OpenLLM-France/wikimedia huggingface dataset:
# The Booke of Thenseygnementes and Techynge that the Knyght of the Towre made to his Doughters/Chapter 33

OF THE GOOD CONDYCIONS THAT BEN IN DYUERSE AND MANY MANERS AMONGE FOLKE.
LSO ther be other that ben sage and wyse, whiche haue al their herte and truste in god. And for the loue and drede that they haue toward hym they hold them clenly and fro synne, alwey fyghtynge ageynste the fire of lecherye. Also they hold them sobirly fro etynge of delycious metes and wynes, kepyng good dyete, for suche delycates ben but the bronde that lyghteth and sparkleth the fire of lecherye. Other ther ben that haue grace, wytte, and suffisaunce ageynste couetyse, and other that haue a fre hert and pyteous vpon other men's peynes, and ben trewe and rightful toward their neyghbours, and also ben peasyble. And therfor oure lord god maketh them to lyue in pees and peasybly, for who that the euyll and the Ryote seketh, anguysshe and doloure shal soone folowe hym. Many men by their grete jre and angre beten them self with their owne staf, and euery day ben aboute to purchace to them self grete peyne and sorowe. And therfore oure lord God in the Euangely blesseth alle them that ben debonaire and peasyble of herte. Alle suche folke that so cĺerly and feruently byhauen and mayntene them self in the loue and drede of god and of theyr neighbours shewe wel that they be wel lyke theyr mayster, that is, god the fader, of whome they holden and kepe the hooly commaundementes as hooly chirche techeth them, & they haue a fre herte to witholde them after thexamplayre of his sone, whiche is thexemplaire of life and of ioye perdurable, and is the swete welle or fountayn wherynne men maye fynde alle goodnesse and sauement. And therfore, fayre doughters, haue ye euer youre herte in hym, and loue and drede hym, and he shalle saue yow fro alle peryles and fro all euylle temptacions. Wherfore, my faire doughters, I ​wylle shewe and declare vnto yow by this book the trewe women and good ladyes that oure lord god preyse so moche in his byble, by whoos hooly dedes and operacions were and shalle be euermore preysed, wherby ye may take good Ensample of honest and clenly lyuynge. And also I shalle shewe yow somme euyl wymmen that were furyous and replenysshed of alle malyce, the whiche fynysshed theyr lyf in grete sorowe and heuynesse, to thende ye take of them goode Ensample to kepe yow fro all euylle and fro the perdycyon wher as they fallen in.
# The Booke of Thenseygnementes and Techynge that the Knyght of the Towre made to his Doughters/Chapter 34

THENSAMPLE OF EUE OURE FIRST MODER.
HE first ensample of euyll and of synne, wherby the deth is come and entred in to this world, cam by Eue our first moder, that lytell kepte the commaundement of god, and the worship wherin he had enhaunced and put her. For he hadde made her lady of alle thynges lyuyng that were vnder the heuen, whiche al were obeyeng to her. And yf she had not falle in to the synne of inobedyence, there had be no fysshe in the see, ne beest on therthe, ne byrde in thayer, but that they had al be vnder her obeisaunce & at her will myght haue take them, and dyuyse & haue them where someuer she wold. Also she shold haue had children without ony dolour or peyne, & neuer she shold haue had honger ne thurst, nother cold ne hete, trauaylle ne sekenesse, tristesse or heuynesse of herte, ne erthely deth. No water myght haue drouned her, ne fyre myght haue conbusced or brente her, ne glauye or wepen myght haue hurte her, no thyng myght ennoye her. Thenne loke we and thynke how a synne alone withoute ony more was cause to putt her fro thys grete honoure and worshyp and make her falle so lowe and in suche seruage. For she lost all, that is before rehercyd only for the synne of inobedyence. Loke ye wel thenne that ye kepe yow fro it, as I trust in god ye shall, remembrynge this Ensample. And knowe ye that the synne of oure first moder Eue, cam by euylle and shrewed aqueyntaunce by cause she helde parlement with the serpente, whiche as the Hystorye sayth, hadde a face ryght fayre lyke the face of a woman and spack ryght mekely. She herd hym with alle her wylle and pryuely, where inne she dyde lyke a foole. For yf at the begynnynge she hadde not herde hym, but hadde come to her lord, she hadde dyscomfyted and ouercome hym to grete shame. And soo the foole, herynge of hym, tourned her in to grete losse & damage. And therfore, my faire doughters, it is not good to here ​ folke that ben in theyr speche blandysshynge and castynge many flaterynge wordes, for they bene fulle of decepcion. The Serpente fould Eue ferre froo her lord and allone, wherfore atte his beste leyser he shewed her his deceyuable purpos and false langage, for the whiche cause it is not good to be. alone with ony other withoute he be of his next parente or kynrede. Not withstandynge, I saye not but men may wel bere honoure to euery one after he is worthy, but men put more his honoure and worship in jeopardy and daunger by answere to moche, than by fewe and short answere, for one word bryngeth in another.
# The Booke of Thenseygnementes and Techynge that the Knyght of the Towre made to his Doughters/Chapter 36

