OpenLLM-France/wikimedia huggingface dataset:
# Bonny lass of Calder Braes (1)/The Bonny lass of Calder Braes

THE
BONNY LASS OF CALDER BRAES.
[Tune—Logan Water]
When cares were few and life was young, On Calder-braes I danc'd and sung, Unpain’d by keen remorse’s dart, Lay flow'd spontaneous from my heart; To crown the happy mundane scene, I lov'd—nor did I love in vain; The theme of all my artless days Was my dear lass of Calder-braes.
Thrice happy days, your loss I mourn. You’re gone—ah! never to return; Ambition's ignis fatu's glare Transform'd my bliss to black despair! The pomp of war, and pride of arms, Appear’d with such resistless charms, I left to face my country’s faes; My weeping maid on Calder-braes.
In martial conflict first I shone. In climes below the burning zone; Beneath Seringapa'am's wall I saw the tyrant Sultan's fall; Amidst the carnage of the day. Where dead and dying round me lay. 'Midst cannons’ roar, and lightning's blaze, I thought on peaceful Calder-braes.
​With laurels crown’d, with wealth array'd. Again I sought my native shade, In hopes my long lost love to meet, To lay my laurels at her feet; Alas! I never saw her more! My sanguine dreams of bliss are o'er: My only pleasure’s now to gaze On her lov'd grave on Calder-braes:
# Bonny lass of Banaphie (1826)

The bonny lass of Banaphie;
To which is added,
The Banks of Clyde.
STIRLING
Printed by W. Macnie,
1826.
* The Bonny Lass of Banaphie
* The Banks of Clyde
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
# Bonny lass of Banaphie (1)

THE
Bonny Lass
OF
BANAPHIE.
And, Hap me wi' thy Petticoat.
Falkirk—Printed by T. Johnston— 1810.
* The Bonny lass of Banaphie
* Hap me wi' thy Petticoat
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
# Bonny lass of Banaphie (1)/Hap me wi' thy Petticoat

HAP ME WITH THY PETTICOAT.
O Bell thy looks have kill'd my heart, I pass the day in pain! When night returns I feel the smart, and wish for thee in vain; I'm starving cold, while thou art warm; have pity and incline, And grant me for a hap that charm- ing petticoat of thine.
My ravish'd fancy in amaze still wanders o'er thy charms, Delusive dreams ten thousand ways present thee to my arms!
But waking, think what I endure, while cruel you decline Those pleasures, which can only cure this panting breast of mine.
I faint I fail, and wildly rove, because you still deny The just reward that's due to love, and let true passion die. Oh! turn and let compassion seize that lovely breast of thine;
Thy petticoat would give me ease, if thou and it were mine.
Sure Heaven has fitt d for delight that beauteous form of thine, And thou'rt too good its law to slight, by hind'ring the design: May all the powers of love agree at length to make thee mine. Or loose my chains and set me free from ev'ry charm of thine.
FINIS.
Falkirk—T. Johnston, Printer.
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
# Bonny lass of Banaphie (1826)/The banks of Clyde

THE BANKS O' CLYDE.
Awa awa my Jamie s gane,
Out owre the seas, far far frae hame, He’s gane, and cross'd the ocean wide, And left the bonny banks o’ Clyde.
Awa he's gane to fight his foe, And left me here in grief and woe; My love who led me by his side, Alang the bonny banks o' Clyde.
On Govan banks, whar Clyde doth flow, There ilka laddie arms his joe; While lanely I maun mourn and chide, Upon the bonny banks o' Clyde.
O, in the rosy month o' May, The lav'rocks rais'd its cheerful lay, The mavis sang, the blackbird vied, Around the bonny banks o' Clyde.
The gowans spread ilk flower sprang, My love as sweet's the day was lang, ​My heart he gain'd to be his bride, When walking on the banks o' Clyde.
O woo be to these wars in Spain, They've ta'en frae me my darling swain, And cross'd him owre the ocean wide, Far frae the bonny banks o' Clyde.
But if the high and heav'nly Pow'r, Would shield my love in dangers harm, And owre the seas him safely guide, Back to the bonny banks o' Clyde.
Our parting day would ne'er be seen, Until that death struck in between, Then a' our joys we'd lay aside, And leave the bonny banks o' Clyde.
FINIS.
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
# Bailess v. Paukune

* related portals: Supreme Court of the United States.
* sister projects: Wikidata item.
United States Supreme Court
344 U.S. 171
Bailess v. Paukune
Argued: Nov. 10, 1952. --- Decided: Dec 8, 1952
Mr. R. L. Lawrence, Anadarko, Okl., R. F. Barry, Oklahoma City, Okl., for petitioners.
Mr. Rexord Bond, Chickasha, Okl., for respondent.
Mr. Justice DOUGLAS delivered the opinion of the Court.

