OpenLLM-France/wikimedia huggingface dataset:
# The Book of Scottish Song/The want o' Siller

The want o' Siller.
[From Chambers's Journal, No. 178.—Air "Roy's Wife o' Aldivalloch."]
Come, ragged brethren o' the Nine, Join ilka honest purseless callan; The waes o' duddy doublets sing, When gousty want keeks through the hallen. It's true I've nae great heart to sing, Fuistit in auld hair-mouldy garret; But yet there's ease in dulfu' croon, Though there be little in the wallet. Oh the waefu' want o' siller, Weary fa' the want o' siller; It mak's nae what be in your pow, Gin your pouch be bare o' siller.
It's waur nor a' the waes o' life, And sair benumbs a body's noddle; For worth nor wit, without the pelf. Is never counted worth a bodle. It's no your wit, its no your lear, Though ye should on Pegasus gallop; It mak's na, gin your breeks be bare, And hinging a' in tatter-wallop.
Oh the waefu', &c.
When baugh wi' care and fell mishap, And puirtith hands a body gaunting, There's never ane to speir your ail, Gif that the penny siller's wanting. ​For now-a-days, there's nae sic things As honest hearts o' Nature's lything; There'll scarce a body look your way, Gif that the siller binna kything. Oh the waefu', &c.
Ye'll no get brose, nor breid, nor cheese, Nor social drap to weet your wyzon: What cares the polished man o' wealth, Though wyzon, wame, and a' gae gyzant? When lucky stars gi'e 's leave to sit, Ower comfort's cozy cutchac beeking; To set your very creepy stule, Baith rich and puir will aft be seeking. Oh the waefu', &c.
What, think ye, is't links hands and hearts? It's nowther beauty, wit, nor carriage; But, frae the cottage to the ha', It's siller aye that mak's the marriage. I've been in luve out ower the lugs, Like money other chiel afore me; But, 'cause my mailin was but sma', The saucy limmers did abhor me. Oh the waefu', &c.
Hale books I've wrote, baith prose and verse, And mony a roosing dedication, But nae ane owned the puir baugh chield, Sae nocht for me but grim starvation. And oh, but my ain shanks be sma', My very nose as sharp's a filler; Grim death will soon tak' me awa'— Ohone, ohone, the want o siller! Oh the waefu', &c.
# The Book of Scottish Song/The weel-tocher'd Lass

The weel-tocher’d Lass
[From Ramsay's Tea-Table Miscellany. Tune, "Kirk wad let me be."]
I was once a weel-tocher'd lass, My mither left dollars to me, But now I'm brought to a poor pass, My step-dame has gart them flee.
My father, he's aften frae hame, And she plays the deil with his gear; She neither has lawtith nor shame, And keeps the haill house in a steer.
She's barmy-faced, thriftless, and bauld, And gars me aft fret and repine; While hungry, half-naked, and cauld, I see her destroy what's mine. But soon I might hope a revenge, And soon of my sorrows be free; My poortith to plenty wad change, If she were hung up on a tree.
Quoth Ringan, wha lang time had loo'd This bonnie lass tenderlie, I'll tak' thee, sweet May, in thy snood, Gif thou wilt gae hame with me. 'Tis only yoursel' that I want; Your kindness is better to me Than a' that your stepmother, scant Of grace, now has taken frae thee.
I'm but a young farmer, it's true And ye are the sprout of a laird; But I have milk-cattle enow, And ruth of good rucks in my yard. Ye shall have naething to fash ye, Sax servants shall jouk to thee: Then kilt up thy coats my lassie, And gae thy ways hame with me.
The maiden her reason employ'd, Not thinking the offer amiss, Consented, while Ringan, o'erjoy'd, Received her with mony a kiss. And now she sits blythely singin', And joking her drunken stepdame, Delighted with her dear Ringan, That makes her goodwife at hame.
# The Book of Scottish Song/The widow's ae bit Lassie

