OpenLLM-France/wikimedia huggingface dataset:
# The Aquarian Gospel of Jesus the Christ/Chapter 67

Jesus visits John at the Jordan. Delivers his first Christine address to the people. The address. He goes with his disciples to Bethany.
1. Now, on the morrow Jesus came again and stood with John beside the ford; and John prevailed on him to speak, and standing forth he said.
2. You men of Israel, Hear! The kingdom is at hand.
3. Behold the great key-keeper of the age stands in your midst; and with the spirit of Elijah he has come.
4. Behold, for he has turned the key; the mighty gates fly wide and all who will may greet the king.
5. Behold these multitudes of women, children, men! they throng the avenues, they crowd the outer courts; each seems to be intent to be the first to meet the king.
6. Behold, the censor comes and calls, Whoever will may come; but he who comes must will to prune himself of every evil thought;
7. Must overcome desire to gratify the lower self; must give his life to save the lost.
8. The nearer to the kingdom gate you come, more spacious is the room; the multitudes have gone.
9. If men could come unto the kingdom with their carnal thoughts, their passions and desires, there scarcely would be room for all.
10. But when they cannot take these through the narrow gate they turn away; the few are ready to go in and see the king.
11. Behold, John is a mighty fisher, fishing for the souls of men. He throws his great net out into the sea of human life; he draws it in and it is full.
12. But what a medley catch! a catch of crabs, and lobsters, sharks and creeping things, with now and then a fish of better kind.
13. Behold the thousands come to hear the Wild Man of the hills; they come in crowds that he may wash them in the crystal flood, and with their lips they do confess their sins.
14. But when the morrow comes we find them in their haunts of vice again, reviling John, and cursing God, and heaping insults on the king.
15. But blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see the king.
16. And blessed are the strong in heart, for they shall not be cast about by every wind that blows;
17. But while the fickle and the thoughtless have gone back to Egypt land for leeks and carnal herbs to satisfy their appetites, the pure in heart have found the king.
18. But even those whose faith is weak, and who are naught but carnal manifests, will some day come again, and enter in with joy to see the king.
19. O men of Israel, take heed to what this prophet has to say! Be strong in mind; be pure in heart; be vigilant in helpfulness; the kingdom is at hand.
20. When Jesus had thus said he went his way, and with his six disciples came to Bethany; and they abode with Lazarus many days.
# The Aquarian Gospel of Jesus the Christ/Chapter 70

Jesus and his disciples at a marriage feast in Cana. Jesus speaks on marriage. He turns water into wine. The people are amazed.
1. In Cana, Galilee, there was a marriage feast, and Mary and her sister Miriam, and Jesus and his six disciples were among the guests.
2. The ruler of the feast had heard that Jesus was a master sent from God, and he requested him to speak.
3. And Jesus said, There is no tie more sacred than the marriage tie.
4. The chain that binds two souls in love is made in heaven, and man can never sever it in twain.
5. The lower passions of the twain may cause a union of the twain, a union as when oil and water meet.
6. And then a priest may forge a chain, and bind the twain. This is not marriage genuine; it is a counterfeit.
7. The twain are guilty of adultery; the priest is party to the crime. And that was all that Jesus said.
8. As Jesus stood apart in silent thought his mother came and said to him, The wine has failed; what shall we do?
9. And Jesus said, Pray what is wine? It is but water with the flavouring of grapes.
10. And what are grapes? They are but certain kinds of thought made manifest, and I can manifest that thought, and water will be wine.
11. He called the servants, and he said to them, Bring in six water pots of stone, a pot for each of these, my followers, and fill them up with water to the brims.
12. The servants brought the water pots, and filled them to their brims.
13. And Jesus with a mighty thought stirred up the ethers till they reached the manifest, and, lo, the water blushed, and turned to wine.
14. The servants took the wine and gave it to the ruler of the feast who called the bridegroom in and said to him,
15. This wine is best of all; most people when they give a feast bring in the best wine at first; but, lo, you have reserved the best until last.
16. And when the ruler and the guests were told that Jesus, by the power of thought, had turned the water into wine, they were amazed;
17. They said, This man is more than man; he surely is the christed one who prophets of the olden times declared would come.
18. And many of the guests believed on him, and gladly would have followed him.
# The Classic of Filial Piety

also known by its Chinese name as the Xiaojing, is a Confucian classic treatise giving advice on filial piety: that is, how to behave towards a senior such as a father, an elder brother, or a ruler.
English-language translations of Xiao Jing include:
* The Classic of Filial Piety, trans. by James Legge (1879)
* The Book of Filial Duty, trans. by Ivan Cheng (1908)
# The Class Struggle

