OpenLLM-France/wikimedia huggingface dataset:
# The Book of Scottish Song/Farewell, ye Streams

Farewell, ye Streams.
[Cunningham.—Air, "Lassie wi' the Yellow Coatie."]
Farewell, ye streams, sae dear to me, My bonnie Cluden, Nith, an' Dee; Ye burns that row sae bonnilie, Your siller waves nae mair I'll see. Yet tho' frae your green banks I'm driven, My saul away could ne'er be riven; For still she lifts her een to heaven, An' sighs to be again with thee.
Ye canty bards ayont the Tweed, Your skins wi' claes o' tartan cleed, An' lilt alang the verdant mead, Or blythly on your whistles blaw; An' sing auld Scotia's barns an' ha's; Her bourtree dykes an' mossy wa's; Her faulds, her bughts, an' birken shaws, Whar love an' freedom sweetens a'.
Sing o' her carles, teuch an' auld; Her carlines grim, that flyte an' scauld; Her wabsters blythe, an' souters bauld; Her flock an' herds sae fair to see. Sing o' her mountains, bleak an' high; Her fords, whar neighrin' kelpies ply; Her glens, the haunts o' rural joy; Her lasses lilting o'er the lea.
To you the darling theme belangs, That frae my heart exulting spangs; O mind, amang your bonnie sangs, The lads that bled for liberty. Think on our auld forbears o' yore, Wha dy'd the muirs wi' hostile gore; Wha slavery's bands indignant tore, An' bravely fell for you an' me.
My gallant brithers, brave an' bauld, Wha haud the pleugh, or wake the fauld, Until your dearest bluid rin cauld, Aye true unto your country be. Wi' daring look her durk she drew, An' coost a mither's e'e on you; Then letna onie spulzien crew Her dear-bought freedom wrest frae thee.
# The Book of Scottish Song/Farewell to Avondale

Farewell to Avondale.
[Andrew Simson.]
Farewell, ye vales where Avon flows, Farewell, ye hills that rise around, Farewell, abodes of sweet repose, Where innocence and peace abound. No more beside your streams I'll stray, Nor pu' the wild flowers as they blaw; No longer listen to the lay, That's carol'd through the birken shaw.
Farewell, Pomilion's flowery braes, Whose murmuring rills so sweetly fa', Where aft I've spent the summer days, When sorrow's hand was far awa'! Thou'st listen'd to the lover's wail, As am'rously thou glided through; Thou'st listen'd to my artless tale, But never heard'st a tale so true.
Farewell, thou dear ungratefii' maid, Thou'lt mind me when I'm far awa'; And but for thee, I might have staid, To breathe the gales that round thee blaw. Thou knew'st my heart was a' thy ain, And thine thou vow'dst was mine alone; But cursed gold has made us twain, Whom heaven had fated to be one.
Farewell, thou still beloved maid, Love, rage, and grief, my soul disarms; For never, never could I've staid, To see thee in another's arms. No more by Avon's streams we'll stray, Nor pu' the wild flowers as they blaw; No longer listen to the lay, That's carol'd through the birken shaw.
# The Army and Navy Hymnal/Hymns/Beneath the Cross of Jesus

* Beneath the cross of Jesus I fain would take my stand, The shdow of a mighty rock Within a weary land; A home within the wilderness, A rest upon the way, From the burning of the noontide heat, And the burden of the day.
* Upon that cross of Jesus Mine eye at times can see The very dying form of One Who suffered there for me; And from my smitten heart with tears Two wonders I confess,— The wonders of his glorious love And my unworthiness.
* I take, O cross, thy shadow For my abiding place; I ask no other sunshine than The sunshine of his face; Content to let the world go by, To know no gain nor loss My sinful self my only shame, My glory all the cross. Amen
# The Army and Navy Hymnal/Hymns/Break Thou the Bread of Life

