OpenLLM-France/wikimedia huggingface dataset:
# The Works of J. W. von Goethe/Volume 9/Johanna Sebus

JOHANNA SEBUS.
[To the memory of an excellent and beautiful girl of seventeen, belonging to the village of Brienen, who perished on the 13th of January, 1809, whilst giving help on the occasion of the breaking up of the ice on the Rhine, and the bursting of the dam of Claverham.]
The dam breaks down, the ice-plain growls, The floods arise, the water howls. "I'll bear thee, mother, across the swell, 'Tis not yet high, I can wade right well." "Remember us, too! in what danger are we! Thy fellow lodger and children three! The trembling woman!—Thou'rt going away!" She bears the mother across the spray.
​"Quick! haste to the mound, and awhile there wait, I'll soon return, and all will be straight. The mound's close by, and safe from the wet; But take my goat, too, my darling pet!"
The dam dissolves, the ice-plain growls, The floods dash on, the water howls. She places the mother safe on the shore; Fair Susan then turns toward the flood once more. "Oh, whither? Oh, whither? The breadth fast grows, Both here and there the water o'erflows. Wilt venture, thou rash one, the billows to brave?" "They shall, and they must be preserved from the wave!"
The dam disappears, the water growls. Like ocean billows it heaves and howls. Fair Susan returns by the way she had tried, The waves roar around, but she turns not aside; She reaches the mound and the neighbour straight, But for her and the children, alas, too late!
The dam disappeared,—like a sea it growls, Round a hillock in circling eddies it howls. The foaming abyss gapes wide, and whirls round, The women and children are borne to the ground; The horn of the goat by one is seized fast, But, ah, they all must perish at last! Fair Susan still stands there, untouched by the wave! The youngest, the noblest, oh, who now will save! Fair Susan still stands there, as bright as a star, But, alas! all hope, all assistance is far. The foaming waters around her roar. To save her no bark pushes off from the shore. Her gaze once again she lifts up to heaven, Then gently away by the flood she is driven.
​No dam, no plain! to mark the place Some straggling trees are the only trace. The rushing water the wilderness covers, Yet Susan's image still over it hovers.— The water sinks, the plains reappear. Fair Susan's lamented with many a tear,— May he who refuses her story to tell, Be neglected in life and in death as well!
# The Works of J. W. von Goethe/Volume 9/Ilm, the River, to the Moon

ILM, THE RIVER, TO THE MOON.
Fillest hill and vale again, Still with softening light! Loosest from the world's cold chain All my soul to-night!
Spreadest round me far and nigh, Soothingly, thy smile; From thee, as from friendship's eye, Sorrow shrinks the while.
Every echo thrills my heart,— Glad and gloomy mood, Joy and sorrow both have part In my solitude.
River, river, glide along! I am sad, alas! Fleeting things are love and song,— Even so they pass.
I have had and I have lost What I long for yet; Ah! why will we, to our cost, Simple joys forget?
River, river, glide along, Without stop or stay! Murmur, whisper to my song In melodious play.
Whether on a winter's night Rise thy swelling floods, Or in spring thou hast delight Watering the young buds.
​Happy he who, hating none, Leaves the world's dull noise, And, with trusty friends alone, Quietly enjoys
What, for ever unexpressed, Hid from common sight, Through the mazes of the breast Softly steals by night!
# The Works of J. W. von Goethe/Volume 9/In a Word

IN A WORD.
Thus to be chained for ever, can I bear? A very torment that, in truth, would be. This very day my new resolve shall see,— I'll not go near the lately worshipped Fair. ​Yet what excuse, my heart, can I prepare In such a case, for not consulting thee? But courage! while our sorrows utter we In tones where love, grief, gladness have a share.
But see! the minstrel's bidding to obey, Its melody pours forth the sounding lyre, Yearning a sacrifice of love to bring. Scarce would'st thou think it—ready is the lay; Well, but what then? Methought in the first fire We to her presence flew, that lay to sing.
# The White Peacock

THE WHITE PEACOCK
BY
D. H. LAWRENCE
LONDON
WILLIAM HEINEMANN
1911
This work is in the public domain in the United States because it was published before January 1, 1929.
The longest-living author of this work died in 1930, so this work is in the public domain in countries and areas where the copyright term is the author's life plus 93 years or less. 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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# The Works of J. W. von Goethe/Volume 9/Smitten

