OpenLLM-France/wikimedia huggingface dataset:
# Krilof and His Fables/The Boy and the Worm

The Boy and the Worm.
A Worm begged a Peasant to let it go into his garden and spend the summer there as his guest. It pro­mised to behave honourably, and not to touch the fruit; to eat nothing but leaves, and those only which had already begun to fade.
The Peasant thought, "How can I deny it a refuge? Shall I feel cramped in my garden because there is a worm the more in it? Let it go and live there. Besides, even if it does eat two or three leaves, that won't be a serious loss."
He consents. The Worm crawls up a tree, finds a refuge from bad weather under a twig, lives there, if not sumptu­ ously, yet with all its wants supplied, and no one hears a word about it.
Meanwhile the king of light had already gilded the fruits. There, in that garden, where everything else was fast grow­ ing mellow, an apple, transparent, clear as amber, had fully ripened on a twig in the sun.
Now a Boy had long been enamoured of that apple, which he had picked out of a thousand others. But the apple was hard to get at. To climb the apple-tree the boy did not ​dare, to shake it he was not strong enough—in a word, he could not tell how to get hold of the apple.
Who helped the Boy to the theft? The Worm.
"Listen!" it says. "I know to a certainty that the master has ordered the apples to be gathered, so this one won't stop here long for either of us. Still I can undertake to get it, only you must share it with me. But you may take even ten times more than I do for your share, for a very little portion of it will take me a whole age to eat."
The Boy consented and the compact was made. The Worm climbed up the apple-tree, set to work, and gnawed away the apple in a moment. But what was the recompense it got? No sooner had the apple fallen than the Boy ate it up, pips and all, and when the Worm had crawled down to get its share, the Boy crushed it under his heel. And so there was an end of both the "Worm and the apple.
# The year's at the spring/Thomas, E

The Cherry Trees
THE cherry trees bend over and are shedding On the old road where all that passed are dead, Their petals, strewing the grass as for a wedding This early May morn when there is none to wed.
EDWARD THOMAS
# Verses (Shorter)/A Rose Will Fade

From Verses (1893).
A ROSE WILL FADE.
You were always a dreamer, Rose, red Rose, As you swung on your perfumed spray, Swinging, and all the world was true, Swaying, what did it trouble you? A rose will fade in a day.
Why did you smile to his face, red Rose, As he whistled across your way? And all the world went mad for you. All the world it knelt to woo. A rose will bloom in a day.
I gather your petals, Rose, red Rose, The petals he threw away. And all the world derided you; Ah ! the world, how well it knew A rose will fade in a day.
# The Collected Poems of Dora Sigerson Shorter/A Rose Will Fade

From The Collected Poems of Dora Sigerson Shorter (1907).
A ROSE WILL FADE
You were always a dreamer. Rose, red Rose, As you swung on your perfumed spray, Swinging, and all the world was true, Swaying, what did it trouble you? A rose will fade in a day.
Why did you smile to his face, red Rose, As he whistled across your way? And all the world went mad for you. All the world it knelt to woo. A rose will bloom in a day.
I gather your petals, Rose, red Rose, The petals he threw away. And all the world derided you; Ah! the world, how well it knew A rose will fade in a day.
# Caroling Dusk/Fenton Johnson

FENTON JOHNSON
“I came into the world May 7, 1888. No notice was taken of the event save in immediate circles. I presume the world was too busy or preoccupied to note it. It happened in Chicago. I went to school and also college. My scholastic record never attained me any notoriety.
Taught school one year and repented. Having scribbled since the age of nine, had some plays produced on the stage of the old Pekin Theatre, Chicago, at the time I was nineteen. When I was twenty-four my first volume A Little Dreaming was published. Since then Visions of the Dusk (1915) and Songs of the Soil (1916) represent my own collections of my work. Also published a volume of short stories Tales of Darkest America and a group of essays on American politics For the Highest Good. Work in poetry appears in the following anthologies: The New Poetry (Monroe and Henderson), Victory (Braithwaite), Others (Kreymborg), The Chicago Anthology (Blanden), Anthology of Magazine Verse (Braithwaite), ​Page:Caroling Dusk.pdf/84
# Caroling Dusk/When I Die

