OpenLLM-France/wikimedia huggingface dataset:
# Highland laddie (2)/Kate Kearney

KATE KEARNEY.
O did you ne'er hear of Kate Kearney? She lives on the banks of Killarney; From the glance of her eye, Shun danger and fly, For fatal's the glance of Kate Kearney. For that eye is so modestly beaming, You'd ne'er think of mischief she's dreaming; Yet oh! I can tell, How fatal the spell That lurks in the eye of Kate Kearney.
O should you e'er meet this Kate Kearney, Who lives on the banks of Killarney,
​Beware of her smile, For many a wile Lies hid in the smile of Kate Kearney. Tho' she looks so bewitchingly simple, There's mischief in every dimple; And who dares inhale Her mouth's spicy gale, Must die by the breath of Kate Kearney.
ANSWER.
Oh yes, I have seen this Kate Kearney, Who lives near the of Killarney; From her love-beaming eye, What mortal can fly, Unsubdued by the glance of Kate Kearney? For that eye, so seducingly beaming, Assures me of mischief she's dreaming, And I feel 'tis in vain To fly from the chain That binds me to lovely Kate Kearley.
At eve when I've met this Kate Kearney, On the flow'r-mantled banks of Killarney, Her smile would impart Thrilling joy to my heart,
​As I gaz'd on the charming Kate Kearney. On the banks of Killarney reclining, My bosom to rapture resigning, I've felt the keen smart Of love's fatal dart, And inhal‘d the warm sigh of Kate
Kearney.
# Loch-Na-Garr/Kate Kearney

KATE KEARNEY.
# Loch-Na-Garr/The Languishing Lover

THE LANGUISHING LOVER.
# Loch-Na-Garr/John of Badenyon

JOHN OF BADENYON.
# John o' Badenyon

"Written to an old Highland strathspey, called John o' Badenyon, by the Rev. John Skinner." —"John o' Badenyon" in The Book of Scottish Song, (ed.) by Alexander Whitelaw (1843)
* "John of Badenyon", in Loch-Na-Garr (n.d.), a chapbook printed in Stirling
* "John of Badenyon" in John of Badenyon, or, A man in search of a friend by John Skinner (1790)
* "John o' Badenyon" in Adventures of John o' Badenyon, in pursuit of happiness by John Skinner (1810–1825)
* "John O'Badenyon" in General Abercrombie's Elegy (1821)
* "John o' Badenyon" in The Book of Scottish Song, (ed.) by Alexander Whitelaw (1843)
# Loch-Na-Garr/Loch-Na-Garr

LOCH-NA-GARR.
# Seven popular songs/When John and me were married

When John and me were married, Our haddin’ was but sma’, For my minnie, caukert carlin, Wad gie us nocht ava. I wairt my fee wi’ cannie care. As far as it would gae, But weel I wat our bridal bed Was clean pease strae.
Wi’ working late and early, We’ve come to what you see ; For fortune thrave aneath our hands, Sae eident aye wero wo. The lowe of love made labour light, I’m sure ye’ll find it sae, When kind ye cuddle down at e’en, ’Mang clean pease strae.
The rose blooms gay on cairny brae, As weel’s in birken shaw, And love will lowe in cottage low, As weel’s in lofty ha’; Sae, lassie, tak the lad ye like, Whate’er your minnie say, Tho’ you should mak’ your bridal bed Of clean pease strae.
# Seven popular songs

Dated from internal and external evidence. There are differences between the order and titles given on the title page and those at the head of each song. Where this is the case, the latter have been used.
Seven
POPULAR SONGS.
THE ROSE OF ALLANDALE.
THE STEAM ARM.
THE BOYS OF KILKENNY.
WHEN JOHN AND ME WERE MARRIED.
A WORD TO THE WISE.
BEGONE, DULL CARE.
KATE KEARNEY.
GLASGOW:
PRINTED FOR THE BOOKSELLERS.
48.
* The Rose of Allandale
* Kate Kearney
* The Steam Arm
* Begone dull care
* The Boys of Kilkenny
* A word to the Wise
* When John and me were married
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
# Seven popular songs/The rose of Allandale

