OpenLLM-France/wikimedia huggingface dataset:
# The Complete Poems of Francis Ledwidge/Songs of the Fields/Spring

SPRING
The dews drip roses on the meadows Where the meek daisies dot the sward. And Æolus whispers through the shadows, "Behold the handmaid of the Lord!" The golden news the skylark waketh And 'thwart the heavens his flight is curled; Attend ye as the first note breaketh And chrism droppeth on the world.
The velvet dusk still haunts the stream Where Pan makes music light and gay. The mountain mist hath caught a beam And slowly weeps itself away. ​The young leaf bursts its chrysalis And gem-like hangs upon the bough, Where the mad throstle sings in bliss O'er earth's rejuvenated brow.
ENVOI
Slowly fall, O golden sands, Slowly fall and let me sing, Wrapt in the ecstasy of youth, The wild delights of Spring.
# The Complete Poems of Francis Ledwidge/Songs of the Fields/In Manchester

IN MANCHESTER
There is a noise of feet that move in sin Under the side-faced moon here where I stray, Want by me like a Nemesis. The din Of noon is in my ears, but far away My thoughts are, where Peace shuts the blackbirds' wings And it is cherry time by all the springs.
And this same moon floats like a trail of fire Down the long Boyne, and darts white arrows thro' The mill wood; her white skirt is on the weir, She walks thro' crystal mazes of the dew, ​And rests awhile upon the dewy slope Where I will hope again the old, old hope.
With wandering we are worn my muse and I, And, if I sing, my song knows nought of mirth. I often think my soul is an old lie In sackcloth, it repents so much of birth. But I will build it yet a cloister home Near the peace of lakes when I have ceased to roam.
# The Complete Poems of Francis Ledwidge/Songs of the Fields/Inamorata

INAMORATA
The bees were holding levees in the flowers, Do you remember how each puff of wind Made every wing a hum? My hand in yours Was listening to your heart, but now The glory is all faded, and I find No more the olden mystery of the hours When you were lovely and our hearts would bow Each to the will of each, but one bright day Is stretching like an isthmus in a bay From the glad years that I have left behind.
I look across the edge of things that were And you are lovely in the April ways, ​Holy and mute, the sigh of my despair.... I hear once more the linnets' April tune Beyond the rainbow's warp, as in the days You brought me facefuls of your smiles to share Some of your new-found wonders.... Oh when soon I'm wandering the wide seas for other lands, Sometimes remember me with folded hands, And keep me happy in your pious prayer.
# The Complete Poems of Francis Ledwidge/Songs of the Fields/June

JUNE
Broom out the floor now, lay the fender by, And plant this bee-sucked bough of woodbine there, And let the window down. The butterfly Floats in upon the sunbeam, and the fair Tanned face of June, the nomad gipsy, laughs Above her widespread wares, the while she tells The farmers' fortunes in the fields, and quaffs The water from the spider-peopled wells.
The hedges are all drowned in green grass seas, And bobbing poppies flare like Elmor's light, ​While siren-like the pollen-stainéd bees Drone in the clover depths. And up the height The cuckoo's voice is hoarse and broke with joy. And on the lowland crops the crows make raid, Nor fear the clappers of the farmer's boy, Who sleeps, like drunken Noah, in the shade.
And loop this red rose in that hazel ring That snares your little ear, for June is short And we must joy in it and dance and sing, And from her bounty draw her rosy worth. Ay! soon the swallows will be flying south, The wind wheel north to gather in the snow, Even the roses spilt on youth's red mouth Will soon blow down the road all roses go.
# The Complete Poems of Francis Ledwidge/Songs of the Fields/On an Oaten Straw

ON AN OATEN STRAW
My harp is out of tune, and so I take An oaten straw some shepherd dropped of old. It is the hour when Beauty doth awake With trembling limbs upon the dewy cold. And shapes of green show where the woolly fold Slept in the winding shelter of the brake.
This I will pipe for you, how all the year The one I love like Beauty takes her way. Wrapped in the wind of winter she doth cheer The loud woods like a sunbeam of the May. This I will pipe for you the whole blue day Seated with Pan upon the mossy weir.
# The Complete Poems of Francis Ledwidge/Songs of the Fields/In the Dusk

