OpenLLM-France/wikimedia huggingface dataset:
# The Cloud of Unknowing/Chapter 72

​HERE BEGINNETH THE ONE AND SEVENTIETH CHAPTER
That some may not come to feel the perfection of this work but in time of ravishing, and some may have it when they will, in the common state of man's soul.
SOME think this matter so hard and so fearful, that they say it may not be come to without much strong travail coming before, nor conceived but seldom, and that but in the time of ravishing. And to these men will I answer as feebly as I can, and say, that it is all at the ordinance and the disposition of God, after their ableness in soul that this grace of contemplation and of ghostly working is given to.
For some there be that without much and long ghostly exercise may ​not come thereto, and yet it shall be but full seldom, and in special calling of our Lord that they shall feel the perfection of this work: the which calling is called ravishing. And some there be that be so subtle in grace and in spirit, and so homely with God in this grace of contemplation, that they may have it when they will in the common state of man's soul: as it is in sitting, going, standing, or kneeling. And yet in this time they have full deliberation of all their wits bodily or ghostly, and may use them if they desire: not without some letting (but without great letting). Ensample of the first we have by Moses, and of this other by Aaron the priest of the Temple: for why, this grace of contemplation is figured by the Ark of the Testament in the old law, and the workers in this grace be figured by them that most meddled them about this Ark, as the story will witness. And well is this grace and this work likened unto that Ark. For right as ​in that Ark were contained all the jewels and the relics of the Temple, right so in this little love put upon this cloud be contained all the virtues of man's soul, the which is the ghostly Temple of God.
Moses ere he might come to see this Ark and for to wit how it should be made, with great long travail he clomb up to the top of the mountain, and dwelled there, and wrought in a cloud six days: abiding unto the seventh day that our Lord would vouchsafe for to shew unto him the manner of this Ark-making. By Moses's long travail and his late shewing, be understood those that may not come to the perfection of this ghostly work without long travail coming before: and yet but full seldom, and when God will vouchsafe to shew it.
But that that Moses might not come to see but seldom, and that not without great long travail, Aaron had in his power because of his office, for to see it in the Temple within the Veil as ​those that may not at the first time have it but seldom, and that not without great travail, sithen after they shall have it when they will, as oft as them liketh. Ensample of this we have of Moses, that first but seldom, and not without great travail, in the mount might not see the manner of the Ark: and sithen after, as oft as by him liked, saw it in the Veil.
# The Cloud of Unknowing/Chapter 66

​HERE BEGINNETH THE SIX AND SIXTIETH CHAPTER
Of the other secondary power, Sensuality by name; and of the works and of the obedience of it unto Will, before sin and after.
SENSUALITY is a power of our soul, recking and reigning in the bodily wits, through the which we have bodily knowing and feeling of all bodily creatures, whether they be pleasing or unpleasing. And it hath two parts: one through the which it beholdeth to the needfulness of our body, another through the which it serveth to the lusts of the bodily wits. For this same power is it, that grumbleth when the body lacketh the needful things unto it, and that in the taking of the need stirreth us to take more than needeth in feeding ​and furthering of our lusts: that grumbleth in lacking of pleasing creatures, and lustily is delighted in their presence: that grumbleth in presence of misliking creatures, and is lustily pleased in their absence. Both this power and the thing that it worketh in be contained in the Memory.
Before ere man sinned was the Sensuality so obedient unto the Will, unto the which it is as it were servant, that it ministered never unto it any unordained liking or grumbling in any bodily creature, or any ghostly feigning of liking or misliking made by any ghostly enemy in the bodily wits. But now it is not so: for unless it be ruled by grace in the Will, for to suffer meekly and in measure the pain of the original sin, the which it feeleth in absence of needful comforts and in presence of speedful discomforts, and thereto also for to restrain it from lust in presence of needful comforts, and from lusty plesaunce in the absence ​of speedful discomforts: else will it wretchedly and wantonly welter, as a swine in the mire, in the wealths of this world and the foul flesh so much that all our living shall be more beastly and fleshly, than either manly or ghostly.
# The Cloud of Unknowing/Chapter 68

