OpenLLM-France/wikimedia huggingface dataset:
# The Commonweal/Volume 1/Number 1

THE COMMONWEAL.
* Introductory.
* The Manifesto of the Socialist League.
* Imperialism v. Socialism.
* Signs of the Times.
* The Commonweal.
* The Socialist League.
* Answers to Correspondents.
* The March of the Workers.
* British Socialism and the “Weekly Dispatch”
* Lessons in Socialism.
* Signs of the Times (continued).
* East-End Wo(illegible text)
* The Peterloo Massacre.
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 Donkey (Grimm)

* "Das Eselein". Brothers Grimm. Kinder- und Haus-märchen
* "The Donkey". Margaret Hunt Grimm's Household Tales, Volume 2. 1884
# The Doomed City

This poem, first published in 1831, would evolve into "The City in the Sea."
Lo ! Death hath rear'd himself a throne
In a strange city, all alone,
Far down within the dim west —
And the good, and the bad, and the worst, and the best,
Have gone to their eternal rest.
There shrines, and palaces, and towers
Are — not like any thing of ours —
O ! no — O! no — ours never loom
To heaven with that ungodly gloom!
Time-eaten towers that tremble not!
Around, by lifting winds forgot, Resignedly beneath the sky
The melancholy waters lie.
A heaven that God doth not contemn
With stars is like a diadem —
We liken our ladies' eyes to them — But there ! that everlasting pall! It would be mockery to call Such dreariness a heaven at all. Yet tho' no holy rays come down On the long night-time of that town, Light from the lurid, deep sea Streams up the turrets silently — Up thrones — up long-forgotten bowers Of sculptur'd ivy and stone flowers — Up domes — up spires — up kingly halls — Up fanes — up Babylon-like walls — Up many a melancholy shrine
Whose entablatures intertwine
The mask the — the viol — and the vine.
There open temples — open graves
Are on a level with the waves —
But not the riches there that lie
In each idol's diamond eye.
Not the gaily-jewell'd dead
Tempt the waters from their bed:
For no ripples curl, alas!
Along that wilderness of glass —
No swellings hint that winds may be
Upon a far-off happier sea:
So blend the turrets and shadows there That all seem pendulous in air,
While from the high towers of the town Death looks gigantically down. But lo! a stir is in the air!
The wave! there is a ripple there!
As if the towers had thrown aside,
In slightly sinking, the dull tide —
As if the turret-tops had given A vacuum in the filmy heaven: The waves have now a redder glow —
The very hours are breathing low —
And when, amid no earthly moans, Down, down that town shall settle hence, Hell rising from a thousand thrones
Shall do it reverence,
And Death to some more happy clime
Shall give his undivided time.
# The Donkey

* Search for titles containing or beginning with: "The Donkey."
* sister projects: Wikidata item.
This is a disambiguation page. It lists works that share the same title. If an article link referred you here, please consider editing it to point directly to the intended page.
* The Donkey (Grimm)
* The Donkey (Chesterton)
# The Donkey and the Lion

Perry index 151
* "Of the Lyon and of the Aſſe", translated by William Caxton, edited by Joseph Jacobs, in The fables of Aesop, as first printed by William Caxton in 1484 (1484)
* "An Aſs and a Lion", translated by Roger L'Estrange, in Fables of Æsop and Other Eminent Mythologists (1692)
* "The Lion and the Ass", translated by Vernon Stanley Jones, in Æsop's fables: A New Translation (1912)
* The Lion and Ass Hunting, edited by Paul Bransom (1921)
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 Early Indian Wars of Oregon/Muster Rolls

THE CAYUSE WAR.
# The Early Indian Wars of Oregon/House Concurrent Resolution No. 22

