OpenLLM-France/wikimedia huggingface dataset:
# Songs of the Workers (9th edition)/The Banner of Labor

THE BANNER OF LABOR.
(Tune: "The Star Spangled Banner.")
Oh, say, can you hear, coming near and more near, The call now resounding: "Come all ye who labor?" The Industrial band, throughout all the land Bid toilers remember each toiler his neighbor. Come, workers, unite! 'tis Humanity's fight. We call, you come forth in your manhood and might.
CHORUS:
And the BANNER OF LABOR will surely soon wave O'er the land that is free, from the master and slave. And the BANNER OF LABOR will surely soon wave O'er the land that is free, from the master and slave.
The blood and the lives of children and wives Are ground into dollars for parasites' pleasure; The children now slave, till they sink in their grave— That robbers may fatten and add to their treasure. Will you idly sit by, unheeding their cry? Arise! Be ye men! See, the battle draws nigh!
Long, long has the spoil of labor and toil Been wrung from the workers by parasite classes; While Poverty gaunt, Desolation and Want Have dwelt in the bowels of earth's toiling masses. Through bloodshed and tears, our day star appears, INDUSTRIAL UNION, the wage slave now cheers.
# Songs of the Workers (9th edition)/The Workers' Marseillaise

THE WORKERS' MARSEILLAISE.
Ye sons of toil, awake to glory! Hark, hark, what myriads bid you rise; Your children, wives and grandsires hoary— Behold their tears and hear their cries! Behold their tears and hear their cries! Shall hateful tyrants mischief breeding, With hireling hosts, a ruffian band— Affright and desolate the land, While peace and liberty lie bleeding?
CHORUS:
To arms! to arms! ye brave! Th' avenging sword unsheathe! March on, march on, all hearts resolved On Victory or Death.
With luxury and pride surrounded, The vile, insatiate despots dare, Their thirst for gold and power unbounded To mete and vend the light and air, To mete and vend the light and air, Like beasts of burden, would they load us, Like gods would bid their slaves adore, But Man is Man, and who is more? Then shall they longer lash and goad us?
O, Liberty! can man resign thee? Once having felt thy generous flame, Can dungeon's bolts and bars confine thee? Or whips, thy noble spirit tame? Or whips, thy noble spirit tame? Too long the world has wept bewailing. That Falsehood's dagger tyrants wield; But Freedom is our sword and shield; And all their arts are unavailing!
You starving member of the unemployed. Why starve? We have produced enough. The warehouses are overflowing with the things we need. WHY STARVE?
# Songs of the Workers (9th edition)/Should I Ever Be a Soldier

SHOULD I EVER BE A SOLDIER.
By Joe Hill.
(Tune : "Colleen Bawn.")
We're spending billions every year For guns and ammunition, "Our Army" and "our Navy" dear, To keep in good condition; While millions live in misery And millions died before us, Don't sing "My Country 'tis of thee," But sing this little chorus.
CHORUS:
Should I ever be a soldier, 'Neath the Red Flag I would fight; Should the gun I ever shoulder, It's to crush the tyrant's might. Join the army of the toilers, Men and women fall in line, Wage slaves of the world! Arouse! Do your duty for the cause, For Land and Liberty.
And many a maiden, pure and fair, Her love and pride must offer On Mammon's altar in despair, To fill the master's coffer, The gold that pays the mighty fleet, From tender youth he squeezes, While brawny men must walk the street And face the wintry breezes.
Why do they mount their gatling gun A thousand miles from ocean, Where hostile fleet could never run— Ain't that a funny notion? If you don't know the reason why Just strike for better wages, And then, my friends—if you don't die— You'll sing this song for ages.
# Songs of the Workers (9th edition)/Harvest War Song

HARVEST WAR SONG.
By Pat Brennan
(Tune: "Tipperary.")
We are coming home, John Farmer; we are coming back to stay. For nigh on fifty years or more, we've gathered up your hay. We have slept out in your hayfields, we have heard your morning shout; We've heard you wondering, where in hell's them pesky go-abouts?
CHORUS:
It's a long way, now understand me; it's a long way to town; It's a long way across the prairie, and to hell with Farmer John. Up goes machine or wages, and the hours must come down; For we're out for a winter's stake this summer, and we want no scabs around.
You've paid the going wages, that's what kept us on the bum, You say you've done your duty, you chin-whiskered son of a gun. We have sent your kids to college, but still you must rave and shout, And call us tramps and hoboes, and pesky go-abouts.
But now the wintry breezes are a-shaking our poor frames, And the long drawn days of hunger, try to drive us boes insane. It is driving us to action—we are organized today; Us pesky tramps and hoboes, are coming back to stay.
Every worker should have an ambition to live to be a healthy old man or woman and hear the whistle blow for the bosses to go to work.
# Songs of the Workers (9th edition)/What We Want