Lathbury wrote the first two verses in 1877; Groves added the third verse as well as an additional fourth which was published posthumously in 1913.
* Break thou the bread of life, Dear lord to me, As thou didst break the loaves Beside the sea; Beyond the sacred page I seek thee, Lord; My spirit pants for thee, O living Word!
* Bless thou the truth, dear Lord, To me, to me, As thou didst bless the bread by Galilee; Then shall all bondage cease, All fetters fall; And I shall find my peace, My All-in-All.
* Thou art the Bread of Life, O Lord, to me; Thy holy Word the truth That saveth me; Give me to eat and live With thee above; Teach me to love thy truth, For thou art love. Amen
Copyright by J. H. Vincent. Used by permission
# The Army and Navy Hymnal/Hymns/Children of the Heavenly King

The tune is from Pleyel's 4th Quartet, Op. 7
Layout 2
| | Children of the Heavenly King | 185 |
| | (PLEYEL'S HYMN. 7, 7, 7, 7) | 185 |
| John Cennick, 1742 Arranged from Ignaz J. Pleyel, 1790 |||
| A musical score should appear at this position in the text. See Help:Sheet music for formatting instructions |||
* Chil-dren of the heavenly King, As we journey, sweetly sing; Sing your Saviour's worthy praise, Glorious in his works and ways.
* We are traveling home to God, In the way the Fathers trod; They are happy now, and we Soon their happiness shall see.
* Lift your eyes, ye sons of light, Zion's city is in sight; There our endless home shall be, There our Lord we soon shall see.
* Lord, obediently we go, Gladly leaving all below; Only thou our Leader be, And we still will follow thee. Amen.
# The Army and Navy Hymnal/Hymns/Be Not Dismayed Whate'er Betide

* Be not dismayed whater'r betide, God will take care of you; Be-neath his wings of love a-bide, God will take care of you; Refrain God will take care of you, Through e-very day, O'er all the way, He will take care of you, God will take care of you.
* Thro' days of toil when heart doth fail, God will take care of you; When dangers fierce upon your path assail, God will take care of you. God will take care of you, &c.
* All you may need he will provide, God will take care of you; Nothing you ask will be deined, God will take care of you. God will take care of you, &c.
* No matter what may be the test, God will take care of you; Lean, weary one upon his breast, God will take care of you. God will take care of you, &c.
# The Army and Navy Hymnal/Hymns/Blessed Assurance, Jesus Is Mine

Layout 2
| 212 | Blessed Assurance, Jesus Is Mine |
| 212 | (BLESSED ASSURANCE. 9,10,9,9. With Refrain) |
| Fanny J. Crosby, 1820-1915 Mrs. Joseph F. Knapp, 1873 |||
| A musical score should appear at this position in the text. See Help:Sheet music for formatting instructions |||
* Blessed assurance, Jesus is mine! O what a foretaste of glory divine! Heir of salvation, purchased of God, Born of his Spirit, washed in his blood. Refrain This is my story, this is my song, Praising my Saviour all the day long; This is my story, this is my song, Praising my Saviour all the day long. (Last verse:Amen.)
* Perfect submission, perfect delight, Visions of rapture now burst on my sight. Angels descending, bring from above Echoes of mercy, whispers of love. Refrain
* Perfect submission, all is at rest, I in my Saviour am happy and blest, Watching and waiting, looking above, Filled with his goodness, lost in his love. Refrain
# The Army and Navy Hymnal/Hymns/Brightly Beams Our Father's Mercy

Layout 2
| | Brightly Beams Our Father's Mercy | 139 |
| | (LOWER LIGHTS. 8, 7, 8, 7. With Refrain) | 139 |
| Philip P. Bliss, 1877 Philip P. Bliss, 1877 |||
| A musical score should appear at this position in the text. See Help:Sheet music for formatting instructions |||
* Brightly beams our Father's mercy From his lighthouse evermore But to us he gives the keeping Of the lights along the shore Refrain Let the lower lights be burning! Send a gleam across the wave! Some poor fainting, struggling sea-man You may rescue, you may save.
* Dark the night of sin has settled, Loud the angry billows roar; Eager eyes are watching longing For the lights along the shore Refrain
* Trim your feeble lamp my brother Some poor sailor, tempest tossed Trying now to make the harbor, In the darkness may be lost, Refrain Amen
# The Army and Navy Hymnal/Hymns/Away in a Manger