German original: Das Erfurter Programm: in seinem grundsätzlichen Theil erläutert (1892)
The Class Struggle
(ERFURT PROGRAM)
By KARL KAUTSKY
Translated by WILLIAM E. BOHN.
CHICAGO CHARLES H. KERR & COMPANY
CO-OPERATIVE
Copyright, 1910. By Charles H. Kerr & Company
TRANSLATOR'S NOTE.
At Erfurt, in 1891, the Congress of the German Social Democracy adopted a new program. The following year Karl Kautsky published Das Erfurter Program. This work turned out to be more than a mere exposition of the new statement of principles. In his preface the author explained that it was designed to fill the gap between propaganda pamphlets on the one side and special monographs on the other. It was at once scientific and popular; it contained a systematic survey of Socialist thought and was, nevertheless, of sufficiently modest dimensions to be available for the average person's use.
In 1904, in the introduction to the fifth edition, the author stated that the Erfurt Program remained in all essential particulars an accurate statement of the principles of the German Social Democracy. Hence, his work demanded no fundamental revision. It may be added that the program adopted at Erfurt nineteen years ago is still valid, not only for the German Social Democracy, but, with comparatively unimportant modifications, for the international Socialist movement. Therefore, this book of Karl Kautsky's ​remains in a sense the most authoritative exposition of the principles underlying that movement.
The following translation is based on the eighth German edition (1907). It is as exact a rendering in English as could be compressed into two-thirds of the space occupied by the original. The passages omitted consist chiefly of illustrative material. The author's argument, his statement of principles, has nowhere been tampered with.
W. E. B.
CONTENTS.
This work is a translation and has a separate copyright status to the applicable copyright protections of the original content.
# The Child Reading the Bible

* The Child Reading the Bible, in Blackwood's Edinburgh Magazine Volume 33, 1833.
* The Child Reading the Bible, in Scenes and Hymns of Life, with Other Religious Poems (Scenes and Hymns of Life), 1834.
# The Child and Flowers

* The Child and Flowers, in The Bijou, 1828.
* The Child's return from the Woodlands, in National Lyrics, and Songs for Music (Miscellaneous Poems), 1834.
# The Child of Pleasure

Written in 1889, translated in 1890s.
* Book I, Chapter 1
* Book I, Chapter 2
* Book I, Chapter 3
* Book I, Chapter 4
* Book I, Chapter 5
* Book I, Chapter 6
* Book I, Chapter 7
* Book I, Chapter 8
* Book I, Chapter 9
* Book I, Chapter 10
* Book II, Chapter 1
* Book II, Chapter 2
* Book II, Chapter 3
* Book II, Chapter 4
* Book II, Chapter 5
* Book III, Chapter 1
* Book III, Chapter 2
* Book III, Chapter 3
* Book III, Chapter 4
* Book III, Chapter 5
* Book IV, Chapter 1
* Book IV, Chapter 2
* Book IV, Chapter 3
* Book IV, Chapter 4
* Book IV, Chapter 5
* Book IV, Chapter 6
* Book IV, Chapter 7
* Book IV, Chapter 8
* Book IV, Chapter 9
* Book IV, Chapter 10
This work is a translation and has a separate copyright status to the applicable copyright protections of the original content.
# The Collected poems of Rupert Brooke/Heaven