## Notes

This work is in the public domain in the United States because it is a work of the United States federal government (see 17 U.S.C. 105).
Public domainPublic domainfalsefalse
# Bail Act

* Search for titles containing or beginning with: "Bail Act."
* sister projects: Wikipedia article, 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.
* Bail Act 1976 (c. 63), an UK Act of Parliament that provides the right of bail in criminal proceedings, subject to exceptions, and for related matters.
* Bail Act 1977 (Qld), a Queensland Act providing for similar issues.
* Bail Act 1978 (NSW), a NSW Act providing for similar issues, repealed by the Bail Act 2013.
* Bail Act, 1997 (No. 16 of 1997), an Irish Act providing for similar issues.
* Bail Act 2000 (2000 No. 38), a New Zealand Act providing for similar issues.
* Bail Act 2013 (NSW), the current NSW Act providing for similar issues.
# Bailey v. Alabama

* Search for titles containing or beginning with: "Bailey v. Alabama."
* 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.
* Bailey v. Alabama (211 U.S. 452)
* Bailey v. Alabama (219 U.S. 219)
# Armenian Legends and Poems/Araxes Came Devouringly

Originally written in Armenian («Արազն եկաւ լափին տալով…») in 1887 and published in 1888. Published in English translation in Armenian Legends and Poems (1916).
This work is a translation and has a separate copyright status to the applicable copyright protections of the original content.
# Armed Forces Institute of Pathology: Its First Century 1862-1962/Index

​Page:The Armed Forces Institute of Pathology-ItsFirstCentury.djvu/418 ​Page:The Armed Forces Institute of Pathology-ItsFirstCentury.djvu/419 ​Page:The Armed Forces Institute of Pathology-ItsFirstCentury.djvu/420 ​Page:The Armed Forces Institute of Pathology-ItsFirstCentury.djvu/421 ​Page:The Armed Forces Institute of Pathology-ItsFirstCentury.djvu/422 ​Page:The Armed Forces Institute of Pathology-ItsFirstCentury.djvu/423 ​Page:The Armed Forces Institute of Pathology-ItsFirstCentury.djvu/424 ​Page:The Armed Forces Institute of Pathology-ItsFirstCentury.djvu/425 ​Page:The Armed Forces Institute of Pathology-ItsFirstCentury.djvu/426 ​Page:The Armed Forces Institute of Pathology-ItsFirstCentury.djvu/427
# Armenian Legends and Poems/The Rock

Originally written in Armenian («Որպէս յաղթանդամ մի ծերուկ հսկայ») in 1884 and published in 1887. Published in English translation in Armenian Legends and Poems (1916)
This work is a translation and has a separate copyright status to the applicable copyright protections of the original content.
# Care and Disappointment

First published in Paradyse of Dainty Devices, 1576. Published by Grosart in Miscellanies of the Fuller Worthies' Library, Vol. IV (1872)
Ev'n as the wax doth melt, or dew consume away Before the sun, so I, behold, through careful thoughts decay; For my best luck leads me to such sinister state, That I do waste with others’ love, that hath myself in hate. And he that beats the bush the wished bird not gets, But such, I see, as sitteth still and holds the fowling nets.   The drone more honey sucks, that laboureth not at all, Than doth the bee, to whose most pain least pleasure doth befall: The gard’ner sows the seeds, whereof the flowers do grow, And others yet do gather them, that took less pain I trow. So I the pleasant grape have pulled from the vine, And yet I languish in great thirst, while others drink the wine.   Thus like a woeful wight I wove the web of woe, The more I would weed out my cares, the more they seemed to grow: The which betokeneth, forsaken is of me, That with the careful culver climbs the worn and withered tree, To entertain my thoughts, and there my hap to moan, That never am less idle, lo! than when I am alone.
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
# Care and Generosity