This hymn is commonly attributed to Martin Luther, but this attribution appears to be false. It may have been written for the occasion of Luther's 400th birthday in 1883.
The musical setting given here is generally titled "Mueller", but is now believed to have been composed by James Ramsey Murray, who published this hymn in Dainty Songs for Little Lads and Lasses, 1887.
* Away in a manger, No crib for his bed, The little Lord Jesus Laid down his sweet head, The stars in the sky Looked down where he lay, The little Lord Jesus, Asleep in the hay.
* The cattle are lowing, The poor baby wakes, But little Lord Jesus, No crying he makes. I love thee, Lord Jesus, Look down from the sky, And stay by my side Until morning is nigh. A-men
# The Army and Navy Hymnal/Hymns/Blest Be the Tie That Binds

Layout 2
| 170 | Blest Be the Tie That Binds |
| 170 | (DENNIS. S. M.) |
| John Fawcett, 1772 Arranged from Hans G. Nägeli By Lowell Mason, 1845 |||
| A musical score should appear at this position in the text. See Help:Sheet music for formatting instructions |||
* Blest be the tie that binds Our hearts in Christan love: The fellowship of kindred minds Is like to that above
* Be - fore our Father's throne We pour our ardent prayers; Our fears, our hopes, our aims, are one, Our comforts and our cares.
* We share our mutal woes; Our mutual burdens bear; And often for each other flows The sympathizing tear.
* When we asunder part, It gives us inward pain; But we shall still be joined in heart And hope to meet again.
* From sorrow toil, and pain, And sin, we shall be free, And perfect love and friendship reign Thro' all eternity. Amen
# The Army and Navy Hymnal/Hymns/Bread of the World

Layout 2
| 171 | Bread of the World |
| 171 | (EUCHARIST. 9,8,9,8) |
| Reginald Heber, 1826 John S. B. Hodges, 1869 |||
| A musical score should appear at this position in the text. See Help:Sheet music for formatting instructions |||
* Bread of the world, in mercy broken Wine of the the soul in mercy shed, By whom the words of lie were spoken, And in whose death are sins are dead;
* Look on the heart by sorrow broken, Look on the tears by sinners shed. And be thy feast to us the token That by thy grace our souls are fed. Amen
# The Army and Navy Hymnal/Hymns/Brightest and Best of the Sons of the Morning

* Brightest and best of the sons of the morning, Dawn on our darkness and lend us thine aid, Star of the east, the horizon adorning, Guide where our infant Redeemer is laid.
* Say, shall we yield him, in costly devotion, Odors of Edom and offerings divine, Gems of the mountain and pearls of the ocean, Myrrh from the forest, or gold from the mine?
* Vainly we offer each ample oblation, Vainly with gifts would his favor secure; Richer by far is the heart's adoration, Dearer to God are the prayers of the poor.
* Cold on his cradle the dewdrops are shining, Low lies his head with the beasts of the stall; Angels adore him in slumber reclining, Maker and Monarch and Saviour of all. Amen.
# Sunset (magazine)/Volume 31/Yosemite

YOSEMITE
By LOUISE CULVER
# Sunset (magazine)/Volume 31/The Month's Rodeo

​THE MONTH'S RODEO
A ROUND-UP OF STRAYS WORTH CORRALING
Pendleton's Annual Round-up
Over in the wheat country of eastern Oregon about the only shelter that picnickers can find is made by scraggly cottonwoods along the banks of an occasional stream or by trees in an orchard made possible by irrigation. The rolling country does not lend itself to arboreal vegetation but is perfectly content to spend its fertility in record-breaking grain yields. There is no romance in cottonwoods and apple trees. Lovers and workers hanker for leafy maples, spreading elms, droopy peppers or sighing eucalypti.
What has that to do with a picture of cow punchers and Indians! Just this:
The people of Pendleton had a great desire for a playground, a city park. The desire got coupled up with the ambition of some of the enterprising young men of the town for real live sport, something that would put Pendleton on the map. The result of the union of these ambitions was the Pendleton Round-up, which proved so successful the year of its inception that a long start was made toward the cherished park. The promoters were moved wholly by an altruistic, communistic motive, hence the round-up cleaned up a neat sum. Success! The second year saw Pendletonians rampant with enthusiasm. A beautiful park site was purchased, an amphitheater seating ten thousand erected and the whole population practised the slogan "Let 'er Buck!" until the Blue mountains reverberated the echo. The third year the amphitheater was enlarged, Pendleton entertained for three days an average of thirty thousand visitors, and surprised railroads could not meet the emergency.
The fourth year's celebration ended September 13th last and the banks of Pendleton are bulging with coin left in the town by at least fifty thousand ​thoroughly satisfied guests; for the Pendletonians give value received. They have the biggest frontier show of them all. It is a community enterprise. The butcher, the baker, the banker, the lawyer all unite in making it pay, and its tremendous success is easily attributable to community effort. One of these fine days Pendleton will have what it set out to have, a city park fitting the "biggest town of its size in the West."
It's some fun to take care of six times a town's population for half a week!
# The Bobbsey Twins at Meadow Brook