IN THE DUSK
Day hangs its light between two dusks, my heart, Always beyond the dark there is the blue. Sometime we'll leave the dark, myself and you, And revel in the light for evermore. But the deep pain of you is aching smart, And a long calling weighs upon you sore.
Day hangs its light between two dusks, and song Is there at the beginning and the end. ​You, in the singing dusk, how could you wend The songless way Contentment fleetly wings? But in the dark your beauty shall be strong, Tho' only one should listen how it sings.
# The Complete Poems of Francis Ledwidge/Songs of the Fields/Music on Water

MUSIC ON WATER
Where does Remembrance weep when we forget? From whither brings she back an old delight? Why do we weep that once we laughed? and yet Why are we sad that once our hearts were light? I sometimes think the days that we made bright Are damned within us, and we hear them yell, Deep in the solitude of that wide hell, Because we welcome in some new regret.
​I will remember with sad heart next year This music and this water, but to-day Let me be part of all this joy. My ear Caught far-off music which I bid away, The light of one fair face that fain would stay Upon the heart's broad canvas, as the Face On Mary's towel, lighting up the place. Too sad for joy, too happy for a tear.
Methinks I see the music like a light Low on the bobbing water, and the fields Yellow and brown alternate on the height, Hanging in silence there like battered shields, Lean forward heavy with their coloured yields As if they paid it homage; and the strains, Prisoners of Echo, up the sunburnt plains Fade on the cross-cut to a future night.
​In the red West the twisted moon is low, And on the bubbles there are half-lit stars: Music and twilight: and the deep blue flow Of water: and the watching fire of Mars: The deep fish slipping thro' the moonlit bars Make Death a thing of sweet dreams, life a mock. And the soul patient by the heart's loud clock Watches the time, and thinks it wondrous slow.
# The Complete Poems of Francis Ledwidge/Songs of the Fields/Low-Moon Land

LOW-MOON LAND
I often look when the moon is low Thro' that other window on the wall, At a land all beautiful under snow, Blotted with shadows that come and go When the winds rise up and fall. And the form of a beautiful maid In the white silence stands, And beckons me with her hands.
And when the cares of the day are laid, Like sacred things, in the mart away, I dream of the low-moon land and the maid Who will not weary of waiting, or jade ​Of calling to me for aye. And I would go if I knew the sea That lips the shore where the moon is low, For a longing is on me that will not go.
# The Complete Works of Friedrich Nietzsche/Volume 10/A Dancing Song to the Mistral Wind

German Original published 1887 as part of the second edition of The Joyful Wisdom ('La Gaya Scienza'). This translation published in 1910 as part of Oscar Levy's The Complete Works of Friedrich Nietzsche volume 10.
Wildly rushing, clouds outleaping, Care-destroying, Heaven sweeping, Mistral wind, thou art my friend! Surely 'twas one womb did bear us, Surely 'twas one fate did pair us, Fellows for a common end.
From the crags I gaily greet you, Running fast I come to meet you, Dancing while you pipe and sing. How you bound across the ocean, Unimpeded, free in motion, Swifter than with boat or wing!
Through my dreams your whistle sounded, Down the rocky stairs I bounded To the golden ocean wall; Saw you hasten, swift and glorious, Like a river, strong, victorious. Tumbling in a waterfall.
Saw you rushing over Heaven, With your steeds so wildly driven, Saw the car in which you flew; Saw the lash that wheeled and quivered, While the hand that held it shivered, Urging on the steeds anew.
Saw you from your chariot swinging, So that swifter downward springing
Like an arrow you might go Straight into the deep abysses, As a sunbeam falls and kisses Roses in the morning glow.
Dance, oh! dance on all the edges, Wave-crests, cliffs and mountain ledges, Ever finding dances new! Let our knowledge be our gladness, Let our art be sport and madness, All that's joyful shall be true!
Let us snatch from every bower, As we pass, the fairest flower, With some leaves to make a crown; Then, like minstrels gaily dancing, Saint and witch together prancing, Let us foot it up and down.
Those who come must move as quickly As the wind—we'll have no sickly, Crippled, withered, in our crew; Off with hypocrites and preachers, Proper folk and prosy teachers, Sweep them from our heaven blue.
Sweep away all sad grimaces, Whirl the dust into the faces Of the dismal sick and cold! Hunt them from our breezy places, Not for them the wind that braces, But for men of visage bold.
Off with those who spoil earth's gladness, Blow away all clouds of sadness, Till our heaven clear we see; Let me hold thy hand, best fellow, Till my joy like tempest bellow! Freest thou of spirits free!
When thou partest, take a token Of the joy thou hast awoken, Take our wreath and fling it far; Toss it up and catch it never, Whirl it on before thee ever, Till it reach the farthest star.
This work is a translation and has a separate copyright status to the applicable copyright protections of the original content.
# The Complete Works of Friedrich Nietzsche/Volume 10/Columbus Redivivus