The widow’s ae bit Lassie.
[Thomas C. Latto.—Tune, "My only jo and dearie, O."—Here first printed.]
O guess ye wha I met yestreen, On Kenly banks sae grassy, O, Wha cam' to bless my waitin' een? The widow's ae bit lassie, O. She brak my gloamin-dream sae sweet, Just whar the wimplin' burnies meet: The smother'd laugh,—I flew to greet The widow's ae bit lassie, O.
They glintit slee,—the moon and she, The widow's ae bit lassie, O, On tremblin' stream an' tremblin' me, She is a dear wee lassie, O. How rapture's pulse was beating fast, As Mary to my heart I clasp't, O bliss divine,—owre sweet to last, I've kiss'd the dear bit lassie, O.
She nestled close, like croodlin' doo, The widow's ae bit lassie, O, My cheek to hers, syne mou' to mou', The widow's ae bit lassie, O; Unto my breast again, again, I prest her guileless heart sae fain, Sae blest we're baith, now she's my ain, The widow's ae bit lassie, O.
Ye powers aboon, wha made her mine, The widow's ae bit lassie, O, My heart wad break gin I should tyne The widow's ae bit lassie, O; Our hearth shall glad the angels' sight, The lamp o' love shall lowe sae bright On me and her, my soul's delight, The widow's ae bit lassie, O.
# The Book of Scottish Song/The woods of Dunmore

The woods of Dunmore.
[Music by James Jaap.]
This lone heart is thine, lassie, charming and fair, This fond heart is thine, lassie dear. Nae warld's gear ha'e I, nae oxen nor kye, I've naething, dear lassie, save a puir heart to gi'e; Yet dinna say me na, but come, come awa', An' wander, dear lassie, 'mang the woods o' Dunmore, An' wander, dear lassie, 'mang the woods o' Dunmore.
O sweet is thy voice, lassie, charming an' fair, Enchanting thy smile, lassie dear. I'll toil aye for thee, for ae blink o' thine e'e Is pleasure mair sweet than siller to me; O dinna say me na, but come, come awa', An' wander, dear lassie, 'mang the woods o' Dunmore, An' wander, dear lassie, 'mang the woods o' Dunmore.
O come to my arms, lassie charming an' fair, Awa' wild alarms, lassie dear. This fond heart an' thine like ivy shall twine, I'll lo'e thee, dear lassie, till the day that I dee. Sae dinna say me na, but come, come awa', An' wander, dear lassie, 'mang the woods o' Dunmore, An' wander, dear lassie, 'mang the woods o' Dunmore.
# The Book of Scottish Song/The wee primrose

The wee primrose.
My love is like the wee primrose That smirks sae sweet beneath the thorn, That modest keeks out frae the leaves, An' sips the sweets frae dewy morn. I met her in my early walk, As by the verdant woods I stray'd, Whaur nought but artless melody Had ever charm'd her fragrant shade.
A burnie poppled by her bower, Whaur nature made a foggy seat— While resting there she look'd and smiled, And aye I felt my bosom beat. I press'd her, smiling, to my lips— Though she was laith, I pree'd her mou'; And oh, sae sweet, sae virgin pure!— 'Twas hinny mix'd wi' draps o' dew.
Whan gowden clouds float at the dawn, I view the spot whaur Mary dwells— That rural spot whaur spotless love Speaks to the heart which ardent swells. May nae rude haun molest her youth— May nae vile e'e disturb her hame— Whan ocht immodest enters there, May innocence put guilt to shame.
# The Book of Scottish Song/The way for to woo