WHEN I DIE
# The Faerie Queene (1590/1596)/Books 4 to 6 (1596)

THE SECOND
PART OF THE
FAERIE QVEENE.
Containing
THE FOVRTH,
FIFTH, AND
SIXTH BOOKES,
By Ed. Spenser.
Imprinted at London for VVilliam Ponsonby. 1596.
Books (not listed in original)
* Book IV
* Book V
* Book VI
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
# Krilof and His Fables/The Eagle and the Fowls

The Eagle and the Fowls.
Wishing to enjoy a bright day to the utmost, an Eagle soared into the upper regions of the air, and floated about in the birthplace of the thunderbolt. At length, having come down from those cloudy heights, the King of Birds settled on a kiln for drying corn, and there took breath. To be sure it was not a becoming perch for an eagle. But kings have their whims. Perhaps he wanted to do honour to the kiln, or else there was no object near, no oak, no granite rock, on which he could be seated as be­ came his rank. What his fancy may have been I know not, ​but only this, that he remained sitting there but a short time, and then flew across to another kiln.
Having seen that, a tufted brood-hen thus chattered to her gossip:
"Why are eagles so highly honoured? It can't be for their flight, my sweet neighbour. Why, upon my word, if I felt inclined, I also could fly across from kiln to kiln. We won't be such fools in future as to consider eagles of higher repute than ourselves. They haven't more feet or eyes than we have, and you yourself saw, this very moment, that they fly close to the ground, just like us fowls."
Tired of listening to this nonsense, the Eagle replied,
"There is something in what you say, but you 're not quite right. It sometimes happens that eagles stoop even below the level of barndoor fowls, but never that such fowls soar into the clouds."
# Krilof and His Fables/The False Accusation

The False Accusation.
There lived in the East a certain Brahmin, who, though fervently orthodox in his words, was not so in his way of life. Even among Brahmins there are hypo­crites: but that is beside the mark. This only is to the point, that he alone of all the brotherhood was a man of that kind. All the rest were men of holy lives, and—what was, above all things, distasteful to our friend—their chief was of an exceedingly strict character, so that no one could ever venture to break the rules.
But our Brahmin did not lose courage. A fast-day comes, but he meditates as to whether it may not be possible for him to obtain a secret indulgence for something luscious. Having laid his hands on an egg, and having waited till midnight, he lights a candle and sets to work to cook his egg above it. Steadily does he turn the egg above the flame, never takes his eyes off it, and already swallows it in an­ticipation. Meanwhile he thinks about his chief, chuckling to himself,
"You won't find me out, my long-bearded friend! This egg anyhow I shall eat with relish."
But at this moment the chief suddenly enters the Brahmin's ​cell, and, at the sight of such a sin, asks in a terrible voice what the Brahmin has to say for himself.
The proof is there before his eyes: it is too late to deny the fact.
"Forgive me my sin! holy father, forgive!" the Brahmin implores between his tears. "I cannot tell what led me into this temptation. Ah, yes! it was the accursed Evil One who put the idea into my head."
But at that moment a little demon cried out from behind the stove:
"What a shame it is to be always calumniating us! Why, I myself have just been taking a lesson from you; for, I assure you, this is the first time I ever saw how to cook eggs at a candle."
# Krilof and His Fables/The Good Fox