WHAT WE WANT.
By Joe Hill.
(Tune: "Rainbow.")
We want all the workers in the world to organize Into a great big union grand And when we all united stand The world for workers we'll demand If the working class could only see and realize What mighty power labor has Then the exploiting master class It would soon fade away.
CHORUS:
Come all ye toilers that work for wages, Come from every land, Join the fighting band, In one union grand, Then for the workers we'll make upon this earth a paradise When the slaves get wise and organize.
We want the sailor and the tailor and the lumberjacks, And all the cooks and laundry girls, We want the guy that dives for pearls, The pretty maid that's making curls, And the baker and staker and the chimneysweep We want the man that's slinging hash, The child that works for little cash In one union grand.
We want the tinner and the skinner and the chambermaid, We want the man that spikes on soles, We want the man that's digging holes, We want the man that's climbing poles, And the trucker and the mucker and the hired man And all the factory girls and clerks, Yes, we want every one that works, In one union grand.
# Songs of the Workers (9th edition)/Workingmen, Unite

WORKINGMEN, UNITE!
By E. S. Nelson.
(Tune: "Red Wing.")
Conditions they are bad, And some of you are sad; You cannot see your enemy, The class that lives in luxury,— You workingmen are poor,— Will be forevermore,— As long as you permit the few To guide your destiny.
CHORUS:
Shall we still be slaves and work for wages? It is outrageous—has been for ages; This earth by right belongs to toilers, And not to spoilers of liberty.
The master class is small, But they have lots of "gall." When we unite to gain our right, If they resist we'll use our might; There is no middle ground This fight must be one round To victory, for liberty, Our class is marching on!
Workingmen, unite! We must put up a fight, To make us free from slavery And capitalistic tyranny; This fight is not in vain, We've got a world to gain. Will you be a fool, a capitalist tool? And serve your enemy?
Our Country? The country of millions of hunted, homeless, hungry slaves! The country of Colorado, Louisiana, Texas, Michigan, Pennsylvania, West Virginia and all the other innumerable scenes of labor's shambles? Not OUR country.
# Songs of the Workers (9th edition)/Scissor Bill

SCISSOR BILL.
By Joe Hill.
(Tune: "Steamboat Bill")
You may ramble 'round the country anywhere you will, You'll always run across that same old Scissor Bill. He's found upon the desert, he is on the hill, He's found in every mining camp and lumber mill. He looks just like a human, he can eat and walk, But you will find he isn't, when he starts to talk. He'll say, "This is my country," with an honest face, While all the cops they chase him out of every place.
CHORUS:
Scissor Bill, he is a little dippy, Scissor Bill, he has a funny face. Scissor Bin should drown in Mississippi, He is the missing link that Darwin tried to trace.
And Scissor Bill he couldn't live without the booze, He sits around all day and spits tobacco juice. He takes a deck of cards and tries to beat the Chink! Yes, Bill would be a smart guy if he only could think. And Scissor Bill he says: "This country must be freed From Niggers, Japs and Dutchmen and the gol durn Swede." He says that every cop would be a native son If it wasn't for the Irishman, the sonna fur gun.
CHORUS:
Scissor Bill, the "foreigners" is cussin', Scissor Bill, he says: "I hate a Coon"; Scissor Bill is down on everybody, The Hottentots, the bushmen and the man in the moon.
Don't try to talk your union dope to Scissor Bill, He says he never organized and never will. He always will be satisfied until he's dead, With coffee and a doughnut and a lousy old bed. And Bill, he says he gets rewarded thousand fold, When he gets up to Heaven on the streets of gold. But I don't care who knows it, and right here I'll tell, If Scissor Bill is goin' to Heaven, I'll go to Hell.
CHORUS:
Scissor Bill, he wouldn't join the union, Sissor Bill, he says, "Not me, by Heck!" Scissor Bill gets his reward in Heaven, Oh! sure. He'll get it, but he'll get it in the neck.
# Songs of the Workers (9th edition)/A Dream

