OpenLLM-France/wikimedia huggingface dataset:
# The Wonderful Fairies of the Sun/The Frost Fairy

“And they are such wonderful pictures, too,— So skilfully carved and drawn!”
THE FROST FAIRY.
OF all of the Fairies the children know And read about, day by day, The Frost is the chap that they love to watch, With his pictures so bright and gay. They know if the weather is clear and cold When they jump into bed at night: In the morning the windows will sparkle and gleam With his pictures of glistening white.
And they are such wonderful pictures, too,— So skilfully carved and drawn! How charming they look when they’re all lit up By the gray of the Wintry Dawn! He never exhibits the same ones twice, But thousands of weird designs Are shown in his pictures of flowers and trees, With their feathery sprays and lines.
“Taking pictures of waving grains, That give him ideas for his shows next year.”
​You probably think, like lots of folks, That this Fairy, so clever and queer, Is only at work in the winter time, And sleeps the rest of the year. Ah, no! He is busy the whole year round, Taking pictures of waving grains, That give him ideas for his shows next year, On your chamber window-panes.
He does other wonders as well as paint,— For have you not seen the ground Sparkle and shine in the morning light Like diamonds scattered round? This same little Fairy attends to that, And oh! he has lots of fun With his hundreds of sprites who help him work, And this is the way it is done:—
The stars, as you know, don’t shine all day, But where do you think they’re kept? Well, they’re taken to places beyond the sky, And there they are dusted and swept. Of course in the sweeping a dust is raised, And this dust, which of course shines bright, Is scattered around o’er the frozen ground By the Frost, in the dead of night.
“They are taken to places beyond the sky, And there they are dusted and swept.”
​If you treat this wonderful Fairy well, He will do just the same by you; But if you offend him, you never can tell Just what he is apt to do. He is liable either to pinch your ears, Or nip all your fingers and toes; And sometimes, if he gets really mad, He will actually bite your nose.
# The Wonderful Fairies of the Sun/The Raindrop Elves

THE RAINDROP ELVES.
WAY up above the clouds and sky, Too far to see with mortal eye, There lives another Fairy Band Well known to all, on sea or land. We’ll call this tribe the Raindrop Elves (For that is what they call themselves), But, doing work unlike the rest, Of course they’re differently dressed. For, washing trees and scrubbing grass, Or making pebbles shine like glass, While pails and brushes lie around With wet rags scattered over the ground, Calls for a special style of suits,— For overalls and rubber boots. So, dressed like this they wait until The Wind-God whistles long and shrill; Which means that at their city gate A half a dozen clouds await To take them to the world below As soon as they’re prepared to go. Each Elf his big valise has packed, Which on the cloud is piled and stacked; ​Then, climbing high upon the pile, All hands float downward mile by mile. As, steadily, swiftly down they go, The clouds, which once were white as snow, Get blackened from the many feet; And, when a counter wind they meet, The shifting, tumbling piles of bags Soon tear the clouds in shreds and rags; For rain-clouds are not often white, And do not fly at any height. When near the Earth these clouds arrive, Half of the drops with spring and dive Jump off; and dropping down through space They start out on a lively race. Each hurrying down for all he’s worth, To be the first to reach the Earth. Some land in trees, roll up their sleeves, Wash off the bark, repaint the leaves, And brighten up the fruit or buds By a generous dose of magic suds. Then others light upon the ground And straightway clean whate’er is found.
Some wash the flowers in a tub. Some choose the roofs to clean and scrub; And when they’ve lots of roofs to do
“Some choose the roofs to clean and scrub.”
“Which, pushed by the Wind-God, takes them home.”
​Who clean the house-top gutters out, And always tumble down the spout.
But, on the clouds that brought this rain, A host of Raindrops still remain. They stay there with their goods until The cloud lands on a lofty hill; Then stepping calmly off, they start To carry out their special part. They hunt up with their clever eyes The springs where rills and brooklets rise, And keep them clear and well filled up With water from their magic cup. They follow these little rills and brooks Through open fields and shady nooks; Then down the rivers wend their way, To harbor, gulf, or open bay, Until at last, bright, gay, and free, They reach the mighty boundless sea. The Drops who’ve worked on roofs and trees. Before long join themselves with these, And send word that their work is done To the King of the Fairy World, the Sun, Who sends his chariots from the skies; And up in the air these Raindrops rise To a cloud as white as the ocean’s foam, Which, pushed by the Wind-God, takes them home.
# The Wonderful Fairies of the Sun/The Fairy King and Queen