The way for to woo.
[Written by Hector Macneil to a tune which he picked up in Argyleshire, and which is given in the sixth volume of Johnson's Museum. The song, however, is now adapted to the tune of "Bonnie Dundee."]
Oh tell me, oh tell me, bonnie young lassie, Oh tell me, young lassie, how for to woo? Oh tell me, oh tell me, bonnie sweet lassie, Oh tell me, sweet lassie, how for to woo? Say, maun I roose your cheeks like the morning? Lips like the roses fresh moisten'd wi' dew? Say, maun I roose your een's pawkie scorning? Oh tell me, oh tell me, how for to woo?
Far ha'e I wander'd to see thee, dear lassie! Far ha'e I ventured across the saut sea! Far ha'e I ventured ower muirland and mountain, Houseless and weary, slept cauld on the lea! Ne'er ha'e I tried yet to mak' luve to ony, For ne'er loved I ony till ance I loved you; Now we're alane in the green wood sae bonnie, Oh tell me, oh tell me, how for to woo?
What care I for your wand'ring, young laddie! What care I for your crossing the sea! It was nae for naething ye left puir young Peggy; It was for my tocher ye cam' to court me. Say, ha'e ye gowd to busk me aye gaudy? Ribbons, and pearlins, and breist-knots enew? A house that is cantie, wi' walth in't, my laddie? Without this ye never need try for to woo!
I ha'e nae gowd to busk ye aye gaudy! I canna buy pearlins and ribbons enew! I've naething to brag o' house or o' plenty! I've little to gi'e but a heart that is true. I cam' na for tocher—I ne'er heard o' ony; I never loved Peggy, nor e'er brak my vow: I've wander'd, puir fule, for a face fause as bonnie! I little thocht this was the way for to woo!
Ha'e na ye roosed my cheeks like the morning? Hae na ye roosed my cherry-red mou? Ha'e na ye come ower sea, muir, and mountain? What mair, my dear Johnnie, need ye for to woo? Far ha'e ye wander'd, I ken, my dear laddie! Now that ye've found me, there 's nae cause to rue; Wi' health we'll ha'e plenty—I'll never gang gaudy: I ne'er wish'd for mair than a heart that is true.
She hid her fair face in her true lover's bosom; The saft tear of transport fill'd ilk lover's e'e; The burnie ran sweet by their side as they sabbit, And sweet sang the mavis abune on the tree. He clasp'd her, he press'd her, he ca'd her his hinnie, And aften he tasted her hinnie-sweet mou', And aye, 'tween ilk kiss, she sigh'd to her Johnnie— Oh laddie! oh laddie! weel weel can ye woo!
# The Book of Scottish Song/The winter sat lang

The winter sat lang.
[By J. Mayne, author of "Logan Braes." See page 24.]
The winter sat lang on the spring o' the year, Our seedtime was late, and our mailing was dear; My mither tint her heart when she look'd on us a', And we thought upon them that were farest awa'; O! were they but here that are farest awa'! O! were they but here that are dear to us a'! Our cares would seem light and our sorrows but sma'. If they were but here that are far frae us a'!
​Last week, when our hopes were o'erclouded wi' fear, And nae ane at hame the dull prospect to cheer, Our Johnnie has written, frae far awa' parts, A letter that lightens and hauds up our hearts. He says, "My dear mither, though I be awa', In love and affection I'm still wi' ye a'; While I ha'e a being, ye'se aye ha'e a ha', Wi' plenty to keep out the frost and the snaw."
My mither, o'erjoy'd at this change in her state, By the bairn that she doated on early and late, Gi'es thanks, night and day, to the Giver of a', There's been naething unworthy o' him that's awa'! Then, here is to them that are far frae us a', The friend that ne'er fail'd us, though farest awa'! Health, peace, and prosperity, wait on us a'! And a blythe comin' hame to the friend that's awa'!
# The Book of Scottish Song/The wood of Craigie-lea