​HERE BEGINNETH THE EIGHT AND SIXTIETH CHAPTER
That nowhere bodily, is everywhere ghostly; and how our outer man calleth the work of this book nought.
AND on the same manner, where another man would bid thee gather thy powers and thy wits, wholly within thyself, and worship God there—although he say full well and full truly, yea! and no man trulier, an he be well conceived—yet for fear of deceit and bodily conceiving of his words, me list not bid thee do so. But thus will I bid thee. Look on nowise that thou be within thyself. And shortly, without thyself will I not that thou be, nor yet above, nor behind, nor on one side, nor on other.
"Where then," sayest thou, "shall I ​be? Nowhere, by thy tale!" Now truly thou sayest well; for there would I have thee. For why, nowhere bodily, is everywhere ghostly. Look then busily that thy ghostly work be nowhere bodily; and then wheresoever that that thing is, on the which thou wilfully workest in thy mind in substance, surely there art thou in spirit, as verily as thy body is in that place that thou art bodily. And although thy bodily wits can find there nothing to feed them on, for them think it nought that thou dost, yea! do on then this nought, arid do it for God's love. And let not therefore, but travail busily in that nought with a waking desire to will to have God that no man may know. For I tell thee truly, that I had rather be so nowhere bodily, wrestling with that blind nought, than to be so great a lord that I might when I would be everywhere bodily, merrily playing with all this ought as a lord with his own.
Let be this everywhere and this ​ought, in comparison of this nowhere and this nought. Reck thee never if thy wits cannot reason of this nought; for surely, I love it much the better. It is so worthy a thing in itself, that they cannot reason thereupon. This nought may better be felt than seen: for it is full blind and full dark to them that have but little while looked thereupon. Nevertheless, if I shall soothlier say, a soul is more blinded in feeling of it for abundance of ghostly light, than for any darkness or wanting of bodily light. What is he that calleth it nought? Surely it is our outer man, and not our inner. Our inner man calleth it All; for of it he is well learned to know the reason of all things bodily or ghostly, without any special beholding to any one thing by itself.
# The Cloud of Unknowing/Chapter 73

​HERE BEGINNETH THE THREE AND SEVENTIETH CHAPTER
How that after the likeness of Moses, of Bezaleel, and of Aaron meddling them about the Ark of the Testament, we profit on three manners in this grace of contemplation, for this grace is figured in that Ark.
THREE men there were that most principally meddled them with this Ark of the Old Testament: Moses, Bezaleel, Aaron. Moses learned in the mount of our Lord how it should be made. Bezaleel wrought it and made it in the Veil after the ensample that was shewed in the mountain. And Aaron had it in keeping in the Temple, to feel it and see it as oft as him liked.
At the likeness of these three, we profit on three manners in this grace ​of contemplation. Sometime we profit only by grace, and then we be likened unto Moses, that for all the climbing and the travail that he had into the mount might not come to see it but seldom: and yet was that sight only by the shewing of our Lord when Him liked to shew it, and not for any desert of his travail. Sometime we profit in this grace by our own ghostly cunning, helped with grace, and then be we likened to Bezaleel, the which might not see the Ark ere the time that he had made it by his own travail, helped with the ensample that was shewed unto Moses in the mount. And sometime we profit in this grace by other men's teaching, and then be we likened to Aaron, the which had it in keeping and in custom to see and feel the Ark when him pleased, that Bezaleel had wrought and made ready before to his hands.
Lo! ghostly friend, in this work, though it be childishly and lewdly spoken, I bear, though I be a wretch ​unworthy to teach any creature, the office of Bezaleel: making and declaring in manner to thine hands the manner of this ghostly Ark. But far better and more worthily than I do, thou mayest work if thou wilt be Aaron: that is to say, continually working therein for thee and for me. Do then so I pray thee, for the love of God Almighty. And since we be both called of God to work in this work, I beseech thee for God's love fulfil in thy part what lacketh of mine.
# The Cloud of Unknowing/Chapter 67

