OpenLLM-France/wikimedia huggingface dataset:
# The Black-Bird Songster/The Yorkshire Irishman

SONGS.
THE YORKSHIRE IRISHMAN.
My father was once a great merchant, As any in Ireland is found; But faith! he could ne'er save a shilling, Though tatoes he sold by the pound. So says he to my mother one night, To England suppose you and I go; And the very next day by moonlight They took leave of the county Sligo Sing, fal de ral lal de ral la fal la de, &c.
That the land is all covered with water, 'Twixt England and Ireland you'll own, And single misfortunes, they say, To an Irishman ne'er came alone: So my father, poor man, was first drowned, Then shipwreck'd in sailing from Cork; But my mother she got safe to land, And a whisky shop opened in York. Sing, fal de ral, &c.
Just a year after father was dead, One night about five in the morn, An odd accident happen'd to me, For 'twas then that myself was first born: ​All this I've been told by my mammy, And surely she'll not tell a wrong; But I don't remember nought of it, Caze it happen'd when I were quite young. Sing, fal de ral, &c.
On the very same day the next year, For so ran the story of mother, Tho same accident happened again, But not to me, then, that were brother So 'twas settled by old Father Luke, Who dissolv'd all our family sins,
As wo both were born on the same day, That we sartainly must have been twins. Sing, fal do ral, &c.
'Twas agreed I should not go to school, As learning I never should want; Nor would they e'en teach me to read, For my genius they said, it would cramp. Now this genius of mine whero it lay, Do but listen a while and you'll hear:— 'Twas in drawing—not landscapes and pictures, No! mine were for drawing of beer. Sing, fal de ral, do.
Some with only one genius are blest, But I it appears had got two; For when I had drawn off some beer, I'd a genius for drinking it too. At last I was drawn up to town, Without in my pocket a farden; ​But since I've earned many a crown, By the shop here in sweet Common garden. Sing, fal de ral, &c.
Now the end of my song's drawing near, I'll tell ye, but that's nothing new; Now all my ambition's to try, And do what I can to draw you; In which, if I do but succeed, And my efforts beguile you of pain; I entreat you'll not wait to be asked, To come often and see me again.
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 Black-bird/De'il tak the Wars

De’il tak the Wars.
# The Black-Bird Songster/They're a' Teasing Me

THEY'RE A' TEASING ME.
O wha is he I loo sae weel? Wha was my heart an' a', O wha is he? 'tis sair to tell He's o'er the seas awa', There's Charlie ho's a sodger lad, And Davie blythe is he, And Willie in his tartan plaid, They’re a' teasing me.
O they're a' tease teasing, They're a' teasing me. They're a' tease teasing, O they're a teasing me.
There's Carl the chief o' Daftne glen, And he has land and store, With flow'ry mead, and shady fen, And siller e'er and o'er. “Quoth he, sweet lass, I'll marry thee (Yestreen in yonder shaw,) And thou my ain true bride shall be, And Queen o' Daftne ha!" O they're a' tease, &c.
But which my Jamie comes again, Young Carl will then descry, That siller is but empty gain, To hearts nae gowd can buy. My Jamie's brave, my Jamie's braw, My Jamie's a' to me, And tho' his siller store be sma' Yet his I'll only be. For they're a' tease, &c.
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 Complete Works of Swami Vivekananda/Volume 6/Epistles - Second Series/CXXI Mary

CXXI
RAMNAD,
30th Jan., 1897.
MY DEAR MARY,
Things are turning out most curiously for me. From Colombo in Ceylon, where I landed, to Ramnad, the nearly southernmost point of the Indian continent where I am just now as the guest of the Raja of Ramnad, my journey has been a huge procession — crowds of people, illuminations, addresses, etc., etc. A monument forty feet high is being built on the spot where I landed. The Raja of Ramnad has presented his address to "His most Holiness" in a huge casket of solid gold beautifully worked. Madras and Calcutta are on the tiptoe of expectation as if the whole nation is rising to honour me. So you see, Mary, I am on the very height of my destiny, yet the mind turns to quietness and peace, to the days we had in Chicago, of rest, of peace, and love; and that is why I write just now, and may this find you all in health and peace! I wrote a letter to my people from London to receive Dr. Barrows kindly. They accorded him a big reception, but it was not my fault that he could not make any impression there. The Calcutta people are a hard-headed lot! Now Barrows thinks a world of me, I hear! Such is the world.
With all love to mother, father, and you all,
I remain, yours affly.,
VIVEKANANDA.
# The Complete Works of Swami Vivekananda/Volume 6/Epistles - Second Series/CXXVI Miss Noble