BURT WAS VERY FUNNY AS A CLOWN, AND HE TURNED SOMERSAULTS IN THE HAY.
BY LAURA LEE HOPE
AUTHOR OF "THE BOBBSEY TWINS," "THE BOBBSEY TWINS AT SNOW LODGE," "THE BOBBSEY TWINS ON A HOUSEBOAT," "THE OUTDOOR GIRLS OF DEEPDALE," "THE OUTDOOR GIRLS AT RAINBOW LAKE," ETC.
ILLUSTRATED
NEW YORK GROSSET & DUNLAP
Made in the United States of America
BOOKS BY LAURA LEE HOPE
THE BOBBSEY TWINS SERIES
For Little Men and Women
THE BOBBSEY TWINS IN THE COUNTRY
THE BOBBSEY TWINS AT THE SEASHORE
THE BOBBSEY TWINS AT SCHOOL
THE BOBBSEY TWINS AT SNOW LODGE
THE BOBBSEY TWINS ON A HOUSEBOAT
THE BOBBSEY TWINS AT MEADOW BROOK
THE OUTDOOR GIRLS SERIES
THE OUTDOOR GIRLS OF DEEPDALE
THE OUTDOOR GIRLS AT RAINBOW LAKE
THE OUTDOOR GIRLS IN A MOTOR CAR
THE OUTDOOR GIRLS IN A WINTER CAMP
THE OUTDOOR GIRLS IN FLORIDA
Copyright, 1915, by Grosset & Dunlap.
The Bobbsey Twins at Meadow Brook
CONTENTS.
| CHAPTER | | PAGE |
| I. | A Crockery Crash | 1 |
| II. | New Summer Plans | 14 |
| III. | The Runaway Boy | 25 |
| IV. | Off for Meadow Brook | 34 |
| V. | Snap's Escape | 47 |
| VI. | At Meadow Brook | 57 |
| VII. | The Picnic | 71 |
| VIII. | Lost in the Hay | 84 |
| IX. | The Five-Pin Show | 96 |
| X. | A Sham Battle | 107 |
| XI. | Moving Pictures | 116 |
| XII. | The Bobbseys Act | 123 |
| XIII. | The Circus | 136 |
| XIV. | Freddie Is Missing | 148 |
| XV. | Found Again | 160 |
| XVI. | Frank's Story | 167 |
| XVII. | A Wild Animal Scare | 178 |
| XVIII. | What Freddie Saw | 190 |
| XIX. | In Swimming | 200 |
| XX. | Frank Comes Back | 209 |
| XXI. | Bad Money | 217 |
| XXII. | Happy Days | 229 |
This work was published before January 1, 1929 and is anonymous or pseudonymous due to unknown authorship. It is in the public domain in the United States as well as countries and areas where the copyright terms of anonymous or pseudonymous works are 95 years or less since publication.
Public domainPublic domainfalsefalse
# The Bobbsey Twins at School

Book 4 in the Bobbsey Twins series.
The Bobbsey Twins
at School
BY
LAURA LEE HOPE
AUTHOR OF "THE BOBBSEY TWINS." "THE BOBBSEY TWINS IN THE COUNTRY." "THE BOBBSEY TWINS AT THE SEASHORE." "THE OUTDOOR GIRLS OF DEEP- DALE." "THE OUTDOOR GIRLS AT RAINBOW LAKE," ETC
ILLUSTRATED
NEW YORK
GROSSET & DUNLAP
PUBLISHERS
Made in the United States of America
CONTENTS
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 Book of Scottish Song/Though Boreas bauld