From Fables.
* CARE and GENEROSITY.
* FABLE XVII.
* Old Care with Industry and Art,
* At length so well had play'd his part;
* He heap'd up such an ample store,
* That Av'rice cou'd not sigh for more:
* 5Ten thousand flocks his shepherd told,
* His coffers overflow'd with gold;
* The land all round him was his own,
* With corn his crowded granaries groan.
* In short so vast his charge and gain,
* 10That to possess them was a pain:
* With happiness oppress'd he lies,
* And much too prudent to be wise.
* Near him there liv'd a beauteous maid,
* With all the charms of youth array'd;
* 15Good, amiable, sincere and free,
* Her name was Generosity.
* 'Twas her's the largess to bestow
* On rich and poor, on friend and foe.
* Her doors to all were open'd wide,
* 20The pilgrim there might safe abide:
* For th'hungry and the thirsty crew,
* The bread she broke, the drink she drew;
* There Sickness laid her aching head,
* And there Distress cou'd find a bed.—
* 25Each hour with an all-bounteous hand,
* Diffus'd she blessings round the land:
* Her gifts and glory lasted long,
* And numerous was th'accepting throng.
* At length pale Penury seiz'd the dame,
* 30And Fortune fled, and Ruin came,
* She found her riches at an end,
* And that she had not made one friend.—
* All curs'd her for not giving more,
* Nor thought on what she'd done before;
* 35She wept, she rav'd, she tore her hair,
* When lo! to comfort her came Care.—
* And cry'd, my dear, if you will join
* Your hand in nuptial bonds with mine;
* All will be well—you shall have store,
* 40And I be plagu'd with Wealth no more.—
* Tho' I restrain your bounteous heart,
* You still shall act the generous part.—
* The Bridal came—great was the feast,
* And good the pudding and the priest;
* 45The bride in nine moons brought him forth
* A little maid of matchless worth:
* Her face was mix'd of Care and Glee,
* They christen'd her Œconomy;
* And styled her fair Discretion's Queen,
* 50The mistress of the golden mean.
* Now Generosity confin'd,
* Perfectly easy in her mind;
* Still loves to give, yet knows to spare,
* Nor wishes to be free from Care. 1751

## Notes

First published in The Midwife; or The Old Woman's Magazine (ii. 277-8, Sept. 1751). Reprinted 1752, 1756, 1791.
Reviews: "Sweetly elegant and pretty..." Fanny Burney, (Early Diary, Ed. A. R. Ellis, 1907 i. 28). "One of the most beautiful allegories that ever been imagined. Charles Burney, (Monthly Rev. Jan. 1792, p. 38).
* ↑ 33. And blamed her for not giving more. (The Gentleman's Magazine, Oct. 1751).
* ↑ 40. And I be plagu'd with health no more.— (The Gentleman's Magazine, Oct. 1751).

## Links

* on "books.google.co.uk" (1)
* on "books.google.co.uk" (2)
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
# Care and Management of Rabbits

These Seven Youngsters Averaged Two Pounds Each at Seven Weeks.
CARE AND MANAGEMENT OF RABBITS
BY
CHESLA C. SHERLOCK
PHILADELPHIA
DAVID McKAY COMPANY, Publishers
604–608 South Washington Square
PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA
To
LITTLE MARILEE
WHO SO LOVES HER "BUNNY"
AND TO
"BUNNY"
WHO FROLICS WITH HER ON THE LAWN
EVERY EVENING
PREFACE
The breeding of rabbits and the wide interest which they are attracting everywhere are one of the wonders of the present day. It is due largely to the fact that the rabbit has distinct commercial possibilities.
The purpose of this book is to tell what those possibilities are and to point out to beginner and breeder alike the most economical way to success.
The book is not intended to be an exhaustive treatise, but a handy, companionable guide on all phases of the care, breeding, and management of rabbits, whether for fancy or commerce.
Particular attention is directed to the breeding chart on page 172 which appears herewith for the first time. So far as we know it is the only line breeding chart on the market which tells at a glance the proportion of blood in ​succeeding generations. It is patterned after the line-breeding system of the late I. K. Felch, veteran poultryman.
The author desires to acknowledge the debt he owes various editors and publishers for permission to use illustrations which previously accompanied matter in their publications. To Mr. B. L. Johnson, Editor, Farm Mechanics; Walter P. McGuire, Managing Editor, American Boy, and to the editors of The Country Gentleman, he makes grateful acknowledgment.
C. C. S.
TABLE OF 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 1938, so this work is in the public domain in countries and areas where the copyright term is the author's life plus 85 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
# Birds of Passage (Collection)/The White Czar

