OpenLLM-France/wikimedia huggingface dataset:
# I had a horse (1820)/Plaid amang the heather

PLAID AMANG THE HEATHER.
⟨The⟩ wind blew hie o'er muir and lea, ⟨And⟩ dark and stormy grew the weather, ⟨The⟩ rain rain'd sair among the heather, ⟨But⟩ my love's plaid amang the heather.
O my bonny highland laddie, My winsome, weelsar'd highland laddie, Wha wad mind the wind and rain, Sae weel row't in his tartan plaidie.
​Close to his breast he held me fast:- Sae coozy, warm, we lay thegither; Nae summer heat was half sae sweet As my love's plaid amang the heather. O my bonny, &c.
Mid wind and rain he tald his tale, My lightsome heart grew like a feather It lap sae quick I coudna speak, But silent sigh'd amang the heather. O my bonny, &c.
The Storm blew past; we kiss'd in haste; I hameward ran and tald my mither, She gloom'd at first but soon confest The bowls row'd right amang the heather. O my donny, &c.
Now Hymen's beam gilds bank and stream, Whare Will and I fresh flowers will gather; Nae storms I fear, I've got my dear, Kind hearted lad amang the heather. O my bonny highland laddie, My winsome, weelfar'd, highland laddie, Should storms appear, my Will's ay near; To row me in his tartan plaidie.
FINIS.
# I had a horse (1820)/The soldier's return

THE SAILOR'S RETURN.
Behold, from many an hostile shore, and all the dangers of the main, Where billows mount, and tempests roar, your faithful Tom return again; Returns, and with him brings a heart, That ne'er from Sally shall depart.
After long toils and troubles past, how sweet to tread our native soil, With conquest to return at last, and deck our sweethearts with the spoil, No one to beauty should pretend But such as dare its rights defend.
# Queen Mary's lamentation (1823)/The sailor's return

THE SAILOR'S RETURN.
BEHOLD from many a hostile shore, And all the dangers of the main, Where billows mount, aud tempests roar, Your faithful Tom retnrns again; Returns, and with him brings a heart That ne'er from Sally shall depart.
After long toils and troubles past, How sweet to trade our native soil, With conquest to return at last? And deck our sweethearts with the spoil! No one to beauty should pretend,
But such as dare its right defend.
FINIS.
# When Late I wander'd/The Sailor's Return

The Sailor's Return.
Behold, from many a hoſtile ſhore, and all the dangers of the main, Where ⟨billows⟩ mount, and tempeſts roar, your faithful ⟨Tom⟩ return again; Returns, and with him brings a heart, That ne'er from Sally ſhall depart.
After long toils and troubles paſt, how sweet to tread our native ſoil, With conqueſt to return at laſt, and deck our sweet hearts with the ſpoil, No one to beauty should pretend, But ſuch as dare it's rights dafend,
FINIS.
# The Tippling Farmer (2)/The Sailor's Return

The Sailor’s Return.
# The Tippling Farmer (2)/The Lover's Summons

The lover's Summons.
# The Tippling Farmer (2)/Farewell to Spring

Farewell to Spring.
# Shepherd's daughter (1)/The sailor's return

THE SAILOR’S RETURN.
Let Fops pretend in flames to melt, And talk of pain they never felt, We Sailors scorn disguise and art, And with our hands bestows our heart.
​Let Ladies prudishly deny, Look cold, and give their tongue the lye, I own the passion in my breast, And long to make my lover bless’d.
For this the Sailor on the mast, Endures the cold and cutting blast, All dropping wet throughout the night, And braves the fury of the fight.
For this the Virgin pines and sighs, With throbbing heart and streaming eyes, ’Tis sweet rivers of joy he proves, And clasps the tender lad she loves.
Ye British youths, be brave, you’ll find, The British Virgins will prove kind: Protect their beauty from all harms. And they’d reward you with their charms.
# The Sailor's Return ('Let Fops pretend in flames to melt')

"Let Fops pretend in flames to melt"
# The Sailor's Return

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.
* The Sailor's Return, a chapbook printed in Glasgow
* "The Sailor's Return" (Behold, from many a hostile shore), a song by an unknown author
* "The Sailor's Return" (A fair maid walking all in a garden), a song by an unknown author
* "The Sailor's Return" (Let Fops pretend in flames to melt), a song by an unknown author
* "The Sailor's Return" (When time brought me back to my father's again), a song by an unknown author
* The Sailor's Return, a novel by David Garnett
# Shepherd's daughter (1)