“So, calling his chariot every morn, Through the regions of space he’s whirled.”
THE FAIRY KING AND QUEEN.
THE Sun is the King of the Fairy Realms, And a Monarch we all know well; So let us gaze high o’er the skies and see Where this King and his courtiers dwell. ’Tis a beautiful palace of solid gold, With jewels and jems galore; And all of the Fairies, both rich and poor, Are welcome within its door.
He works very hard for a Royal King, For there always appears to be A legion of things to be done each day That no one can do but he. So, calling his chariot every morn, Through the regions of space he’s whirled, With a thousand bright Sunbeams to wait on him On his journey around the world.
When taking this trip, he is always dressed In an armor of shining gold; And he carries a sword made of rays of light. Which he uses, so I am told, ​To punch through the clouds when a storm is o’er, In order that he may see If the Raindrops have finished their work and left All things as they ought to be.
His throne is a glorious blaze of light; And round on all sides there stand Hundreds of Elves as ambassadors From each separate Fairy Band. But close to the throne his advisers sit,— Four fellows well known to all: They are General Winter, Lieutenant Spring, Sir Summer, and Captain Fall.
When this Sun King returns from his ride each night, He sits on his throne in state; While his servants light up the sunset clouds Till the Stars at his palace gate Bring warning that Night is drawing nigh, And Daylight has nearly fled; Then he kisses the mountain-tops “good-night,” And leisurely goes to bed.
But when he’s asleep, who rules the world? Who could, pray, except the Moon? For she is the Queen of the Midnight Skies, As he is the King of the Noon.
“In a crescent-shaped silver boat.”
​She doesn’t dash round in chariot grand, But rather prefers to float Serenely around in the cool night air, In a crescent-shaped silver boat.
The stars are her bright-eyed messengers, Who leave the King's Palace gate To follow the Queen throughout the night; And eagerly do they wait To be sent on an errand down to the Earth, Or some planet across the sky: So she calls them all Comets or Shooting Stars, From the way that they rush and fly.
# The Wonderful Fairies of the Sun/The Snowflakes

“And the drivers, decked with sleigh-bells, Wave a merry, bright ‘good-bye.’”
THE SNOWFLAKES.
WHEN the Summer days grow shorter And the Autumn holds its sway; When the Flowers close up their houses, And the Birds have moved away; Then, up in the Polar regions Where the towering icebergs rise, Lots of little sleeping Fairies Stretch and yawn, and open their eyes.
They’re the Sprites who drive the Snowflakes; And on every hand, it seems, Robes or jockey caps are scattered; While their curious horseless teams, Everywhere on clouds and icebergs, Stand on end, or on their side, In confusion, as they left them From the previous Winter's ride.
When the North Wind comes and calls them, All these Sprites rush here and there. Setting up their scattered chariots, Patching those that need repair; Getting all things fixed and ready For their drive through many a clime, When Old Winter pops his head in, Telling them it’s starting time.
“Lighting on the trees and house-tops, Softly, gently, side by side.”
​Then the Aurora Borealis Shoots bright flashes o’er the sky, And the drivers, decked with sleigh-bells, Wave a merry, bright “good-bye.” Now they’re off! midst songs and cheering, And the bells’ sweet jingling notes,— Off to beautify some country With their pure white sparkling coats.
There are two far different classes Of these Fairies of the Snow. One class, perched on downy cushions, Rest in comfort, driving slow; Lighting on the trees and house-tops, Softly, gently, side by side; Some preferring lofty mountains, Fields and pastures, broad and wide.
But the other class are swift ones! Standing firmly on their seat They come dashing down upon us In the form of Hail and Sleet. Never thinking where they’re steering, On they scamper, wild and rash, Till they strike a tree or fence-post And their chariot goes to smash!
# The Works of Francis Bacon/Volume 1/Miscellaneous Tracts I

MISCELLANEOUS TRACTS
UPON HUMAN PHILOSOPHY.
MR. BACON IN PRAISE OF KNOWLEDGE.
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 Woodman

* Search for titles containing or beginning with: "The Woodman."
* 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 Woodman", a song by Thomas Linley
* "The Woodman", a poem by Robert Louis Stevenson
# The Woodman (Linley)

Linley is identified as the author of this song in a reply in Notes and Queries, Series 9, Volume 5, June 23rd, 1900, p. 504.
* "Stay, Traveller, Tarry", in The Death of Wolfe (n.d.), a chapbook printed in Edinburgh
* "Hal the Woodman", in The Highland Laddie (n.d.), a chapbook printed in Edinburgh
* "The Wood Man", in Sweet Hellen of the Dee (n.d.), a chapbook printed in Falkirk
# The Unpardonable Sin