SONGS.
The morn was fair, the skies were clear. No breath came o’er the sea, When Mary left her highland cot, And wander’d forth with me ; Though flowers deck the mountain’s side, And fragrance fill the vale. By far the sweetest flower there, Was the Rose of Allandale.
Where’er I wander’d, east or west, Though fate began to low’r, A solace still was she to me, In sorrow’s lonely hour ; When tempests lash’d our gallant bark, And rent her shiv’ring sail, One maiden form withstood the storm, ’Twas the Rose of Allandale.
And when my fever’d lips were parch’d. On Afric’s burning sand, She whisper’d hopes of happiness, And tales of distant land.
​My life had been a wilderness, Unbless’d by fortune’s gale, Had fate not link’d my lot with hers, The Rose of Allandale.
# Seven popular songs/Kate Kearney

O did you not hear of Kate Kearney? She lives on the banks of Killarney; From the glance of her eye, shun danger and fly, For fatal’s the glance of Kate Kearney. For that eye is so modestly beaming, You’d ne’er think of mischief she’s dreaming, Yet, oh ! I can’t tell how fatal’s the spell That lurks in the eye of Kate Kearney.
Oh, should you e’er meet this Kate Kearney, Who lives on the banks of Killarney, Beware of her smile, for many a wile Lies hid in the bosom of Kate Kearney. Though she looks so bewitchingly simple. There’s mischief in every dimple; And who dare inhale her mouth’s spicy gale, Must die by the breath of Kate Kearney.
# Seven popular songs/The steam arm

O! wonders sure, will never cease, While works of art do so increase; ​No matter whether in war or peace, Men can do whatever they please.
Ri too ral, &c.
A curious tale I will unfold. To all of you as I was told, About a soldier stout and bold, Whose wife, ’tis said, was an arrant scold.
Ri too ral, &c.
At Waterloo he lost an arm, Which gave him pain and great alarm ; But he soon got well, and grew quite calm. For a shilling a-day was a sort of balm.
Ri too ral, &c.
The story goes, on every night, His wife would bang him left and right ; So he determin’d out of spite, To have an arm, cost what it might.
Ri too ral, &c.
He went at once, strange it may seem, To have one made to work by steam, For a ray of hope began to gleam, That force of arms would win her esteem.
Ri too ral, &c.
The limb was finish’d, and fix’d unto His stump of a shoulder neat and true. You’d have thought it there by nature grew, For it stuck to its place as tight as glue.
Ri too ral, &c.
​He started home, and knock’d at the door. His wife her abuse began to make ; He turn’d a small peg, and before He’d time to think, she fell on the floor.
Ri too ral, &c.
With policemen soon his room was fill’d. For every one he nearly kill’d ; For the soldier’s arm had been so drill’d, That once in action, it couldn’t be still’d,
Ri too ral, &c.
They took him at length before the mayor, His arm kept moving all the while there ; The mayor cried, “ shake your fist if you dare,” When the steam arm knock’d him out of his chair
Ri too ral, &c.
This raised in court a bit of clamour. The arm going like on auctioneer’s hammer ; It fell in weight like a paviour’s rammer, And many with fear began to stammer,
Ri too ral, &c.
He was lock’d in a cell from doing harm, To satisfy those who had still a qualm, When all at once they heard an’ alarm, Down fell the walls, and out popp’d the arm.
Ri too ral, &c.
He soon escap’d and reach’d his door, And knock’d by steam raps half a score ; ​But as the arm in power grew more and more, Bricks, mortar and wood, soon strew’d the floor.
Ri too ral, &c.
With eagerness he stepp’d each stair, Popp’d into the room—his wife was there ; O, come to my arms, he said my dear, When his steamer smash’d the crockery ware.
Ri too ral, &c.
He left his house, at length outright, And wanders now just like a sprite ; For he can’t get sleep either day or night, For his arms keep moving with two horse might,
Ri too ral, &c.
# Seven popular songs/Begone dull care