SMITTEN.
Through the wood as I was roaming, There a gentle youth I spied, Piping sweetly in the gloaming, Till the rocks around replied, So la la!
And beside him down he drew me, Called me fair, and kissed me then. ​"Pipe once more!" I said, and through me Thrill'd his music sweet again. So la la!
Now my peace is flown, and never Comes a smile into mine eye, And within my ears for ever Rings that music, and I sigh, So la la!
# The Works of J. W. von Goethe/Volume 9/Song of the Spirits over the Waters

SONG OF THE SPIRITS OVER THE WATERS.
The soul of man is like to water; From Heaven it cometh, To Heaven it riseth, And then returneth to earth, For ever alternating. Then foameth brightly, In cloud-waves rolling, O'er polished rocks. Then tranquil flowing, It wandereth, hiding, Soft murmuring to depths below it. Over scrags from the steep projecting Falls it all roaring, foaming, step-like, Far downward. Then, level flowing. Creeps to the meadow away: And in the glassy sea Gaze all the planets at their fair faces.
Wind is to wavelet tenderest lover: Wind from the deep tears foam-crested billows. Soul of man mortal, how art thou like water! Fate of man mortal, how art thou like wind!
# The Works of J. W. von Goethe/Volume 9/Song of Fellowship

SONG OF FELLOWSHIP.
[Written and sung in honour of the birthday of the Pastor Ewald, at the time of Goethe's happy connection with Lili.]
In every hour of joy That love and wine prolong, The moments we'll employ To carol forth this song! We're gathered in His name, Whose power hath brought us here. He kindled first our flame, He bids it burn more clear.
Then gladly glow to-night, And let our hearts combine! Up! quaff with fresh delight This glass of sparkling wine! Up! hail the joyous hour. And let your kiss be true; With each new bond of power The old becomes the new!
Who in our circle lives, And is not happy there? True liberty it gives, And brother's love so fair. ​Thus heart and heart through life With mutual love are filled; And by no causeless strife Our union is e'er chilled.
Our hopes a God has crowned With life-discernment free, And all we view around, Renews our ecstasy. Ne'er by caprice oppressed, Our bliss is ne'er destroyed; More freely throbs our breast, By fancies ne'er alloyed.
Where'er our foot we set, The more life's path extends, And brighter, brighter yet Our gaze on high ascends. We know no grief or pain, Though all things fall and rise; Long may we thus remain! Eternal be our ties!
# The Works of J. W. von Goethe/Volume 9/Song of the Fates

SONG OF THE FATES.
FROM IPHIGENIA IN TAURIS.
ACT IV. SCENE 5.
Ye children of mortals The deities dread! The mastery hold they In hands all eternal, And use them, unquestioned, What manner they like.
Let him fear them doubly, Whom they have uplifted! On cliffs and on clouds, lo, Round tables all-golden, The seats are made ready. When rises contention, The guests are hurled downward With shame and dishonour To deep depths of midnight, And vainly await they, Bound fast in the darkness, A just condemnation.
But they remain ever In firmness unshaken Round tables all-golden. On stride they from mountain To mountain far distant: From out the abysses' Dark jaws, the breath rises Of torment-choked Titans Up tow'rd them, like incense In light clouds ascending.
​The rulers immortal Avert from whole peoples Their blessing-fraught glances, And shun, in the children, To trace the once cherished, Still eloquent features Their ancestors wore.
Thus chanted the Parcæ; The old man, the banished, In gloomy vault lying. Their song overheareth, Sons, grandsons rememb'reth, And shaketh his head.
# The Works of J. W. von Goethe/Volume 9/Separation

SEPARATION.
I think of thee whene'er the sun is glowing Upon the lake; Of thee, when in the crystal fountain flowing The moonbeams shake.
I see thee when the wanton wind is busy, And dust-clouds rise; In the deep night, when o'er the bridge so dizzy The wanderer hies.
I hear thee when the waves, with hollow roaring, Gush forth their fill; Often along the heath I go exploring, When all is still.
I am with thee! Though far thou art and darkling, Yet art thou near. The sun goes down, the stars will soon be sparkling— Oh, wert thou here.
# The Works of J. W. von Goethe/Volume 9/Sicilian Song

