OpenLLM-France/wikimedia huggingface dataset:
# Mary's Dream (Lowe)

"The author of this beautiful poem was John Lowe, a son of the gardener at Kenmure castle in Galloway. Having studied for the church, he was employed as tutor by Mr. Macghie at Airds, an estate near the confluence of the Dee and the Ken. While residing there, about the year 1772, a gentleman named Alexander Miller, the lover of Miss Mary Macghie, was drowned at sea—and this gave occasion to the song which preserves Lowe's name." —Alexander Whitelaw, The Book of Scottish Song (1843)
* "Mary, weep nae mair for me", in Six most excellent songs (n.d.), a chapbook printed in Glasgow
* "Mary's Dream", in The Soldier's Departure (n.d.), a chapbook printed in Stirling
* "Mary's Dream" in Mary's Dream (1812), a chapbook printed in Paisley
* "Mary's dream" in Last May a braw wooer (1818), a chapbook printed in Edinburgh
* "Mary's Dream", in The Musical Charmer (1819), a chapbook printed in Falkirk
* "Mary's dream" in Rigs o' barley (1821), a chapbook printed in Glasgow
* "Mary's Dream", in Seven Popular Songs (1826), a chapbook printed in Falkirk
* "Mary's Dream" in The Book of Scottish Song (1843), edited by Alexander Whitelaw
# Seven Popular Songs (1826, Falkirk)/Mary's Dream

MARY'S DREAM.
# Seven Popular Songs (1826, Falkirk)/The Meeting of the Waters

Meeting of the Waters.
# The Meeting of the Waters

* "There is not in the wide world a valley so sweet", in Irish Melodies (1821)
* "The meeting of the waters", in Down the burn Davie (1823), a chapbook printed in Edinburgh
* "The Meeting of the Waters", in Seven Popular Songs (1826), a chapbook printed in Falkirk
# Irish Melodies/There is not in the wide world a valley so sweet

THE MEETING OF THE WATERS*.
I.
There is not in the wide world a valley so sweet
As that vale, in whose bosom the bright waters meet†;
Oh! the last rays of feeling and life must depart,
Ere the bloom of that valley shall fade from my heart.
II.
Yet, it was not that nature had shed o'er the scene
Her purest of crystal and brightest of green;
'Twas not the soft magic of streamlet or hill,
Oh! no,— it was something more exquisite still.
III.
'Twas that friends, the belov'd of my bosom, were near,
Who made every dear scene of enchantment more dear,
And who felt how the best charms of nature improve,
When we see them reflected from looks that we love.
IV.
Sweet vale of Avoca! how calm could I rest
In thy bosom of shade, with the friends I love best,
Where the storms that we feel in this cold world should cease,
And our hearts, like thy waters, be mingled in peace!
* ↑ "The Meeting of the Waters," forms a part of that beautiful scenery which lies between Rathdrum and Arklow, in the county of Wicklow, and these lines were suggested by a visit to this romantic spot, in the summer of the year 1807.
* ↑ The rivers Avon and Avoca.
# Down the burn Davie/The meeting of the waters

THE MEETING OF THE WATERS.
There is not, in this wide world, a valley so sweet As that vale in whose bosom the bright waters meet; Ah! the last rays of feeling and life must depart, ​Ere the bloom of that valley shall ⟨fade⟩ from my heart.
Yet it was not that nature had shed ⟨o'er⟩ the scene
Her purest of crystal and brightest ⟨of⟩ green, It was not the soft magic of ⟨streamlet⟩ or rill, Ah! no, it was something more exquisite still.
Twas that friends the beloved of my bosom were near, Who made every scene of enchantment more dear, And who felt how the best charms ⟨of⟩ nature improve, When we see them reflected from looks that we love.
Sweet vale of Ovoca, how calm could I rest
In thy bosom of shade, with the friends I love best; When the storms which we feel in this cold world would cease, ​And our hearts, like thy waters, be mingled in peace.
# Roy's Wife of Aldivalloch (Grant)