The White Czar is Peter the Great. Batyushka, Father dear, and Gosudar, Sovereign, are titles the Russian people are fond of giving to the Czar in their popular songs.
Dost thou see on the rampart's height That wreath of mist, in the light Of the midnight moon? O, hist! It is not a wreath of mist; It is the Czar, the White Czar, Batyushka! Gosudar!
He has heard, among the dead, The artillery roll o'erhead; The drums and the tramp of feet Of his soldiery in the street; He is awake! the White Czar, Batyushka! Gosudar!
He has heard in the grave the cries Of his people: "Awake! arise!" He has rent the gold brocade Whereof his shroud was made; He is risen! the White Czar, Batyushka! Gosudar!
From the Volga and the Don He has led his armies on, Over river and morass, Over desert and mountain pass; The Czar, the Orthodox Czar, Batyushka! Gosudar!
He looks from the mountain-chain Toward the seas, that cleave in twain The continents; his hand Points southward o'er the land Of Roumili! O Czar, Batyushka! Gosudar!
And the words break from his lips: "I am the builder of ships, And my ships shall sail these seas To the Pillars of Hercules! I say it; the White Czar, Batyushka! Gosudar!
"The Bosphorus shall be free; It shall make room for me; And the gates of its water-streets Be unbarred before my fleets. I say it; the White Czar, Batyushka! Gosudar!
"And the Christian shall no more Be crushed, as heretofore, Beneath thine iron rule, O Sultan of Istamboul! I swear it; I the Czar, Batyushka! Gosudar!
# Birds of Passage (Collection)/To the River Yvette

O lovely river of Yvette! O darling river! like a bride, Some dimpled, bashful, fair Lisette, Thou goest to wed the Orge's tide.
Maincourt, and lordly Dampierre, See and salute thee on thy way, And, with a blessing and a prayer, Ring the sweet bells of St. Forget.
The valley of Chevreuse in vain Would hold thee in its fond embrace; Thou glidest from its arms again And hurriest on with swifter pace.
Thou wilt not stay; with restless feet Pursuing still thine onward flight, Thou goest as one in haste to meet Her sole desire, her head's delight.
O lovely river of Yvette! O darling stream! on balanced wings The wood-birds sang the chansonnette That here a wandering poet sings.
# Birds of Passage (Collection)/Travels by the Fireside

The ceaseless rain is falling fast, And yonder gilded vane, Immovable for three days past, Points to the misty main,
It drives me in upon myself And to the fireside gleams, To pleasant books that crowd my shelf, And still more pleasant dreams,
I read whatever bards have sung Of lands beyond the sea, And the bright days when I was young Come thronging back to me.
In fancy I can hear again The Alpine torrent's roar, The mule-bells on the hills of Spain, The sea at Elsinore.
I see the convent's gleaming wall Rise from its groves of pine, And towers of old cathedrals tall, And castles by the Rhine.
I journey on by park and spire, Beneath centennial trees, Through fields with poppies all on fire, And gleams of distant seas.
I fear no more the dust and heat, No more I feel fatigue, While journeying with another's feet O'er many a lengthening league.
Let others traverse sea and land, And toil through various climes, I turn the world round with my hand Reading these poets' rhymes.
From them I learn whatever lies Beneath each changing zone, And see, when looking with their eyes, Better than with mine own.
# Birds of Passage (Collection)/Victor Galbraith

Under the walls of Monterey At daybreak the bugles began to play, Victor Galbraith! In the mist of the morning damp and gray, These were the words they seemed to say: "Come forth to thy death, Victor Galbraith!"
Forth he came, with a martial tread; Firm was his step, erect his head; Victor Galbraith, He who so well the bugle played, Could not mistake the words it said: "Come forth to thy death, Victor Galbraith!"
He looked at the earth, he looked at the sky, He looked at the files of musketry, Victor Galbraith! And he said, with a steady voice and eye, "Take good aim; I am ready to die!" Thus challenges death Victor Galbraith.
Twelve fiery tongues flashed straight and red, Six leaden balls on their errand sped; Victor Galbraith Falls to the ground, but he is not dead; His name was not stamped on those balls of lead, And they only scath Victor Galbraith.
Three balls are in his breast and brain, But he rises out of the dust again, Victor Galbraith! The water he drinks has a bloody stain; "O kill me, and put me out of my pain!" In his agony prayeth Victor Galbraith.
Forth dart once more those tongues of flame, And the bugler has died a death of shame, Victor Galbraith! His soul has gone back to whence it came, And no one answers to the name, When the Sergeant saith, "Victor Galbraith!"
Under the walls of Monterey By night a bugle is heard to play, Victor Galbraith! Through the mist of the valley damp and gray The sentinels hear the sound, and say, "That is the wraith Of Victor Galbraith!"
# Birds of Passage (Collection)/Vittoria Colonna