​ HEAVEN
Fish (fly-replete, in depth of June, Dawdling away their wat'ry noon) Ponder deep wisdom, dark or clear, Each secret fishy hope or fear. Fish say, they have their Stream and Pond; But is there anything Beyond? This life cannot be All, they swear, For how unpleasant, if it were! One may not doubt that, somehow, Good Shall come of Water and of Mud; And, sure, the reverent eye must see A Purpose in Liquidity. We darkly know, by Faith we cry, The future is not Wholly Dry. Mud unto mud!—Death eddies near— Not here the appointed End, not here! But somewhere, beyond Space and Time. Is wetter water, slimier slime! And there (they trust) there swimmeth One Who swam ere rivers were begun, Immense, of fishy form and mind, Squamous, omnipotent, and kind; And under that Almighty Fin, The littlest fish may enter in. Oh! never fly conceals a hook, Fish say, in the Eternal Brook, But more than mundane weeds are there, And mud, celestially fair; ​Fat caterpillars drift around, And Paradisal grubs are found; Unfading moths, immortal flies, And the worm that never dies. And in that Heaven of all their wish, There shall be no more land, say fish.
# The Collected poems of Rupert Brooke/Experiments

EXPERIMENTS
# The Collected poems of Rupert Brooke/Flight

​ FLIGHT
Voices out of the shade that cried, And long noon in the hot calm places, And children's play by the wayside, And country eyes, and quiet faces— All these were round my steady paces.
Those that I could have loved went by me; Cool gardened homes slept in the sun; I heard the whisper of water nigh me, Saw hands that beckoned, shone, were gone In the green and gold. And I went on.
For if my echoing footfall slept, Soon a far whispering there'd be Of a little lonely wind that crept From tree to tree, and distantly Followed me, followed me. . . .
But the blue vaporous end of day Brought peace, and pursuit baffled quite, Where between pine-woods dipped the way. I turned, slipped in and out of sight. I trod as quiet as the night.
​The pine-boles kept perpetual hush; And in the boughs wind never swirled. I found a flowering lowly bush, And bowed, slid in, and sighed and curled, Hidden at rest from all the world.
Safe! I was safe, and glad, I knew! Yet—with cold heart and cold wet brows I lay. And the dark fell. . . . There grew Meward a sound of shaken boughs; And ceased, above my intricate house;
And silence, silence, silence found me. . . . I felt the unfaltering movement creep Among the leaves. They shed around me Calm clouds of scent, that I did weep; And stroked my face. I fell asleep.
# The Collected poems of Rupert Brooke/Dust

​ DUST
When the white flame in us is gone, And we that lost the world's delight Stiffen in darkness, left alone To crumble in our separate night;
When your swift hair is quiet in death, And through the lips corruption thrust Has stilled the labour of my breath— When we are dust, when we are dust!—
Not dead, not undesirous yet, Still sentient, still unsatisfied, We'll ride the air, and shine, and flit, Around the places where we died,
And dance as dust before the sun, And light of foot, and unconfined, Hurry from road to road, and run About the errands of the wind.
And every mote, on earth or air, Will speed and gleam, down later days, And like a secret pilgrim fare By eager and invisible ways,
Nor ever rest, nor ever lie, Till, beyond thinking, out of view, One mote of all the dust that's I Shall meet one atom that was you.
​Then in some garden hushed from wind, Warm in a sunset's afterglow, The lovers in the flowers will find A sweet and strange unquiet grow
Upon the peace; and, past desiring, So high a beauty in the air, And such a light, and such a quiring, And such a radiant ecstasy there,
They'll know not if it's fire, or dew, Or out of earth, or in the height, Singing, or flame, or scent, or hue, Or two that pass, in light, to light,
Out of the garden, higher, higher. . . . But in that instant they shall learn The shattering ecstasy of our fire, And the weak passionless hearts will burn
And faint in that amazing glow, Until the darkness close above; And they will know—poor fools, they'll know!— One moment, what it is to love.
# The Collected poems of Rupert Brooke/Finding

​ FINDING
From the candles and dumb shadows, And the house where love had died, I stole to the vast moonlight And the whispering life outside. But I found no lips of comfort, No home in the moon's light (I, little and lone and frightened In the unfriendly night), And no meaning in the voices. . . . Far over the lands and through The dark, beyond the ocean, I willed to think of you! For I knew, had you been with me I'd have known the words of night, Found peace of heart, gone gladly In comfort of that light.
Oh! the wind with soft beguiling Would have stolen my thought away; And the night, subtly smiling, Came by the silver way; And the moon came down and danced to me, And her robe was white and flying; And trees bent their heads to me Mysteriously crying; And dead voices wept around me; ​And dead soft fingers thrilled; And the little gods whispered. . . . But ever Desperately I willed; Till all grew soft and far And silent . . . And suddenly I found you white and radiant, Sleeping quietly, Far out through the tides of darkness. And I there in that great light Was alone no more, nor fearful; For there, in the homely night, Was no thought else that mattered, And nothing else was true, But the white fire of moonlight, And a white dream of you.
# The Collected poems of Rupert Brooke/He Wonders Whether to Praise or to Blame Her