* Search for titles containing or beginning with: "The Unpardonable Sin."
* 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 Unpardonable Sin, a work by G. K. Chesterton
* The Unpardonable Sin, a work by James Douglas
# The Unpardonable Sin (Chesterton)

I do not cry, beloved, neither curse.  Silence and strength, these two at least are good.  He gave me sun and stars and aught He could, But not a woman's love; for that is hers.
He sealed her heart from sage and questioner --  Yea, with seven seals, as he has sealed the grave.  And if she give it to a drunken slave, The Day of Judgment shall not challenge her.
Only this much: if one, deserving well,  Touching your thin young hands and making suit,  Feel not himself a crawling thing, a brute, Buried and bricked in a forgotten hell;
Prophet and poet be he over sod,  Prince among angels in the highest place,  God help me, I will smite him on the face, Before the glory of the face of God.
# The Works of Voltaire/Volume 1/On the Nature of Man

Layout 1
Akron, Ohio: The Werner Company, pages 294–300
ON THE NATURE OF MAN.
Footnotes
# The Works of Voltaire/Volume 1

Layout 2
The WORKS of VOLTAIRE
Edition de la Pacification
Limited to one thousand sets
for America and Great Britain.
"Between two servants of Humanity, who appeared eighteen hundred years apart, there is a mysterious relation * * * * Let us say it with a sentiment of profound respect: JESUS WEPT: VOLTAIRE SMILED. Of that divine tear and of that human smile is composed the sweetness of the present civilization."
Engraved by Hardman & Rantz from a drawing by Eugene L. Smyth.
Meeting of Voltaire and Franklin
Edition de la Pacification
The Works of
V o l t a i r e
A Contemporary Version
With Notes by Tobias Smollett, Revised and Modernized New Translation by William F. Fleming, and an Introduction by Oliver H. G. Leigh
A Critique and Biography by
The Rt. Hon. John Morley
Forty-three Volumes
One hundred and sixty-eight designs, comprising reproductions of rare old engravings, steel plates, photogravures, and curious fac-similes
Volume I
Akron, Ohio
The Werner Company 1906
Copyright 1901 By E. R. DuMont
Owned by The Werner Company Akron, Ohio
made by THE WERNER COMPANY akron, ohio
VOLTAIRE
INTRODUCTORY AND BIOGRAPHICAL
VICTOR HUGO'S ORATION
CANDIDE
POETICAL DISSERTATIONS
Vol. I
Contents
List of Plates
Vol. I
# The Works of Voltaire/Volume 1/On Liberty

Layout 1
Akron, Ohio: The Werner Company, pages 288–293
On Liberty.
* ↑ The abbé Pucelle, a celebrated counsellor of parliament. The abbé Desfontaines, a man who often incurred the censure of the law. He kept open shop, where he sold panegyric and satire to those who bid highest.
* ↑ A famous physician of Paris.
* ↑ Mr. Gravesende, professor at Leyden; the first who taught Newton's discoveries. Mr. Dortous de Mairant, a gentleman of Béziers, secretary to the Academy of Sciences at Paris.
Footnotes
# The Works of the Rev. Jonathan Swift/Volume 18/A Young Lady's Complaint, For the Stay of the Dean in England

A YOUNG LADY'S COMPLAINT,
FOR
THE STAY OF THE DEAN IN ENGLAND.
BLOW, ye zephyrs, gentle gales; Gently fill the swelling sails. Neptune, with thy trident long, Trident three fork'd, trident strong; And ye Nereids fair and gay, Fairer than the rose in May, Nereids living in deep caves, Gently wash'd with gentle waves; Nereids, Neptune, lull asleep Ruffling storms, and ruffled deep; All around, in pompous state, On this richer Argo wait: Argo, bring my Golden fleece, Argo, bring him to his Greece. Will Cadenus longer stay? Come, Cadenus, come away; Come with all the haste of love, Come unto thy turtle dove. The ripen'd cherry on the tree Hangs, and only hangs for thee, Luscious peaches, mellow pears, Ceres with her yellow ears, And the grape, both red and white, Grape inspiring just delight; ​All are ripe and courting sue, To be pluck'd and press'd by you. Pinks have lost their blooming red, Mourning hang their drooping head, Every flower languid seems, Wants the colour of thy beams, Beams of wond'rous force and power, Beams reviving every flower. Come, Cadenus, bless once more, Bless again thy native shore, Bless again this drooping isle, Make its weeping beauties smile, Beauties that thine absence mourn, Beauties wishing thy return: Come, Cadenus, come with haste, Come before the winter's blast; Swifter than the lightning fly, Or I, like Vanessa, die.
# The Works of the Rev. Jonathan Swift/Volume 18/An Answer to a Friend's Question