The wood of Craigie-lea.
[Written by Tannahill, and set to music by his friend James Barr of Kilbarchan. Both the words and air are sweet and natural. Craigie-lea lies to the north-west of Paisley, but its rural beauties have been of late years encroached on by the erection of a gas-work in its vicinity.]
Thou bonnie wood of Craigie-lea, Thou bonnie wood of Craigie-lea, Near thee I pass'd life's early day, And won my Mary's heart in thee.
The broom, the brier, the birken bush, Bloom bonnie o'er the flowery lea, An' a' the sweets that ane can wish Frae nature's hand, are strew'd on thee. Thou bonnie wood, &c.
Far ben thy dark-green planting's shade, The cushat croodles am'rously, The mavis, down thy buchted glade, Gars echo ring frae every tree. Thou bonnie wood, &c.
Awa', ye thoughtless, murd'ring gang, Wha tear the nestlings ere they flee! They'll sing you yet a canty sang, Then, O in pity let them be! Thou bonnie wood, &c.
When winter blaws in sleety showers, Frae aff the Norlan' hills sae hie, He lightly skiffs thy bonnie bowers, As laith to harm a flower in thee. Thou bonnie wood, &c. ​Though fate should drag me south the line, Or o'er the wide Atlantic sea; The happy hours I'll ever min' That I in youth ha'e spent in thee. Thou bonnie wood, &c.
# The Constitutions and Other Select Documents Illustrative of the History of France, 1789–1907/2

2. The Tennis Court Oath.
June 20, 1789. Duvergier, Lois, I, 24.
When the deputies of the Third Estate went to their hall on June 20, 1789, they found it closed to them and placards posted announcing a royal session two days later. Fearing that this foreshadowed a command from the king for separate organization and vote by order, they met in a neighboring tennis court and with practical unanimity formulated the resolution embodied in this document.
​References. James Harvey Robinson, Political Science Quarterly, X, 460-474; Von Sybel, French Revolution, I, 65-66; Cambridge Modern History, VIII, 155-156; Jaurès, Histoire socialiste, I, 246.
The National Assembly, considering that it has been summoned to determine the constitution of the kingdom, to effect the regeneration of public order, and to maintain the true principles of the monarchy; that nothing can prevent it from continuing its deliberations in whatever place it may be forced to establish itself, and lastly, that wherever its members meet together, there is the National Assembly.
Decrees that all the members of this assembly shall immediately take a solemn oath never to separate, and to reassemble wherever circumstances shall require, until the constitution of the kingdom shall be established and consolidated upon firm foundations; and that, the said oath being taken, all the members and each of them individually shall ratify by their signatures this steadfast resolution.
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 Constitutions and Other Select Documents Illustrative of the History of France, 1789–1907/14

14. The Declaration of Pilnitz
August 27, 1791. Vivenot, Kaiserpolitik Oesterreichs, I, 234. Translation, James Harvey Robinson, University of Pennsylvania Translations and Reprints.
This document was a direct result of No. 13. It seems certain that the signatories, the sovereigns of Austria and Prussia, attached but little importance to it. For them the qualifying words were the emphatic ones. This, however, was not thoroughly understood in France, and a little later the declaration was an important factor in persuading the French people that they must fight Europe in order to prevent interference with the course of the revolution in France.
​References. Clapham, Causes of the War of 1792, 76–82; Lecky, England in the Eighteenth Century, V, 556–558 (French Revolution, 326–328, 569); Von Sybel, French Revolution, 361–368: Cambridge Modern History, VIII, 398–399; Sorel, L’Europe et la révolution française, II, 252–264.
His Majesty, the Emperor, and his Majesty, the King of Prussia, having given attention to the wishes and representations of Monsieur (the brother of the King of France), and of M. le Comte d’Artois, jointly declare that they regard the present situation of His Majesty the King of France, as a matter of common interest to all the sovereigns of Europe. They trust that this interest will not fail to be recognized by the powers, whose aid is solicited, and that in consequence they will not refuse to employ, in conjunction with their said majesties, the most efficient means in proportion to their resources to place the King of France in a position to establish, with the most absolute freedom, the foundations of a monarchical form of government, which shall at once be in harmony with the rights of sovereigns and promote the welfare of the French nation. In that case [Alors et dans ce cas] their said majesties the Emperor and the King of Prussia are resolved to act promptly and in common accord with the forces necessary to obtain the desired common end.
In the meantime they will give such orders to their troops as are necessary in order that these may be in a position to be called into active service.
Leopold. Frederick William.
Pilnitz, August 27, 1791.
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 Bird Book/Flamingoes