A DREAM
By Richard Brazier.
(Tune: "The Holy City.")
One day as I lay dreaming, this vision came to me: I saw an army streaming singing of liberty; I marked these toilers passing by, I listened to their cry, It was a triumphant anthem—an anthem filled with joy; It was a triumphant anthem—an anthem filled with joy.
CHORUS:
One union, industrial union; Workers of the world unite, To make us free from slavery And gain each man his right.
I saw the ruling classes watching this grand array Of marching, toiling masses passing on their way; With pallid cheeks and trembling limbs they gazed upon this throng, And ever as they marched along the workers sang the song; And ever as they marched along the workers sang the song:
Methought I heard the workers call to that ruling band— Come into our ranks, ye shirkers, for we now rule this land. Work or starve, the workers said, for you must earn your bread. Then into their ranks came the masters and joined the workers' song; Then into their ranks came the masters and joined the workers' song.
All workers, "The Army of Production," in One Big Union, regardless of age, creed, color or sex, is invincible.
Labor is entitled to all it produces. An injury to one is an injury to all.
# Songs of the Workers (9th edition)/The Tramp

THE TRAMP.
By Joe Hill.
(Tune: "Tramp, Tramp, Tramp, the Boys are Marching.")
If you all will shut your trap, I will tell you 'bout a chap, That was broke and up against it, too, for fair; He was not the kind that shirk, He was looking hard for work, But he heard the same old story everywhere.
CHORUS:
Tramp, tramp, tramp, keep on a-tramping, Nothing doing here for you; If I catch you 'round again, You will wear the ball and chain, Keep on tramping, that's the best thing you can do.
He walked up and down the street, 'Till the shoes fell off his feet. In a house he spied a lady cooking stew, And he said, "How do you do, May I chop some wood for you?" What the lady told him made him feel so blue.
CHORUS:
'Cross the street a sign he read, "Work for Jesus," so it said, And he said, "Here is my chance, I'll surely try," And he kneeled upon the floor, 'Till his knees got rather sore. But at eating-time he heard the preacher cry—
CHORUS:
Down the street he met a cop. And the Copper made him stop, And he asked him, "When did you blow into town? Come with me up to the judge." But the judge he said, "Oh fudge, Bums that have no money needn't come around."
CHORUS:
Finally came that happy day When his life did pass away, He was sure he'd go to heaven when he died, When he reached the pearly gate, Santa Peter, mean old skate, Slammed the gate right in his face and loudly cried:
# Songs of the Workers (9th edition)/We Come

WE COME.
(Air: "Toreador Song.")
Workers, the World! The Masters call in vain. Though ground down pitiless, We rise again; And to the call of millions crying from the depths, We shout our message to man— And from the hearts of all the land Comes loud and clear The answering call, "We Come."
Workers, be brave; Through nights of toil and pain, Oppression and slavery, Priest, gun and chain, Law and the bribings of a cruel, despotic class, We march and sing our refrain— Singing hopes of a million slaves: "Workers, unite, Unite."
Workers, be strong; They offer bribes in vain, Promise and trick us, Keep us enchained; But to humanity's call we answering come, Chanting our far flung refrain— And from the hearts of all the land Comes loud and clear The answer to us, Workers, unite, "We Come."
Workers, the World! Though Masters call in vain, Grind us down pitiless, We'll rise again. , And to the call of millions crying from the depths, We fling our challenge for right— And from the hearts of all the land Comes loud and clear The answering call, "We Come!"
# Five Excellent New Songs (c. 1805, "The Rakish Sailor")

Five Excellent
New Songs,
The Rakiſh Sailor.
Bonapart’s Ramble,
Yougal Harbour,
The Roving Bachelor,
The Maid’s Complaint.
Edinburgh: printed by J. Morren,
Poems:
* The Rakish Sailor
* Bonaparte's Ramble
* Yougal Harbour
* The Roving Bachelor
* The Fair Maid's Complaint for her Sweetheart
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
# Five Excellent New Songs (c. 1805, "The Rakish Sailor")/The Rakish Sailor

The Rakiſh Sailor
When I was a rakiſh young fellow, I never took care in my life, I have travelled this country all over and in every town a freſh wife; But give me the girl that will love me, and bleſs me for this happy life; She’ll dance unto me a French caper, and a country girl for my wife. I have been in ſtormy cold weather, I have been in both hot and cold, I have ſailed the ocean all over, venturing my life for gold, But I wiſh that the wars ware all over, and I myſelf on the ſhore; God bleſs me for ever and ever, if I’ll go to the ſeas any more.
I’ll ſend for my friends and relations, I’ll ſend for them every one, And its all for to make them all welcom I’ll ſend for a cask of good rum, I’ll ſend for a cask of good rum boys, three or four barrels of beer, And it’s all for to welcome the laſſes, that will meet me at Sanderland fair,
It’s when I am dead and buried, O there is an end of my life, Never you ly a ſighing or crying, but do a good turn to my wife.
Never you ly a ſighing or crying; there’s one ſingle favour I crave, Wrap me up in my tarpouling jacket, Both fiddle and dance to my grave.
I’ll have four young ſailors to carry me, let them all be terrible drunk, All along by the way as they ramble, let them all fall with ray trunk; Let them be a laughing and jeering, like men that are all going mad, Let them drink a glaſs over my coffin, ſaying there lies a true hearted lad.
# Five Excellent New Songs (c. 1805, "The Rakish Sailor")/Bonaparte's Ramble