Introduced February 11, 1891. Alternate/more authoritative source: The Journal of the House of the Legislative Assembly of the State of Oregon for the Sixteenth Regular Session. 1891. p. 558. See also this brief coverage.
HOUSE CONCURRENT RESOLUTION NO. 22.
Introduced by Hon. Wm. Armstrong.
Whereas the early history of the territory of Oregon is in a chaotic state as regards the early pioneers, those noble men and women who braved the perils and sufferings incident to a long and tedious journey over the then trackless and uninhabited desert; and whereas there still remains a full and varied record of the heroic deeds of those brave men and noble women, in the office of the secretary of state, the compilation, tabulation, and publication of which would redound to the honor of this patriotic people, worthy of adorning the brightest page of American history, and thereby transmit to posterity the fortitude and sacrifices of the men who saved this state to the United States,—a state that today is the brightest gem in the galaxy of our glorious constellation; and whereas many of those early pioneers have passed that bourne from whence no traveler returns, and Time has laid his heavy hand on the hoary heads of those that remain, let us join with them in erecting to their memory a monument that will stand in the solitude of time, beneath whose shadow nations may crumble, and around whose summit generations yet unborn may linger, by the publication of those records, now resting in oblivion, in the archives of the state; therefore be it
Resolved, That the secretary of state be and he is hereby instructed to cause to be compiled, tabulated, and published, as far as is possible from the material in his possession, a complete record of the early Indian wars of Oregon, including the wars of 1855 and 1856, and a brief sketch of the pioneer history preceding such wars and connected therewith, and that he be instructed to expend not to exceed the sum of fifteen hundred dollars out of any moneys not otherwise appropriated, for the compilation and tabulation of such historical record, and such other information as will preserve the names and incidents connected with the Indian wars of Oregon; such historical work to be compiled under his direction.
Be it further resolved, That the unexpended balance, if any, shall be returned to the state treasury. The secretary of state is hereby appointed custodian of such book when published, and he is hereby authorized and directed to sell such book at the actual cost of compilation and publication, and to report to the ​legislative assembly of 1893 the amount of money received by him as the proceeds of such sales. The secretary of state is further instructed to compile statements showing services of the soldiers of the Indian wars of Oregon, and to publish the same in pamphlet form for distribution among the veterans of said wars.
Adopted by the house, February 18, 1891.
T. T. GEER, Speaker of the House.
Concurred in by the senate, February 19, 1891.
JOSEPH SIMON, President of the Senate.
# The Complete Poems of Paul Laurence Dunbar/A Corn-song

A CORN-SONG
On the wide veranda white,  In the purple failing light, Sits the master while the sun is lowly burning; And his dreamy thoughts are drowned In the softly flowing sound Of the corn-songs of the field-hands slow returning.
 Oh, we hoe de co'n  Since de ehly mo'n;  Now de sinkin' sun  Says de day is done.
O'er the fields with heavy tread, Light of heart and high of head, Though the halting steps be labored, slow, and weary; Still the spirits brave and strong Find a comforter in song, And their corn-song rises ever loud and cheery.
 Oh, we hoe de co'n  Since de ehly mo'n;  Now de sinkin' sun  Says de day is done.
To the master in his seat, Comes the burden, full and sweet, Of the mellow minor music growing clearer, As the toilers raise the hymn, Thro' the silence dusk and dim, To the cabin's restful shelter drawing nearer.
 Oh, we hoe de co'n  Since de ehly mo'n;  Now de sinkin' sun  Says de day is done.
And a tear is in the eye Of the master sitting by, As he listens to the echoes low-replying To the music's fading calls As it faints away and falls Into silence, deep within the cabin dying.
 Oh, we hoe de co'n  Since de ehly mo'n;  Now de sinkin' sun  Says de day is done.
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/A Frolic

SWING yo' lady roun' an' roun',  Do de bes' you know; Mek yo' bow an' p'omenade  Up an' down de flo'; Mek dat banjo hump huhse'f,  Listen at huh talk: Mastah gone to town to-night;  'T ain't no time to walk.
Lif' yo' feet an' flutter thoo,  Run, Miss Lucy, run; Reckon you'll be cotched an' kissed  'Fo' de night is done. You don't need to be so proud --  I's a-watchin' you, An' I's layin' lots o' plans  Fu' to git you, too.
Moonlight on de cotton-fiel'  Shinin' sof' an' white, Whippo'will a-tellin' tales  Out thaih in de night; An' yo' cabin's 'crost de lot:  Run, Miss Lucy, run; Reckon you'll be cotched an' kissed  'Fo' de night is done.
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/A Choice

THEY please me not—these solemn songs That hint of sermons covered up. 'T is true the world should heed its wrongs,  But in a poem let me sup, Not simples brewed to cure or ease Humanity's confessed disease, But the spirit-wine of a singing line,  Or a dew-drop in a honey cup!
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/A Drowsy Day

A DROWSY DAY
The air is dark, the sky is gray,  The misty shadows come and go, And here within my dusky room Each chair looks ghostly in the gloom.  Outside the rain falls cold and slow— Half-stinging drops, half-blinding spray.
Each slightest sound is magnified,  For drowsy quiet holds her reign; The burnt stick in the fireplace breaks, The nodding cat with start awakes,  And then to sleep drops off again, Unheeding Towser at her side.
I look far out across the lawn,  Where huddled stand the silly sheep; My work lies idle at my hands, My thoughts fly out like scattered strands  Of thread, and on the verge of sleep— Still half awake—I dream and yawn.
What spirits rise before my eyes!  How various of kind and form! Sweet memories of days long past, The dreams of youth that could not last,  Each smiling calm, each raging storm, That swept across my early skies.
Half seen, the bare, gaunt-fingered boughs  Before my window sweep and sway, And chafe in tortures of unrest. My chin sinks down upon my breast;  I cannot work on such a day, But only sit and dream and drowse.
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/A Florida Night