LAMELLIROSTRAL GRALLATORES. Order VI. ODONT OGLOSS^E
FLAMINGOES. Family PHOENICOPTERIDAE
182. FLAMINGO. Phcenicopterus ruber.
Range. Tropical and sub-tropical America on the Atlantic coasts, breeding in the Bahamas and West Indies; north to Florida and casually to the South Atlantic States.
These remarkable and grotesque appearing birds attain a length of about 48 inches. The plumage varies from white to a deep rosy red. It requires several years for them to attain the perfect adult plumage, and unlike most birds, they are in the best of plumage during the winter, the colors becoming faded as the nesting season approaches. The birds are especially noticable because of the crooked, hollow, scoop-shaped bill, and the extremely long legs and neck. The feet are webbed, but more for the purpose of supporting them upon the mud flats than for use in swimming. The nests are usually built on a sandy point of an island; they are mounds of earth, grass and rubbish from one to two feet in height, the top being hollowed to receive the eggs. One or two eggs are a complete set. The shell is pale blue, but this is covered with a heavy white chalky deposit. The eggs are laid in June and July. Size 3.40x2.15.
American Flamingo
Roseate SpoonbT
# The Complete Works of Swami Vivekananda/Volume 1/Raja-Yoga
## Raja-Yoga

* Preface
* Introductory
* The First Steps
* Prana
* The Psychic Prana
* The Control Of The Psychic Prana
* Pratyahara And Dharana
* Dhyana And Samadhi
* Raja-Yoga In Brief

## Patanjali's Yoga Aphorisms

* Introduction
* Concentration: Its Spiritual Uses
* Concentration: Its Practice
* Powers
* Independence
* Appendix - References To Yoga
# The Booke of Thenseygnementes and Techynge that the Knyght of the Towre made to his Doughters/Chapter 39

OF THE SECOND WYF.
FTER this the said knyght maryed hym ageyne to another woman. They were fyue yere to geder, and thenne she passed oute of this worlde. And yf the knyght hadde be sore meuyd and sorowful of the deth of his first wyf, yet more he was of his second wyf, and wepynge came to theremyte his vncle, demenynge grete sorowe, and praide hym for this as he had done for the other, that he myght knowe where she was. And for the grete pyte that he took of hym, seynge hym in suche sorowe, wente allone in his Chappel, and there made to god his prayer & oryson. There it was shewed & reueled to hym that she shold be saued, but yͭ she shold be .c. yere within the fire of purgatory, for certayne fawtes whiche she had done, she beynge in her maryage, that was, that a squyer had leyn with her, and other grete synnes. Neuertheles she had therof many tyme be confessid, for yf she had not so doo she withoute doute hadde be dampned.
Thenne cam theremyte to the knyght, and told hym how hys wyf was saued, wherof he was ioyeful and glad. Here may ye see how that for one dedely synne she was so longe in the fyre of purgatorye, but it may well be, as the hooly man sayth, that they had done the dede ten or twelve tymes, for a certeyne and very trouthe is, for euery dedely synne confessid shalle the sowle be punysshed in purgatory the tyme and space of seuen yere. Faire doughters, take ye here good ensample how this fowll and fals delyte is dere bought, and how therof men must gyue acompte: and also of them that haue so many gownes and that so moche waste their good to be jolyf and repayre their carayn, in so moche they may haue the loke and beholdynge of the world and the plaisaunce of the folke. Now see how it happed to the knyghtis first wyf, that for her pryde and for the grete quantite of gownes and Jewelles that she hadde was loste and dampned for ​euer. And yet many one is in this world that wel haue the courage soo prowde that wel they dare bye gownes of thre or foure score Crownes, & yet thynkyng hit of lytel prys, that yf so were they must gyue to poure folke two or thre shyllynges they shold holde that ouermoche, and as halfe loste. Loke and behold ye thenne, how they that haue soo many gownes wherof they coyntyse and araye their bodyes, how ones they shalle straitly answer of them. And therfore euery good woman, after she is of estate and degree, she ought to hold and behaue her symply and honestly in her clothyng and in the quantite of hit, and gyue a parte to god, to thende she may in the other world be clothed of all ioye and glorye, as dyde the hooly ladyes and hooly vyrgyns as in their legende is rehercyd, as of seynt Elyzabeth, of saynt Katheryn, and of seynt Agathe and other mo, that gaue their gownes to the poure folke for the loue of god. And soo ought to doo cuery good woman. Now I haue tolde & recounted to yow of the two first wyues of the knyght, and herafter ye shalle here of the thyrd.
# The Booke of Thenseygnementes and Techynge that the Knyght of the Towre made to his Doughters/Chapter 4