HOW THE YONG LADYES WERE SCORNED AND MOCKED OF THE OLDE & AUNCYENT.
T befelle that many ladyes and damoysels were come at the weddyng of a maide. As they were goyng toward the place where as the dyner sholde be, they found a passynge fowle wey within a medowe. Thenne said the yong lady, "We shalle wel go thorugh this medowe and leue the hyhe waye." The Auncyent and wyse said they shold go the hyhe way, for it was the best and more sure goynge, and moost drye. The yong ladyes, that ful were of their wylle, wold not folowe them, and thought they shold be bifore them at the said place. And soo they tooke their wey thorugh the medowe, where were old cloddes all roten. And as they were vpon them they brake vnder theyr feet, and soo they felle in the myere and dyrte vnto the knees, and with grete peyne cam they oute ageyne, and took the hyghe weye. They made clene their hosen and gownes with theyr knyues the best they couthe. So long they were in wasshyng of their hoses and gownes that they myght not come to the begynnyng of the dyner. Euery one demaunded & asked after them, but no body couth tell of them. At the last they cam, as the fyrst mes or cours was eten, & after they had taken their refectiō & well drōken, they beganne to telle and recounte how they were falle in the myre vnto the knees to. "Ye," said thenne a good auncyent and wyse lady that was come by the hyhe weye, "Ye wend to take the shortest way to thende ye myght be the sonner & fyrst at the place, & wold not folowe vs. Hit is wel bestowed, for I telle yow for certayne that some wene to auaūce them self, that hyndreth them, and suche one is that weneth to be the first and formest that ofte fyndeth her the last of all." She gaf them these two notables, to thende they shold know their faute, for as saith the said holy ​man, thus is hit of this worlde,—they that first may haue noueltees of the world, wene to doo wel and be therfore enhaunced and tofore other ben holden and wysshed, but as for one that holdeth hit wel done, there ben ten that maken of hit. For suche one preyseth their doynge before them, that behynde their back putteth out his tonge, scornynge and mockyng them.
# The Booke of Thenseygnementes and Techynge that the Knyght of the Towre made to his Doughters/Chapter 38