SICILIAN SONG.
Ye black and roguish eyes, If ye command, Each house in ruin lies, No town can stand. And shall my bosom's chain,— This plaster wall,— To think one moment, deign,— Shall it not fall?
# The Works of J. W. von Goethe/Volume 9/Sir Curt's Wedding Journey

SIR CURT'S WEDDING JOURNEY.
With a bridegroom's joyous bearing, Mounts Sir Curt his noble beast, To his mistress' home repairing, There to hold his wedding feast; When a threatening foe advances From a desert, rocky spot; For the fray they couch their lances, Not delaying, speaking not.
Long the doubtful fight continues, Victory then for Curt declares; Conqueror, though with wearied sinews, Forward on his road he fares. When he sees, though strange it may be, Something 'midst the foliage move; 'Tis a mother with her baby, Stealing softly through the grove!
And upon the spot she beckons— "Wherefore, love, this speed so wild? Of the wealth thy storehouse reckons, Hast thou nought to give thy child?" Flames of rapture now dart through him, And he longs for nothing more, While the mother seemeth to him Lovely as the maid of yore.
​But he hears his servants blowing, And bethinks him of his bride; And ere long, while onward going, Chances past a fair to ride; In the booths he forthwith buys him For his mistress many a pledge; But, alas! some Jews surprise him, And long-standing debts allege.
And the courts of justice duly Send the knight to prison straight. Oh, accursèd story, truly! For a hero, what a fate! Can my patience such things weather? Great is my perplexity. "Women, debts, and foes together,— Ah, no knight escapes scot free!
# The Works of J. W. von Goethe/Volume 9/Solitude

SOLITUDE.
Oh, ye kindly nymphs, who dwell 'mongst the rocks and the thickets, Grant unto each whatsoever he may in silence desire! Comfort impart to the mourner, and give to the doubter instruction, And let the lover rejoice, finding the bliss that he craves. For from the gods ye received what they ever denied unto mortals, Power to comfort and aid all who in you may confide.
# The Works of J. W. von Goethe/Volume 9/She Cannot End

SHE CANNOT END.
When unto thee I sent the page all white, Instead of first thereon inscribing aught, The space thou doubtless filledst up in sport, And sent it me to make my joy grow bright.
As soon as the blue cover met my sight, As well becomes a woman, quick as thought I tore it open, leaving hidden nought, And read the well-known words of pure delight:
​My only being! Dearest heart! Sweet child! How kindly thou my yearning then didst still With gentle words, enthralling me to thee. In truth methought I read thy whispers mild Wherewith thou lovingly my soul didst fill, E'en to myself for aye ennobling me.
# The Works of J. W. von Goethe/Volume 9/Should E'er the Loveless Day

SHOULD E'ER THE LOVELESS DAY.
Should e'er the loveless day remain Obscured by storms of hail and rain, Thy charms thou showest never; I tap at window, tap at door: Come, loved one, come! appear once more! Thou art as fair as ever!
# The Treasure-Train

Craig Kennedy Mystery Series #6. Twelve stories of the "Scientific Detective" and his sidekick the Star Reporter Walter Jameson. Not to forget his scientific paraphernalia.
THE CRAIG KENNEDY SERIES
THE
TREASURE-TRAIN
BY Arthur B. Reeve
FRONTISPIECE BY WILL FOSTER
HARPER & BROTHERS • PUBLISHERS NEW YORK AND LONDON
"I AM NOT BY NATURE A SPY, PROFESSOR KENNEDY, BUT—WELL, SOMETIMES ONE IS FORCED INTO SOMETHING LIKE THAT"
(frontispiece and title page)

## Contents

* I. The Treasure-train
* II. The Truth-detector
* III. The Soul-analysis
* IV. The Mystic Poisoner
* V. The Phantom Destroyer
* VI. The Beauty Mask
* VII. The Love Meter
* VIII. The Vital Principle
* IX. The Rubber Dagger
* X. The Submarine Mine
* XI. The Gun-runner
* XII. The Sunken Treasure
This work is in the public domain in the United States because it was published before January 1, 1929.
The longest-living author of this work died in 1936, so this work is in the public domain in countries and areas where the copyright term is the author's life plus 87 years or less. 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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# The Works of Francis Bacon/Volume 1/Essays/Of Ceremonies and Respects

