae will we yet (n.d.), a chapbook printed in Stirling
* "She's Fair and Fause", in Paddy MacShane (n.d.), a chapbook printed in Stirling
* "She's fair and fause", in The Book of Scottish Song (1843), edited by Alexander Whitelaw
* "She's fair and fause", in The Poetical Works of Robert Burns (1887), edited by Alexander Smith
# Paddy MacShane/She's Fair and Fause

SHE'S FAIR AND FAUSE.
SHE'S fair and fause that causes my smart, I loo'd her meikle and lang; She's broken her vow, she's broken my heart, And I may e'en gae hang. A coof cam in wi' rowth o' gear, And I hae tint my dearest dear; But woman is but warld's gear, Sae let the bonnie-lass gang.
Whae'er ye be that woman love To this te never blind, Nae ferlie 'tis tho' fickle she prove, A woman has't by kind: O woman lovely, woman fair! An angel form's faun to thy share, Twad been o'er meikle to gien thee mair, I mean an angel mind.
# The Book of Scottish Song/She's fair and fause

She’s fair and fause.
[Burns contributed this song, which has much the character of an epigram, to Johnson's Museum. He also supplied the air, which he picked up from some country musician.]
She's fair and fause that causes my smart, I lo'ed her meikle and lang; She's broken her vow, she's brokert my heart, And I may e'en gae hang. A coof cam' in wi' routh o' gear, And I ha'e tint my dearest dear; But woman is but warld's gear, Sae let the bonnie lass gang.
Whae'er ye be that woman love, To this be never blind, Nae ferlie 'tis tho' fickle she prove, A woman has't by kind. O woman, lovely woman fair! An angel form's fa'n to thy share, 'Twad been o'er meikle to gien thee mair— I mean an angel mind.
# Paddy MacShane/Gloomy Winter's Now Awa

GLOOMY WINTER'S NOW AWA.
Gloomy Winter's now awa, Saft the westlin breezes blaw:
​Mang the birks o’ Stanly shaw The mavis sings fu’ cheerie, O, Sweet the craw-flow’rs early bell Decks Gleniffer’s dewy dell, Blooming like thy bonny sel’, My young my artless dearie, O. Come, my lassie, let us stray, O’er Glenkilloch’s sunnie brae, Biythely spend the gowden day, Midst joys that never wearie, O.
Tow’ring o’er the Newtown woods, Lavrocks fan the snaw-white clouds; Siller saughs, wi’ downie buds, Adorn the bank sae brierie, O. Round the sylvan fairy nooks, Feath’ry breckans fringe the rocks, ’Neath the brae the burnie jouks, And ilka thing is eheerie, O. Trees may bud, and birds may sing, Flowers may bloom, and verdure spring, Joy to me they canna bring, Unless wi’ thee, my dearie, O.
# Paddy MacShane/The Irish Smugglers

THE IRISH SMUGGLERS.
From Brighton two Paddies walk’d under the cliff For pebbles and shells to explore, When, low! a small barrel was dropp’d from the skiff, Which floated, at length, to the shore
​Says Dermot to Pat we the owner will bilk- To-night we'll be merry and frisky; I know it as well as my own mother's milk, Dear joy, 'tis a barrel of whisky.
Says Pat, I'll soon broach it, O fortunate lot! (Now Pat you must know, was no joker,) I'll go to Tom Murphy, who lives in the cot, And borrow his kitchen hot pocker. ’Twas said, and 'twas done-the barrel was bor'd (No Bacchanals ever felt prouder,) When Paddy found out a small error on board, The whisky, alas! was gunpowder.
With sudden explosion, he flew o'er the ocean, And high in air, sported a leg; Yet instinct prevails when philosophy fails, So he kept a tight hold of the keg. But Dermet bawl'd out, with a terrible shout, I'm not to be chous'd, Mr. Wiseman, If you do not come down I'll run into the town And, by St. Patrick, I'll tell the exciseman.
# On Shakespeare

* Search for titles containing or beginning with: "On Shakespeare"
* 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.
Page is titled based on the currently used spelling of 'Shakespeare', but includes variants such as 'Shakespear', 'Shakspear', etc.
* On Shakespeare, by Ben Jonson
* "On Shakespear", a poem by John Milton
# The Sayings of Confucius; a New Translation of the Greater Part of the Confucian Analects

Part of the Wisdom of the East series.
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THE SAYINGS OF CONFUCIUS
WISDOM OF THE EAST
THE SAYINGS OF CONFUCIUS
A NEW TRANSLATION OF THE GREATER PART OF THE CONFUCIAN ANALECTS
WITH INTRODUCTION AND NOTES
by
LIONEL GILES, M.A. (Oxon.)
ASSISTANT IN THE DECARTMENT OF ORIENTAL BOOKS AND MANUSCRIPTS OF THE BRITISH MUSEUM
NEW YORK E. P. DUTTON AND COMPANY 1910
CONTENTS
THE object of the Editors of this series is a very definite one. They desire above all things that, in their humble way, these books shall be the ambassadors of goodwill and understanding between East and West--the old world of Thought and the new of Action. In this endeavour, and in their own sphere, they are but followers of the highest example in the land. They are confident that a deeper knowledge of the great ideals and lofty philosophy of Oriental thought may help to a revival of that true spirit of Charity which neither despises nor fears the nations of another creed and colour. Finally, in thanking press and public for the very cordial reception given to the "Wisdom of the East" Series, they wish to state that no pains have been spared to secure the best specialists for the treatment of the various subjects at hand.
L. CRANMER-BYNG. S. A. KAPADIA.
Northbrook Society, 185, Piccadilly, W.
# The Chinese Classics/Volume 1/Confucian Analects

