OpenLLM-France/wikimedia huggingface dataset:
# The Book of Scottish Song/Sorrow and Song

Sorrow and Song.
[James Hedderwick, Junr., editor of "The Glasgow Citizen."]
Weep not over poet's wrong, Mourn not his mischances,— Sorrow is the source of song, And of gentle fancies.
Rills o'er rocky beds are borne, Ere they gush in whiteness; Pebbles are wave-chafed and worn, Ere they show their brightness.
Sweetest gleam the morning flowers When in tears they waken; Earth enjoys refreshing showers When the boughs are shaken.
Ceylon's glistening pearls are sought In its deepest waters; From the darkest mines are brought Gems for beauty's daughters.
Through the rent and shiver'd rock Limpid water breaketh; 'Tis but when the cords are struck That their music waketh.
Flowers by heedless footsteps prest, All their sweets surrender; Gold must brook the fiery test, Ere it show its splendour.
When the twilight cold and damp Gloom and silence bringeth, Then the glowworm lights its lamp, And the bulbul singeth.
Stars come forth when night her shroud Draws as daylight fainteth; Only on the tearful cloud God his rainbow painteth.
Weep not, then, o'er poet's wrong. Mourn not his mischances,— Sorrow is the source of song, And of gentle fancies.
# The Book of Scottish Song/Somebody 1

Somebody.
[The following are the old verses to the now popular tune of "Somebody." They appear in the Tea Table Miscellany without signature, and are probably by Ramsay himself.]
For the sake of somebody, For the sake of somebody, I could wake a winter nicht, For the sake of somebody. I am gaun to seek a wife, I am gaun to buy a plaidy; I have three stane o' woo'; Carline, is thy daughter ready? For the sake of somebody, &c.
Betty, lassie, say't thysell, Though thy dame be ill to shoe: First we'll buckle, then we'll tell; Let her flyte, and syne come to. What signifies a mother's gloom, When love and kisses come in play? Should we wither in our bloom, And in simmer mak' nae hay?
Bonny lad, I carena by, Though I try my luck wi' thee, Since ye are content to tie The half-mark bridal-band wi' me. I'll slip hame and wash my feet, And steal on linens fair and clean; Syne at the trysting-place we'll meet, To do but what my dame has done.
Now my lovely Betty gives Consent in sic a heartsome gate, It me frae a' my care relieves, And doubts that gart me aft look blate. Then let us gang and get the grace; For they that have an appetite Should eat; and lovers should embrace: If these be faults, 'tis nature's wyte.
# The Book of Scottish Song/Somebody 3

Somebody.
[Gibson.]
Cou'd I be glad or happy yestreen, When somebody wasna there. Cou'd I look blythe or cheery yestreen, Alas! when my heart was sair.
What need I think or care about ane, Wha maybe cares little for me;— Ay! somebody's gotten my heart unsought, An' what mair has a lassie to gi'e?
Somebody's words are wonderfu' words, They're wonderfu' words to hear; Somebody's words can lighten the heart, Or fill the e'e wi' a tear.
They may say's they like, they may do's they li'ke, An' somebody I may tine; But I'll live's I am, an' I'll dee's I am, If somebody mayna be mine.
# The Book of Scottish Song/Some love to roam

Some love to roam.
[Poetry by C. Mackay. Music by Henry Russell.]
Some love to roam o'er the dark sea's foam, Where the shrill winds whistle free; But a chosen band, in a mountain land, And a life in the woods for me. When morning beams o'er the mountain streams, Oh! merrily forth we go, To follow the stag to his slippery crag, And to chase the bounding roe.—Ho! ho! ho! ho! Some love to roam, &c.
The deer we mark in the forest dark, And the prowling wolf we track; And for right good cheer, in the wild woods here, Oh! why should a hunter lack? For with steady aim at the bounding game, And hearts that fear no foe, To the darksome glade, in the forest shade, Oh! merrily forth we go.—Ho! ho! ho! ho! Some love to roam, &c.
# The Complete Poems of Paul Laurence Dunbar/A Song (2)