​ HE WONDERS WHETHER TO PRAISE OR TO BLAME HER
I have peace to weigh your worth, now all is over, But if to praise or blame you, cannot say. For, who decries the loved, decries the lover; Yet what man lauds the thing he's thrown away?
Be you, in truth, this dull, slight, cloudy naught, The more fool I, so great a fool to adore; But if you're that high goddess once I thought, The more your godhead is, I lose the more. Dear fool, pity the fool who thought you clever! Dear wisdom, do not mock the fool that missed you! Most fair,—the blind has lost your face for ever! Most foul,—how could I see you while I kissed you?
So . . . the poor love of fools and blind I've proved you, For, foul or lovely, 'twas a fool that loved you.
# The Collected poems of Rupert Brooke/In Examination

​ IN EXAMINATION
Lo! from quiet skies In through the window my Lord the Sun! And my eyes Were dazzled and drunk with the misty gold, The golden glory that drowned and crowned me Eddied and swayed through the room . . . Around me, To left and to right, Hunched figures and old, Dull blear-eyed scribbling fools, grew fair, Ringed round and haloed with holy light. Flame lit on their hair, And their burning eyes grew young and wise, Each as a God, or King of kings, White-robed and bright (Still scribbling all); And a full tumultuous murmur of wings Grew through the hall; And I knew the white undying Fire, And, through open portals, Gyre on gyre, Archangels and angels, adoring, bowing, And a Face unshaded . . . Till the light faded; And they were but fools again, fools unknowing, Still scribbling, blear-eyed and stolid immortals.
# The Collected poems of Rupert Brooke/Failure

​ FAILURE
Because God put His adamantine fate Between my sullen heart and its desire, I swore that I would burst the Iron Gate, Rise up, and curse Him on His throne of fire. Earth shuddered at my crown of blasphemy, But Love was as a flame about my feet; Proud up the Golden Stair I strode; and beat Thrice on the Gate, and entered with a cry—
All the great courts were quiet in the sun, And full of vacant echoes: moss had grown Over the glassy pavement, and begun To creep within the dusty council-halls. An idle wind blew round an empty throne And stirred the heavy curtains on the walls.
# The Collected poems of Rupert Brooke/Hauntings

​ HAUNTINGS
In the grey tumult of these after years Oft silence falls; the incessant wranglers part; And less-than-echoes of remembered tears Hush all the loud confusion of the heart; And a shade, through the toss'd ranks of mirth and crying Hungers, and pains, and each dull passionate mood,— Quite lost, and all but all forgot, undying, Comes back the ecstasy of your quietude.
So a poor ghost, beside his misty streams, Is haunted by strange doubts, evasive dreams, Hints of a pre-Lethean life, of men, Stars, rocks, and flesh, things unintelligible, And light on waving grass, he knows not when, And feet that ran, but where, he cannot tell.
The Pacific, 1914
# The Collected poems of Rupert Brooke/Home

​ HOME
I came back late and tired last night Into my little room, To the long chair and the firelight And comfortable gloom.
But as I entered softly in I saw a woman there, The line of neck and cheek and chin, The darkness of her hair, The form of one I did not know Sitting in my chair.
I stood a moment fierce and still, Watching her neck and hair. I made a step to her; and saw That there was no one there.
It was some trick of the firelight That made me see her there. It was a chance of shade and light And the cushion in the chair.
Oh, all you happy over the earth, That night, how could I sleep? I lay and watched the lonely gloom; And watched the moonlight creep From wall to basin, round the room, All night I could not sleep.
# The Beautiful White Devil/front matter