* related portals: Confucianism
* sister projects: Wikipedia article, quotes, textbook, Wikidata item
A section of Vol. I of Legge's Chinese Classics (1861), reprinted in 1893. (external scans (multiple parts): 1, 2)
論語
Confucian Analects
| 學而第一 - Book I. Hsio R. 為政第二 - Book II. Wei Chang. 八佾第三 - Book III. Pa Yih. 里仁第四 - Book IV. Le Jin. 公冶長第五 - Book V. Kung-ye Ch'ang. 雍也第六 - Book VI. Yung Yey. 述而第七 - Book VII. Shu R. 泰伯第八 - Book VIII. T'ai-po. 子罕第九 - Book IX. Tsze Han. 鄉黨第十 Book X. Heang Tang. | 先進第十一 - Book XI. Hsien Tsin. 顏淵第十二 - Book XII. Yen Yuan. 子路第十三 - Book XIII. Tsze-lu. 憲問第十四 - Book XIV. Hsien Wan. 衛靈公第十五 - Book XV. Wei Ling Kung. 季氏第十六 - Book XVI. Ke She. 陽貨第十七 - Book XVII. Yang Ho. 微子第十八 - Book XVIII. Wei Tsze. 子張第十九 - Book XIX. Tsze-chang. 堯曰第二十 - Book XX. Yao Yueh. |
This work is a translation and has a separate copyright status to the applicable copyright protections of the original content.
# Four Little Foxes

* related portals: American literature, Poetry
* sister projects: Wikidata item
* "Four Little Foxes", in Slow Smoke (1925)
* "Four Little Foxes", in Redcoat (1927) by Clarence Hawkes
# Tropical Cyclone Report for Hurricane Beryl

The National Hurricane Center's Tropical Cyclone Report (TCR) for Hurricane Beryl in 2024. This report was released on January 23, 2025.
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This work is in the public domain in the United States because it is a work of the United States federal government (see 17 U.S.C. 105).
Public domainPublic domainfalsefalse
# Musical garland/Jenny's bawbee

Jenny's Bawbee.
And a‘ that e‘er my Jenny had, My Jenny had, my Jenny had, A‘ that e‘er my Jenny had, Was ae bawbee.
There's your plack, and my plack, And my plack, and your plack, ​And your plack, and my plack, And Jenny‘s bawbee. And a that, &c.
We‘ll put it in the pint stoup, The pint stoup, the pint stoup, We‘ll put it in the pint stoup, And birle‘t a‘ three. And a‘ that e'er my Jenny had, My Jenny had, &c.
# Jenny's Bawbee

* "Jenny's Bawbee", in Jenny's bawbee. To which are added, The Caledonian Laddie. The Tippling Old Cobbler. (n.d.), a chapbook printed in Haddington
* "Jenny's bawbee", in Musical garland (n.d.), a chapbook printed in Falkirk
* "Jenny's Bawbee", in Bonny lass of Calder Braes (1820), a chapbook printed in Falkirk
* "Jenny's bawbee", in Excellent new song, called, Wonderful admiration! (n.d.), a chapbook printed in Haddington
* "Jenny's Bawbee", in The Book of Scottish Song (1843), edited by Alexander Whitelaw
# Jenny's bawbee. To which are added, The Caledonian Laddie. The Tippling Old Cobbler./Jenny's Bawbee

I MET four chaps yon birks amang, Wi' hanging lugs and faces lang, I speer'd at nei'bour Bauldy Strang What are they these we see? Quoth he, "Ilk cream fac'd pauky cheil, "Thinks himself cunning as the deil, 'And here they come awa' to steal Jenny's Bawbee."
The first, a Captain to this trade, Wi' ill-lined scull, and back weel clad, March'd round the barn and by the shed, And papped on his knee; Quoth he, "my goddess, nympha, and queen, "Your beauty's dazzl'd baith my een;" But deil a beauty he had seen, But Jenny's Bawbee.
A Norlan' Laird neist trotted up, Wi bassen'd nag and siller whip, ​Cry'd, ' here's my beast, lad had the grup, "Or tiw him to a tree: 'What’s goud to me, I’ve wealthh o’ lan’ ‘ Bestow on ane o' worth your han’ He thought to pay what he was awn, Wi Jenny’s Bawbee.
A Lawyer neist wi’ blatherin gab, Wi’ speeches wove like ony web; In ilk anes corn he took a dab, And a’ for a fee; Accounts he owed through a’ the town, And tradesmen’s tongues nae mair could drown; But now he thought to clout his gown, Wi’ Jenny’s Bawbee.
Quite spruce, just frae the washing tubs, A fool came neist, but life has rubs, Foul were the roads, and fu' the dubs, And fair besmear’d was he; He danc’d up squinting thro’ a glass, And grinn’d, ‘ I faith a bonny lass;" He thought to win wi’ front o’ brass. Jenny’s Bawbee.
​She bade the Laird gae kaim his wig, The Soldier not to strut sae big, The Lawyer not to be a prig, The fool he cry’d : “tee-hee. "I ken’d that I could never fail;’ But she prinn’d the dish-clout to his tail, And cool’d him wi’ a water-pail. And kept her Bawbee.
Then Johnny cam’ a lad o' sense, Altho’ he had na mony pence, He took young Jenny to the spence, Wi’ her to crack a wee; Now, Johnny was a clever chiel, And here his suit he press’d sae weel That Jenny's, heart grew fast as jeel And she birl’d her Bawbee.
# Excellent new song, called, Wonderful admiration!/Wonderful Admiration