OF THE GOOD KNYGHT THAT HAD THRE WYUES, AND OF THEIR LYUES.
AYRE doughters, I wold ye couthe and wel withheld the example of a knyght that had thre wyues. A knyght was somtyme, a right good man and of good and honest lyuynge, whiche had an Heremyte to his vncle, a good and hooly man, and of relygyous lyf. This knyght and his first wyf, whiche he moche loued, were but a lytel space of tyme to geder. For the deth that all consumeth and destroyeth tooke her, wherof the knyght was so ful of sorowe that nyghe he deyde therof. He ne wyste where to seke ony comforte, sauf only to the Heremyte his vncle, that he knew for a holy man. He cam to hym mournyng and wepynge, waylynge and regretyng his wyf. The hooly man comforted hym in the best maner and wyse that he couthe, and at the last the knight preid hym that he wolde pray god for hym, that he myght knowe whether she was dampned or saued. The hooly man hadde pyte of his neuewe, and went to his Chappel, and there he made his prayer to god and requyred that it myst please hym to shewe where she was. And after he had be long tyme in oryson, he fylle a slepe, and scone after hym thought he sawe the poure sowle before seynt Mychael tharchaungel, and the fende at the other syde, and was in a balaunce, and her good dedes with her. And at the other side was the deuyll with all hyr euyll dedes, whiche greued & troubled her sore. It were her gounes that were of moche fyn cloth, & furred of calabre, letuce, & ermyn. And the enuy or deuylle cryed with a hyghe voys & said, "Sire, this woman had ten paire of gownes long and short, and ye know wel she had with half of them ynough, that is, a long gowne, two kyrtells, & two cottes hardyes or two short gownes, & therwith she myght haue be pleasid and suffised, as a good & symple lady, and after god & right she hath had of ​them to moche, by the half; & of the valewe of one of her gownes, .l. poure peple had had .l. ellys of burell or fryse, whiche haue suffred suche cold & such mesease about hem, and yet she neuer took pyte on them." Thenne took the deuyl her gownes, rynges, & jewelles y she had had of the men by loue, also alle the vayne and euylle wordes that she hadde sayd of other by enuye and taken awey their good renommee, for ouermoche she was enuyous and of euyll talkyng, and no synne that she had done he lefte behynde, but al this togeder he dyde put in the balaunce. And weyed they were to her good dedes, but moche more they weyed than dyde all the good that she euer hadde done. And thus took her the deuylle, whiche dyde her to endowe her gownes that were thenne brennyng as fire and had her within in to helle. And the power sowle cryed & sorowed pyteously. Thenne awaked the hooly heremyte, and tolde part of this aduysion to the knyght his neuewe, and comaunded hym and charged that all her gownes shold be gyuen for goddes sake to poure folke.
OF THE GOOD KNYGHT THAT HAD THRE WYUES, & OF THEIR LYUES
# The Bird of Time/Indian Folk-Songs/Bangle-sellers

Bangle-sellers
Bangle-sellers are we who bear Our shining loads to the temple fair. . . . Who will buy these delicate, bright Rainbow-tinted circles of light? Lustrous tokens of radiant lives, For happy daughters and happy wives.
Some are meet for a maiden's wrist, Silver and blue as the mountain-mist, Some are flushed like the buds that dream On the tranquil brow of a woodland stream; Some are aglow with the bloom that cleaves To the limpid glory of new-born leaves.
Some are like fields of sunlit corn, Meet for a bride on her bridal morn, Some, like the flame of her marriage fire, Or rich with the hue of her heart's desire, Tinkling, luminous, tender, and clear, Like her bridal laughter and bridal tear.
Some are purple and gold-flecked grey, For her who has journeyed thro' life midway, Whose hands have cherished, whose love has blest And cradled fair sons on her faithful breast, Who serves her household in fruitful pride, And worships the gods at her husband's side.
# The Bird of Time/Indian Folk-Songs/Slumber Song for Sunalini

Slumber Song for Sunalini In a Bengalee metre
Where the golden, glowing Champak-buds are blowing, By the swiftly-flowing streams, Now, when day is dying, There are fairies flying Scattering a cloud of dreams.
Slumber-spirits winging Thro' the forest singing, Flutter hither bringing soon, Baby-visions sheeny For my Sunalini . . . Hush thee, O my pretty moon!
Sweet, the saints shall bless thee . . . Hush, mine arms caress thee,
Hush, my heart doth press thee, sleep, Till the red dawn dances Breaking thy soft trances, Sleep, my Sunalini, sleep!
# The Bird of Time/Indian Folk-Songs/Songs of my City 2