VITTORIA COLONNA, on the death of her hushand, the Marchese di Pescara, retired to her castle at Ischia (Inarime), and there wrote the Ode upon his death, which gained her the title of Divine.
Once more, once more, Inarime, I see thy purple hills!--once more I hear the billows of the bay Wash the white pebbles on thy shore.
High o'er the sea-surge and the sands, Like a great galleon wrecked and cast Ashore by storms, thy castle stands, A mouldering landmark of the Past.
Upon its terrace-walk I see A phantom gliding to and fro; It is Colonna,--it is she Who lived and loved so long ago.
Pescara's beautiful young wife, The type of perfect womanhood, Whose life was love, the life of life, That time and change and death withstood.
For death, that breaks the marriage band In others, only closer pressed The wedding-ring upon her hand And closer locked and barred her breast.
She knew the life-long martyrdom, The weariness, the endless pain Of waiting for some one to come Who nevermore would come again.
The shadows of the chestnut-trees, The odor of the orange blooms, The song of birds, and, more than these, The silence of deserted rooms;
The respiration of the sea, The soft caresses of the air, All things in nature seemed to be But ministers of her despair;
Till the o'erburdened heart, so long Imprisoned in itself, found vent And voice in one impassioned song Of inconsolable lament.
Then as the sun, though hidden from sight, Transmutes to gold the leaden mist, Her life was interfused with light, From realms that, though unseen, exist,
Inarime! Inarime! Thy castle on the crags above In dust shall crumble and decay, But not the memory of her love.
# Birds of Passage (Collection)/Vox Populi

When Mazarvan the Magician, Journeyed westward through Cathay, Nothing heard he but the praises Of Badoura on his way.
But the lessening rumor ended When he came to Khaledan, There the folk were talking only Of Prince Camaralzaman,
So it happens with the poets: Every province hath its own; Camaralzaman is famous Where Badoura is unknown.
# Birds of Passage (Longfellow poem)

* "Birds of Passage" in The Seaside and the Fireside (1850).
* "Birds of Passage" in Birds of Passage (1858).
# Birds of Passage (Collection)/The Two Angels

Dedicated to Maria White, wife of James Russell Lowell, who died in 1853.
Two angels, one of Life and one of Death, Passed o'er our village as the morning broke; The dawn was on their faces, and beneath, The sombre houses hearsed with plumes of smoke.
Their attitude and aspect were the same, Alike their features and their robes of white; But one was crowned with amaranth, as with flame, And one with asphodels, like flakes of light.
I saw them pause on their celestial way; Then said I, with deep fear and doubt oppressed, "Beat not so loud, my heart, lest thou betray The place where thy beloved are at rest!"
And he who wore the crown of asphodels, Descending, at my door began to knock, And my soul sank within me, as in wells The waters sink before an earthquake's shock.
I recognized the nameless agony, The terror and the tremor and the pain, That oft before had filled or haunted me, And now returned with threefold strength again.
The door I opened to my heavenly guest, And listened, for I thought I heard God's voice; And, knowing whatsoe'er he sent was best, Dared neither to lament nor to rejoice.
Then with a smile, that filled the house with light, "My errand is not Death, but Life," he said; And ere I answered, passing out of sight, On his celestial embassy he sped.
'T was at thy door, O friend! and not at mine, The angel with the amaranthine wreath, Pausing, descended, and with voice divine, Whispered a word that had a sound like Death.
Then fell upon the house a sudden gloom, A shadow on those features fair and thin; And softly, from that hushed and darkened room, Two angels issued, where but one went in.
All is of God! If he but wave his hand, The mists collect, the rain falls thick and loud, Till, with a smile of light on sea and land, Lo! he looks back from the departing cloud.
Angels of Life and Death alike are his; Without his leave they pass no threshold o'er; Who, then, would wish or dare, believing this, Against his messengers to shut the door?