CXXVI
ALMORA,
3rd June, 1897.
DEAR MISS NOBLE,
. . . As for myself I am quite content. I have roused a good many of our people, and that was all I wanted. Let things have their course and Karma its sway. I have no bonds here below. I have seen life, and it is all self — life is for self, love for self, honour for self, everything for self. I look back and scarcely find any action I have done for self — even my wicked deeds were not for self. So I am content; not that I feel I have done anything specially good or great, but the world is so little, life so mean a thing, existence so, so servile — that I wonder and smile that human beings, rational souls, should be running after this self — so mean and detestable a prize.
This is the truth. We are caught in a trap, and the sooner one gets out, the better for one. I have seen the truth — let the body float up or down, who cares?
It is a beautiful mountain park I am living in now. On the north, extending almost all along the horizon, are peak after peak of the snow-clad Himalayas — forests abounding. It is not cold here, neither very warm; the evenings and mornings are simply delicious. I should like to be here this summer, and when the rains set in, I go down to the plains to work.
I was born for the life of a scholar — retired, quiet, poring over my books. But the Mother dispenses otherwise — yet the tendency is there.
Yours etc.,
VIVEKANANDA.
# The Complete Works of Swami Vivekananda/Volume 6/Epistles - Second Series/CXXV Shuddhananda

CXXV
(Translated from Sanskrit)
ALMORA,
1st June, 1897.
DEAR SHUDDHANANDA,
Glad to know from your letter that all are doing well there, and to go through the news in detail. I too am in better health; the rest you will know from Dr. Shashi Bhushan. Let the teaching go on for the present in the method revised by Brahmananda, and if any changes ar needed in future, have them done. But it should never be lost sight of that this must be done with the consent of all.
I am now living in a garden belonging to a merchant situated a little to the north of Almora. Before me are the snow-peaks of the Himalayas looking, in the reflection of the sun, like a mass of silver, a delight to the heart. By taking free air, regular diet, and plenty of exercise, I have grown strong and healthy in body. But I hear the Yogananda is very ill. I am inviting him to come here But then, he fears the mountain air and water. I wrote to him today, saying, "Stay in this garden for some day' and if you find your illness shows no improvement, you may go to Calcutta." He will do as he pleases.
At Almora, every evening Achyutananda gathers the people together and reads to them the Gita and other Shâstras. Many residents of the town, as also soldiers from the cantonment, come there daily. I learn also that he is appreciated by all.
The Bengali interpretation that you have given of the Shloka interpretation in question is this: "When (the land) is flooded with water, what is the use of drinking water?" If the law of nature be such that when a land is flooded with water, drinking it is useless, that through certain air passages or through any other recondite way people's thirst may be allayed, then only can this novel interpretation be relevant, otherwise not. It is Shankara whom you should follow. Or you may explain it in this way: As, even when whole tracts are flooded with water, small pools are also of great use to the thirsty (that is to say, just a little water suffices him, and he says, as it were, "Let the vast sheet of water be, even a little of water will satisfy my object."), of identical use are the whole Vedas to a learned Brahmin. As even when the land is overflooded, one's concern lies in drinking the water and no more, so in all the Vedas illumination alone is the concern.
Here is another interpretation which hits better the meaning the author wishes to convey: Even when the land is overflooded, it is only that water which is drinkable and salutary, that people seek for, and no other kind. There are various kinds of water, which differ in quality and properties — even though the land be flooded over — according to the differences in property of their substratum, the soil. Likewise a skilful Brahmin, too, will, for the quenching of the worldly thirst, choose from that sea of words known as the Vedas, which is flooded over with diverse courses of knowledge, that which alone will be of potence to lead to liberation. And it is the knowledge of the Brahman which will do this.
With blessing and good wishes.
Yours,
VIVEKANANDA.
# The Complete Works of Swami Vivekananda/Volume 6/Epistles - Second Series/CXV Dear—