II. In the Bazaars of Hyderabad To a tune of the Bazaars
What do you sell, O ye merchants? Richly your wares are displayed.
Turbans of crimson and silver, Tunics of purple brocade, Mirrors with panels of amber, Daggers with handles of jade.
What do you weigh, O ye vendors? Saffron and lentil and rice. What do you grind, O ye maidens? Sandalwood, henna, and spice. What do you call, O ye pedlars? Chessmen and ivory dice.
What do you make, O ye goldsmiths? Wristlet and anklet and ring,
Bells for the feet of blue pigeons, Frail as a dragon-fly's wing, Girdles of gold for the dancers, Scabbards of gold for the king.
What do you cry, O ye fruitmen? Citron, pomegranate, and plum. What do you play, O musicians? Cithār, sarangī, and drum. What do you chant, O magicians? Spells for the æons to come.
What do you weave, O ye flower-girls With tassels of azure and red?
Crowns for the brow of a bridegroom, Chaplets to garland his bed, Sheets of white blossoms new-gathered To perfume the sleep of the dead.
# The Bird of Time/Indian Folk-Songs/Village Song

Village Song
Full are my pitchers and far to carry, Lone is the way and long, Why, O why was I tempted to tarry Lured by the boatmen's song? Swiftly the shadows of night are falling, Hear, O hear, is the white crane calling, Is it the wild owl's cry? There are no tender moonbeams to light me, If in the darkness a serpent should bite me, Or if an evil spirit should smite me, Rām re Rām! I shall die.
My brother will murmur "Why doth she linger?" My mother will wait and weep, Saying, "O safe may the great gods bring her, The Jamuna's waters are deep." . . .
The Jamuna's waters rush by so quickly, The shadows of evening gather so thickly, Like black birds in the sky. . . . O! if the storm breaks, what will betide me? Safe from the lightning where shall I hide me? Unless Thou succour my footsteps and guide me, Rām re Rām! I shall die.
# The Bird of Time/Indian Folk-Songs/Hymn to Indra, Lord of Rain

Hymn to Indra, Lord of Rain
Men's Voices: O Thou, who rousest the voice of the thunder, And biddest the storms to awake from their sleep, Who breakest the strength of the mountains asunder, And cleavest the manifold pride of the deep! Thou, who with bountiful torrent and river Dost nourish the heart of the forest and plain, Withhold not Thy gifts O Omnipotent Giver! Hearken, O Lord of Rain!
Women's Voices: O Thou, who wieldest Thy deathless dominion O'er mutable legions of earth and the sky, Who grantest the eagle the joy of her pinion, And teachest the young of the koel to fly!
Thou who art mighty to succour and cherish, Who savest from sorrow and shieldest from pain, Withhold not Thy merciful love, or we perish, Hearken, O Lord of Rain!
# The Bird of Time/Indian Folk-Songs/Song of Radha the Milkmaid

Song of Radha the Milkmaid
I carried my curds to the Mathura fair. . . . How softly the heifers were lowing. . . . I wanted to cry "Who will buy, who will buy These curds that are white as the clouds in the sky When the breezes of Shrawan are blowing?" But my heart was so full of your beauty, Beloved, They laughed as I cried without knowing: Govinda! Govinda! Govinda! Govinda! . . . How softly the river was flowing!
I carried my pots to the Mathura tide. . . . How gaily the rowers were rowing! . . . My comrades called "Ho! let us dance, let us sing And wear saffron garments to welcome the spring,
And pluck the new buds that are blowing." But my heart was so full of your music, Beloved, They mocked when I cried without knowing: Govinda! Govinda! Govinda! Govinda! . . . How gaily the river was flowing!
I carried my gifts to the Mathura shrine. . . . How brightly the torches were glowing! . . . I folded my hands at the altars to pray "O shining Ones guard us by night and by day"— And loudly the conch shells were blowing. But my heart was so lost in your worship, Beloved, They were wroth when I cried without knowing: Govinda! Govinda! Govinda! Govinda! . . . How brightly the river was flowing!
Mathura is the chief centre of the mystic worship of Khrishna, the Divine Cowherd and Musician—the "Divine Beloved" of every Hindu heart. He is also called Govinda.
# The Bird of Time/Indian Folk-Songs/The Festival of Serpents