Though Boreas bauld.
[Capt. Charles Gray. — Air, "Maggie Lauder."]
Though Boreas bauld, that carle auld, Should sough a surly chorus; And winter fell walk out himsel', And throw his mantle o'er us; Though winds blaw drift adown the lift, And drive hailstanes afore 'em, While you an' I sit snug an' dry, Let's push about the jorum!
Though no a bird can now be heard Upon the leafless timmer; Whate'er betide, the ingle side Can mak' the winter simmer! Though cauldrife souls hate reeking bowls, And loath what's set before 'em; How sweet to tout the glasses out— O leeze me on a jorum!
The hie hill taps, like baxters' baps, Wi'snaw are white and floury; Skyte down the lum, the hailstanes come In winter's wildest fury! Sharp Johnny Frost wi' barkynt hoast Maks trav'llers tramp the quicker; Shou'd he come here to spoil our cheer, We'll drown him in the bicker!
Bess, beet the fire—come big it higher, Lest cauld should mak' us canker'd; This is our hame, my dainty dame, Sae, fill the tither tankard! ​Wi' guid ait cakes, or butter bakes, And routh o' whiskey toddy, Wha daur complain, or mak' a mane, That man's a saul-less body!
# The Book of Scottish Song/Though dowie's the Winter

Though dowie's the Winter.
[Alexander Laing.—First printed in the "British Minstrel" edited by Mr. John Struthers, and published by Khull, Blackie, & Co., 1821.]
Though dowie's the winter sae gloomie an' drear, O happy we've been through the dead o' the year; An' blythe to sic bield as the burnie brae gave; O mony a nicht ha'e we stoun frae the lave. ​Now the spring-time has tane the lang e'enings awa', We maunna be seen an' less aften I'll ca', But May-day is coming—our wedding an' a', Sae weary na, lassie, though I gang awa'.
Our gigglet young lasses are sairly mista'en, They ken at the place wi' his honour I've been, An' ta'en the plough-haudin' o' bonnie Broomlee, But they kenna wha's coming to haud it wi' me. They ken i' the e'enings I'm aften frae hame; They say wi' a lass, 'cause I look na to them; They jamph an' they jeer, an' they banter at me, An' twenty they've guess'd o', but never guess'd thee.
I'll sing the haill day, when your dwellin' I'm near; I'll whistle when ploughin' as far's you can hear, An' aye when I see you, gin nae bodie see, I'll blink to my lassie—my lassie to me. An' aye till that time baith at kirk an' at fair,
In taiken o' true love, dear lassie, ye'll wear The green-tartan rockley, my keepsake to thee— An' I the white owerlay ye gifted to me.
# The Book of Scottish Song/Tho' simmer smiles

Tho' simmer smiles.
[The first verse and chorus of this song are by Tannahill. The last verse but one is by Motherwell. The other stanzas are by Mr. Gibson, teacher, Greenock. R. A. Smith, who possessed Tannahill's fragment, set it to a Highland air, which he took down from the voice of a country girl in Arran.]
Tho' simmer smiles on bank and brae, An' nature bids the heart be gay; Yet a' the joys o' flow'ry May, Wi' pleasure ne'er can move me.
Hey Donald! howe Donald! Think upon your vow, Donald! Mind the heathery knowe, Donald, Whare ye vow'd to lo'e me.
When first ye climb'd the heath'ry steep, Wi' me to wear my father's sheep, The vows ye made ye said ye'd keep, The vows ye made to lo'e me. Hey Donald, &c.
But love is but a weary dream, Its joys are like the summer scene, Whose beauty is the sunny beam, That dazzles to deceive me. Hey Donald, &c.
I downa look on bank or brae, I downa greet where a' are gay; But, oh! my heart will break wi' wae, Gin Donald cease to lo'e me. Hey Donald, &c.
My father has a haddin braw, His setting sun's just gaun to fa', And Donald thou sall get it a', My Donald gin ye'll lo'e me. Hey Donald, &c.
# The Book of Scottish Song/Thou gloomy Feberwar