German Original published 1887 as part of the second edition of The Joyful Wisdom ('La Gaya Scienza'). This translation published in 1910 as part of Oscar Levy's The Complete Works of Friedrich Nietzsche volume 10.
Thither I'll travel, that's my notion, I'll trust myself, my grip, Where opens wide and blue the ocean I'll ply my Genoa ship.
New things on new the world unfolds me,
Time, space with noonday die:
Alone thy monstrous eye beholds me, Awful Infinity!
This work is a translation and has a separate copyright status to the applicable copyright protections of the original content.
# The Complete Works of Friedrich Nietzsche/Volume 10/Beppa the Pious

German Original published 1887 as part of the second edition of The Joyful Wisdom ('La Gaya Scienza'). This translation published in 1910 as part of Oscar Levy's The Complete Works of Friedrich Nietzsche volume 10.
While beauty in my face is,
Be piety my care,
For God, you know, loves lasses,
And, more than all, the fair.
And if yon hapless monkling
Is fain with me to live,
Like many another monkling,
God surely will forgive.   No grey old priestly devil,
But, young, with cheeks aflame—
Who e'en when sick with revel,
Can jealous be and blame.
To greybeards I'm a stranger,
And he, too, hates the old:
Of God, the world-arranger,
The wisdom here behold!
The Church has ken of living.
And tests by heart and face.
To me she'll be forgiving!
Who will not show me grace?
I lisp with pretty halting,
I curtsey, bid "good day,"
And with the fresh defaulting
I wash the old away!
Praise be this man-God's guerdon.
Who loves all maidens fair,
And his own heart can pardon
The sin he planted there.
While beauty in my face is,
With piety I'll stand,
When age has killed my graces,
Let Satan claim my hand!
This work is a translation and has a separate copyright status to the applicable copyright protections of the original content.
# The Complete Works of Count Tolstoy/Volume 2

CONTENTS
* page
* A Morning of a Landed Proprietor. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
* 1
* The Cossacks: A Novel of the Caucasus. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
* 79
* Sevastopol. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
* 309
* The Cutting of the Forest. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
* 475
The Complete Works of Count Tolstoy translated by Leo Wiener: volume scans:
* 1
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# The Complete Works of Friedrich Nietzsche/Volume 10/An Avowal of Love

German Original published 1887 as part of the second edition of The Joyful Wisdom ('La Gaya Scienza'). This translation published in 1910 as part of Oscar Levy's The Complete Works of Friedrich Nietzsche volume 10.
Oh marvel! there he flies
Cleaving the sky with wings unmoved—what force
Impels him, bids him rise,
What curb restrains him? Where's his goal, his course?
Like stars and time eterne
He liveth now in heights that life forswore,
Nor envy's self doth spurn:
A lofty flight were't, e'en to see him soar!
Oh albatross, great bird,
Speeding me upward ever through the blue!
I thought of her, was stirred
To tears unending—yea, I love her true!
This work is a translation and has a separate copyright status to the applicable copyright protections of the original content.
# The Bull and the Goat