AN ANSWER TO A FRIEND'S QUESTION.
THE furniture that best doth please St. Patrick's dean, good sir, are these: The knife and fork with which I eat; And next the pot that boils the meat; The next to be preferr'd, I think, Is the glass in which I drink; The shelves on which my books I keep; And the bed on which I sleep; An antique elbow-chair between, Big enough to hold the dean; And the stove that gives delight In the cold bleak wintry night; To these we add a thing below, More for use reserved than show: These are what the dean do please; All superfluous are but these.
# The Works of the Rev. Jonathan Swift/Volume 18/An Invitation by Dr. Delany, in the Name of Dr. Swift

AN INVITATION, BY DR. DELANY, IN THE NAME OF DR. SWIFT.
MIGHTY Thomas, a solemn senatus I call, To consult for Sapphira; so come one and all; Quit books, and quit business, your cure and your care, For a long winding walk, and a short bill of fare. I've mutton for you, sir; and as for the ladies, As friend Virgil has it; I've aliud mercedes; For Letty, one filbert, whereon to regale; And a peach for pale Constance, to make a full meal; ​ And for your cruel part, who take pleasure in blood, I have that of the grape, which is ten times as good: Flow wit to her honour, flow wine to her health; High rais'd be her worthy above titles or wealth.
* ↑ See Mrs. Pilkington's Memoirs, vol. III, page 65.
* ↑ From their diminutive size, the dean used to call Mr. Pilkington "Tom Thumb," and his wife "his lady fair."
* ↑ To correct Mrs. Barber's poems; which were published at London, in 4to, by subscription; with the addition of several poems by her son Constantine, afterward a very learned physician, and president of the college of physicians in Dublin. — The dean, in his will, bequeathed to Mrs. Barber "the medal of queen Anne and prince George, which she formerly gave me."
* ↑ The name by which Mrs. Barber was distinguished by her friends.
* ↑ Mrs. Piikington.
* ↑ Mrs. Constantia Grierson, a native of Kilkenny, who died in 1733, at the age of 27. She was well versed in Greek and Roman literature, history, divinity, philosophy, and mathematicks. She gave a proof of her knowledge of the Latin tongue, by her dedication of the Dublin edition of Tacitus to the lord Carteret, and by that of Terence to his son, to whom she likewise wrote a Greek epigram. Lord Carteret obtained a patent for Mr. George Grierson, her husband, to be king's printer in Ireland; and, to distinguish and reward her extraordinary merit, had her life inserted in it. See the preface to Mrs. Barber's poems.
* ↑ Mrs. Van Lewen (Mrs. Pilkington's mother), who used to argue with Dr. Swift, about his declamation against eating blood.
# The Works of the Rev. Jonathan Swift/Volume 18/Answer to Dr. Sheridan's Prologue, and to Dr. Swift's Epilogue, in behalf of the distressed Weavers