The Festival of Serpents
Shining ones awake, we seek your chosen temples In caves and sheltering sandhills and sacred banyan roots; O lift your dreaming heads from their trance of ageless wisdom, And weave your mystic measures to the melody of flutes.
We bring you milk and maize, wild figs and golden honey, And kindle fragrant incense to hallow all the air, With fasting lips we pray, with fervent hearts we praise you, O bless our lowly offerings and hearken to our prayer.
Guard our helpless lives and guide our patient labours, And cherish our dear vision like the jewels in your crests; O spread your hooded watch for the safety of our slumbers, And soothe the troubled longings that clamour in our breasts.
Swift are ye as streams and soundless as the dewfall, Subtle as the lightning and splendid as the sun; Seers are ye and symbols of the ancient silence, Where life and death and sorrow and ecstasy are one.
# The Bird of Time/Indian Folk-Songs/Songs of my City 1

Songs of my City I. In a Latticed Balcony
How shall I feed thee, Beloved? On golden-red honey and fruit. How shall I please thee, Beloved? With th' voice of the cymbal and lute.
How shall I garland thy tresses? With pearls from the jessamine close. How shall I perfume thy fingers? With th' soul of the keora and rose.
How shall I deck thee, O Dearest? In hues of the peacock and dove. How shall I woo thee, O Dearest? With the delicate silence of love.
# The Bird of Time/Indian Folk-Songs/Spinning Song

Spinning Song
Pamdini:
My sisters plucked green leaves at morn To deck the garden swing, And donned their shining golden veils For the Festival of Spring. . . . But sweeter than the new-blown vines, And the call of nesting birds Are the tendrils of your hair, Beloved, And the music of your words.
Mayura: My sisters sat beside the hearth Kneading the saffron cakes, They gathered honey from the hives For the Festival of Snakes. . . .
Why should I wake the jewelled lords With offerings or vows, Who wear the glory of your love Like a jewel on my brows?
Sarasvati: My sisters sang at evenfall A hymn of ancient rites, And kindled rows of silver lamps For the Festival of Lights. . . . But I leaned against the lattice-door To watch the kindling skies, And praised the gracious gods, Beloved, For the beauty of your eyes.
The Festivals are known respectively as the Vasant Panchami, Nagpanchami, and Depavali.
# The Complete Works of Swami Vivekananda/Volume 7/Epistles - Third Series/IL Mother

IL
1719 TURK STREET,
SAN FRANCISCO,
17th March, 1900.
DEAR MOTHER (Mrs. Leggett.),
I had a letter from Joe asking me to send my signature on four slips of paper, so that Mr. Leggett may put my money in the bank for me. As I cannot possibly reach her in time, I send the slips to you.
I am getting better in health and doing financially something. I am quite satisfied. I am not at all sorry that more people did not respond to your call. I knew they would not. But I am eternally thankful to you for all your kindness. May all blessings follow you and yours for ever.
It is better that my mail be sent to 1231 Pine Street, C/o the Home of Truth. For though I be moving about, that place is a permanent establishment, and the people there are very kind to me.
I am so glad to learn that you are very well now. Mrs. Melton has left Los Angeles — I am informed by Mrs. Blodgett. Has she gone to New York? Dr. and Mrs. Hiller came back to San Francisco day before yesterday. They declare themselves very much helped by Mrs. Melton. Mrs. Hiller expects to get completely cured in a short time.
I had a number of lectures here already and in Oakland. The Oakland lectures paid well. The first week in San Francisco was not paying, this week is. Hope the next week will pay also. I am so glad to hear the nice arrangement made by Mr. Leggett for the Vedanta Society. He is so good.
With all love,
Yours,
VIVEKANANDA.
PS. Do you know anything about Turiyananda? Has he got completely cured?
V.
# The Complete Works of Swami Vivekananda/Volume 7/Epistles - Third Series/L Mother