A SONG
Thou art the soul of a summer's day, Thou art the breath of the rose.  But the summer is fled  And the rose is dead Where are they gone, who knows, who knows?
Thou art the blood of my heart o' hearts, Thou art my soul's repose,  But my heart grows numb  And my soul is dumb Where art thou, love, who knows, who knows?
Thou art the hope of my after years— Sun for my winter snows  But the years go by  'Neath a clouded sky. Where shall we meet, who knows, Who knows?
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 Spiritual

A SPIRITUAL
De 'cession's stahted on de gospel way,  De Capting is a-drawin' nigh: Bettah stop a-foolin' an' a-try to pray;  Lif' up yo' haid w'en de King go by!
Oh, sinnah mou'nin' in de dusty road,  Hyeah 's de minute fu' to dry yo' eye: Dey 's a moughty One a-comin' fu' to baih yo' load;  Lif' up yo' haid w'en de King go by!
Oh, widder weepin' by yo' husban's grave,  Hit 's bettah fu' to sing den sigh: Hyeah come de Mastah wid de powah to save;  Lif' up yo' haid w'en de King go by!
Oh, orphans a-weepin' lak de widder do,  An' I wish you 'd tell me why: De Mastah is a mammy an' a pappy too;  Lif' up yo' haid w'en de King go by!
Oh, Moses sot de sarpint in de wildahness  W'en de chillun had commenced to die: Some 'efused to look, but hit cuohed de res';  Lif' up yo' haid w'en de King go by!
Bow down, bow 'way down, Bow down, But lif' up yo' haid w'en de King go by!
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 Summer Pastoral

A SUMMER PASTORAL
It's hot to-day. The bees is buzzin' Kinder don't-keer-like aroun' An' fur off the warm air dances O'er the parchin' roofs in town. In the brook the cows is standin'; Childern hidin' in the hay; Can't keep none of 'em a workin', 'Cause it's hot to-day.
It's hot to-day. The sun is blazin' Like a great big ball o' fire; Seems as ef instead o' settin' It keeps mountin' higher an' higher. I'm as triflin' as the children, Though I blame them lots an' scold; I keep slippin' to the spring-house, Where the milk is rich an' cold.
The very air within its shadder Smells o' cool an' restful things, An' a roguish little robin Sits above the place an' sings. I don't mean to be a shirkin', But I linger by the way Longer, mebbe, than is needful, 'Cause it's hot to-day.
It's hot to-day. The horses stumble Half asleep across the fiel's; An' a host o' teasin' fancies O'er my burnin' senses steals,— Dreams o' cool rooms, curtains lowered, An' a sofy's temptin' look; Patter o' composin' raindrops Or the ripple of a brook.
I strike a stump! That wakes me sudden; Dreams all vanish into air. Lordy! how I chew my whiskers; 'Twouldn't do fur me to swear. But I have to be so keerful 'Bout my thoughts an' what I say; Somethin' might slip out unheeded, 'Cause it's hot to-day.
Git up, there, Suke! you, Sal, git over! Sakes alive! how I do sweat. Every stitch that I've got on me, Bet a cent, is wringin' wet. If this keeps up, I'll lose my temper. ​ Gee there, Sal, you lazy brute! Wonder who on airth this weather Could 'a' be'n got up to suit?
You, Sam, go bring a tin o' water; Dash it all, don't be so slow! 'Pears as ef you tuk an hour' 'Tween each step to stop an' blow, Think I want to stand a meltin' Out here in this b'ilin' sun, While you stop to think about it? Lift them feet o' your'n an' run.
It ain't no use; I'm plumb fetageled, Come an' put this team away. I won't plow another furrer; It's too mortal hot to-day. I ain't weak, nor I ain't lazy, But I'll stand this half day's loss 'Fore I let the devil make me
    Lose my patience an' git cross.
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 Thanksgiving Poem