Bonaparte’s Ramble.
That Bonaparte was comin’ o’er, it was the general action, But he’s diſmantled all his fleet, he’s fear’d to take the ocean. We’re a’ born Britiſh boy, we’re a’ born free, We’re a’ born Britiſh boys, we’ll fight for liberty.
Yon Corſican with ſwelling words, he thinks to dare this nation, He coo’d the Dutch, the Swiſs, and Pope, but Britons keep your ſtaions. We’re a’ born &c
I laugh when I think on the Dutch, how they are ſelf deceived;
They rotten-hearted prov’d to us, the double rogue believed. We’re a’ born, &c.
See how the tyrant whips them up, they rue their mean devotion, They’ve loſt the German’s on the land, and Britons on the ocean. We’re a’ born, &c.
The Swiſs too ſmarts beneath his rod, and Italy is wrecked. While all theſe countries by his ſlaves, are plunder’d and debauched, We’re a’ born, &c.
O march, ye Britiſh heroes, then, and give them no ceſſation, Retake Hanover and make France, reſtore peace to our nation. We’re a’ born, &c.
Brave Abercrombie cut off all, the invincibles completely, And bold Suwaraw made them fly, from all the coaſts of It’ly. We’re a‘ born Britiſh boys, we‘re a‘ born free, We‘re a‘ brave Britiſh boys, we‘ll fight for liberty.
# Five Excellent New Songs (c. 1805, "The Rakish Sailor")/Yougal Harbour

Yougal Harbour.
’T’a being on my rambles on a ſummers‘ morning, Early as the day was dawning. And Sol appear’d in his pomp and glory, I took my way through a pleaſant lawn, The pinks and the roſes were ſweetly blowing, And linets warbling in each ſhade, I being alarmed by a killing charmer, Near Yougal Harbour I met this maid.
Her aſpect pleaſing her ſmiles engaging, I thought ſhe really would attract my mind As I view’d each feature, I thought on the fair That in Rathangan I had left behind; Her glancing eyes being moſt ſurpriſing, Oh! I think young man I ſaw you before Here in your abſence in grief I languiſh, My dear you’re welcome to me once more
You know kind ſir that you once deceived, When of me you had got your will, You’re now returned, I will ceaſe to mourn, Your promiſe now you do fulfill; And a daring boy for you I’m rearing, As in your travels you have ever ſeen, So if you agree and come home with me, We’ll all live happy in Capperquin.
Oh! not fair maiden, I muſt tell you plainly Here to remain I will not agree, It was your parents they did diſdain me, Which made me firſt quit this country. Do you remember that day we ſported, By yon ſhady arbour on a pleaſant green, It was there you told me I ſhould get your portion. With a handſome farm near Capperquin.
But when your father wou’d not receive me, It is to Leinſter I did repair, And then fell a courting another fair one, In ſweet Rathangan nigh to Kildare; It is to her I‘ll go and leave off roving, As her favours I’m in hopes to win, And ever more will her adore, So farewell Nancy of Capperquin.
# Five Excellent New Songs (c. 1805, "The Rakish Sailor")/The Roving Bachelor

The Roving Bachelor.
I am a roving bachelor, and has been all my life, And now I do intend for to go and ſeek a wife
Such a wife as I want, is not for to be found, And ſuch a wife‘s I want, is not above the ground.
It‘s if I marry an old one I‘m ſure that ſhe will fade, And if I marry a young one, ſhe’ll kill me with her pride;
It‘s if I marry a tall one, ſhe‘ll crack me on the crown, And if I marry a little one, they pull the young men down.
It‘s if I marry a pretty one, a cuckold I will be, And if I marry an ugly one, the boys will laugh at me.
One night as I lay on my bed ſtrange things there came to paſs, Who did I ſee at my bed-ſide, but a handſome pretty laſs.
The firſt queſtion I aſked her, if that ſhe was a maid, The anſwer that ſhe gave to me, I was once what you ſaid.
The next queſtion I aſked her, if ſhe was one juſt now, The anſwer that ſhe gave to me, I am ſure I am one for you.
The next queſtion that I aſked her, if that ſhe would take a man, The anſwer that ſhe made to me, It‘s only when I can
The next queſtion that I asked her,
if along with me ſhe would go, The anſwer that ſhe gave to me, what farther would you know.
Green it is a pretty colour, before it gets a dip, And he that gets another man‘s wife, is ſure to get the nip.
# Five Excellent New Songs (c. 1805, "The Rakish Sailor")/The Fair Maid's Complaint for her Sweetheart