Begone, dull care! I pray thee begone from me Begone, dull care! thou and I can never agree, Long time hast thou been tarrying here, And fain thou wouldst me kill; But, in sooth ! dull care, Thou never shalt have thy will.
Too much care will make a young man grey ; And too much care will turn an old mail to clay. My wife shall dance, and I shall sing, So merrily pass the day ; For I hold it one of the wisest things, To drive dull care away.
# Seven popular songs/The boys of Kilkenny

Oh! the boys of Kilkenny are brave roaring blades, And if ever they meet with the nice little maids, They’ll kiss them, and coax them, and spend their money free. Of all the towns in Ireland, Kilkenny for me.
And of all towns, &c.
In the town of Kilkenny there runs a clear stream. In the town of Kilkenny there lives a fair dame, Her lips are like roses, and her mouth much the same. Like a dish of fresh strawberries smother’d in cream
Fal de ral, &c.
Her eyes are as black as Kilkenny’s large coal. Which in my poor bosom have burnt a large hole ; Her mind, like its river, is mild, clear, and pure, But her heart is more hard than its marble, I’m sure.
Fal de ral, &c.
Kilkenny’s a pretty town, and shines where it stands, The more I think on it, the more my heart warms, For if I was at Kilkenny, I’d think myself at home. For it’s there I get sweethearts, but here I get none.
Fal de ral, &c.
# Seven popular songs/A word to the wise

I love you by Heaven, what can I say more ? Then set not my passion a-cooling ; If you yield not at once, I must e’en give thee o’er. For I am but a novice at fooling.
​What my love wants in words, I will make up in deed Then why should we waste time in stuff, child ? A performance, you know well, a promise exceeds, And a word to the wise is enough, child.
# The Rose of Allandale

* "The Rose of Allandale" in The Sentimental Songster (1840s)
* "The Rose of Allandale" in Seraphim (1840s)
* "The Rose of Allandale" in Seven popular songs (1840s)
* "The Rose of Allandale" in The Book of Scottish Song (1843), edited by Alexander Whitelaw
# Highland laddie (2)/The Highland Laddie

THE HIGHLAND LADDIE.
The lawland lads think they are fine, But O! they're vain and idly gaudy; How much unlike the gracefu' mien, And manly looks of my Highland laddie. O my bonnie Highland laddie, My handsome charming Highland laddie; May heaven still guard, and love reward The lawland lass and her highland laddie
If I were free at will to choose, To be the wealthiest Lawland lady, I'd tak young Donald without trews, With bonnet blue and belted plaidie. O my bonny, &c.
The brawest beau in burrows town, In a' his airs, wi' art made ready, Compar'd to him, he's but a clown, He's finer far in's tartan plaidie. O my bonny, &c.
O'er benty hill wi‘ him I'll run, And leave my lawland kin and daddie,
​Frae winter's cauld and simmer's sun, He'll screen me wi‘ his highland plaidie O my bonny, &c.
A painted room, and silken bed, May please a Lawland laird and lady; But I can kiss, and be as glad, Behind a bush, in's Highland plaidie. O my bonny, &c.
Few compliments between us pass; I ca' him my dear Highland laddie, And he ca's me his Lawland lass, Syne rows me in beneath his plaidie. O my bonny, &c.
Nae greater joy I'll e'er pretend, Than that his love prove true & steady, Like mine to him, which ne'er shall end, While heaven preserves my Highland laddie. O my bonny, &c.
# Braes of Birniebouzle (1820, Edinburgh)

BRAES OF BIRNIEBOUZLE.
To which are added.
THE BIRKS OF INVERMAY.
Merry may the Maid be.
Nan of Logie Green.
THE LANGUISHING MAID.
EDINBURGH PRINTED FOR BOOK SELLERS.
1820.
* Braes of Birniebouzle
* The Birks of Invermay
* Merry May the Maid Be
* Nan of Logie Green
* The Languishing Lover
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 Languishing Lover

* "The Languishing Lover", in Loch-Na-Garr (n.d.), a chapbook printed in Stirling
* "The Languishing Lover", in Braes of Birniebouzle (1820), a chapbook printed in Edinburgh
# Merry May the Maid Be