A THANKSGIVING POEM
The sun hath shed its kindly light,  Our harvesting is gladly o'er Our fields have felt no killing blight,  Our bins are filled with goodly store.
From pestilence, fire, flood, and sword  We have been spared by thy decree, And now with humble hearts, O Lord,  We come to pay our thanks to thee.
We feel that had our merits been  The measure of thy gifts to us, We erring children, born of sin,  Might not now be rejoicing thus.
No deed of ours hath brought us grace;  When thou were nigh our sight was dull, We hid in trembling from thy face,  But thou, O God, wert merciful.
Thy mighty hand o'er all the land  Hath still been open to bestow Those blessings which our wants demand  From heaven, whence all blessings flow.
Thou hast, with ever watchful eye,  Looked down on us with holy care, And from thy storehouse in the sky  Hast scattered plenty everywhere.
Then lift we up our songs of praise  To thee, O Father, good and kind; To thee we consecrate our days;  Be thine the temple of each mind.
With incense sweet our thanks ascend;  Before thy works our powers pall; Though we should strive years without end,  We could not thank thee for them all.
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 Spring Wooing

A SPRING WOOING
Come on walkin' wid me, Lucy; 't ain't no time to mope erroun'  Wen de sunshine 's shoutin' glory in de sky, An' de little Johnny-Jump-Ups 's jes' a-springin' f'om de groun',  Den a-lookin' roun' to ax each othah w'y. Don' you hyeah dem cows a-mooin'? Dat 's dey howdy to de spring;  Ain' dey lookin' most oncommon satisfied? Hit 's enough to mek a body want to spread dey mouf an' sing  Jes' to see de critters all so spa'klin'-eyed.
W'y dat squir'l dat jes' run past us, ef I did n' know his tricks,  I could swaih he 'd got 'uligion jes' to-day; An' dem liza'ds slippin' back an' fofe ermong de stones an' sticks  Is a-wigglin' 'cause dey feel so awful gay. Oh, I see yo' eyes a-shinin' dough you try to mek me b'lieve  Dat you ain' so monst'ous happy 'cause you come; But I tell you dis hyeah weathah meks it moughty ha'd to 'ceive  Ef a body's soul ain' blin' an' deef an' dumb.
Robin whistlin' ovah yandah ez he buil' his little nes';  Whut you reckon dat he sayin' to his mate? He's a-sayin' dat he love huh in de wo'ds she know de bes',  An' she lookin' moughty pleased at whut he state. Now, Miss Lucy, dat ah robin sholy got his sheer o' sense,  An' de hen-bird got huh mothah-wit fu' true; So I t'ink ef you 'll ixcuse me, fu' I do' mean no erfence,  Dey 's a lesson in dem birds fu' me an' you.
I 's a-buil'in' o' my cabin, an' I 's vines erbove de do'  Fu' to kin' o' gin it sheltah f'om de sun; Gwine to have a little kitchen wid a reg'lar wooden flo',  An' dey 'll be a back verandy w'en hit 's done. I 's a-waitin' fu' you, Lucy, tek de 'zample o' de birds,  Dat 's a-lovin' an' a-matin' evahwhaih. I cain' tell you dat I loves you in de robin's music wo'ds,  But my cabin 's talkin' fu' me ovah thaih!
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 Starry Night

A STARRY NIGHT
A cloud fell down from the heavens,  And broke on the mountain's brow; It scattered the dusky fragments  All over the vale below.
The moon and the stars were anxious  To know what its fate might be; So they rushed to the azure op'ning,  And all peered down to see.
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 Summer Night

A SUMMER NIGHT
Summah is de lovin' time—  Do' keer what you say. Night is allus peart an' prime,  Bettah dan de day. Do de day is sweet an' good,  Birds a-singin' fine, Pines a-smellin' in de wood,—  But de night is mine.
Rivah whisperin' "howdy do,"  Ez it pass you by— Moon a-lookin' down at you,  Winkin' on de sly. Frogs a-croakin' f'om de pon',  Singin' bass dey fill, An' you listen way beyon'  Ol' man whippo'will.
Hush up, honey, tek my han'  Mek yo' footsteps light; Somep'n' kin' o' hol's de lan'  On a summah night. Somep'n' dat you nevah sees  An' you nevah hyeahs, But you feels it in de breeze,  Somep'n' nigh to teahs.
Somep'n' nigh to teahs? dat's so;  But hit's nigh to smiles. An' you feels it ez you go  Down de shinin' miles. Tek my han', my little dove;  Hush an' come erway— Summah is de time fu' love,  Night-time beats de day!
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 Song (1)