THE
Shepherd’s Daughter
To which are added,
THE SAILOR’S RETURN.
THE GOWN OF GREEN.
FOOLISH FORT, A HEART.
GLASGOW,
PRINTED BY J. and M. ROBERTSON,
Saltmarket, 1799.
* The Shepherd's Daughter
* The Sailor's Return
* The Gown of Green
* Foolish Fort, a Heart
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
# Shepherd's daughter (1)/The shepherd's daughter

The SHEPHERD’S DAUGHTER.
There was a shepherd's daughter, kept sheep on yonder hill There was a knight and he was bright, who fain would have his will. Chor. And sing O ro malando, crying, O ro follow me. Go follow me to the begging green, my own dear Lamachree.
He has taen her by the milk-white hand, she has gently laid her down. And when he got his will of her,
he took her up again. And &c.
Now since you’ve got your will of me, and brought my body to shame You'll be so good, kind Sir, indeed, as tell to me your name. And &c.
Sometimes they call me Jack, he says, other times they call me John, But when I’m in the King's court, they call me sweet William. And &e.
Then she took up her petticoats, a little above her knee, And she's away to the King’s court, as fast as she could hie. And &c.
​When she came to the King’s court, she knocked at the pin, There was none so ready as the King, to let this maiden in. And &c.
O what’s your will with me Madam?
O what's your will with me? Sir, there’s a man into your court, this day has robbed me. And &c.
O has he robb’d you of your gold, or yet your penny fee. Or has he robb’d thee of thy maidenhead, the flower of thy body. And &c.
He has not robb’d me of my gold, nor yet of my penny fee, But he’s robb'd me of my maidenhead, the flower of my body. And &c.
O its if he be a married man, its hanged he must be, But if he be a batchelor, thy husband he shall be. And &c.
O the King has call’d out his merry men all, by thirty and by three. Sweet William he should be a foremost man, the last man he but three. And &c.
Then he’s ta’en out a purse of gold, and told it on a stone, Saying, Take up that my dearest dear, and go thou thy ways home. And &c.
​I want none of your purse of gold, you’ve told on a stone to me, but I will have your fair body, the King has granted me. And &c.
Then he’s ta’en out a purse of gold, and told it in a glove. Saying, Take you that my dearest dear. go seek another love. And &c.
I want none of year purse of gold, you told in a glove to me but l will have your fair body, the King has granted me. And &c.
Then he’s ta’en out a purse of gold, and told it on his knee, Saying, take you that my dearest dear, you’ll get no more of me. And &c.
I wish I had drank of the water, when I drunk of the wine. That e’er a shepherd’s daughter, should been a lover of mine. And &c.
O when he came to her father’s gate, where she did reckon kin, She was the Queen of fair Scotland, and he but a goldsmith’s son. And &c.
# Shepherd's daughter (1)/The gown of green

THE GOWN OF GREEN.
Some people speak of Hector’s deeds, and Alexander’s fame, Some of proud Nero’s tyrannies, but no such thing we’d name; But listen and I will declare, as briefly as I can, The only fashion now in vogue, is call’d the gown of green. Young women they are fickle things, when they begin to woo The more you follow after them, the more they fly from you: ​But turn your backs upon them, boys, and do not them pursue Give them the gown of green to wear, and then they’ll follow you.
Some men to please their mistresses, will buy them ruffles and rings, Some jewels and fine ornaments, and other costly things; But he that would her favour gain, must use his best endeavour, To give her a gown of green to wear, and she’ll be yours for ever.
My love she’s tall and handsome, she’s comely in her dress, She thinks herself a comely girl, indeed I think no less; Her rosy cheeks and dimpled chin, her age is just sixteen. Yet struggling did at last consent, to take the gown of green
My true love and I was walking, a little bit out of town. We spy’d a bank of fragrant flowers, were gently pressed down; She smiling unto me did say, some body here has been, Or else some gentle shepherdess, getting a gown of green
When Adam first created was, none in the world but he, ​Our mother Eve she was his bride, and full of modesty; No beds of down for them was made, but just a flow’ry plain, No wonder then her daughters love to take the gown of green.
This gown of green if is so rare, tis never out of fashion tis worn by Lords and Gentlemen, and Ladies of high station; For e’er since Adam was a boy, this thing has ever been, ’Tis worn by every nation, boys, and call’d the gown of green.
# Shepherd's daughter (1)/Foolish fort, a heart