The Good Fox.
A Sportsman killed a redcap one spring. Would that the evil he wrought had ended with her life! But, no—after hers three more lives had to be lost. The sportsman had made orphans of her three little ones, poor creatures! Only just out of the shell, feeble and ignorant, they suffered from cold and hunger, calling in vain upon their dam with plaintive cry.
"How can one help grieving at the sight of these little ones, and whose heart does not ache for them?" Thus were the neighbouring birds addressed by a Fox, who was sitting on a bit of stone opposite the nest of the orphans. "Don't leave these young creatures unassisted, my dear friends. If you will only bring the poor little darlings a tiny grain apiece, If each of you will only add to their dear little nest ever so small a straw, you will thereby save their lives. And what is more holy than a good deed?
"О cuckoo dear! just see how thou art moulting! Would it not be as well for thee to allow thyself to be plucked a little, and to give thy feathers to garnish their little bed? Really, thou art now losing them uselessly.
​"O lark! suppose that, instead of turning and tumbling about high up in the air, thou wert sometimes to look for food in the corn-field and the meadow, and to share it with the orphans.
"О turtle-dove! thy young ones have now grown up; they are able to procure their own food now, so it is possible for thee to fly from thy own nest, and take their mother's place over these little ones, leaving God to watch over thy own offspring.
"О swallow! suppose thou wert to catch flies, so as to make the fare of the orphans a little more dainty.
"And thou, dear nightingale, thou knowest how all things feel the charm of thy voice. Why shouldst thou not lull the little ones to rest by thy sweet song, while the zephyr rocks them in their nest?
"By such kindness, I am convinced, ye would make up to them for their sad loss. Only listen to me—we will prove that there are kind hearts in the forest, and that——"
As the Fox was saying these words, all three of the poor little birds, prevented by their hunger from keeping still, fell down on the ground just in front of him.
What did their kind friend do? Gobbled them up imme­diately, without finishing his sermon!
[This fable bears a good deal of resemblance to Florian's "Renard qui prêche," which was translated by Dmitrief under the title of "The Preaching Fox." Kenevich thinks that it relates to the subscriptions which were organized in ​1814—the year in which it appeared—for the benefit of the families which had been ruined during the French invasion. Some of the persons who got up these subscriptions, or who wrote letters about them to the papers, were supposed to be ac­tuated by not quite disinterested motives.]
# Krilof and His Fables/The Horse and Its Rider

The Horse and Its Rider.
A certain Cavalier had so schooled his horse, that he could do whatever he liked with it. He scarcely made any use of the reins: the Horse obeyed his mere word.
"There's no use in bridling such horses," said its master one day. "Upon my word, I've hit on a capital idea!"
And riding out afield he unbridled the horse.
When it felt itself free, the horse at first only increased its pace a little, and, tossing its head and shaking its mane, it speeded with playful gait as if to amuse its rider.
But when it remarked how weak was now the power that used to control it, the mettlesome horse soon began to follow its own will. Its blood boiled, its eyes glowed. No longer listening to the voice of its rider, it whirled him along at full speed right across the open country.
In vain did our unfortunate rider attempt with trembling hands to throw the bridle over its head. The horse only became the fiercer, and away it tore, until at last it flung its rider far from its back. Then away, like a whirling storm­ wind, it rushed, blind to the light of heaven, not seeing where it went, until it fell headlong into a ravine, and was knocked to pieces.
​"My poor horse!" said its rider, when he heard of its death. "It was I who brought about thy misfortune. If I had not taken off thy bridle, I should certainly have been able to guide thee. Then thou wouldst not have thrown me, nor wouldst thou have died so pitiful a death!"
How alluring is liberty! But for a people it is no less destructive, unless reasonable bounds are set to it.
[It has been supposed that Krilof meant this fable to apply to the revolutionary agitation in Russia, which began to manifest itself after the war with Napoleon, and which went on increasing till its unfortunate outbreak in 1825. But it was written before that agitation commenced, the original MS. being dated May 12, 1814, and it is probable that Krilof, when he composed it, was thinking only of the French Revolution.
There is a poem by Derjavine called the Kolesnitsa, or "Chariot," to which this fable bears a strong likeness.]
# Krilof and His Fables/The Ape