L
1719 TURK STREET,
SAN FRANCISCO,
7th April, 1900.
DEAR MOTHER (Mrs. Leggett.),
Accept my congratulations for the news of the cause of the wound being completely removed. I have no doubt of your being perfectly cured this time.
Your very kind note cheered me a good deal. I do not mind at all whether people come round to help me or not; I am becoming calm and less worried.
Kindly convey my best love to Mrs. Melton. I am sure to recover in the long run. My health has been improving in the main, though there are occasional relapses. Each relapse becoming less, both in tone and in time.
It is just like you to have Turiyananda and Siri treated. The Lord has blessed you for your great heart. May all blessings ever follow you and yours.
It is perfectly true that I should go to France and work on French. I hope to reach France in July or earlier. Mother knows. May all good ever follow you, is the constant prayer of
Your son,
VIVEKANANDA.
# The Complete Works of Swami Vivekananda/Volume 7/Epistles - Third Series/I Sir

I
(Translated from Bengali)
Glory to Ramakrishna!
BAIDYANATH,
25th December, 1889.
DEAR SIR (Shri Balaram Bose),
I have been staying for the last few days at Baidyanath in Purna Babu's Lodge. It is not so cold, and my health too is indifferent. I am suffering from indigestion, probably due to excess of iron in the water. I have found nothing agreeable here — neither the place, nor the season, nor the company. I leave for Varanasi tomorrow. Achyutananda stopped at Govinda Chaudhury's place at Deoghar, and the latter, as soon as he got news of us, earnestly insisted on our becoming his guests. Finally, he met us once again and prevailed on us to accede to his request. The man is a great worker, but has a number of women with him — old women most of them, of the ordinary Vaishnava type. . . . His clerks too revere us much; some of them are very much ill-disposed towards him, and they spoke of his misdeeds. Incidentally, I raised the topic of __. You have many wrong ideas or doubts about her; hence I write all this after particular investigation. Even the aged clerks of this establishment highly respect and revere her. She came to stop with __ while she was a mere child, and ever lived as his wife. . . . Everyone admits in one voice that her character is spotless. She was all along a perfectly chaste woman and never behaved with __ in any relation but that of wife to husband, and she was absolutely faithful. She came at too early an age to have incurred any moral taint. After she had separated from __, she wrote to him to say that she had never treated him as anything but her husband, but that it was impossible for her to live with a man with a loose character. His old office-bearers too believe him to be satanic in character; but they consider __ a Devi (angel), and remark that it was following her departure that __ lost all sense of shame.
My object in writing all this is that formerly I was not a believer in the tale of the lady's early life. The idea that there might be such purity in the midst of a relation which society does not recognise, I used to consider as romance. But after thorough investigation I have come to know that it is all right. She is very pure, pure from her infancy — I have not the least doubt about it. For entertaining those doubts, you and I and everyone are guilty to her; I make repeated salutations to her, and ask her pardon for my guilt. She is not a liar.
I take this opportunity to record that such courage is impossible in a lying and unchaste woman. I have also been told that she had a lifelong ardent faith in religion also.
Well, your disease is not yet improving! I don't think this is a place for patients unless one is ready to spend a good deal of money. Please think out some judicious course. Here every article will have to be procured from elsewhere.
Yours sincerely,
VIVEKANANDA.