This song is sometimes misattributed to Anne Grant. It has an anonymous sequel, called "The Happy Relief"
* "Roy's Wife of Aldivalloch" in Roy's Wife of Aldivalloch (1800)
* "Roy's Wife of Aldivalloch" in Four excellent new songs (1805)
* "Roy's Wife of Aldivalloch" in The Canary (1810), a chapbook printed in Paisley
* "Roy's Wife of Aldivalloch" in Musical garland (1810–1825)
* "Roy's Wife of Aldivalloch" in Roy's Wife of Aldivalloch (1823)
* "Roy's Wife", in Seven Popular Songs (1826), a chapbook printed in Falkirk
* "Roy's Wife of Aldivalloch" in Four Songs (n.d.), a chapbook printed in Kilmarnock
* "Roy's Wife" in The Book of Scottish Song (1843), edited by Alexander Whitelaw
# Seven Popular Songs (1826, Falkirk)/Roy's Wife

Roy's Wife.
# Poems (Katharine Elizabeth Howard)

POEMS
BY
KATHARINE HOWARD
Author of "Candle Flame," "Eve," "The Book of the Serpent," etc.
BOSTON
SHERMAN, FRENCH & COMPANY
1914
Copyright, 1914
Sherman, French & Company
TO
MY FATHER AND MY MOTHER
IN THEIR YOUTH
CONTENTS
BY THE SAME AUTHOR
THE BOOK OF THE SERPENT Original, piquant, delicately cynical. . . . The story of Creation, the theory of evolution, and the main points of worldly wisdom are satirized with a gentle deftness that neither rouses to wrath nor yet exciteth to laughter, but touches us and makes us smile and think. . . . There is no denying that at times this little book wears the astonishing aspect of an individual creation of a world-myth. . . . A unique morsel of sly humor for the elect.—New York Times. EVE An epic of the beginning and the end,—too serious in its solemn, slow music to give us humor, too intent upon its revelation to place its message in other than what will appear to the layman occult terms. It is the voice dimly heard of the higher urge that stirs woman, the thing that we miscall feminism, the groping toward certain nobler races now dimly imagined.—Review of Reviews. CANDLE FLAME Delicate as a moonstone set in silver. . . . Katharine Howard has, above all things, originality, and to this she adds a poetic mysticism and a tricksy sense of humor—elements which at first seem incompatible. That she enjoys her own philosophies and whimsies is ever evident. The reader perceives a rich and singular personality through the mist of this delicate occultism, this iridescent humor, this evasive loveliness of broken verse.—Elia W. Peattie in Chicago Tribune.
Each $1.00 net; by mail, $1.08
SHERMAN, FRENCH & COMPANY
Publishers
This work is in the public domain in the United States because it was published before January 1, 1929.
This work may be in the public domain in countries and areas with longer native copyright terms that apply the rule of the shorter term to foreign works.
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# Dugald MacTaggart (2)/The last rose of summer

THE LAST ROSE OF SUMMER.
'Tis the last rose of summer left blooming alone, All its lovely companions are faded and gone; No flow'r of its kindred, no rose-bud is nigh, To reflect back its blushes, or heave sigh for sigh.
I'll not leave thee, thou lone one, to pine on the stem, Since the lovely are sleeping, go sleep thou with them; Thus kindly I scatter thy leaves o‘er the bed, Where thy mates of the garden lye scentless and dead.
So, soon may I follow when friendships decay, And from love's shining circle the gems drop away; ​When true hearts are wither'd, and fond ones are flown, O who would inhabit this bleak world alone.
# Highland plaid (2)/The Last Rose of Summer

THE LAST ROSE OF SUMMER.
'Tis the last rose of summer left blooming alone, All its lovely companions are faded and gone; No flow'r of its kindred, no rose-bud is nigh, To reflect back its blushes, or heave sigh for sigh
I'll not leave thee, thou lone one, to pine on the stem Since the lovely are sleeping, go sleep thou with thein;
​Thus kindly I scatter thy leaves o'er the bed, Where thy mates of the garden lye scentless and dead.
So soon may I follow when friendships decay, And from love's shining circle the gems drop away; When true hearts are wither'd and fond ones are flown, O who would inhabit this bleak world alone.
# Seven Popular Songs (1826, Falkirk)/The Last Rose of Summer

THE LAST ROSE OF SUMMER.
# Ten Favourite Songs/The last Rose of summer

The last Rose of summer.
# A Dictionary of Music and Musicians/Tis the Last Rose of Summer