Wonderful Admiration! &c.
I'LL sing you a song of a modern date, Concerning a damsel who had a good estate; Rich, young, and beautiful, whose name ⟨it⟩ Kate; She was mightily teaz'd with admirers of late. Admiration! admiration! Oh, the wonderful admiration!
The first was a Beau, much resembling an ape. That had broken its chain and made its escape; he came into her presence with many a scrape. Cock sure of the maid from his delicate shape. Affection, &c.
The next was a Scot, who came staggering drunk Just as he had quitted his bottle and punk; But his half rotten carcase so dev'lishly stunk, That his hopes were all blasted, and prospects were sunk. Intoxication, &c.
​The next was a youth with a sorrowful air Who had fallen a victim to love and despair He'd not the least prospect of gaining the fair, So just came to die, and to end all his care. Desperation, &c.
A Bully came next, with a glove in his hat, A string of new oaths he had learnt quite pat; He bragg'd of his courage with impudent chat, But to tell you the truth he'd have started at that. Elevation, &c.
Then in came a Quaker, friend Elijah Prim, Hid under the shade of a thirteen inch brim Whatever he did 'twas the spirit mov'd him, But I'm sure he had none; for he mov'd not a limb. Inspiration, &c.
A Rake who has been of her fortune appris'd In a conjurer’s habit his person disguis'd; Her fortune to tell was the scheme he devis'd, But his beard we pull'd off, and his cunning surpris'd Conjuration, &c.
An Irish dear boy was the next that came in, Though bare were his buttocks, yet rough was his chin. ​A blundering story he strove to begin, But Kate, by such eloquence, he could not win. Botheration, &c.
At length a young captain directed by fame Repair'd to the Damsel, and put in a claim His offers were ta'en, & he carried the Dame; So if they are not happy, themselves are to blame. Consummation, &c.
# Excellent new song, called, Wonderful admiration!/Jenny's bawbee

Jenny's Bawbee,
I met four chaps yon birks amang, Wi' hanging lugs and faces lang, I speer'd at nei'bour Bauldy Strang, What are they these we see? Qouth he "Ilk cream fac'd pauky chiel, "Thinks himsell cunning as the deil, "And here they cam', awa to steal Jenny's Bawbee."
The first, a Captain to his trade, Wi' ill-lin'd scull, and back weel clad, March'd round the barn and by the shed, And papped on his knee; Quoth he, "My goddess, nymph, and queen, "Your beauty's dazzl'd baith my een;" ​But deil a beauty he had seen, But Jenny's Bawbee.
A Norlin' Laird next trotted up, Wi' bassen'd nag and filler whip, Cry'd "Here's my beast, lad had the grup, "Or tie him to a tree; "What's gow'd to me, I've wealth o' lan' "Bestow on ane o' worth your han'; He thought to pay what he was awn, Wi' Jenny's Bawbee.
A Lawyer neist wi' blatherin' gab, Wi' speeches wove like ony web; In ilk anes corn he took a dab, And a' for a fee; Accounts he owed through a' the town, And tradesmen's tongues nae mair cou'd drown; But now he thought to clout his gown, Wi' Jenny's Bawbee.
Quite spruce, just frae the washing tubs. A Fool came neist, but life has rubs, Foul were the roads, and fu' the dubs, And fair besmear'd was he; He danc'd up squinting thro' a glass, And grinn'd, "I, saith a bonny lass;" He thought to win wi' front o' brass. Jenny's Bawbee.
She bade the Laird gie kaim his wig; The Soldier not to strut sae big, ​The Lawyer not to be a prig, The fool he cry'd: "tee, hee, "I kend that I could never fail;" But she prinn'd the dish-clout to his tail, And cool'd him wi' a water-pail. And kept her Bawbee:
Then Johnny cam', a lad o' sense, Altho' he had na mony pence, He took young Jenny to the spence, Wi' her to crack a wee; Now, Johnny was a clever chiel, And here his suit he press'd sae weel, That Jenny's heart grew fast as jeel, And she birl'd her Bawbee.