CXV
(Translated from Bengali)
C/O E. T STURDY, ESQ.,
HIGH VIEW, CAVERSHAM, READING
1896.
DEAR—
... Can anything be done unless everybody exerts himself to his utmost? "उद्योगिनं पुरुषसिंहमुपैति लक्ष्मीः" etc.— "It is the man of action, the lion-heart, that the Goddess of Wealth resorts to." No need of looking behind. FORWARD! We want infinite energy, infinite zeal, infinite courage, and infinite patience, then only will great things be achieved. . . .
Yours affectionately,
VIVEKANANDA.
# The Complete Works of Swami Vivekananda/Volume 6/Epistles - Second Series/CXXIX Rakhal

CXXIX
(Translated from Bengali)
ALMORA,
20th June, 1897.
DEAR RAKHAL,
Glad to learn that you are better in health than before. Well, it is seldom that Brother Yogen reports the bare truths, so do not at all be anxious to hear them. I am all right now, with plenty of muscular strength, and no thirst. ... The liver, too, acts well. I am not certain as to what effects Shashi (Babu)'s medicine had. So I have stopped using it. I am having plenty of mangoes. I am getting exceptionally adept in riding, and do not feel the least pain or exhaustion even after a run of twenty or thirty miles at a stretch. Milk I have altogether stopped for fear of corpulence.
Yesterday I came to Almora, and shall not go any more to the garden. Henceforth I am to have three meals a day in the English fashion, as Miss Müller's guest. . . .
Shuddhananda writes to say that they are going on with Ruddock's Practice of Medicine or something of that sort. What nonsense do you mean by having such things taught in the class? A set of common apparatus for physics and another for chemistry, an ordinary telescope and a microscope — all these can be had for Rupees 150 to 200. Shashi Babu may give a lecture on practical chemistry once a week, and Hariprasanna on physics etc. And buy all the good scientific books that you can have in Bengali, and have them read.
Yours affectionately,
VIVEKANANDA.
# The Complete Works of Swami Vivekananda/Volume 6/Epistles - Second Series/CXXII Mrs. Bull

CXXII
ALAMBAZAR MATH, CALCUTTA,
25th Feb., 1897.
DEAR MRS. BULL,
Saradananda sends £20 to be placed in the famine relief in India. But as there is famine in his own home, I thought it best to relieve that first, as the old proverb says. So it has been employed accordingly.
I have not a moment to die as they stay, what with processions and tomtomings and various other methods of reception all over the country; I am almost dead. As soon as the Birthday is over I will fly off to the hills. I received an address from the Cambridge Conference as well as one from the Brooklyn Ethical Association. One from the Vedanta Association of New York, as mentioned in Dr. Janes's letter, has not yet arrived.
Also there is a letter from Dr. Janes suggesting work along the line of your conference, here in India. It is almost impossible for me to pay any attention to these things. I am so, so tired. I do not know whether I would live even six months more or not, unless I have some rest.
Now I have to start two centres, one in Madras, the other in Calcutta. The Madras people are deeper and more sincere, and, I am sure, will be able to collect funds from Madras itself. The Calcutta people are mostly enthusiastic (I mean the aristocracy) through patriotism, and their sympathy would never materialise. On the other hand, the country is full of persons, jealous and pitiless, who would leave no stones unturned to pull my work to pieces.
But as you know well, the more the opposition, the more the demon in me is roused. My duty would not be complete if I die without starting the two places, one for the Sannyasins, the other for the women.
I have already £500 from England about, £500 from Mr. Sturdy, and if your money be added to it, I am sure I will be able to start the two. I think, therefore, you ought to send the money as soon as possible. The safest way is to put the money in a bank in America in your and my name jointly, so that either of us may draw it. In case I die before the money is employed, you will be able to draw it all and put it to the use I wanted. So that, in case of my death, none of my people would be able to meddle with it. The English money has been put in the bank in the same position in the joint names of Mr. Sturdy and myself.
With love to Saradananda and eternal love and gratitude to yourself,
Yours etc.,
VIVEKANANDA.
# The Complete Works of Swami Vivekananda/Volume 6/Epistles - Second Series/CXXVIII Akhandananda