BY THE SAME AUTHOR.
DR. NIKOLA.
12mo. Paper, 50 cents; cloth, $1.00.
"Crowded to the covers with the mysterious, the startling, and the supernatural."—New York Mail and Express.
"A novel containing a more ingenious, exciting, and absorbing romance has not appeared upon our book table the season."—Boston Courier.
A BID FOR FORTUNE.
12mo. Paper, 50 cents; cloth, $1.00.
"Mr. Boothby never allows the interest of their doings to drop from first page to last: and he tells his tale in a pleasant, brisk fashion that carries the reader along, and is as convincing a vehicle as could be chosen for the relation of strange adventures such as befell the hero and his friends."—London Times.
THE MARRIAGE OF ESTHER.
12mo. Paper, 50 cents; cloth, $1.00.
"Abounds in dramatic situations, and is bright in dialogue, graphic in description, and subtle in character analysis."—Boston Advertiser.
"Crowded with incident yet perfectly natural throughout, the story is one of the most charming that its author has yet written."—New York World.
New York: D. APPLETON & CO., 72 Fifth Avenue.
# The Confessions of a Well-Meaning Woman

The Confessions of a Well-Meaning Woman
By STEPHEN McKENNA
CASSELL AND COMPANY, LTD London, New York, Toronto and Melbourne
page
To
LORD AND LADY BEAUCHAMP
In Gratitude for their Hospitality
at Walmer Castle, where this book was begun,
and at Madresfield Court, where it was finished.
page
    Cusins: Do you call poverty a crime?
    Undershaft: The worst of crimes . . . Poverty . . . strikes dead the very souls of all who come within sight, sound or smell of it. . . .
Bernard Shaw: Major Barbara.
page
CONTENTS
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 1967, so this work is in the public domain in countries and areas where the copyright term is the author's life plus 56 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.
Public domainPublic domainfalsefalse
# The Confessions of Saint Augustine (Pilkington)

* related portals: Post-Nicene Christianity, Autobiographies.
* sister projects: Wikipedia article.
This translation appeared in the collaborative Nicene and Post-Nicene Fathers: Series I
St. Aurelius Augustin Bishop of Hippo The Confessions of St. Augustine In Thirteen Books
Translated and Annotated by J.G. Pilkington, M.A.,
“Thou hast formed us for Thyself, and our hearts are restless till they find rest in Thee.”—Confessions, i. 1.
“The joy of the solemn service of Thy house constraineth to tears, when it is read of Thy younger son [Luke xv. 24] ‘that he was dead, and is alive again; he was lost, and is found.’”—Ibid. viii. 6.

## Contents

* Translator's Preface
* The Opinion of St. Augustin Concerning His Confessions
* Book I
* Book II
* Book III
* Book IV
* Book V
* Book VI
* Book VII
* Book VIII
* Book IX
* Book X
* Book XI
* Book XII
* Book XIII
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 Poems of Paul Laurence Dunbar/To Pfrimmer

TO PFRIMMER
(Lines on reading "Driftwood.")
Driftwood gathered here and there Along the beach of time; Now and then a chip of truth 'Mid boards and boughs of rhyme; Driftwood gathered day by day,— The cypress and the oak,— Twigs that in some former time From sturdy home trees broke. Did this wood come floating thick All along down "Injin Crik?" Or did kind tides bring it thee From the past's receding sea Down the stream of memory?
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 Poems of Paul Laurence Dunbar/To An Ingrate

TO AN INGRATE
This is to-day, a golden summer's day  And yet—and yet  My vengeful soul will not forget The past, forever now forgot, you say.
From that half height where I had sadly climbed,  I stretched my hand,  I lone in all that land, Down there, where, helpless, you were limed.
Our fingers clasped, and dragging me a pace,  You struggled up.  It is a bitter Cup, That now for naught, you turn away your face.
I shall remember this for aye and aye.  Whate'er may come,  Although my lips are dumb, My spirit holds you to that yesterday.
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 Poems of Paul Laurence Dunbar/To Her

TO HER
Your presence like a benison to me  Wakes my sick soul to dreamful ecstasy, I fancy that some old Arabian night  Saw you my houri and my heart's delight.
And wandering forth beneath the passionate moon,  Your love-strung zither and my soul in tune, We knew the joy, the haunting of the pain  That like a flame thrills through me now again.
To-night we sit where sweet the spice winds blow,  A wind the northland lacks and ne'er shall know, With clasped hands and spirits all aglow  As in Arabia in the long ago.
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