​'TIS THE LAST ROSE OF SUMMER. A song written by Thomas Moore to the tune of 'The Groves of Blarney'; this again being possibly a variation of an older air called 'The Young Man's dream,' which Moore has adapted to the words 'As a beam on the face of the waters may glow.' Blarney, near Cork, became popular in 1788 or 1789, and it was then that the words of 'The Groves of Blarney' were written by R. A. Millikin, an attorney of Cork. The tune may be older, though this is not at all certain: it is at all events a very beautiful and characteristic Irish melody. We give it in both its forms, as it is a good example of the way in which Moore, with all his taste, often destroyed the peculiar character of the melodies he adapted.
The Groves of Blarney.
The Last Rose of Summer.
[ G. ]
* ↑ The writer is indebted to Mr. T. W. Joyce for the above Information. See too Mr. and Mrs. S. C. Hall's 'Ireland.' i. 49, and Lover's 'Lyrics of Ireland.'
* ↑ Of the date of this piece no trace is forthcoming. It probably belongs to his first English visit. Its publication (by Spina) appears to date from Mendelssohn's visit to Vienna, en route to Italy.
* ↑ 'Lettres intimes,' p. 283.
# Poems (Katharine Elizabeth Howard)/Moon-faring

MOON-FARING
# Dugald MacTaggart (2)/Dugald MacTaggart

DUGALD M'TAGGART.
Would you'll know me my name, 'od she's Dugald M'Taggart, She'll brought hersel down frae the hill o' Lochaber, To learn her nae sell to be a grand haberdabber, Or a braw linen drabber, the tane or the twa.
When she'll come to the laigh kintra 'od she'll look unco shy like, For she was na weel acquant ye see wi the laigs kintra dialect, Hoo hoo, never heed, 'od she'd plenty o' gaelic, There's no ane had mair on the braes ⟨o'⟩ Glendoo.
Then she'll tak a big shop and ⟨she'll⟩ turn a great dealer, She'll get the lang trust, and they'll ⟨no⟩ seek nae bailure, But Dugald M'Taggart hersell ⟨maks a⟩ failure, ​And they'll call her a bankrupt-a trade she'll not knew.
They'll then call a meeting, 'od she'll look unco quiet now, She was keen to get awa, but faith they bade her to wait now, And they'll talk a' the while about a great estate now, Od she'll think that they thought her the laird o' Glendoo.
Then they'll syne seek her name to-they'll ca'd a trust deeder, Faith hersel wadna sign 'cause herself couldna read her, And they'll seek componsitions, hoo hoo never heed her, There's nae sic a word on tha braes o' Glendoo.
If I'd hane my durk, by the L-d I'd devour them, For they took me to jail though I stood there afore them, But now I've gotten out on a hashie minorum, ​And faith I'm as free as the winds on Glendoo.
# Dugald MacTaggart (2)/I have parks, I have grounds

THE GIRL OF MY HEART.
I have parks, I have grounds, I have deer, I have hounds, And for sporting a neat little cottage, I have youth, I have wealth, I have strength, I have health, Yet I mope like a beau in his dotage. What can I want?-'Tis the girl of my heart, To share those treasures with me, For had I the wealth which the Indies impart, No pleasure would it give me, Without the lovely girl of my heart. The sweet lovely girl of my heart.
My domain far extends, And sustains social friends, Who make music divinely enchanting; We have balls, we have plays, We have routs, public days ​And yet still I find something is wanting; What should it be, but the girl of my heart, To share those treasures with me! For had I the wealth which the Indies impart, No pleasure it would give me, Without the lovely girl of my heart. Then give me the girl of my heart.
# Dugald MacTaggart (2)/Love's blind, they say

LOVE HAS EYES.
Love's blind, they say, O never, nay; Can words Love's grace impart? The fancy, weak, The tongue may speak, But eyes alone the heart. ​In one soft look what language lies! O yes, believe me, Love has eyes.
Love's wing'd, they cry— O, never, I- On pinions love to soar; Deceivers rove, But never love, Attach'd he moves no more: Can he have wings who never flies? And yes, believe me, Love has eyes.
FINIS.
# Herrin in sa't