A SONG
On a summer's day as I sat by a stream,  A dainty maid came by,  And she blessed my sight like a rosy dream, And left me there to sigh, to sigh,  And left me there to sigh, to sigh.
On another day as I sat by the stream,  This maiden paused a while,  Then I made me bold as I told my dream, She heard it with a smile, a smile,  She heard it with a smile, a smile.
Oh, the months have fled and the autumn's red,  The maid no more goes by:  For my dream came true and the maid I wed, And now no more I sigh, I sigh,  And now no more I sigh.
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 Summer's Night

A SUMMER'S NIGHT
The night is dewy as a maiden's mouth,  The skies are bright as are a maiden's eyes,  Soft as a maiden's breath the wind that flies Up from the perfumed bosom of the South. Like sentinels, the pines stand in the park;  And hither hastening, like rakes that roam,  With lamps to light their wayward footsteps home, The fireflies come stagg'ring down the dark.
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 Sailor's Song

A SAILOR'S SONG
Oh for the breath of the briny deep, And the tug of the bellying sail, With the sea-gull's cry across the sky And a passing boatman's hail. For, be she fierce or be she gay, The sea is a famous friend alway.
Ho! for the plains where the dolphins play, And the bend of the mast and spars, And a fight at night with the wild sea-sprite When the foam has drowned the stars. And, pray, what joy can the landsman feel Like the rise and fall of a sliding keel?
Fair is the mead; the lawn is fair And the birds sing sweet on the lea; But the echo soft of a song aloft Is the strain that pleases me; And swish of rope and ring of chain Are music to men who sail the main.
Then, if you love me, let me sail While a vessel dares the deep; For the ship 's my wife, and the breath of life Are the raging gales that sweep; And when I 'm done with calm and blast, A slide o'er the side, and rest at last.
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 Book of the Thousand Nights and One Night/The Khalif Haroun er reshid and the Three Slave-Girls

First-level story, told by Shehrzad
THE KHALIF HAROUN ER RESHID AND THE THREE SLAVE-GIRLS.
The Khalif Haroun er Reshid lay once with three slave-girls, a Meccan, a Medinan and an Irakite. The Medina girl put her hand to his yard and handled it, whereupon it rose and the Meccan sprang up and drew it to herself. Quoth the other, ‘What is this unjust aggression? I have ​heard of Malik, on the authority of Ez Zuhri, who had it of Abdallah ibn Salim, on the report of Saïd ben Zeid, that the Apostle (whom God bless and preserve) said, “Whoso revivifies a dead land, it is his.”’ And the Meccan answered, ‘Sufyan tells us, on the authority of Abou Zenad, who had it of El Aarej, on the report of Abou Hureireh, that the Apostle of God said, “The game is his who catches it, not his who starts it.”’ But the Irak girl pushed them both away and taking it to herself, said, ‘This is mine, till your contention be decided.’
* ↑ Traditionists of the seventh and eighth centuries.
* ↑ Companions of the Prophet.
This work is a translation and has a separate copyright status to the applicable copyright protections of the original content.
# The Book of the Thousand Nights and One Night/The King and the Virtuous Wife