​HERE BEGINNETH THE SEVEN AND SIXTIETH CHAPTER
That whoso knoweth not the powers of a soul and the manner of her working, may lightly be deceived in understanding of ghostly words and of ghostly working; and how a soul is made a God in grace.
LO, ghostly friend! to such wretchedness as thou here mayest see be we fallen for sin: and therefore what wonder is it, though we be blindly and lightly deceived in understanding of ghostly words and of ghostly working, and specially those the which know not yet the powers of their souls and the manners of their working?
For ever when the Memory is occupied with any bodily thing, be it taken to never so good an end, yet thou art beneath thyself in this working, and ​without any soul. And ever when thou feelest thy Memory occupied with the subtle conditions of the powers of thy soul and their workings in ghostly things, as be vices or virtues, of thyself, or of any creature that is ghostly and even with thee in nature, to that end that thou mightest by this work learn to know thyself in furthering of perfection: then thou art within thyself, and even with thyself. But ever when thou feelest thy Memory occupied with no manner of thing that is bodily or ghostly, but only with the self substance of God, as it is and may be, in the proof of the work of this book: then thou art above thyself and beneath thy God.
Above thyself thou art: for why, thou attainest to come thither by grace, whither thou mayest not come by nature. That is to say, to be oned to God, in spirit, and in love, and in accordance of will. Beneath thy God thou art: for why, although it may be said in manner, that in this time God ​and thou be not two but one in spirit—insomuch that thou or another, for such onehead that feeleth the perfection of this work, may soothfastly by witness of Scripture be called a God—nevertheless yet thou art beneath Him. For why, He is God by nature without beginning; and thou, that sometime wert nought in substance, and thereto after when thou wert by His might and His love made ought, wilfully with sin madest thyself worse than nought, only by His mercy without thy desert are made a God in grace, oned with Him in spirit without departing, both here and in bliss of heaven without any end. So that, although thou be all one with Him in grace, yet thou art full far beneath Him in nature.
Lo, ghostly friend! hereby mayest thou see somewhat in part, that whoso knoweth not the powers of their own soul, and the manner of their working, may full lightly be deceived in understanding of words that be written to ​ghostly intent. And therefore mayest thou see somewhat the cause why that I durst not plainly bid thee shew thy desire unto God, but I bade thee childishly do that in thee is to hide it and cover it. And this I do for fear lest thou shouldest conceive bodily that that is meant ghostly.
# The Cloud of Unknowing/Chapter 69

​HERE BEGINNETH THE NINE AND SIXTIETH CHAPTER
How that a man's affection is marvellously changed in ghostly feeling of this nought, when it is nowhere wrought.
WONDERFULLY is a man's affection varied in ghostly feeling of this nought when it is nowhere wrought. For at the first time that a soul looketh thereupon, it shall find all the special deeds of sin that ever he did since he was born, bodily or ghostly, privily or darkly painted thereupon. And howsoever that he turneth it about, evermore they will appear before his eyes; until the time be, that with much hard travail, many sore sighings, and many bitter weepings, he have in great part washed them away. Sometime in this travail him think that it ​is to look thereupon as on hell; for him think that he despaireth to win to perfection of ghostly rest out of that pain. Thus far inwards come many, but for greatness of pain that they feel and for lacking of comfort, they go back in beholding of bodily things: seeking fleshly comforts without, for lacking of ghostly they have not yet deserved, as they should if they had abided.
For he that abideth feeleth sometime some comfort, and hath some hope of perfection; for he feeleth and seeth that many of his fordone special sins be in great part by help of grace rubbed away. Nevertheless yet ever among he feeleth pain, but he thinketh that it shall have an end, for it waxeth ever less and less. And therefore he calleth it nought else but purgatory. Sometime he can find no special sin written thereupon, but yet him think that sin is a lump, he wot never what, none other thing than himself; and then it may be called the ​base and the pain of the original sin. Sometime him think that it is paradise or heaven, for diverse wonderful sweetness and comforts, joys and blessed virtues that he findeth therein. Sometime him think it God, for peace and rest that he findeth therein.
Yea! think what he think will; for evermore he shall find it a cloud of unknowing, that is betwixt him and his God.
# The Cloud of Unknowing/Chapter 74

