OpenLLM-France/wikimedia huggingface dataset:
# The Complete Works of Swami Vivekananda/Volume 6/Epistles - Second Series/CLVII Margot

CLVII
1719 TURK STREET,
SAN FRANCISCO,
28th March, 1900.
MY DEAR MARGOT, (Margaret E. Noble or Sister Nivedita)
I am so glad at your good fortune. Things have got to come round if we are steady. I am sure you will get all the money you require here or in England.
I am working hard; and the harder I work, the better I feel. This ill health has done me a great good, sure. I am really understanding what non-attachment means. And I hope very soon to be perfectly non-attached.
We put all our energies to concentrate and get attached to one thing; but the other part, though equally difficult, we seldom pay any attention to — the faculty of detaching ourselves at a moment's notice from anything.
Both attachment and detachment perfectly developed make a man great and happy.
I am so glad at Mrs. Leggett's gift of $1,000. She is working up, wait. She has a great part to play in Ramakrishna's work, whether she knows it or not.
I enjoyed your accounts of Prof. Geddes, and Joe has a funny account of a clairvoyant. Things are just now beginning to turn. . . .
This letter, I think, Will reach you at Chicago. . . .
I had a nice letter from Max Gysic, the young Swiss who is a great friend of Miss Souter. Miss Souter also sends her love, and they ask to know the time when I come over to England. Many people are inquiring, they say.
Things have got to come round — the seed must die underground to come up as the tree. The last two years were the underground rotting. I never had a struggle in the jaws of death, but it meant a tremendous upheaval of the whole life. One such brought me to Ramakrishna, another sent me to the U.S., this has been the greatest of all. It is gone — I am so calm that it astonishes me sometimes!! I work every day morning and evening, eat anything any hour — and go to bed at 12 p.m. in the night — but such fine sleep!! I never had such power of sleeping before!
Yours with all love and blessings,
VIVEKANANDA.
# The Complete Works of Swami Vivekananda/Volume 6/Epistles - Second Series/CLXII Nivedita

CLXII
PARIS,
28th August, 1900.
DEAR NIVEDITA,
Such is life — grind, grind; and yet what else are we to do? Grind, grind! Something will come — some way will be opened. If it does not, as it probably never will — then, then — what then? All our efforts are only to stave off, for a season, the great climax — death! Oh, what would the world do without you, Death! Thou great healer!
The world, as it is, is not real, is not eternal, thank the Lord!! How can the future be any better? That must be an effect of this one — at least like this, if not worse!
Dreams, oh dreams! Dream on! Dream, the magic of dream, is the cause of this life, it is also the remedy. Dream' dream; only dream! Kill dream by dream!
I am trying to learn French, talking to — here. Some are very appreciative already. Talk to all the world — of the eternal riddle, the eternal spool of fate, whose thread-end no one finds and everyone seems to find, at least to his own satisfaction, at least for a time — to fool himself a moment, isn't it?
Well, now great things are to be done! Who cares for great things? Why not do small things as well? One is as good as the other. The greatness of little things, that is what the Gita teaches — bless the old book!! . . .
I have not had much time to think of the body. So it must be well. Nothing is ever well here. We forget them at times, and that is being well and doing well. . . .
We play our parts here — good or bad. When the dream is finished and we have left the stage, we will have a hearty laugh at all this — of this only I am sure.
Yours etc.,
VIVEKANANDA.
# The Dame of honour/Fint a crum of thee she faws

Fint a Crum of Thee She Faws.
REturn hameward, my heart again, and bide where thou was wont to be; Thou art a fool to suffer pain. For love of one that loves not thee: My heart let be sic fantalie, Love only where thou hast good cause Since scorn and syking ne'er agree, The fint a crum of thee she faws.
To what effect should thou be thrall? Be happy in thy ain free will; My heart be never bestial, But ken wha does thee good or ill: At hame with me then tarry still, And see wha best can play thy paws, And let the filly fling her fill, For fint a crum of thee she faws.
Though she be fair, I will not fenzie, She's of a kind with mony mae; ⟨For⟩ why, they are a felon menzie, That seemeth good and are not fae: My heart, take neither strut not wae, For Meg, for Margery, or Mause, But be thou blythe, and let her gae, For fint a crum of thee she faws.
Remember how that Media, wild for a sight of Jason yield; Remember how young Cressida Left Troilus for Diomede: ​Remember Helen, as we read, Brought Troy from bliss unto bare waws: Then let her gae where she may speed, For fint a crum of thee she faws.
Because she said, I took it ill, For her depart my heart was fair, But was beguil’d; gae where she will, Beshrew the heart that first takes care: But be thou merry late and air, This is the final end and clause, And let her feed and fooly fair, For fint a crum of thee she faws.
Ne’er dunt again within my breast, Ne’er let her slights thy courage spill, Nor gi’e a fab, although she sneest, She's fairest paid that gets her will, She gecks as gif I meant her ill, When she glaiks paughty in her braws; Now let her snirt and syke her fill, For fint a crum of thee she faws.
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 Dame of honour/The shannon-side: or, Cap. Thunderbolt's intrigue