HOW WE OUGHT TO PRAYE FOR THEM THAT BEN DEDE.
T happed in suche wyse that this lord dyd do espye where as this Damoyselle was entred in to an hoole where as she entrid & rested there for drede of hym, & that was in a busshe. And she sayd vygylles for the dede men. And this grete lord entryd in to the hoole, and sawe her there, and wende anone to haue accomplysshyd his fowle delyte. But when he supposed to haue taken her, hym semed that he sawe more than ten thousand prysonners buryed that kepte her; and had of them so grete fere and drede anon he torned and fled, & sente to her word that for certayne he wolde neuer pursewe her more for suche fayte, and that she had ouer grete a companye that kepte her. And after he cam and spak to her and demaunded of her what was the grete companye that was with her. And she said that she knewe of no thyng at that tyme whan he cam, sauf that thēne she said the vygylle for them that were dede. And thenne thought the lord wel that they were they that kepte her. And therfor this is a fayre example to praye for them that ben departed oute of this world at al tymes.
# The Booke of Thenseygnementes and Techynge that the Knyght of the Towre made to his Doughters/Chapter 32

OF THE VYCES THAT RENNE & BEN IN MANY ONE.
Y faire doughters, he that the beste or good seeth, and taketh the bad or euylle, it is good right that after therof he hym repente. I say so by cause that we haue thorugh this world many euylle and badde Ensamples and mo ther be that rather and soner taken the bad than the best or good. They that soo doo ben fooles, for they put them self oute of the ryght way, that is, oute of the commaundements of god, whiche all good and also oure saluacion techeth vs; and he gyueth vs it both by writynges and by lawe, the whiche we hold and sette but litil by. For we see that the moost parte of the world rewleth and guydeth them self after the carnal or flesshely delyte and wylle, and ben ful of veyne glorye and dampnable worship. The one is prowde for his scyence, the other for his Rychesse, somme for their gentylnesse. Other be that ben enuyous of the goodes and worship that they see in other folk more than in them self. Other be that ben yrous and kepe euylle wylle in their hertes to the folk. Other be that ben so esprysed and brennynge in the hete and stynkyng fyre of lecherye that they be wors than wylde beestes. Other ben glotouns & lecherous, whiche taken ouer moche good wynes and of delycate metes. Other also that ben couetous to haue other mennes goode. Other be that ben theues, vsurers, Rauynours, traytours, and backbyters. This maner of folk, thenne, sheweth wel that they be sones and disciples of the deuylle, for wel they ensyewe and folowe the doctryne and faites of hym their mayster, by whoos counceylle and temptacion they be ioyned with synne and lyeng in the way of dampnacion, and therin the deuyll holdeth them faste bounden vnto the tyme of shewynges of very and pure confession. And of this manere the moost parte of the world is entatched and ouercome.