FOOLISH FORT, A HEART.
’Tis now since I sat down before, this foolish Fort, a Heart, (Time strangely spent) a year or more, and still I did my part.
Made my approaches from her hand, unto her lip did rise; And did already understand the language of her eyes.
Proceeding on with no less art, my tongue was engineer; I thought to undermine the heart, by whisp’ring in the ear.
​When this did nothing, I brought down, great cannon, oaths, and shot, A thousand, thousand to the town, and still it yielded not.
I then resolv’d to starve the place, by cutting off all kisses; Praising and gazing on her face, with all such little blesses.
To draw her out, and from her strength, I drew all battries in. And brought myself to lie at length, as if no siege had been.
When I had done what man could do, and thought the place my own, The enemy lay quiet too, and smil’d at all was done.
I sent to know from whence and where, these hopes, and this relief: A spy inform’d, Honour was there, and did command in chief,
March, march, quoth I, the word straight give, let’s lose no time, but leave her: That Giant upon air will live, and hold it out for ever.
To such a place our camp remove, as will no siege abide; I hate a fool that starves her love, only to feed her pride.
Printed by J. & M. Robertson, Saltmarket, 1799.
# The Sailor's Return (1806, Glasgow)/The Sailor's Return

THE SAILOR'S RETURN.
# The Sailor's Return (1806, Glasgow)/The Female Soldier

THE FEMALE SOLDIER.
# The Sailor's Return (1806, Glasgow)/The True Hearted Maiden

THE TRUE HEARTED MAIDEN
# The Sailor's Return (1806, Glasgow)/The Forsaken Nymph

THE FORSAKEN NYMPH.
# The Sailor's Return (1806, Glasgow)/The Gin Drinker's Frolic

THE GIN DRINKER'S FROLIC.
# The Sailor's Return (1806, Glasgow)/A Trip to the Fair

A TRIP TO THE FAIR.
GLASGOW, Printed by J. & M. Robertson, Saltmarket, 1806.
# The Sailor's Return (1806, Glasgow)

THE
Sailor's Return.
TO WHICH ARE ADDED,
THE FEMALE SOLDIER.
THE TRUE HEARTED MAIDEN.
THE FORSAKEN NYMPH.
The GIN DRINKER'S FROLIC.
A TRIP TO THE FAIR.
GLASGOW, PRINTED BY J. AND M. ROBERTSON, Saltmarket, 1806.
* The Sailor's Return
* The Female Soldier
* The True Hearted Maiden
* The Forsaken Nymph
* The Gin Drinker's Frolic
* A Trip to the Fair
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
# Welcome Charlie o'er the main

Welcome Charlie o'er the Main;
To which are added,
The day Returns,
Hills of Gallowa,
Oh Nancy wilt thou fly with me,
The Sailor Boy,
The Sailor's Return.
STIRLING:
Printed and Sold, Wholesale and Retail,
by W. Macnie, Bookseller.
1826.
* Welcome Charlie O'er The Main
* The Day Returns
* The Sailor Boy
* Hills Of Gallowa
* Oh Nancy Wilt Thou Fly With Me
* The Sailor's Return
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
# Sentimental reciter

THE
SENTIMENTAL RECITER:
a selection of the
MOST POPULAR PIECES FOR RECITATION.
GLASGOW:
PRINTED FOR THE BOOKSELLERS.
1856.
Price One Penny.
* The Ruined Cottage
* The Better Land
* Ginevra
* The Victory
* Tell's Speech
* The Ocean
* Saul
* The Spanish Champion
* Crescentius
* Claude Melnotte's Description of the Lake of Como
* The Old Arm Chair
* The Sailor's Return
* The Idiot
* The Dewy Eve
* The Old Farm Gate
* The Suicide
* Lord Ullin's Daughter
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
# Sentimental reciter/The Better Land