Captain Thunderbolt’s Intrigue.
IT was in the month of April, one morning by the dawn, When violets and cowslips, bestrewed every lawn; And Flora’s flow’ry mantle, bedeck’d the fields with pride, I met with a lovely damsel down by the Shannon-side.
​Good-morrow to you sweet-heart, I to this maid did say, Why are you up so early? and where are you going this way? With cheeks like blooming roses, the damsel she reply'd, I'm going to seek my father's sheep, down by the Shannon-side.
Said I, My lovely damsel, I'll bear you company, If you have no objections, that I do walk with thee. Kind sir, said she, excuse me, my friends would me deride, If I were seen with any man, upon the Shannon-side.
In transport then I seiz'd her, gave her a loving kiss; She said, Forbear such freedom, Sir, what do you mean by this? The ground was moss whereon we stood, her ⟨feet⟩ from her did slide, And we fell down together, down by the Shannon-side.
Three times I kiss'd her ruby lips, as we lay on the grass; And coming to herself again, she cry'd, What meaneth this? Now since you've got your will of me, make me your wedded ⟨bride⟩, ​And do not leave me here to mourn upon the Shannon-side.
⟨I⟩ said, My pretty damsel, from murmur now refrain, We’ll talk concerning marriage, when I come back again; ⟨And⟩ do not let your spirits sink, whate’er will you betide, ⟨Until⟩ you see my face again, Upon the Shannon-side.
We kiss'd, shook hands, and parted, and from her I did steer; ⟨I⟩ did not come that way again, for more than half a year: ⟨Crossing⟩ over a pleasant lawn, by chance my love I spy’d, ⟨Scarce⟩ able for to walk her lone, along the Shanhon-side.
⟨I⟩ seem’d to take no notice, but kept along my way, ⟨All⟩ my love call'd out with all her might, defiring me to stay; ⟨These⟩ words she spoke, as down her cheeks the crystal tears did glide, ⟨Sir⟩, Don’t forget the fall you gave, down by the Shannon-side.
⟨To⟩ me it prov’d a woful fall, for I’m with child to thee, ⟨And⟩ if you would seem satisfy’d, kind Sir to marry me, ​Sixty bright guineas of pure gold, my father will me provide, With sixty acres of good land, down by the Shannon-side.
I said, My lovely damsel, I love the offer well, But that I am engaged the truth to you I tell, Unto another damsel, who is to be my bride, A wealthy Grazier's Daughter, that lives on yon mountain side.
Now since you will not marry me, pray let me know your name, That when your child is born, I may call it the same. I am called Captain Thunderbolt, my name I'll never deny, And I have men at my command, on yonder mountain high.
We then shook hands and parted, and straight I took my way, And looking back behind me, I hard her for to say, Now I may be a warning, to all fair maids beside, Never to trust a man again upon the Shannon-side.
G L A S G O W, Printed by J. and M. Robertson, Saltmarket, ⟨1802⟩
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 Damp

WHEN I am dead, and doctors know not why, And my friends' curiosity Will have me cut up to survey each part, When they shall find your picture in my heart, You think a sudden damp of love Will thorough all their senses move, And work on them as me, and so prefer Your murder to the name of massacre,
Poor victories; but if you dare be brave, And pleasure in your conquest have, First kill th' enormous giant, your Disdain; And let th' enchantress Honour, next be slain; And like a Goth and Vandal rise, Deface records and histories Of your own arts and triumphs over men, And without such advantage kill me then,
For I could muster up, as well as you, My giants, and my witches too, Which are vast Constancy and Secretness; But these I neither look for nor profess; Kill me as woman, let me die As a mere man; do you but try Your passive valour, and you shall find then, Naked you have odds enough of any man.
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 Dame of honour

THE
DAME of HONOUR.
TO WHICH ARE ADDED,
FINT a CRUM of THEE SHE FAWS,
A N D
THE SHANNON-SIDE:
O R,
Cap. THUNDERBOLT'S Intrigue.
G L A S G O W, PRINTED BY J. and M. ROBERTSON, Saltmarket, 1802.
* The Dame of honour
* Fint a crum of thee she faws
* The shannon-side: or, Cap. Thunderbolt's intrigue
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 Dame of honour/The Dame of honour