CXXVIII
(Translated from Bengali)
ALMORA,
15th June, 1897.
MY DEAR AKHANDANANDA,
I am getting detailed reports of you and getting more and more delighted. It is that sort of work which can conquer the world. What do differences of sect and opinion matter? Bravo! Accept a hundred thousand embraces and blessings from me. Work, work, work — I care for nothing else. Work, work, work, even unto death! Those that are weak must make themselves great workers, great heroes — never mind money, it will drop from the heavens. Let them whose gifts you will accept, give in their own name if they like, no harm. Whose name, and what is it worth? Who cares for name? Off with it! If in the attempt to carry morsels of food to starving mouths, name and possession and all be doomed even — अहो भाग्यमहो भाग्यम् —thrice blessed art thou! It is the heart, the heart that conquers, not the brain. Books and learning, Yoga and meditation and illumination — all are but dust compared with love. It is love that gives you the supernatural powers, love that gives you Bhakti, love that gives illumination, and love, again, that reads to emancipation. This indeed is worship, worship of the Lord in the human tabernacle, " नेदं यदिदमुपासते — not this that people worship". (That is things other than God.) This is but the beginning, and unless we spread over the whole of India, nay, the whole earth, in that way, where lies the greatness of our Lord!
Let people see whether or not the touch of our Lord's feet confers divinity on man! It is this that is called liberation-in-life — when the last trace of egoism and selfishness is gone. Well done! Glory to the Lord! Gradually try to spread. If you can, go to Calcutta, and raise a fund with the help of another band of boys; set one or two of them to work at some place, and begin somewhere else. Spread in that way, and go on inspecting them. You will see that the work will gradually become permanent, and spread of religion and education will follow as a matter of course. I have given particular instructions to them in Calcutta. Do that kind of work, and I shall carry you on my shoulders — bravo! You will see that by degrees every district will become a centre — and that a permanent one. I am soon going down to the plains. I am a fighter, and shall die in the battlefield. Does it behave me to sit up here like a zenana lady?
Yours with all love,
VIVEKANANDA.
# The Complete Works of Swami Vivekananda/Volume 6/Epistles - Second Series/CXXVII Rakhal

CXXVII
(Translated from Bengali)
ALMORA,
14th June, 1897.
DEAR RAKHAL,
I am wholly in sympathy with the subject-matter of the letter of Charu that you have sent me.
In the proposed Address to the Queen-Empress the following points should be noted:
1. That it must be free from exaggeration, in other words, statements to the effect that she is God's regent and so forth, which are so common to us natives.
2. That all religions having been protected during her reign, we have been able fearlessly to preach our Vedantic doctrines both in India and England.
3. Her kindness towards the Indian poor — as, for instance, her inspiring the English to unique acts of charity by contributing herself to the cause of famine-relief.
4. Prayer for her long life and for the continual growth of happiness and prosperity among the people of her dominions.
Have this written in correct English and send it to me at Almora, and I shall sign it and send it to Simla. Let me know to whom it should be addressed at Simla.
Yours affectionately,
VIVEKANANDA.
PS. Let Shuddhananda preserve a copy of the weekly letters that he writes to me from the Math.
V.
# The Complete Poetical Works of Percy Bysshe Shelley (ed. Hutchinson, 1914)/The Cloud

THE CLOUD
[Published with Prometheus Unbound, 1820.]
* ↑ shade 1820; shades 1839.
* ↑ buds 1839; birds 1820.
* ↑ with a 1820; with the 1839.
# The Complete Poetical Works of Percy Bysshe Shelley (ed. Hutchinson, 1914)/The False Laurel and the True

Layout 2
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 Complete Poetical Works of Percy Bysshe Shelley (ed. Hutchinson, 1914)/The Isle

There was a little lawny islet By anemone and violet, Like mosaic, paven: And its roof was flowers and leaves Which the summer's breath enweaves, Where nor sun nor showers nor breeze Pierce the pines and tallest trees, Each a gem engraven;— Girt by many an azure wave With which the clouds and mountains pave A lake's blue chasm.
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 Complete Poetical Works of Percy Bysshe Shelley (ed. Hutchinson, 1914)/The Fugitives

THE FUGITIVES
[Published by Mrs. Shelley, Posthumous Poems, 1824.]
* ↑ 28 And though] Though edd. 1839.
* ↑ 57 clung] cling edd. 1839.
# The Complete Poetical Works of Percy Bysshe Shelley (ed. Hutchinson, 1914)/The Indian Serenade