THE BETTER LAND.
I hear thee speak of the better land, Thou call’st its children a happy band; Mother, oh! where is that radiant shore?— Shall we not seek it, and weep no more? Is it where the flower of the orange blows, And the fire-flies glance through the myrtle boughs? Not there, not there, my child!
Is it where the feathery palm-trees rise, And the date grows ripe under sunny skies? Or ’midst the green islands of glittering seas, Where fragrant forests perfume the breeze, And strange bright birds, on their starry wings, Bear the rich hues of all glorious things? Not there, not there, my child!
Is it far away, in some region old, Where the rivers wander o’er sands of gold, Where the burning rays of the ruby shine, And the diamond lights up the secret mine, And the pearl gleams forth from the coral strand? Is it there, sweet mother! that better land? Not there, not there, my child!
Eye hath not seen it, my gentle boy! Ear hath not heard its deep songs of joy, Dreams cannot picture a world so fair; Sorrow and death may not enter there, Time doth not breathe on its fadeless bloom, For beyond the clouds, and beyond the tomb—
It is there, it is there, my child!
Hemans.
# Sentimental reciter/The Victory

THE VICTORY.
Hark! how the church bell’s thundering harmony Stirs the glad ear! tidings of joy have come, Good tidings of great joy! two gallant ships Met on the element—they met, they fought A desperate fight! good tidings of great joy! Old England triumph’d! yet another day Of glory for the ruler of the waves! For those who fell, ’twas in their country’s cause, They have their passing paragraphs of praise, And are forgotten.
​There was one who died In that day’s glory, whose obscurer name No proud historian’s page will chronicle. Peace to his honest soul!I read his name, ’Twas in the list of slaughter, and blest God The sound was not familiar to mine ear. But it was told me after that this man Was one whom lawful violence had forced From his own home, and wife and little ones, Who by his labour lived; that he was one Whose uncorrupted heart could keenly feel A husband’s love ; a father’s anxiousness; That, from the wages of his toil, he fed The distant dear ones, and would talk of them At midnight when he trod the silent deck With him he valued—talk of them, of joys Which he had known—oh, God! and of the hour When they should meet again, till his full heart, His manly heart, at last would overflow Even like a child’s with very tenderness. Peace to his honest spirit! the ball Of death came suddenly, and shatter’d him, And left no moment’s agonizing thought On those he loved so well.
He ocean deep Now lies at rest. Be Thou her comforter Who art the widow’s friend!Man does not know What a cold sickness made her blood run back, When first she heard the tidings of the fight; Man does not know with what a dreadful hope She listen’d to the names of those who died; Man does not know, or knowing, will not heed, With what an agony of tenderness She gazed upon her children, and beheld His image who was gone.Oh, God! be thou Who art the widow’s friend, her comforter!
Southey.
# Sentimental reciter/Tell's Speech

TELL’S SPEECH.
Ye crags and peaks, I’m with you once again! I hold to you the hands you first beheld, To show they still are free.Methinks I hear A spirit in your echoes answer me, And bid your tenant welcome to his home Again!—O sacred forms, how proud you look! ​How high you lift your heads into the sky! How huge you are! how mighty and how free! Ye are the things that tower, that shine-whose smile Makes glad-whose frown is terrible-whose forms, Robed or unrobed, do all the impress wear Of awe divine. Ye guards of liberty, I'm with you once again!-I call to you With all my voice!-I hold my hands to you To show they still are free. I rush to you As though I could embrace you!
Sealing yonder peak, I saw an eagle wheeling near its brow O'er the abyss: his broad expanded wings Lay calm and motionless upon the air, As if he floated there without their aid, By the sole act of his unlorded will, That buoy'd him proudly up. Instinctively I bent my bow; yet kept he rounding still His airy circle, as in the delight Of measuring the ample range beneath, And round about absorbed, he heeded not The death that threaten'd him.-I could not shoot!- 'Twas liberty!-I turned my bow aside, And let him soar away!
Heavens, with what pride I used To walk these hills, and look up to my God, And bless him that it was so! It was free! From end to end, from cliff to lake 'twas free- Free as our torrents are that leap our rocks, And plough our valleys, without asking leave: Or as our peaks that wear their caps of snow, In very presence of the regal sun, How happy was it then! I loved Its very storms. Yes, Emma, I have sat In my boat at night, when, midway o'er the lake, The stars went out, and down the mountain gorge The wind came roaring. I have sat and eyed The thunder breaking from his cloud, and smiled To see him shake his lightnings o'er my head, And think I had no master save his own. You know the jutting cliff round which a track Up hither winds, whose base is but the brow To such another one, with scanty room For two a-breast to pass ? O'ertaken there By the mountain blast, I've laid me flat along, And while gust followed gust more furiously,
​As if to sweep me o’er the horrid brink, And I have thought of other lands, whose storms Are summer flaws to those of mine, and just Have wished me there—the thought that mine was free, Has check’d that wish, and I have raised my head, And cried in thraldom to that furious wind, Blow on! This is the land of liberty! Knowles.
# Sentimental reciter/The Ocean