The Ape.
A Peasant at the dawn of day went toiling over his bit of ground behind his plough. So hard did our peasant toil that the sweat poured off him like hail. Our Moujik was a thorough workman, and therefore everybody who went past called out to him, "Well done! Good luck to you!"
This made an Ape jealous. Praise is tempting: how can one help longing for it? So the Ape took it into his head to work, got hold of a log, and just did plague himself over it. The Ape's mouth becomes full of trouble. Now he lifts up the log, and now embraces it, first this way, then that; ​now he drags it along, now he rolls it about. The sweat runs off the poor creature in a stream. At last, groaning and gasping, he can scarcely draw his breath.
And yet, in spite of all this, he does not hear a soul give him an atom of praise. And no wonder, my dear! You take a world of pains, but what you do is utterly useless.
[This fablе is suspiciously like one of Sumarokof's, called "The Ploughman and the Monkey," in which the man gets praised, while the monkey, who is toiling away with a stone, gets nothing but a scolding, and cannot make out why.]
# Krilof and His Fables/The Eagle and the Mole

The Eagle and the Mole.
An Eagle and his mate flew into a deep forest, and de­termined to make it their permanent abode. So they chose an oak, lofty and wide-spreading, and began to build themselves a nest on the top of it, hoping there to rear their young in the summer.
A Mole, who heard about all this, plucked up courage enough to inform the Eagles that the oak was not a proper dwelling-place for them; that it was almost entirely rotten at the root, and was likely soon to fall, and that therefore the Eagles ought not to make their nest upon it.
But is it becoming that an Eagle should accept advice coming from a Mole in a hole? Where then would be the glory of an Eagle having such keen eyes? And how comes it that Moles dare to meddle in the affairs of the King of Birds?
So, saying very little to the Mole, whose counsel he de­spised, the Eagle set to work quickly—and the King soon got ready the new dwelling for the Queen.
All goes well, and now the Eagles have little ones. But what happens? One day, when at early dawn the Eagle is hastening back from the chase, bringing a rich breakfast to ​his family, as he drops down from the sky he sees—his oak has fallen, and has crushed beneath it his mate and his little ones!
"Wretched creature that I am!" he cries, anguish blotting out from him the light; "for my pride has Fate so terribly punished me, and because I gave no heed to wise counsel. But could one expect that wise counsel could possibly come from a miserable Mole?"
Then from its hole the Mole replies:
"Had not you despised me, you would have remembered that I burrow within the earth, and that, as I live among the roots, I can tell with certainty whether a tree be sound or no."
# Krilof and His Fables/The Pond and the River

The Pond and the River.
"How comes it," said to a River a neighbouring Pond, "that one never looks at you without find­ing your waters always in movement? Is it possible, sister dear, that you do not grow tired? Besides, I see that you are almost always supporting either heavily-laden ships or long lines of timber-rafts; I say nothing at present about boats and barges: their number is infinite! When will you have done with such a life? I should really dry up from vexation if mine were like it.
"But, in comparison with yours, how pleasant is my lot! It is true that I am not known to fame. I do not meander across a whole sheet of the map; no dulcimer player twangs out praises in my honour: all that is, in reality, mere non­ sense. But I, on my soft and slimy banks, repose in tranquil indulgence, like a fine lady on cushions of down. And not only have I no ships or rafts to fear, but I do not even know what the weight of a boat is. Nay, more, I think it a great event if a leaf, which the breeze has wafted to me, undulates on my waters. What equivalent could be offered for a life so free from cares? Left behind, unruffled by the winds from whatever quarter they may blow, I know no ​movement, but look on, as in a dream, at the world's anxieties, and philosophize the while."
"But, while philosophizing, do you bear in mind this law," replied the River, "that only by movement can water preserve its freshness? If I have become a great river, it has been because, spurning rest, I obey that law. Therefore is it that, year after year, I benefit by the abundance and purity of my waters, and gain honour and glory. It may be, too, that for ages to come I shall still flow on, when you will no longer exist even in memory, and all mention of you will have utterly come to an end."
The words of the River were fulfilled: to this day it still flows on. But the poor Pond, becoming every year less liquid, and more and more choked up with thick ooze, turned mouldy, produced a crop of sedge, and finally dried up.
# Krilof and His Fables/The Fire and the Diamond