The Herrin in Sa't;
To which are added,
O fy haste Marg'ret,
The Mill, Mill, O.
STIRLING.
Printed by W. Macnie,
1825.
* Herrin in Sa't
* The Answer
* O fy haste Marg'ret
* The mill, mill, o
This work was published before January 1, 1929, and is in the public domain worldwide because the author died at least 100 years ago.
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# Herrin in sa't/O fy haste Marg'ret

O FY, HASTE MARG'RET
O fy, haste Marg'ret! woman are ye in? I nae sooner heard it, than fast I did rin, Down the gate to tell ye, I ran down the gate to tell ye, I ran down the gate to tell ye, we'll no be left our skin.
O gin ye heard it! O dear, dear! There has nae been the like o’t since Mar's years: For I'm a' panting panting panting, For I’m a' panting find my heart here.
Fu' weel did I ken that a' was nae right, For I dreamt o' red an' green a’ the last night; Twa cats fighting, fighting, fighting, An' twa cats fighting; I waken'd in a fright.
But ken ye gin our neighbour Elspit be in? As ay gae and tell her an' see that ye rin, An' auld Robby Barbar, auld Robby Barbar, An' auld Rabby Barbar for we maun tell him.
O a'ay a wee woman an' tell it a' out, They're bringing in black Popery, I fear an’ I doubt ​An' a sad reformation a sad reformation, A sad reformation in a' the kirks about.
Muckle do they say, an' mair may we fear; The French an' the Spaniards are a' coming here; And we'll a' be murder'd, murder'd, murder'd, And we'll a' be murder'd, that's very clear.
But, for my part, I'm easy altho' they come the morn, I'll gie them anither turn, for a' the nicks that's on my horn,
For I'll no yield it, yield it, yield it, For I'll no yield it to ony man born.
Do ye so mind just on this very floor, When we were a' reckit out to gang to Sherriemuir Wi stanes in our aprons, wi' stanes in our aprons, Wi stanes in our aprons, we did muckle deol, I'm sure.
Eh! now Marg'ret was nae yon a gun? Asweel no, Elspit, it’s me breaking win’; An' we're weel when we want it, want it, want it, We're weel when we want it awa wi' little din.
# Seven Popular Songs (1826, Falkirk)/And We're A' Noddin

And We're a Noddin.
# And We're A' Noddin

* "We'er a' Noddin'", in The Village Sexton (1823), a chapbook printed in Glasgow
* "And We're A' Noddin", in Seven Popular Songs (1826), a chapbook printed in Falkirk
* "We're a' noddin'", in The Book of Scottish Song (1843), edited by Alexander Whitelaw
# The Village Sexton/We'er a' Noddin'

WE'ER A' NODDIN',
Guide-'en to you, kimmir, and how do you now: Hiccup, quo' the kimmer, the better that I'm fou,' And we're a' noddin', nid nid noddin, And we're a' noddin' at our house at hame.
Guide e'en to you, kimener, and how do you thrive; How many bairns hae you; quo' the kimmer I hae five. And we're a' neddin', &c,
And ate they a' Johnnie's: na, atweel na Two o' them were gotten when he was far awa. And we're a' noddm', &c.
Kate sits i' the nenk, suppin' hen broo, Diel tak' Kate, if she be na noddin' too, And we're a' neddin', &c.
Cats like milk, dogs like broo, Lads like lasses, and lasses lads too. And we're a' noddin', &c,
FINIS.
# The Book of Scottish Song/We're a' noddin'