LII. OF CEREMONIES AND RESPECTS.
He that is only real, had need of exceeding great parts of virtue; as the stone hath need to be rich that is set without foil; but if a man mark it well, it is in praise and commendation of men, as it is in gettings and gains; for the proverb is true "That light gains make heavy purses;" for light gains come thick, whereas great come hut now and then: so it is true, that small matters win great commendation, because they are continually in use and in note: whereas the occasion of any great virtue cometh but on festivals; therefore it doth much add to a man's reputation, and is (as Queen Isabella said) like perpetual letters commendatory, to have good forms; to attain them, it almost sufficeth not to despise them; for so shall a man observe them in others; and let him trust himself with the rest; for if he labour too much to express them, he shall loose their grace; which is to be natural and unaffected. Some men's be haviour is like a verse, wherein every syllable is measured; how can a man comprehend great matters, that breaketh his mind too much to small observations. Not to use ceremonies at all, is to teach others not to use them again; and so diminish respect to himself; especially they be net to be omitted to strangers and formal natures; but the dwelling upon them, and exalting them above the moon, is not only tedious, but doth diminish the faith and credit of him that speaks; and, certainly, there is a kind of conveying of effectual and imprinting passages amongst compliments, which is of singular use, if a man can hit upon it. Amongst a man's peers, a man shall be sure of familiarity; and therefore it is good a little to keep state: amongst a man's inferiors, one shall be sure of reverence; and therefore it is good a little to be familiar. He that is too much in any thing, so that he giveth another occasion of society, maketh himself cheap. To apply one s self to others, is good; so it be with demonstration, that a man doth it upon regard, and not upon facility. It is a good precept, generally in seconding another, yet to add somewhat of one's own: as if you will grant his opinion, let it be with some distinction; if you will follow his motion, let it be with condition; if you allow his counsel, let it be with alleging further reason. Men had need beware how they be too perfect in compliments; for be they never so sufficient otherwise, their enviers will be sure to give them that attribute, to the disadvantage of their greater virtues. It is loss also in business to be too full of respects, or to be too curious in observing times and opportunities. Solomon saith, "He that considereth the wind shall not sow, and he that locketh to the clouds shall not reap." A wise man will make more opportunities than he finds. Men's behaviour should be like their apparel, not too strait or point device, but free for exercise or motion.
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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# The Works of Francis Bacon/Volume 1/Essays/Of Deformity

XLIV. OF DEFORMITY.
Deformed persons are commonly even with mature; for as nature hath done ill by them, so do they by nature, being, for the most part, (as the Scripture saith,) "void of natural affection;" and so they have their revenge of natures. Certainly there is a consent between the body and the mind, and where nature erreth in the one, she ventureth in the other: "ubi peccat in uno, periclitatur in altero:" but because there is in man an election, touching the frame of his mind, and a necessity in the frame of his body, the stars of natural inclination are sometimes obscured by the sun of discipline and virtue; therefore it is good to consider of deformity, not as a sign which is more deceivable, but as a cause which seldom faileth of the effect. Whosoever hath any thing fixed in his person that doth induce contempt, hath also a perpetual spur in himself to rescue and deliver himself from scorn; therefore, all deformed persons are extreme bold; first, as in their own defence, as being exposed to scorn, but in process of time by a general habit. Also it stirreth in them industry, and especially of this kind, to watch and observe the weakness of others, that they may have somewhat to repay. Again, in their superiors, it quencheth jealousy towards them, as persons that they think they may at pleasure despise: and it layeth their competitors and emulators asleep, as never believing they should be in possibility of advancement till they see them in possession: so that upon the matter, in a great wit, deformity is an advantage to rising. Kings, in ancient times, (and at this present in some countries,) were wont to put great trust in eunuchs, because they that are envious towards all are more obnoxious and officious towards one; but yet their trust towards them hath rather been as to good spials, and good whisperers, than good magistrates and officers: and much like is the reason of deformed persons. Still the ground is, they will, if they be of spirit, seek to free themselves from scorn; which must be either by virtue or malice; and, therefore, let it not be marvelled, if sometimes they prove excellent persons; as was Agesilaus, Zanger the son of Solyman, Æsop, Gasca, president of Peru; and Socrates may go likewise amongst them, with others.
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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# The Works of Francis Bacon/Volume 1/Essays/Of Delays