The Fire and the Diamond.
Spreading from a spark into a conflagration, a Fire, in the dead of midnight, rushed with furious impetu­osity through a pile of buildings.
Meanwhile a Diamond, which had been lost in the uni­versal alarm, faintly glimmered through the dust of the road in which it lay.
"How thoroughly art thou, in spite of all thy play of light, annihilated in my presence!" said the Fire. "And how practised must be that sight which can distinguish thee, at a little distance, from either a bit of glass or a drop of water in which my light or that of the sun shines reflected! not to speak of how much damage is done to thee by any­ thing that falls upon thee—any trifle, a mere scrap of ribbon. How often, for instance, does a single hair which has wound itself about thee dim thy brilliance! Not so easily is my radiance to be eclipsed when I encompass a building in my wrath. See how I despise all the efforts people are making against me! How I devour with a crackling all that I en­counter! while my glare, playing upon the clouds, brings fear upon all the land around!"
"It is true that my light is really but a poor one ​compared with thine," answered the Diamond. "But I am harmless. None can accuse me of having injured any one, and to envy alone is my light distasteful. But thou shinest, thou flashest, only by means of that which destroys; there­ fore, see how all, uniting their whole strength, strive that thou mayest be extinguished as soon as possible. And the more furiously thou blazest, the quicker, perhaps, dost thou draw to thy end."
Meanwhile the people strove with all their might to put out the Fire. By the morning nothing was left of it but smoke and stench. But the Diamond was soon recovered, and it became the chief ornament of the royal crown.
# Adolf Hitler's Own Book Mein Kampf (My Battle)/Chapter 20

Chapter XX
Strong Man
Several groups that called themselves “racial” cropped up in 1918-1919 out of the natural force of events. By 1920 the Nazi party had slowly emerged as the victor among them. The honesty of the founders of the various parties was then demonstrated, in many cases, by their willingness to allow themselves to be either dissolved or incorporated into our party.
Especially is this true of Julius Streicher, who headed the German Socialist Party in Nuremberg; he led all his followers into the Nazi movement.
When great problems arise in the course of history, masses of people come to long for salvation, and so individuals begin to rise up to lead the way, or to attempt to. But one man is chosen by destiny for the task, although usually it takes a long time for it to be understood by the others that this is really the leader, when he first appears.
Hitler, and Only Hitler!
Yet an inevitable law of nature, no matter if only after centuries of struggle, finally allows the correct man to arrive in the position awaiting him.
This always has been and forever will be.
Therefore, it is not to be regretted when several or many people battle to lead the way to the same goal—the best will be recognized, and inevitably he will win.
Nothing that is great in this world is the result of coalitions—victories are always won by individuals.
Even if the policy of alliance leads to a victory, it can only be temporary, for it contains the germ of decay. Great revolutionary changes are conceivable only as the result of the titanic struggle of individual units.
The racial state will never be created by the compromising methods of a racial workers’ coalition, but only by the iron determination of a single movement that is willing to fight in defiance of everyone.
    (Hitler stubbornly refused any compromises, ousting from the Nazi party all who advocated coalition too strongly, during the years of the development of the movement. He jealously kept himself secure as the leader of the party itself, brooking no competitors.
    (Only when voting in common with the German National party insured victory in the election of March, 1933, did Hitler break this rule concerning party politics.)
# Adolf Hitler's Own Book Mein Kampf (My Battle)/Conclusion

Conclusion.
On November 9, 1923, in the fourth year of its life, the Nazi party was dissolved throughout the German Reich. To-day, in November, 1926, it is once more free in the Reich, stronger than ever before.
Persecutions of the movement and its leaders, together with slander, could not damage it. Its inherent right, the purity of its aims, and readiness of its followers for any sacrifice, have allowed it to emerge from suppression with new vigor.
If, in this world of parliamentary corruption, it busies itself more and more with the deepest meaning of its struggle and proves as a movement the true value of race and personality, it is certain by mathematical law one day to the victorious. In the same way, Germany will win her rightful position on this earth only if she is led and organized by the same principles.
A state which scrupulously preserves its purest blood in this age of race pollution must one day rule the world.
Let the believers in our movement hold this forever in their minds, in case the greatness of any sacrifice ever gives them pause to compare the price with the worth of the possible victory.
End.