The Fair Maid’s Complaint for her Sweetheart.
Abroad as I was walking for my recreation And thro’ the green paſtuer I careleſsly ſtray’d I head a young damſel make ſad lamentation, Crying Jamie is ſlain in the wars I’m afraid. I ſtood ſtill amazed and round me I gazed, At laſt in an arbour I ſaw the fair maid, Her cheeks were like roſes in her hands were ſweet poſies And ſhe cry’d, Jamie is ſlain in the wars I’m afraid. The ſweet little thruſhes, ſung in the green buſhes, The warbler all ſeemed to mourn for the maid. Her ſong was concerning young Jamie her darling, Crying Jamie is ſlain in the wars I’m afraid. Diſtreſs on the nation and great tribulation, This war has brought on us, cried the fair maid, Young maids are bewailing and widows complaining, Many thouſands are ſlain in the wars I’m afraid My heart it did bleed for to ſee death upon her, The woodlarks and doves ſeem’d to drop for the maid, She languiſh‘d and died, ſaid I’ll be no mans bride, For Jamie is ſlain in the wars I’m afraid But Jamie return’d, with love his heart burn’d And hearing young Nancy was laid in grave, This young man fell ſick and died in a week, Crying Oh! that I never had left the fair maid. May ſucceſs attend every friend on the ocean, That parents and wives may be bleſt with their own, That peace with all nations, may ſoon be concluded, And grant every ſoldier my ſafely return.
Finis.
# Patronymica Cornu-Britannica

Rowsa nebaz, ha rowsa da. Cornish Proverb.
LONDON: LONGMANS, GREEN, READER, AND DYER. 1870.
PRINTED BY CHARLES JONES, WEST HARDING STREET.
Contents (not listed in original)
PrefaceList of Works Consulted
A B C D E F G H I J K L M N P Q R S T U V W Y Z
Christian NamesAdvertisement
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
# Pragmatism: A New Name for Some Old Ways of Thinking

PRAGMATISM
A NEW NAME FOR SOME OLD WAYS OF THINKING
POPULAR LECTURES ON PHILOSOPHY BY
WILLIAM JAMES
NEW IMPRESSION
LONGMANS, GREEN AND CO.
55 FIFTH AVENUE, NEW YORK
39 PATERNOSTER ROW, LONDON
TORONTO BOMBAY CALCUTTA MADRAS
1922
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
# Armageddon

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.
* "Armageddon," in Easton's Bible Dictionary (1897)
* "Armageddon," in Encyclopædia Britannica (11th ed., 1911)
* “Armageddon,” a poem by Georgia Douglas Camp Johnson
* “Armageddon,” a short story by A. A. Milne
* “Armageddon,” a hymn tune by Luise Reichardt
# Easton's Bible Dictionary (1897)/Armageddon

* A
* B
* C
* D
* E
* F
* G
* H
* I
* J
* K
* L
* M
* N
* O
* P
* Q
* R
* S
* T
* U
* V
* W
* Y
* Z
* Gen
* Ex
* Lev
* Num
* Dt
* Jos
* Jdg
* Ru
* 1-2 Sam
* 1-2 Ki
* 1-2 Chr
* Ezra
* Neh
* Est
* Psm
* Prv
* Job
* Song
* Ecc
* Isa
* Jer
* Lam
* Ezek
* Dan
* Hos
* Joel
* Am
* Ob
* Jnh
* Mic
* Nah
* Habk
* Zeph
* Hag
* Zech
* Mal
* Mt
* Mk
* Lk
* Jn
* Act
* Rom
* 1Cor
* 2Cor
* Gal
* Eph
* Philp
* Col
* 1-2Thes
* 1Tim
* 2Tim
* Titus
* Phim
* Hebr
* Jam
* 1Pet
* 2Pet
* 1Jn
* 2Jn
* 3Jn
* Ju
* Rev
Armageddon Occurs only in Rev. 16:16 (R.V., "Har-Magedon"), as symbolically designating the place where the "battle of that great day of God Almighty" (ver. 14) shall be fought. The word properly means the "mount of Megiddo." It is the scene of the final conflict between Christ and Antichrist. The idea of such a scene was suggested by the Old Testament great battle-field, the plain of Esdraelon (q.v.).