* related authors: Aesop.
* sister projects: Wikidata item.
Perry index 217
* "A Bull and a Goat", translated by Roger L'Estrange, in Fables of Æsop and Other Eminent Mythologists (1692)
* "Of the Lyon and of the Boole", translated by William Caxton, edited by Joseph Jacobs, in The fables of Aesop, as first printed by William Caxton in 1484 (1484)
* "The Bull and the Goat", translated by George Fyler Townsend, illustrated by Harrison Weir, in Three Hundred Æsop's Fables (1867)
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 Bulletin

An Australian magazine published from 1880 to 2008 by the Bulletin Newspaper Co.

## Volume 9

* Number 462, 22 December 1888 (transcription project)
** Old Pardon, the Son of Reprieve
** Nasty Remarks
** Our Chinese Ancestor

## Volume 10

* Number 514, 21 December 1889 (transcription project)
This work is a periodical and multiple copyrights apply. The period of publication may straddle the periods of different copyright laws. Both the issues themselves and the individual contributions to those issues may have different copyright statuses.
Public domainPublic domainfalsefalse
This work is in the public domain in the United States because it was published before January 1, 1929.
This work may be in the public domain in countries and areas with longer native copyright terms that apply the rule of the shorter term to foreign works.
Public domainPublic domainfalsefalse
# The Bull and the Calf

Perry index 531
* "The Bull and the Calf", translated by George Fyler Townsend, in Three Hundred Æsop's Fables (1867)
* "The Bull and the Calf", translated by Vernon Stanley Jones, in Æsop's fables: A New Translation (1912)
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 Bulletin/Volume 9/Number 462/Nasty Remarks

Nasty Remarks.
(Many Original and some True.)
Nothing comes of those who wet.
To the clergy—"The rich ye have always with ye."
"Any man can make money." Any woman can spend money.
Banqueting the successful man is like re-gilding a pawnbroker's sign.
Blessed are the poor, for they shall inherit the earth. Yes, six feet of the earth.
In obtaining divorces always employ the same lawyer. There's a reduction on a quantity.
Purgatory is the place where you will meet the middle-classes. Then purgatory must be hell.
A "lady-help" is a single woman who helps herself to her mistress's shoes. This needs thinking over.
"The kiss is a prolific means of spreading disease." Yes, there are more widows than widowers about.
Men who buy women with diamonds get them cheapest in the long run. Diamonds are cheaper than pieces of your heart.
Women are of two kinds, angelically good or infernally bad. There is no medium sort. When they are good they are too good for this world, and when they are bad they ought to be sent out of it.
# The Diary of a Nobody/Chapter the last

CHAPTER THE LAST.
One of the happiest days of my life.
July 10.—The excitement and anxiety through which I have gone the last few days have been almost enough to turn my hair grey. It is all but settled. To-morrow the die will be cast. I have written a long letter to Lupin—feeling it my duty to do so,—regarding his attention to Mrs. Posh, for they drove up to our house again last night.
July 11.—I find my eyes filling with tears as I pen the note of my interview this morning with Mr. Perkupp. Addressing me, he said: "My faithful servant, I will not dwell on the important service you have done our firm. You can never be sufficiently thanked. Let us change the subject. Do you like your house, and are you happy where you are?"
I replied: "Yes, sir; I love my house and I love the neighbourhood, and could not bear to leave it."
Mr. Perkupp, to my surprise, said: "Mr. Pooter, I will purchase the freehold of that ​house, and present it to the most honest and most worthy man it has ever been my lot to meet."
He shook my hand, and said he hoped my wife and I would be spared many years to enjoy it. My heart was too full to thank him; and, seeing my embarrassment the good fellow said: "You need say nothing, Mr. Pooter," and left the office.
I sent telegrams to Carrie, Cowing, and Cummings (a thing I have never done before), and asked the two latter to come round to supper.
On arriving home I found Carrie crying with joy, and I sent Sarah round to the grocer's to get two bottles of "Jackson Frères."
My two dear friends came in the evening, and the last post brought a letter from Lupin in reply to mine. I read it aloud to them all. It ran: "My dear old Guv.,—Keep your hair on. You are on the wrong tack again. I am engaged to be married to 'Lillie Girl.' I did not mention it last Thursday, as it was not definitely settled. We shall be married in August, and amongst our guests we hope to see your old friends Gowing and Cummings. With much love to all, from The same old Lupin."
THE END.
# The Diary of a Pilgrimage