XXI. OF DELAYS.
Fortune is like the market, where many times, if you can stay a little, the prices will fall; and again, it is sometimes like Sibylla's offer, which at first offereth the commodity at full, then consumeth part and part, and still holdeth up the price; for occasion (as it is in the common verse) turneth a bald noddle after she hath presented her locks ​in front, and no hold taken; or, at least, turneth the handle of the bottle first to be received, and after the belly, which is hard to clasp. There is surely no greater wisdom than well to time the beginnings and onsets of things. Dangers are no more light, if they once seem light; and more dangers have deceived men than forced them; nay, it were better to meet some dangers half way, though they come nothing near, than to keep too long a watch upon their approaches; for if a man watch too long it is odds he will fall asleep. On the other side, to be deceived with too long shadows, (as some have been when the moon was low and shone on their enemies' back,) and so to shoot off before the time; or to teach dangers to come on by over early buckling towards them, is another extreme. The ripeness or unripeness of the occasion (as we said) must ever be well weighed; and generally it is good to commit the beginnings of all great actions to Argos with his hundred eyes, and the ends to Briareus with his hundred hands: first to watch, and then to speed; for the helmet of Pluto, which maketh the politic man go invisible, is secrecy in the council, and celerity in the execution; for when things are once come to the execution, there is no secrecy comparable to celerity; like the motion of a bullet in the air, which flieth so swift as it outruns the eye.
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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# The Works of Francis Bacon/Volume 1/Essays/Of Dispatch

XXV. OF DESPATCH.
Affected despatch is one of the most dangerous things to business that can be: It is like that which the physicians calls predigestion, or hasty digestion; which is sure to fill the body full of crudities, and secret seeds of diseases: therefore measure not despatch by the times of sittinsg, but by the advancement of the business: and as, in races, it is not the large stride, or high lift, that makes the speed; so, in business, the keeping close to the matter, and not taking of it too much at once, procureth despatch. It is the care of some only to come off speedily for the time, or to contrive some false periods of business, because they may seem men of despatch: but it is one thing to abbreviate by contracting, another by cutting off; and business so handled at several sittings, or meetings, goeth commonly backward and forward in an unsteady manner. I knew a wise man, that had it for a by-word, when he saw men hasten to a conclusion, "Stay a little, that we may make an end the sooner."
On tlie other side, true despatch is a rich thing; for time is the measure of business, as money is of wares; and business is bought at a dear hand where there is small despatch. The Spartans and Spaniards have been noted to be of small despatch: "Mi venga la muerte de Spagna;"—"Let my death come from Spain," for then it will be sure to be long in coming.
Give good hearing to those that give the first information in business, and rather direct them in the beginning, than interrupt them in the continuance of their speeches; for he that is put out of his own order will go forward and backward, and be more tedious while he waits upon his memory, than he could have been if he had gone on in his own course; but sometimes it is seen that the moderator is more troublesome than the actor.
Iterations are commonly loss of time; but there is no such gain of time as to iterate often the state of the question; for it chaseth away many a frivolous speech as it is coming forth. Long and curious speeches are as fit for despatch, as a robe, or mantle, with a long train, is for a race. Prefaces, and passages, and excusations, and other speeches of reference to the person, are great wastes of time; and though they seem to proceed of modesty, they are bravery. Yet beware of being too material when there is any impediment, or obstruction in men's wills; for preoccupation of mind ever requireth preface of speech, like a fomentation to make the unguent enter.
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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# The Works of J. W. von Goethe/Volume 9/The Chosen Rock

THE CHOSEN ROCK.
Here, in the hush and stillness of mid-noon, The lover lay, and thought upon his love; With blithesome voice he spoke to me: "Be thou My witness, stone!—Yet, therefore, vaunt thee not, For thou hast many partners of my joy— To every rock that crowns this grassy dell, And looks on me and my felicity; To every forest-stem that I embrace In my entrancement as I roam along, Stand thou for a memorial of my bliss! All mingle with my rapture, and to all I lift a consecrating cry of joy. Yet do I lend a voice to thee alone, As culls the Muse some favourite from the crowd, And, with a kiss, inspires for evermore."