THE INDIAN SERENADE
[Published, with the title, Song written for an Indian Air, in The Liberal, ii, 1822. Reprinted (Lines to an Indian Air) by Mrs. Shelley, Posthumous Poems, 1824. The poem is included in the Harvard MS. book, and there is a description by Robert Browning of an autograph copy presenting some variations from the text of 1824. See Leigh Hunt's Correspondence, ii, pp. 264-8.]
* ↑ Indian Serenade.—3 Harvard MS. omits When.
* ↑ 4 shining] burning Harvard MS., 1822.
* ↑ 7 Hath led Browning MS., 1822; Has borne Harvard MS. ; Has led 1824.
* ↑ 11 The Champak Harvard MS., 1822, 1824; And the Champak's Browning MS.
* ↑ 15 As I must on 1822, 1824; As I must die on Harvard MS., 1839. 1st ed.
* ↑ 16 Oh, belovèd Browning MS., Harvard MS., 1839, 1st ed.; Belovèd 1822, 1824.
* ↑ 23 press it to thine own Browning MS.; press it close to thine Harvard MS., 1824, 1839, 1st ed.; press me to thine own, 1822.
# The Complete Poetical Works of Percy Bysshe Shelley (ed. Hutchinson, 1914)/The Deserts of Dim Sleep

FRAGMENT: THE DESERTS OF DIM SLEEP
[Published by Rossetti, Complete P. W. of P. B. S., 1870.]
# The Book of Scottish Song/It is na, Jean

It is na, Jean.
[These verses were furnished by Burns to Johnson's Museum. He says they were originally English, but he gave them a Scotch dress. The tune, called "The Maid's Complaint," was composed by Oswald, and published in 1742.]
It is na, Jean, thy bonnie face, Nor shape that I admire, Although thy beauty and thy grace Might weel awake desire. Something, in ilka part o' thee, To praise, to love, I find; But dear as is thy form to me, Still dearer is thy mind.
Nae mair ungen'rous wish I ha'e, Nor stronger in my breast, Than if I canna mak' thee sae, At least to see thee blest. Content am I, if heaven shall give But happiness to thee: And as wi' thee I'd wish to live, For thee I'd bear to die.
# The Book of Scottish Song/Janet Macbean

Janet Macbean.
[From "Poems and Songs by Robert Nicoll." W. Tait, Edinburgh.]
Janet Macbean a public keeps, An' a merry auld wife is she; An' she sells her yill wi' a jaunty air That wad please your heart to see. Her drink's o' the best—she's hearty aye, An' her house is neat an' clean— There's no an auld wife in the public line Can match wi' Janet Macbean.
She has aye a curtsey for the laird When he comes to drink his can, An' a laugh for the farmer an' his wife, An' a joke for the farmer's man. She toddles but an' she toddles ben, Like onie wee bit queen— There's no an auld wife in the public line Can match wi' Janet Macbean.
The beggar wives gang a' to her, An' she sairs them wi' bread an' cheese,— Her bread in bannocks an' cheese in whangs Wi' a blythe gudewill she gi'es. Vow, the kintra-side will miss her sair When she's Laid aneath the green— There's no an auld wife in the public line Can match wi' Janet Macbean.
Amang alehouse wives she rules the roast; For upo' the Sabbath days She puts on her weel hain'd tartan plaid An' the rest o' her Sabbath claes, An' she sits, nae less! in the minister's seat: Ilk psalm she lilts, I ween— There's no an auld wife in the public line Can match wi' Janet Macbean.
# The Book of Scottish Song/It's no that thou'rt bonnie

It’s no that thou’rt bonnie.
[Alex. Rodger.]
It's no that thou'rt bonnie, it's no that thou'rt braw, It's no that thy skin has the whiteness o' snaw, It's no that thy form is perfection itsel', That mak's nay heart feel what my tongue canna tell; But oh! it's the soul beaming out frae thine e'e, That mak's thee sae dear and sae lovely to me.
It's pleasant to look on that mild blushing face, Sae sweetly adorn'd wi' ilk feminine grace, It's joyous to gaze on these tresses sae bright, O'ershading a forehead sae smooth and sae white; But to dwell on the glances that dart frae thine e'e, O Jeanie! it's evendown rapture to me.
That form may be wasted by lingering decay, The bloom of that cheek may be withtr'd away, Those gay gowden ringlets that yield such delight, By the cauld breath o' time may be changed into white; But the soul's fervid flashes that brighten thine e'e, Are the offspring o' heaven, and never can die. ​Let me plough the rough ocean, nor e'er touch the shore, Let me freeze on the coast of the bleak Labradore, Let me pant 'neath the glare of a vertical sun, Where no trees spread their branches, nor streams ever run; Even there, my dear Jeanie, still happy I'd be, If bless'd wi' the light o' thy heavenly e'e.