A FLORIDA NIGHT
Win' a-blowin' gentle so de san' lay low,  San' a little heavy f'om de rain, All de pa'ms a-wavin' an' a-weavin' slow,  Sighin' lak a sinnah-soul in pain. Alligator grinnin' by de ol' lagoon,  Mockin'-bird a-singin' to be big full moon. 'Skeeter go a-skimmin' to his fightin' chune  (Lizy Ann's a-waitin' in de lane!).
Moccasin a-sleepin' in de cyprus swamp;  Need n't wake de gent'man, not fu' me. Mule, you need n't wake him w'en you switch an' stomp,  Fightin' off a 'skeeter er a flea. Florida is lovely, she's de fines' lan'  Evah seed de sunlight f'om de Mastah's han', 'Ceptin' fu' de varmints an' huh fleas an' san'  An' de nights w'en Lizy Ann ain' free.
Moon 's a-kinder shaddered on de melon patch;  No one ain't a-watchin' ez I go. Climbin' of de fence so 's not to click de latch  Meks my gittin' in a little slow. Watermelon smilin' as it say, "I' s free;"  Alligator boomin', but I let him be, Florida, oh, Florida 's de lan' fu' me—  (Lizy Ann a-singin' sweet an' low).
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/A Career

A CAREER
"Break me my bounds, and let me fly To regions vast of boundless sky; Nor I, like piteous Daphne, be Root-bound. Ah, no! I would be free As yon same bird that in its flight Outstrips the range of mortal sight; Free as the mountain streams that gush From bubbling springs, and downward rush Across the serrate mountain's side,— The rocks o'erwhelmed, their banks defied,— And like the passions in the soul, Swell into torrents as they roll. Oh, circumscribe me not by rules That serve to lead the minds of fools! But give me pow'r to work my will, And at my deeds the world shall thrill. My words shall rouse the slumb'ring zest That hardly stirs in manhood's breast; And as the sun feeds lesser lights, As planets have their satellites, So round about me will I bind
The men who prize a master mind!" He lived a silent life alone, And laid him down when it was done; And at his head was placed a stone On which was carved a name unknown!
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/A Coquette Conquered

A COQUETTE CONQUERED
Yes, my ha't 's ez ha'd ez stone— Go 'way, Sam, an' lemme 'lone. No; I ain't gwine change my min'— Ain't gwine ma'y you—nuffin' de kin'.
Phiny loves you true an' deah? Go ma'y Phiny; whut I keer? Oh, you need n't mou'n an' cry— I don't keer how soon you die.
Got a present! Whut you got? Somef'n fu' de pan er pot! Huh! yo' sass do sholy beat— Think I don't git 'nough to eat?
Whut's dat un'neaf yo' coat? Looks des lak a little shoat. 'T ain't no possum! Bless de Lamb! Yes, it is, you rascal, Sam!
Gin it to me; whut you say? Ain't you sma't now! Oh, go 'way! Possum do look mighty nice, But you ax too big a price.
Tell me, is you talkin' true, Dat 's de gal's whut ma'ies you? Come back, Sam; now whah 's you gwine? Co'se you knows dat possum's mine!
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/A Confidence

A CONFIDENCE
Uncle John, he makes me tired; Thinks 'at he's jest so all-fired Smart, 'at he kin pick up, so, Ever'thing he wants to know. Tried to ketch me up last night, But you bet I would n't bite. I jest kep' the smoothes' face, But I led him sich a chase, Could n't corner me, you bet— I skipped all the traps he set. Makin' out he wan'ed to know Who was this an' that girl's beau; So 's he 'd find out, don't you see, Who was goin' 'long with me. But I answers jest ez sly, An' I never winks my eye, Tell he hollers with a whirl, "Look here, ain't you got a girl?" Y' ought 'o seen me spread my eyes, Like he 'd took me by surprise, An' I said, "Oh, Uncle John, Never thought o' havin' one." An' somehow that seemed to tickle Him an' he shelled out a nickel. Then you ought to seen me leave Jest a-laffin' in my sleeve. Fool him—well, I guess I did; He ain't on to this here kid. Got a girl! well, I guess yes, Got a dozen more or less, But I got one reely one, Not no foolin' ner no fun; Fur I 'm sweet on her, you see, An' I ruther guess 'at she Must be kinder sweet on me, So we 're keepin' company. Honest Injun! this is true, Ever' word I 'm tellin' you! But you won't be sich a scab Ez to run aroun' an' blab. Mebbe 't ain't the way with you, But you know some fellers do. Spoils a girl to let her know 'At you talk about her so. Don't you know her? her name 's Liz, Nicest girl in town she is. Purty? ah, git out, you gilly— Liz 'ud purt 'nigh knock you silly. Y' ought 'o see her when she 's dressed All up in her Sunday best, All the fellers nudgin' me, An' a-whisperin', gemunee! Betcher life 'at I feel proud When she passes by the crowd. 'T 's kinder nice to be a-goin' With a girl 'at makes some showin'— One you know 'at hain't no snide, Makes you feel so satisfied. An' I 'll tell you she 's a trump, Never even seen her jump Like some silly girls 'ud do, When I 'd hide and holler "Boo!" She 'd jest laff an' say "Git out! What you hollerin' about?" When some girls 'ud have a fit That 'un don't git skeered a bit, Never makes a bit o' row When she sees a worm er cow. Them kind 's few an' far between; Bravest girl I ever seen. Tell you 'nuther thing she 'll do, Mebbe you won't think it 's true, But if she 's jest got a dime She 'll go halvers ever' time. Ah, you goose, you need n't laff; That's the kinder girl to have. If you knowed her like I do, Guess you 'd kinder like her too. Tell you somep'n' if you 'll swear You won't tell it anywhere. Oh, you got to cross yer heart Earnest, truly, 'fore I start. Well, one day I kissed her cheek; Gee, but I felt cheap an' weak, 'Cause at first she kinder flared, 'N', gracious goodness! I was scared. But I need n't been, fer la! Why, she never told her ma. That's what I call grit, don't you? Sich a girl's worth stickin' to.
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 Enchanted Island of Yew/Chapter 2