First-level story, told by Shehrzad
THE KING AND THE VIRTUOUS WIFE.
A certain King once went forth in disguise, to look into the affairs of his subjects. Presently, he came to a great village and being athirst, stopped at the door of a house and asked for water. There came out to him a fair woman, with a pitcher of water, which she gave him, and he drank. ​When he looked at her, he was ravished with her and required her of love. Now she knew him; so she brought him into the house and making him sit down, brought out a book and said to him, ‘Look in this book, whilst I order my affair and return to thee.’ So he looked into the book, and behold, it treated of the Divine prohibition against adultery and of the punishments that God hath prepared for those that do it. When he read this, his flesh quaked and he repented to God the Most High: then he called the woman and giving her the book, went away. Now her husband was absent and when he returned, she told him what had passed, whereat he was confounded and said in himself, ‘I fear lest the King’s desire have fallen upon her.’ And he dared not have to do with her after this.
After awhile, the wife told her kinsfolk of her husband’s conduct, and they complained of him to the King, saying, ‘May God advance the King! This man hired of us a piece of land, for tillage, and tilled it awhile; then left it fallow and tilled it not, neither forsook it, that we might let it to one who would till it. Indeed, harm is come to the field, and we fear its corruption, for that land, if it be not tilled, spoileth.’ Quoth the King to the man, ‘What hinders thee from tilling thy land?’ ‘May God advance the King!’ answered he. ‘It came to my knowledge that a lion entered the field, wherefore I stood in awe of him and dared not approach it, seeing that I know I cannot cope with the lion, and I stand in fear of him.’ The King understood the parable and rejoined, saying, ‘O fellow, the lion trampled not thy land, and it is good for tillage; so do thou till it and God prosper thee in it, for the lion hath done it no hurt.’ Then he bade give the man and his wife a handsome present and sent them away.
This work is a translation and has a separate copyright status to the applicable copyright protections of the original content.
# The Book of the Thousand Nights and One Night/The King’s Son and the Ogress (1)

Third-level story, contained in Story of the Physician Douban < The Fisherman and the Genie. There is another story with the same title in Volume 5 (The King’s Son and the Ogress)
THE KING’S SON AND THE OGRESS.
There was once a King’s son who was passionately fond of the chase; and his father had charged one of his Viziers to attend him wherever he went. One day, the prince ​went out to hunt, accompanied by the Vizier, and as they were going along, they saw a great wild beast, whereupon the Vizier said to the prince, ‘Up and after yonder beast!’ So the prince rode after the beast and followed it, till he was lost to sight. After awhile, the beast disappeared in the desert, and the prince found himself alone, not knowing which way to turn. Presently he came upon a damsel, weeping, and said to her, ‘Who art thou?’ Quoth she, ‘I am the daughter of one of the Kings of India, and I was journeying through this country, with a company of people, when sleep overcame me and I fell from my horse, not knowing what I did. My people did not note my fall and went on and left me; and now I am alone and bewildered.’ When the prince heard this, he had pity on her case and took her up behind himself and they rode on, till they came to some ruins; when she said to him, ‘O my lord, I wish to do an occasion here.’ So he put her down, and she entered the ruins and tarried there till he became impatient and went in search of her; when he was ware that she was an ogress, and heard her say to her children, ‘O my children, I have brought you to day a fat youth.’ ‘O mother,’ answered they, ‘bring him to us, that we may browse on him our bellyful.’ When the prince heard this their talk, he trembled in every nerve and made sure of destruction and turned back. The ogress came out after him and finding him terrified and trembling, said to him, ‘Why dost thou fear?’ Quoth he, ‘I have an enemy, of whom I am in fear.’ ‘Didst thou not say that thou wast a King’s son?’ asked she, and he answered ‘Yes.’ ‘Then,’ said she, ‘why dost thou not give thine enemy money and so appease him?’ He replied, ‘Indeed he will not be satisfied with money nor with aught but life; and I fear him and am an oppressed man.’ ‘If thou be oppressed as thou sayst,’ rejoined she, ‘ask help of God; surely He will protect thee from thine enemy and from the mischief ​thou fearest from him.’ So the prince raised his eyes to heaven and said, ‘O Thou that answerest the prayer of the distressed, when they call on Thee, and dispellest evil from them, O my God, succour me against mine enemy and turn him back from me, for Thou indeed canst do whatsoever Thou wilt.’ When the ogress heard his prayer, she departed from him and he resumed to the King his father and informed him of the Vizier’s conduct: whereupon the King sent for the latter and put him to death.
Return to Story of the Physician Douban.