​HERE BEGINNETH THE FOUR AND SEVENTIETH CHAPTER
How that the matter of this book is never more read or spoken, nor heard read or spoken, of a soul disposed thereto without feeling of a very accordance to the effect of the same work: and of rehearsing of the same charge that is written in the prologue.
AND if thee think that this manner of working be not according to thy disposition in body and in soul, thou mayest leave it and take another, safely with good ghostly counsel without blame. And then I beseech thee that thou wilt have me excused, for truly I would have profited unto thee in this writing at my simple cunning; and that was mine intent. And therefore read over twice or thrice; and ever the ofter the better, and the ​more thou shalt conceive thereof. Insomuch, peradventure, that some sentence that was full hard to thee at the first or the second reading, soon after thou shalt think it easy.
Yea! and it seemeth impossible to mine understanding, that any soul that is disposed to this work should read it or speak it, or else hear it read or spoken, but if that same soul should feel for that time a very accordance to the effect of this work. And then if thee think it doth thee good, thank God heartily, and for God's love pray for me.
Do then so. And I pray thee for God's love that thou let none see this book, unless it be such one that thee think is like to the book; after that thou findest written in the book before, where it telleth what men and when they should work in this work. And if thou shalt let any such men see it, then I pray thee that thou bid them take them time to look it all over. For peradventure there is some ​matter therein in the beginning, or in the midst, the which is hanging and not fully declared there as it standeth. But if it be not there, it is soon after, or else in the end. And thus if a man saw one part and not another, peradventure he should lightly be led into error: and therefore I pray thee to work as I say thee. And if thee think that there be any matter therein that thou wouldest have more opened than it is, let me wit which it is, and thy conceit thereupon; and at my simple cunning it shall be amended if I can.
Fleshly janglers, flatterers and blamers, ronkers and ronners, and all manner of pinchers, cared I never that they saw this book: for mine intent was never to write such thing to them. And therefore I would not that they heard it, neither they nor none of these curious lettered nor unlearned men: yea! although they be full good men in active living, for it accordeth not to them.
# The Complete Poems of Paul Laurence Dunbar/The Bohemian

THE BOHEMIAN
Bring me the livery of no other man.  I am my own to robe me at my pleasure.  Accepted rules to me disclose no treasure:
What is the chief who shall my garments plan?  No garb conventional but I 'll attack it.  (Come, why not don my spangled jacket?)
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/The Boogah Man

THE BOOGAH MAN W'en de evenin' shadders  Come a-glidin' down, Fallin' black an' heavy  Ovah hill an' town, Ef you listen keerful,  Keerful ez you kin, So 's you boun' to notice  Des a drappin' pin; Den you 'll hyeah a funny  Soun' ercross de lan'; Lay low; dat's de callin'  Of de Boogah Man!
Woo-oo woo-oo!  Hyeah him ez he go erlong de way; Woo-oo, woo-oo!  Don' you wish de night 'ud t'un to day? Woo-oo, woo-oo!  Hide yo' little peepers 'hind yo' han; Woo-oo, woo-oo!  Callin' of de Boogah Man.
W'en de win 's a-shiverin'  Thoo de gloomy lane, An' dey comes de patterin'  Of de evenin' rain, W'en de owl's a-hootin',  Out daih in de wood, Don' you wish, my honey,  Dat you had been good? 'T ain't no use to try to  Snuggle up to Dan; Bless you, dat's de callin'  Of de Boogah Man!
Ef you loves yo' mammy,  An' you min's yo' pap, Ef you nevah wriggles  Outen Sukey's lap; Ef you says yo' "Lay me"  Evah single night 'Fo' dey tucks de kivers  An' puts out de light, Den de rain kin pattah  Win' blow lak a fan, But you need n' bothah  'Bout de Boogah Man!
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/The Capture