"Written, with the exception of the first stanza, which belongs to an older song, by Sir John Clerk of Pennycuick, Bart. […] The song first appeared in 'The Charmer,' Edinburgh, 1751, Vol. II., but without the last verse, which was afterwards added by the author." —"The Miller" in The Book of Scottish Song (1843)
* "Merry May the Maid Be", in Braes of Birniebouzle (1820), a chapbook printed in Edinburgh
* "Merry May the Maid Be" in Roy's Wife of Aldivalloch (1800)
* "The Miller" in The Book of Scottish Song (1843)
# The Birks of Invermay (Mallet & Bryce)

"The first two stanzas of this song are by David Mallet (born 1714; died 1765;) the other stanzas are generally ascribed to the Rev. Alex. Bryce, minister of Kirknewton (born 1713; died 1786.) Mallet's verses appeared in the Orpheus Caledonius, where they are directed to be sung "to a Scotch tune, The Birks of Endermay." They are also given, with the three additional stanzas, in the 4th vol. of the Tea Table Miscellany."—Alexander Whitelaw, The Book of Scottish Song (1843).
* "The Birks of Invermay" in The Birks of Invermay, Scottish chapbook (1815)
* "Birks of Invermay" in Four excellent old songs, Scottish chapbook (1816)
* "The Birks of Invermay" in Crazy Jane, Scottish chapbook (1820)
* "The Birks of Invermay", in Braes of Birniebouzle (1820), a chapbook printed in Edinburgh
* "The Birks of Invermay" in Lewie Gordon, Scottish chapbook (1821)
* "The Birks of Invermay" in The Book of Scottish Song (ed.) by Alexander Whitelaw (1843)
# The Book of Scottish Song/Birniebouzle

Birniebouzle.
[About twenty years ago, this was a popular street song. It was written by the Ettrick Shepherd to the tune of "Braes of Tullimet."]
Will ye gang wi' me, lassie, To the braes o' Birniebouzle? Baith the yird an' sea, lassie, Will I rob to fend ye. I'll hunt the otter an' the brock, The hart, the hare, an' heather cock, An' pu' the limpet aff the rock, To batten an' to mend ye.
If ye'll gang wi' me lassie, To the braes o' Birniebouzle, Till the day you dee, lassie, Want shall ne'er come near ye. The peats I'll carry in a scull, The cod an' ling wi' hooks I'll pull, An' reave the eggs o' mony a gull, To please my dainty dearie.
Sae canty will we be, lassie, At the braes o' Birniebouzle, Donald Gun and me, lassie, Ever sail attend ye. Though we ha'e nowther milk nor meal, Nor lamb nor mutton, beef nor veal, We'll fank the porpy and the seal, And that's the way to fend ye.
An' ye sall gang sae braw, lassie, At the kirk o' Birniebouzle, Wi' littit brogues an' a', lassie, Wow but ye'll be vaunty! ​An' you sall wear, when you are wed, The kirtle an' the Heeland plaid, An' sleep upon a heather bed, Sae cozy an' sae canty.
If ye'll but marry me, lassie, At the kirk o' Birniebouzle, A' my joy shall be, lassie, Ever to content ye. I'll bait the line and bear the pail, An' row the boat and spread the sail, An' drag the larry at my tail, When mussel hives are plenty.
Then come awa' wi' me, lassie, To the braes o' Birniebouzle; Bonny lassie, dear lassie, You shall ne'er repent ye. For you shall own a bught o' ewes, A brace o' gaits, and byre o' cows, An' be the lady o' my house, An' lads an' lasses plenty.
# Braes o' Birniebouzle (1823, Edinburgh)/Braes o' Birniebouzle

BRAES O' BIRNIEBOUZLE.
Air-'Braes o' Tullymet.'
# Three excellent and at present very fashionable songs/Birniebouzle