Whitelaw erroneously refers to Peter Buchan as "Patrick Buchan"
Thou gloomy Feberwar.
[The first stanza of this song is a fragment by Tannahill: the others are by Patrick Buchan.]
Thou cauld gloomy Feberwar, Oh! gin thou wert awa'! I'm wae to hear thy soughin' winds, I'm wae to see thy snaw; For my bonnie braw young Hielandman, The lad I lo'e sae dear, Has vow'd to come and see me, In the spring o' the year.
A silken ban' he gae me, To bin' my gowden hair; A siller brooch and tartan plaid, A' for his sake to wear: And oh! my heart was like to break, (For partin' sorrows sair,) As he vow'd to come and see me, In the spring o' the year.
Aft, aft as gloaming dims the sky, I wander out alane, Whare buds the bonnie yellow whins, Around the trystin' stane: 'Twas there he press'd me to his heart, And kiss'd awa' the tear, As he vow'd to come and see me, In the spring o' the year.
Ye gentle breezes saftly blaw, And cleed anew the wuds; Ye lav'rocks lilt your cheery sangs, Amang the fleecy cluds; Till Feberwar and a' his train, Affrighted disappear— I'll hail wi' you the blythsome change, The spring-time o' the year.
# The Book of Scottish Song/Through the wood, laddie

Through the wood, laddie.
[The original verses, or at least what are supposed to be the oldest verses, to the favourite old air called "Through the wood, laddie," are very long, and not worth quoting. They begin thus:
"As Philermon and Phillis together did walk, To the woods they did wander, To the woods they did wander, As Philermon and Phillis together did walk, To the woods they did wander, Together did talk!"
Ramsay wrote two sets of verses to the tune. The first is, like the above, very long, but much superior to it as a piece of composition. It begins,
"As early I walk'd on the first of sweet May, Beneath a steep mountain, Beside a clear fountain, I heard a grave lute soft melody play, While the echo resounded the dolorous lay."
We content ourselves with quoting here Ramsay's second song to the tune, which still retains a place in the collections.]
O, Sandy, why leave thus thy Nelly to mourn? Thy presence could ease me, When naething can please me; Now dowie I sigh on the bank o' the burn, Or through the wood, laddie, until thou return.
Though woods now are bonnie, and mornings are clear, While lav'rocks are singing, And primroses springing; Yet nane o' them pleases my eye or my ear, When through the wood, laddie, ye dinna appear.
That I am forsaken, some spare not to tell; I'm fash'd wi' their scornin' Baith e'enin' and mornin'; Their jeering gaes aft to my heart wi' a knell, When through the wood, laddie, I wander mysel'.
Then stay, my dear Sandy, nae langer away; But, quick as an arrow, Haste here to t'ny marrow, Wha's living in languor till that happy day. When through the wood, laddie, thegither we'll gae.
# The Book of Scottish Song/Thy fatal shafts

Thy fatal shafts.
[Smollett.—Tune, "An' then wert my ain thing."]
Thy fatal shafts unerring move; I bow before thine altar. Love! I feel thy soft resistless flame Glide swift through all nay vital frame!
For while I gaze my bosom glows, My blood in tides impetuous flows; Hope, fear, and joy, alternate roll, And floods of transport 'whelm my soul.
My falt'ring tongue attempts in vain In soothing murmurs to complain; My tongue some secret magic ties, My murmurs sink in broken sighs!
Condemn'd to nurse eternal care, And ever drop the silent tear, Unheard I mourn, unknown I sigh, Unfriended live, unpitied die!
# The Book of Scottish Song/Tho' we ne'er should meet

Tho’ we ne’er should meet.
[Dugald Moore.]
Yes, though we ne'er again should meet By summer bower, or sunny sea; This brain shall burn, this bosom beat, For ever, and alone, for thee! For who would bid oblivion roll, Athwart the sunshine of those hours, In which we mingled soul with soul, As the winds mix congenial flowers.
Then, though the hand of distance flings Long shadows 'twixt thy hearth and mine, He cannot clip the lightning wings, Which bear my spirit back-to thine! Though seas their waves between us cast, And though the star of hope has set, Yet there's a soul within the past, A glory I can ne'er forget!