Chapter 2. The Enchanted Isle
Once there was an enchanted island in the middle of the sea. It was called the Isle of Yew. And in it were five important kingdoms ruled by men, and many woodland dells and forest glades and pleasant meadows and grim mountains inhabited by fairies.
From the fairies some of the men had learned wonderful secrets, and had become magicians and sorcerers, with powers so great that the entire island was reputed to be one of enchantments. Who these men were the common people did not always know; for while some were kings and rulers, others lived quietly hidden away in forests or mountains, and seldom or never showed themselves. Indeed, there were not so many of these magicians as people thought, only it was so hard to tell them from common folk that every stranger was regarded with a certain amount of curiosity and fear.
The island was round--like a mince pie. And it was divided into four quarters--also like a pie--except that there was a big place in the center where the fifth kingdom, called Spor, lay in the midst of the mountains. Spor was ruled by King Terribus, whom no one but his own subjects had ever seen--and not many of them. For no one was allowed to enter the Kingdom of Spor, and its king never left his palace. But the people of Spor had a bad habit of rushing down from their mountains and stealing the goods of the inhabitants of the other four kingdoms, and carrying them home with them, without offering any apologies whatever for such horrid conduct. Sometimes those they robbed tried to fight them; but they were a terrible people, consisting of giants with huge clubs, and dwarfs who threw flaming darts, and the stern Gray Men of Spor, who were most frightful of all. So, as a rule, every one fled before them, and the people were thankful that the fierce warriors of Spor seldom came to rob them oftener than once a year.
It was on this account that all who could afford the expense built castles to live in, with stone walls so thick that even the giants of Spor could not batter them down. And the children were not allowed to stray far from home for fear some roving band of robbers might steal them and make their parents pay large sums for their safe return.
Yet for all this the people of the Enchanted Isle of Yew were happy and prosperous. No grass was greener, no forests more cool and delightful, no skies more sunny, no sea more blue and rippling than theirs.
And the nations of the world envied them, but dared not attempt to conquer an island abounding in enchantments.
# The Enchanted Island of Yew/Chapter 26

Chapter 26. The End of the Year
The girls sat upon the green moss and waited. Prince Marvel stood silent beside his horse. The silver armor was as bright as the day he donned it, nor was there a dent in his untarnished shield. The sword that had done such good service he held lightly in his hand, and the horse now and then neighed softly and turned to look at him with affectionate eyes.
Seseley began to tremble with excitement, and Berna and Helda stared at the prince with big round eyes.
But, after all, they saw nothing so remarkable as they expected. For presently--and it all happened in a flash--Prince Marvel was gone from their midst, and a handsome, slender-limbed deer darted from the bower and was quickly lost in the thick forest. On the ground lay a sheet of bark and a twig from a tree, and beside them was Lady Seseley's white velvet cloak.
Then the three girls each drew a long breath and looked into one another's eyes, and, while thus engaged, a peal of silvery laughter sounded in their ears and made them spring quickly to their feet.
Before them stood a tiny and very beautiful fairy, clothed in floating gossamer robes of rose and pearl color, and with eyes sparkling like twin stars.
"Prince Marvel!" exclaimed the three, together.
"No, indeed!" cried the fairy, with a pretty little pout. "I am no one but myself; and, really, I believe I shall now be content to exist for a few hundred years in my natural form. I have quite enjoyed my year as a mortal; but after all there are, I find, some advantages in being a fairy. Good by, my dears!"
And with another ripple of laughter the pretty creature vanished, and the girls were left alone.