We're a' noddin'.
I.
[There are various readings of this old doggrel. Part of it can be traced in Bishop Percy's MS. as far back as 1560. We give here, first, the version which Burns furbished up for Johnson's Museum. Miss Stephens, we believe, has the praise or blame of introducing the tune, and a modified version of the words, into fashionable society more than twenty years ago.]
Gude'en to you, kimmer, And how do ye do? Hiccup, quo' kimmer, The better that I'm fou. We're a' noddin', Nid, nid, noddin', We're a' noddin', At our house at hame.
Kate sits i' the neuk, Suppin' hen broo; Deil tak' Kate, An' she be na noddin' too! We're a' noddin', &c.
How's a' wi' you, kimmer, And how do ye fare? A pint o' the best o't, And twa pints mair. We're a' noddin', &c.
How's a' wi' you, kimmer, And how do ye thrive? How mony bairns ha'e ye? Quo' kimmer, I ha'e five. We're a' noddin', &c.
Are they a' Johnny's Eh! atweel na: Twa o' them were gotten When Johnny was awa'. We're a' noddin', &c.
​Cats like milk, And dogs like broo, Lads like lasses weel, And lasses lads too. We're a' noddin' &c.
II.
[Verses furnished by Allan Cunningham to Thomson's Select Melodies of Scotland.]
Our gudewife's awa', Now's the time to woo For the lads like lasses, And the lasses lads too. The moon's beaming bright, And the gowan 's in dew, And my love 's by my side, And we're a' happy now. And we're a' noddin', Nid, nid noddin', And we're a' noddin', At our house at hame.
I have wale of loves,— Nannie rich and fair, Bessie brown and bonnie, And Kate wi' curling hair; And Bell young and proud, Wi' gold aboon her brow, But my Jean has twa e'en That glow'r me through and through. And we're a' noddin', &c.
Sair she slights the lads, Three lie like to dee, Four in sorrow listed, And five flew to the sea. Nigh her chamber door A' night they watch in dool, Ae kind word frae my love Would charm frae yule to yule. And we're a' noddin', &c.
Our gudewife 's come hame, Now mute maun I woo; My true love's bright glances Shine a' the chamber through; O, sweet is her voice, When she sings at her wark, Sweet the touch of her hand, And her vows in the dark. And we're a' noddin', &c.
III.
[Verses to the same air—author unknown. The tune admits of considerable latitude as to the measure of the line.]
Gude'en to ye, kimmer, And are ye alane? O, come and see how blythe are we, For Jamie he's cam' hame, And O, but he's been lang awa', And O, my heart was sair As I sobbed out a lang fareweel— Maybe to meet nae mair. Noo we're a' noddin', &c.
O, sair ha'e I fought, Ear' and late did I toil, My bairnies for to feed and cleed— My comfort was their smile; When I thocht on Jamie far awa', An' o' his love sae fain, A bodin' thrill cam' through my heart We'd maybe meet again. Noo we're a' noddin', &c.
When he knocket at the door, I thocht I kent the rap, And little Katie cried, "My daddie he's cam' back," A stoun gaed through my anxious breast As thochtfully I sat, I raise, I gazed, fell in his arms, And bursted out and grat. Noo we're a' noddin', &c.
# The Village Sexton

THE VILLAGE SEXTON,
To which is added,
THE BOATIE ROWS,
The Days o' Lang Syne, THE LASS O’ GOWRIE, We’re a Noddin’.
GLASGOW: Published and Sold, Wholesale and Retail, by R. Hutchison, Bookseller, 19. Saltmarket.
1823.
* The Village Sexton
* The Boatie Rows
* The Days o' Lang Syne
* The Lass o' Gowrie
* We'er a' Noddin'
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 Village Sexton/The Village Sexton

THE VILLAGE SEXTON.
Tune---Cameron's got his life again.
Donald Caird's come again, Donald Caird's come again, Tell lie news by elachan glen, Donald Caird's come again.
Donald now our Kirk doth grace, Wi' his elritch hieland face, And oxters up the Book in state, O' whilk he kens the de'il hate.
Whiles he's gloomin', while he's cival, Whiles he's like a raging deevil; But to mak bim guid, just tryste a lair! Ay! that's the nick for Donald Caird.
Donald Caird can ring the bell, Maist as weel's the Earl himsel'; But yet he canna jnst gart jow, To Nicol's notes of "Lint and Tow."
But still the body's fond to bring, Notes ont o' the auld cracket thing, And stead o' its auld ancient air, He's learning't to say Donald Caird.
​Donald Caird can wield a spade, Fast as onv o' the trade; Houk a hole, or lay a stane, Gleg as ony 'round the glea: Let him taste the barley-brae, The mools he'il cast a storey hie, Then rattling stane, and skulls a' bare, Are flung, Jike dirt, by Donald Caird.
Whiles Donald roars, when nane are deeing Hoot man! it's a trade no worth ha'ing; It is na constant bread ava; Yet faith he winna fling't awa.
Now kintry bodies be good to Donald, For he's cam aff the great Clan Ronald; He'll watch the kirk yard after ten; Donald Caird's come again.
# The Village Sexton/The Days o' Lang Syne