Tune—Braes of Tullymet.
Will ye gang wi' me, lassie, To the braes o' Birniebouzle? Baith the earth an’ sea lassie, Will I rob to send ye: I'll hunt the otter an’ the brock. The hart, the hare, an’ heather-cock; An' pu’ the limpat off the rock, To fatten an’ to send ye.
If ye'll gae wi’ me lassie, to the braes o’ Birnibouzle, Till the day ye dee lassie, ye sall aye hae plenty: The peats I'll carry in a skall; The cod an' ling w' lines I'll pull; An' reave the eggs o' many a gull, To make ye dishes dainty.
​Sae cheery will ye be lassie, I’ the braes o' Birniebouzle; Donald Gun and me lassie, ever will attend ye. Though we hae nouther milk nor meal, Nor lamb nor mutton, beaf nor veal, We'll sank the porpy an' the seal, And that's the way to send ye.
An' ye sal gang sae braw lassie, at the kirk o' Birniebouzle; Wi littit brogs and a, lassie, wow but ye'll be vaunty: An' ye sal wear, when you are wed, The kirtle and the highland plaid, An' sleep upon a feather bed, Sae cozy and sae canty.
If ye will marry me laddie, at the kirk o' Birniebouzle, My chiefest aim shall be laddie ever to content ye: I'll bait the line and bear the pail, An' row the boat and spread the sail, An' dadd the clotters wi' a flail, To make our tatoes plenty.
​Then come awa wi' me lassie, to the braes o' Birniebouzle; An' since ye are sae free lassie ye sall ne'er repent ye: For ye sal hae baith tups and ewes, An' gaits and swine, and stots and cows, An' be the lady o' my house, An' that may well content ye.
# Three excellent and at present very fashionable songs/Bauldy Fraser

Tune—Whigs of Fife.
My name is Bauldy Fraser, man; I‘m puir an' auld, an' pale an' wan, I brak my shin, an' tint a han' Upon Culloden lee man. Our highlan' clans war bauld an stout, An thought to turn their faes about, But gat that day a desperate rout, An owre the hills did flee man.
Sic hurly-burly ne'er was seen, Wi' cuffs and buffs, an blindet een While, highland swords o' metal keen, War gleamin' grand to see man. ​The cannons rowtit in our face, An brak our banes an rive our claes; ‘Twas then we saw our ticklesh case Atween the deil an sea man.
Sure Charlie an the brave Lochyell Had been that time beside theirsell, To plant us in the open fiel’ In the artillary’s a‘e man: For had we met wi Cumberland By Athol-braes or yonder strand, The bluid o' a the savage band Had dyed the German sea man.
But down we droppit dad for dad: I thought it sure hae put me mad, To see sae many a highland lad Lie blutherins on the brae man. I thought we ance had won the fray; We finasht ae wing till it gae way; But the other side had lost the day, An skelpit fast awa man.
When Charley wi‘ Macpherson met, Like Hay, he thought him back to get; We‘ll turn, quo he, an try them yet; We‘ll conquor or we‘ll dee man. ​But Donald jumpit owre the burn, An a ware an aith she wadna turn, Or sure she wad hae cause to mourn; Then fast away did flee man.
O had you seen that dunt o' death! we ran until we tint our breath, Aye looking back for fear of skaith Wi‘ hopeless shining e‘e man. But Britian ever may deplore That day upon Drumossie moor whar thousands taen war drench'd in gore, Or hang’d outowr a tree man,
O, Cumberland, what mean'd ye then To ravage ilka Highland glen? Our crime was truth an love to ane; we had nae spite at thee man. An you or yours may yet be glad To trust the honest Highland lad; The bonnet blue an belted plaid Will stand the last o' three man.
# Three excellent and at present very fashionable songs/Doctor Monro