THE OCEAN.
Most, if not all of you, who are now present, have beheld the Ocean; some of you, many times, so that you have become familiar with it. Others of you have been often upon it; and to some of you, perhaps, through the duties of your profession, it may, without impropriety, be styled your element.
But every individual present, who can remember the first instance in which that boundless expanse of waters presented itself to his view, can also remember the wonder, amounting perhaps even to speechless astonishment, with which that first prospect filled his mind.
Those of you that have often beheld it, although familiarity should have put an end to all sensations of astonishment, yet must have been impressed at times with its regular ebbing and flowing, with the beauty of its surface when calm, or the still greater beauty of that surface when dimpled by soft breezes into myriads of smiles—must not unfrequently have been struck with the sudden and dazzling whiteness of its foam, when the last wave is broken along the shore,—with its incessant roaring when disturbed by heavy gales—and especially when, agitated and roused by storms, it pours its liquid mountains upon the rock, with a noise that drowns the loudest peals of heaven’s own thunder. I say, those who have seen it under these different aspects, will have often been excited by their feelings, yet not without the full consent of their understanding, to cry out, “This must be the work of God; yes, the sea is his, and he made it!”
Those to whom their profession has made the watery world their element, have been still more feelingly impressed with sentiments of this nature. The calm that impeded their course; the favouring gales that pleasurably wrafted them to their desired haven; the bounding billows which bore them along as in a joyous dance; the howling tempest which gave the stoutest ship the rapid motion of an eagle’s flight; the imperious surge that lifted them to heaven, then sunk them ​down as low in the yawning abyss, which irresistibly drove them upon the fatal sand, or dashed them in shipwreck upon the pointed and resistless rock,—these told them in accents loud as the last trumpet’s voice,—“The sea is God’s, and he made it!”
Edwards.
# The Kural or the Maxims of Tiruvalluvar/Chapter 3

CHAPTER 3
THE GREATNESS OF THOSE WHO HAVE RENOUNCED THE WORLD
21. Behold the men who have renounced sense-enjoyments and live a life of discipline : the scriptures exalt their glory above every other good.
22. Thou canst not measure the greatness of ascetics : thou canst as well count the number of the dead.
23. Behold the men who have weighed this life with the next and have renounced: the earth is made radiant by their greatness.
24. Behold the man whose firm will controlleth his five senses even as the goading hook controlleth the elephant : he is a seed fit for the fields of heaven.
25. The King of the Gods himself, Indra, is witness unto the might of him that hath burned away the five desires.
​26. The great ones are they who can achieve the impossible: the feeble ones are those who cannot.
27. Behold the man who appreciateth at their true value the sensations of touch and taste and sight and sound and smell : he will command the world.
28. The scriptures of the world proclaim the greatness of the men of the mighty word.
29. It is impossible to support even for a second the wrath of those who stand on the rock of renunciation.
30. It is saintly men that are to be called Brâhmans: for it is they that have compassion on all life.
* ↑ i.e. control their senses.
* ↑ i.e. who knows that they are transient and at the same time misleading, and who therefore endeavours to transcend them.
# The Kural or the Maxims of Tiruvalluvar/Chapter 4

CHAPTER 4
THE GLORIFICATION OF RIGHTEOUSNESS
31. Righteousness leadeth unto heaven and it bringeth wealth also: what is there that is more profitable than Righteousness?
32. There is no greater good than Righteousness, nor no greater ill than the forgetting of it.
33. Be thou unremitting in the doing of good deeds : do them with all thy might and by every means.
34. Be pure in heart : all righteousness is contained in this one commandment: all other things are nought but empty sound.
35. Avoid envy and greed, anger and harsh words : that is the way to acquire righteousness.
​36. Say not in thy heart, I shall be righteous by and bye, but begin to do good works without delaying: for it is Righteousness will be thy undying companion on the day of thy death.
37. Ask me not, Where is the good of Righteousness ? Look at the bearer of the palanquin and him that rideth on it.
38. If thou do good all thy life without a single waste day, thou wallest up the road to future births.
39. That alone is delight which cometh of Righteousness : all else is pain and shame.
40. That action alone is worth doing which is righteous : and all action must be shunned which is unrighteous.
HERE ENDETH THE INTRODUCTION