The Diary of a Pilgrimage.
JEROME K. JEROME.
ARROWSMITH'S THREE-AND-SIXPENNY SERIES
DIARY OF A PILGRIMAGE.
To every purchaser of which are also given away in this volume
Six splendid Essays
by the same Author.
Diary of a Pilgrimage
(AND SIX ESSAYS.)
BY
JEROME K. JEROME
AUTHOR OF "THE IDLE THOUGHTS OF AN IDLE FELLOW," "STAGELAND" "THREE MEN IN A BOAT," ETC.
With upwards of One Hundred and Twenty Illustrations
BY
G. G. FRASER
BRISTOL J. W. Arrowsmith, 11 Quay Street LONDON Simpkin, Marshall, Hamilton, Kent & Co. Limited
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 1927, so this work is in the public domain in countries and areas where the copyright term is the author's life plus 96 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.
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# The Dictionary of Australasian Biography/Goyder, George Woodroffe

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​Goyder, George Woodroffe, C.M.G., Surveyor-General, South Australia, son of the Rev. David George Goyder, of the New Jerusalem Church of London and Ipswich, was born in 1824, and emigrated to Australia in 1848. Three years later, having gone to South Australia, he entered the office of the Colonial Engineer, Colonel (afterwards Sir A. H.) Freeling, and became Chief Clerk in the Lands and Survey Department in 1853, Deputy Surveyor-General in 1858, and Surveyor-General, in succession to Colonel Freeling, in 1861. He has undertaken several exploring expeditions, and in 1869 to 1870 fixed the site of the capital of the Northern Territory at Palmerston, and laid out in sections 500,000 acres in its vicinity. For the despatch and skill with which he accomplished this difficult work he was complimented by Parliament. Mr. Goyder was created C.M.G. in 1889.
# The Dictionary of Australasian Biography/Graves, John Woodcock

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​Graves, John Woodcock, son of Joseph Graves, a plumber at Wigton, Cumberland, was born at that place on Feb. 9th, 1795, and worked with his uncle, George Graves, a sign-painter at Cockermouth. He was subsequently connected with woollen mills at Caldbeck, and emigrated to Van Diemen's Land in 1833. He ​invented a machine for dressing New Zealand flax, and was the author of the hunting song, "D'ye ken John Peel with his coat so gray?" (1824) and other poems. He died in Hobart, Tasmania, on August 17th, 1886.
# The Dictionary of Australasian Biography/Gray, Robert John

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​Gray, Robert John, Railway Commissioner, Queensland, was born at Port Macquarie, N.S.W., in 1840, and was appointed chief clerk in the office of the Colonial Secretary of Queensland in 1866, and in 1870 Immigration Agent. He became Under Colonial Secretary on the retirement of Mr. F. C. Rawlins in 1880, a position he retained until July 1889, when he was appointed one of the Commissioners of Management of Queensland Railways.
# The Dictionary of Australasian Biography/Graham, Hon. George

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​Graham, Hon. George, M.L.A., Minister of Water Supply, Victoria, was returned to the Legislative Assembly for Moira in March 1886, and for Numurkah and Nathalia in 1889 and 1892. In Nov. 1890 he accepted office in Mr. Munro's Government as Minister of Water Supply, and was sworn of the Executive Council. When the Ministry was reconstructed under Mr. Shiels in Feb. 1892, Mr. Graham still retained office, and is now Minister of Public Works and Agriculture in addition.