THE DAYS O' LANG SYNE.
When war had broke in on the prace o' auld men, And frae Chelsea to arms they were summon'd again, Twa vel'rans grown grey, wi' their muskets sair foil'd, Wi'a sigh were relating how hard they had toil'd: The drum it was beating, to fight they incline, But ay they look back on the days o' lang syne.
Hech! Davie, man, weel thou remembers the time, When twa brisk young callans, and just in our prime; The prince led us, conquer'd, and show'd us the way, And monie braw chiel we turu'd cauld on that day: Still again I wad venture this auld trunk o' mine, Cou'd our gen'rals but lead, or we fight like langsyne.
But garrison duty is a' we can do. Tho' our arms are worn weak, yet our hearts are still true; We fear'd neither danger by land or by sea, For time is turn'd coward, and no you and me; ​And tho' at oar fate we may sadly repine, Youth winna return, nor the strength o' lang syne.
When after our conquests, it joys me to mind, How thy Jean caress'd thee and my Meg was kind: They shar'd a' our dangers tho' ever sae hard, Nor car'd we for plunder when sic our reward; Ev'n now they're rosolv'd baith their hames to resign, And to share the hard fate they were used to lang syne.
# The Village Sexton/The Lass o' Gowrie

THE LASS O' GOWRIE.
Upon a simmer afternoon, A wee before the sun gade down, My lassie in a braw new gown, Cam o'er the hi'ls to Gowrie. The rose-bud ting'd with morning show'r, Blooms fresh within the sunny bow'r; But Katie was the fairest flower That ever bloom'd in Gowrie.
Nae thought had I to do her wrang, But round her waist my arms I flang, And said, My dearie, will ye gang To see the Carse o' Gowrie? ​I'll tak ye to my father's ha', In you green fields beside the shaw; I'll mak you lady o them a', The brawest wife in Gowrie.
A silken gown o'siller grey, My mither coft last new-year's-day, And buskit me frae tap te tae, To keep are out o' Gowrie. Daft Will, short syne, cam courting Nell, And wan the lass, but what befel, Or whar she's gane, she kens hersel, She staid na lang in Gowrie.
Sic thoughts, dear Katie, ill combine Wi' beauty rare, and wit like thine; Except yoursel, my bonny queer, I care for nought in Gowrie. Since first I saw you in the sheal, To you my heart's been true and leal; The darkest night I fear nae de'il, Warlock or witch, in Gowrie.
Saft kisses on her lips I laid, The blush upon her cheeks soon spread; She whisper'd modestly, and said, O Pate, I'll stay in Gowrie. The auld folks soon gac their consent, Syne for Mess John they quickly sent, Wha ty'd them to their heart's content, And now she's Lady Gowrie.
# Jersey Journal/1908/McCabe - Langan

Owen Francis Langan (1884-1963) in the Jersey Journal on July 2, 1908.
McCabe - Langan.
At St. Mary's Roman Catholic Church, on Second Street, last Saturday afternoon, June 27. Miss May Bernadette McCabe, daughter of Mr. and Mrs. James McCabe, Sr., married to Mr. Owen Francis Langan, son of Mr. and Mrs. James Langan of this city, Rev. Father Smith officiating Miss Cecilia Langan, sister of the bridegroom, was bridesmaid, and Mr. Thomas J. McCabe, brother of the bride, best man. The bride wore a gown of white lingerie and a white Milan hat trimmed with ostrich plumes, and she carried white carnations. The bridesmaid was attired in white lingerie over pink silk and she wore a white hat with pink roses. Her flowers were pink carnations. After the ceremony a supper was served and later in the evening Mr. and Mrs. Langan left for a wedding trip.
# Severe Thunderstorm Watch Number 260 (2024)

A Particularly Dangerous Situation (PDS) Severe Thunderstorm Watch issued by the United States Storm Prediction Center on May 19, 2024. This was the 260th watch issued by the Storm Prediction Center during 2024.
| Hazard | Tornadoes | EF2+ Tornadoes | Severe Wind | 65 kt+ Wind | Severe Hail | 2"+ Hail |
| Likelihood | Moderate | Low | High | High | High | High |
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).
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