THE CAPTURE
Duck come switchin' 'cross de lot  Hi, oh, Miss Lady! Hurry up an' hide de pot  Hi, oh, Miss Lady! Duck's a mighty 'spicious fowl, Slick as snake an' wise as owl; Hol' dat dog, don't let him yowl!  Hi, oh, Miss Lady!
Th'ow dat co'n out kind o' slow  Hi, oh, Miss Lady! Keep yo'se'f behin' de do'  Hi, oh, Miss Lady! Lots o' food'll kill his feah, Co'n is cheap but fowls is deah— "Come, good ducky, come on heah."  Hi, oh, Miss Lady!
Ain't he fat and ain't he fine,  Hi, oh, Miss Lady! Des can't wait to make him mine.  Hi, oh, Miss Lady! See him waddle when he walk, 'Sh! keep still and don't you talk! Got you! Don't you daih to squawk!  Hi, oh, Miss Lady!
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/Temptation

TEMPTATION
I done got 'uligion, honey, an' I 's happy ez a king; Evahthing I see erbout me 's jes' lak sunshine in de spring; An' it seems lak I do' want to do anothah blessid thing But jes' run an' tell de neighbours, an' to shout an' pray an' sing.
I done shuk my fis' at Satan, an' I 's gin de worl' my back; I do' want no hendrin' causes now a-both'rin' in my track; Fu' I 's on my way to glory, an' I feels too sho' to miss. Wy, dey ain't no use in sinnin' when 'uligion 's sweet ez dis.
Talk erbout a man backslidin' w'en he 's on de gospel way; No, suh, I done beat de debbil, an' Temptation 's los' de day. Gwine to keep my eyes right straight up, gwine to shet my eahs, an' see Whut ole projick Mistah Satan 's gwine to try to wuk on me.
Listen, whut dat soun' I hyeah dah? 'tain't no one commence to sing; It 's a fiddle; git erway dah! don' you hyeah dat blessid thing? W'y, dat's sweet ez drippin' honey, 'cause, you knows, I draws de bow, An' when music's sho' 'nough music, I 's de one dat's sho' to know.
W'y, I 's done de double shuffle, twell a body could n't res', Jes' a-hyeahin' Sam de fiddlah play dat chune his level bes'; I could cut a mighty caper, I could gin a mighty fling Jes' right now, I 's mo' dan suttain I could cut de pigeon wing.
Look hyeah, whut 's dis I 's been sayin'? whut on urf 's tuk holt o' me? Dat ole music come nigh runnin' my 'uligion up a tree! Cleah out wif dat dah ole fiddle, don' you try dat trick agin; Did n't think I could be tempted, but you lak to made me sin!
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/The Chase

THE CHASE The wind told the little leaves to hurry,  And chased them down the way, While the mother tree laughed loud in glee,  For she thought her babes at play, The cruel wind and the rain laughed loudly,  We'll bury them deep, they said, And the old tree grieves, and the little leaves  Lie low, all chilled and dead.
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/Sympathy

I know what the caged bird feels, alas!  When the sun is bright on the upland slopes; When the wind stirs soft through the springing grass, And the river flows like a stream of glass;  When the first bird sings and the first bud opes, And the faint perfume from its chalice steals-- I know what the caged bird feels!
I know why the caged bird beats his wing  Till its blood is red on the cruel bars; For he must fly back to his perch and cling When he fain would be on the bough a-swing;  And a pain still throbs in the old, old scars And they pulse again with a keener sting-- I know why he beats his wing!
I know why the caged bird sings, ah me,  When his wing is bruised and his bosom sore,-- When he beats his bars and he would be free; It is not a carol of joy or glee,  But a prayer that he sends from his heart's deep core, But a plea, that upward to Heaven he flings-- I know why the caged bird sings!
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/The Awakening

THE AWAKENING I did not know that life could be so sweet, I did not know the hours could speed so fleet, Till I knew you, and life was sweet again. The days grew brief with love and lack of pain— I was a slave a few short days ago, The powers of Kings and Princes now I know; I would not be again in bondage, save I had your smile, the liberty I crave.
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