Tune— Humours o' Glen.
Dear Doctor, he cleaver, and fling of your beaver; come bleed me, and blister me, do not be slow: I'm sick, I'm exhausted, my schemes they are blasted and all driven heel-o'er-head, Doctor Monro. Be patient dear fellow, you foster your fever; Pray what's the misfortune that betters you so? O. Doctor! I'm ruin’d, I’m ruin’d for ever! my lass forsaken me, Doctor Monro.
I meant to have married, and tasted the pleasures, the sweets, the enjoyments, in wedlock that flow But she's taen another, and broken my measures, and fairly confounded me, Doctor Monro. I'll bleed and I'll blister you over and over; I'll master your malady ere that I go: But raise up your head from below the bed cover, and give some attention to Doctor Monro.
If Christy had wed you, she would have misled you and laugh’d at your love with some handsome young beau. Her conduct will prove it; but how would you love it I soon would have lam'd her, dear Doctor Monro. Each year brings a pretty young son, or a daughter; perhaps you're the father; but how shall ye know You hug them—her gallant is bursting with laughter that thought's like to murder me, Doctor Monro.
​The boys cost you many a penny and shilling; you breed them with pleasure, with trouble, & wee But one turns a rake, and another a villain.— my heart could not bear it, dear Doctor Monro. The lasses are comely, and dear to my bosom; but virtue and beauty has many a foe! O think what may happen; just nipt in their blossom Ah! merciful heaven! cease, Doctor Monro.
Dear Doctor, I’ll thank you to hand me my breeches I’m better; I'll drink with you ere that you go; I’ll never more sicken for women or riches, but love my relations and Doctor Monro. I plainly perceive, were I wedded to Christy, my peace and my pleasures I needs must forego. He still lives a bachelor; drinks when he’s thristy; and sings like a lark, and loves Doctor Monro.
# Braes of Birniebouzle (1820, Edinburgh)/Braes of Birniebouzle

BRAES OF BIRNIEBOUZLE.
# Braes of Birniebouzle (1820, Edinburgh)/The Birks of Invermay

THE BIRKS OF INVERMAY.
# Braes of Birniebouzle (1820, Edinburgh)/Merry May the Maid Be

MERRY MAY THE MAID BE
# Braes of Birniebouzle (1820, Edinburgh)/Nan of Logie Green

NAN OF LOGIE GREEN.
# Braes of Birniebouzle (1820, Edinburgh)/The Languishing Lover

THE LANGUISHING LOVER.
FINIS.
# Braes o' Birniebouzle (1823, Edinburgh)/The Contented Lover

THE CONTENTED LOVER.
# The Contented Lover

* "The Contented Lover", in Hallow fair (n.d.), a chapbook printed in Edinburgh
* "I loo'd ne'er a laddie but ane", in Come under my Plaidie (n.d.), a chapbook printed in Edinburgh
* "I lo'd ne'er a Laddie but ane", in The Black-bird (1818), a chapbook printed in Falkirk
* "I loo'd ne'er a laddie but ane", in Come under my plaidie (1819), a chapbook printed in Edinburgh
* "The Contented Lover", in Braes o' Birniebouzle (1823), a chapbook printed in Edinburgh
* "The contented lover", in The Hallow fair (1826), a chapbook printed in Stirling
* "The Contented Lover", in Hallow fair (1826), a chapbook printed in Stirling (duplicate of the above)
* "I lo'ed ne'er a laddie but ane", in The Book of Scottish Song (1843), edited by Alexander Whitelaw
# A True and Faithful Relation of What Passed for Many Years Between Dr John Dee and Some Spirits

A True & Faithful RELATION OF What passed for many Yeers Between D$^r$. JOHN DEE (A Mathematician of Great Fame in Q. Eliz. and King James their Reignes) and Some Spirits: Tending (had it Succeeded) To a General Alteration of most STATES and KINGDOMES in the World.
His Private Conferences with Rodolphe Emperor of Germany, Stephen K. of Poland, and divers other Princes about it. The Particulars of his Cause as it was agitated in the Emperors Court; By the Popes Intervention: His Banishment, and Restoration in part.
As Also The Letters or Sundry Great Men and Princes (some whereof were present at some of these Conferences and Apparitions of Spirits:) to the said D.Dee.
Out Of The Original Copy, written with D$^r$. Dees own Hand: Kept in the library of Sir THO. COTTON, K$^t$. Baronet
WITH A PREFACE Confirming the Reality (as to the Point of Spirits) of This RELATION: and shewing the several good Uses that a Sober Christian may make of All.
BY Meric. Casaubon, D.D.
London, Printed by D. Maxwell, for T. Garthwait, and sold at the Little North door of S. Pauls, and by other Stationers. 1659.
* Preface
* Part I
* Part II
* Part III