ANSWER TO DR. SHERIDAN'S PROLOGUE, AND TO DR. SWIFT'S EPILOGUE, IN BEHALF OF THE DISTRESSED WEAVERS. BY DR. DELANY.
FŒMINEO GENERI TRIBUANANR.
THE Muses, whom the richest silks array, Refuse to fling their shining gowns away; The pencil clothes the nine in bright brocades, And gives each colour to the pictured maids; Far above mortal dress the sisters shine, Pride in their Indian robes, and must be fine. And shall two bards in consort rhyme and huff, And fret these Muses with their playhouse stuff? The player in mimick piety may storm, Deplore the comb, and bid her heroes arm: The arbitrary mob, in paltry rage, May curse the belles and chintses of the age: Yet still the artist worm her silk shall share, And spin her thread of life in service of the fair. ​The cotton plant, whom satire cannot blast; Shall bloom the favourite of these realms, and last; Like yours, ye fair, her fame from censure grows, Prevails in charms, and glares above her foes: Your injured plant shall meet a loud defence, And be the emblem of your innocence. Some bard, perhaps, whose landlord was a weaver, Penn'd the low prologue, to return a favour: Some neighbour wit, that would be in the vogue, Work'd with his friend, and wove the epilogue. Who weaves the chaplet, or provides the bays, For such woolgathering sonneteers as these? Hence then, ye homespun witlings, that persuade Miss Chloe to the fashion of her maid. Shall the wide hoop, that standard of the town, Thus act subservient to a poplin gown? Who'd smell of wool all over? 'Tis enough The underpetticoat be made of stuff.
| Lord! to be wrapt in flannel just in May, | $\scriptstyle {\left.{\begin{matrix}\ \\\\\ \ \end{matrix}}\right\}\,$ |
| When the fields dress'd in flowers appear so gay! | $\scriptstyle {\left.{\begin{matrix}\ \\\\\ \ \end{matrix}}\right\}\,$ |
| And shall not miss be flowered as well as they? | $\scriptstyle {\left.{\begin{matrix}\ \\\\\ \ \end{matrix}}\right\}\,$ |
Work'd to a quilt, or studded in a chair! The skin, that vies with silk, would fret with stuff; Or who could bear in bed a thing so rough? Ye knowing fair, how eminent that bed, Where the chints diamonds with the silken thread, Where rustling curtains call the curious eye, And boast the streaks and paintings of the sky! Of flocks they'd have your milky Ticking full; And all this for the benefit of wool! ​ "But where," say they, "shall we bestow these weavers, That spread our streets, and are such piteous cravers?" The silk worms (brittle beings!) prone to fate, Demand their care, to make their webs complete: These may they tend, their promises receive; We cannot pay too much for what they give!
# The Works of the Rev. Jonathan Swift/Volume 18/A Riddle

A RIDDLE.
I'M wealthy and poor, I'm empty and full, I'm humble and proud, I'm witty and dull.
I'm foul, and yet fair; I'm old, and yet young; I lie with Moll Kerr, And toast Mrs. Long.
ANSWER, BY MR. F—R.
IN rigging he's rich, though in pocket he's poor; He cringes to courtiers, and cocks to the cits; Like twenty he dresses, but looks like threescore; He's a wit to the fools, and a fool to the wits.
Of wisdom he's empty, but full of conceit; He paints and perfumes, while he rots with the scab; 'Tis a beau you may swear by his sense and his gait; He boasts of a beauty, and lies with a drab.
# The Works of the Rev. Jonathan Swift/Volume 18/A Supposed Letter from the Pretender to a Whig Lord

A SUPPOSED LETTER FROM THE PRETENDER TO A WHIG LORD.
ST. GERMAINS,
I THANK you heartily for your letter; and you may be firmly assured of my friendship. In answer to what you hint that some of our friends suspect; I protest to you, upon the word of a king, and my lord Middleton will be my witness that I never ​held the least correspondence with any one person of the tory party. I observe, as near as I can, the instructions of the king my father; among whose papers there is not one letter, as I remember, from any tory, except two lords and a lady, who, as you know, have been for some years past devoted to me and the whigs. I approve of the scheme you sent me, signed by our friends. I do not find 24's name to it: perhaps he may be sick, or in the country. Middleton will be satisfied to be groom of the stole; and if you have Ireland, 11 may have the staff, provided 15 resigns his pretensions; in which case, he shall have six thousand pounds a year for life, and a dukedom. I am content 13 should be secretary and a lord; and I will pay his debts when I am able.
I confess, I am sorry your general pardon has so many exceptions; but you and my other friends are judges of that. It was with great difficulty I prevailed on the queen to let me sign the commission for life, though her majesty is entirely reconciled. If 2 will accept the privy seal, which you tell me is what would please him, the salary should be doubled: I am obliged to his good intentions, how iil soever they may have succeeded. All other parts of your plan I entirely agree with; only as to the party that opposes us, your proposal about Z may bring an odium upon my government: he stands the first excepted; and we shall have enough against him in a legal way. I wish you would allow me twelve more domesticks of my own religion; and I will give you what security you please, not to hinder any designs you have, of altering the ​ present established worship. Since I have so few employments left me to dispose of, and that most of our friends are to hold theirs for life; I hope you will all be satisfied with so great a share of power. I bid you heartily farewell; and am your assured friend.
* ↑ Published with an intent to throw the odium of a design to bring in the pretender, on the whigs.
* ↑ Charles Middleton, the second earl of that title, and baron Clairmont, was secretary of state for Scotland from the year 1684 to the revolution; when he followed king James into France, and was attainted by the Scots parliament in 1695.