The DAME of HONOUR.
SInce now the world’s turn’d upside down, and all things chang'd in nature; As if a doubt was newly grown, we had the same Creator: Of ancient modes and former ways, I'll teach you, Sirs, the manner, In good Queen Befs’s golden days, when I was Dame of Honour.
I had an ancient noble seat, tho’ now 'tis come to ruin; Where mutton, beef, and such good meat, in th’ hall were daily chewing: Of humming beer, my cellar full, I was the yearly donor: Where topping knaves had made a pull, when I was Dame of Honour.
My men with home-spun honest greys, had coats and homely badges; They wore no dirty ragged lace, nor ne'er complain’d of wages: For gaudy fringe and silks o’th' town, I fear'd no threat'ning Dunner; But wore a decent grogram gown, when I was Dame of Honour.
I never thought Cantharides ingredients good in posset: ​Nor never stript me to my stays, to play at punk and ballet: In Ratafia ne’er made debauch, nor reell'd like topping Gunner, Nor let my Mercer seize my coach, when I was Dame of Honour.
I still preserv’d my maiden fame, in spite of oaths and lying; Tho' many a long-chin’d younker came, and fain would be enjoying: My fan to guard my lips I kept, from Cupid’s loud o’er-runner, And many a Roman-nose I rapp’d, when I was Dame of Honour.
My curling locks I never bought of beggar's dirty daughters; Nor prompted by a wanton thought, above knee ty’d my garters; I never glow’d with painted pride, like Punk when the Devil has won her, Nor prov’d a cheat to be a bride, when I was Dame of Honour.
My neighbours still I treated round, and strangers that came near me; The poor too always welcome found, whose pray’rs did still endear me: Let therefore who at court would be no churl, nor yet no fawner, Match in old hospitality Queen Bess's Dame of Honour.
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 Damned Thing

* "The Damned Thing," in The Collected Works of Ambrose Bierce, Vol. III (1909)
* "The Damned Thing" in Weird Tales, 2 (2) (September 1923)
# The Dance (Brooke)

* "The Dance", in The Book of the Homeless (1916) edited by Edith Wharton
* "The Dance", in The Collected Poems of Rupert Brooke: With a Memoir (1918)
# The Dam that Keele Built

This is the dam that Keele built. This is the stream that brought the water to fill the dam that Keele built;
This is the Water and Sewer Brigade, That measured the stream that brought the water to fill the dam that Keele built;
This is the Engineer by Trade -- Head of the Water and Sewer Brigade, Who measured the stream that brought the water to fill the dam that Keele built;
These are the Calculations made By the Eminent Engineer by Trade, Head of the Water and Sewer Brigade, Who measured the stream that brought the water to fill the dam that Keele built;
This is the scornful Mr Wade, Who sneered at the Calculations made By the Eminent Engineer by Trade, Head of the Water and Sewer Brigade, Who measured the stream that brought the water to fill the dam that Keele built;
This is the Minister quite dismayed At the sight of the Scornful Mr Wade, Who sneered at the Calculations made By the Eminent Engineer by Trade, Head of the Water and Sewer Brigade, Who measured the stream that brought the water to fill the dam that Keele built;
This is the Sydneyite afraid That a serious blunder will be made, Because of the Minister, quite dismayed At the sight of the Scornful Mr Wade, Who sneered at the Calculations made By the Eminent Engineer by Trade, Head of the Water and Sewer Brigade, Who measured the stream that brought the water to fill the dam that Keele built;
This work is in the public domain in Australia because it was created in Australia and the term of copyright has expired. According to Australian Copyright Council - Duration of Copyright, the following works are public domain:
* published non-government works whose author died before January 1, 1955,
* anonymous or pseudonymous works and photographs published before January 1, 1955, and
* government works published more than 50 years ago (before January 1, 1974).
This work is also in the public domain in the United States because it was first published outside the United States (and not published in the U.S. within 30 days), and it was first published before 1989 without complying with U.S. copyright formalities (renewal and/or copyright notice) and it was in the public domain in Australia on the URAA date (January 1, 1996). This is the combined effect of Australia having joined the Berne Convention in 1928, and of 17 USC 104A with its critical date of January 1, 1996.
Because the Australian copyright term in 1996 was 50 years, the critical date for copyright in the United States under the URAA is January 1, 1946.
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 Covent-Garden Journal

The Covent-Garden Journal (also seen as The Covent Garden Journal) was an English political and literary periodical published twice a week for most of 1752. It was edited and almost entirely financed by the novelist, playwright, and essayist Henry Fielding, under the pseudonym of "Sir Alexander Drawcansir, Knt. Censor of Great Britain". It was Fielding's fourth and final periodical, and one of his last written works.
    Warning: template has been deprecated.

## Issues

* Number 1
* Number 2
* Number 3
* Number 4
* Number 5
* Number 6
* Number 7
* Number 8
* Number 9
* Number 10
* Number 11
* Number 12
* Number 13
* Number 14
* Number 15
* Number 16
* Number 17
* Number 18
* Number 19
* Number 20
* Number 21
* Number 22
* Number 23
* Number 24
* Number 25
* Number 26
* Number 27
* Number 28
* Number 29
* Number 30
* Number 31
* Number 32
* Number 33
# The Cloud of Unknowing/Chapter 13

​HERE BEGINNETH THE THIRTEENTH CHAPTER
What meekness is in itself, and when it is perfect and when it is imperfect.
NOW let see first of the virtue of meekness; how that it is imperfect when it is caused of any other thing mingled with God although He be the chief; and how that it is perfect when it is caused of God by Himself. And first it is to wit, what meekness is in itself, if this matter shall clearly be seen and conceived; and thereafter may it more verily be conceived in truth of spirit what is the cause thereof.
Meekness in itself is nought else, but a true knowing and feeling of a man's self as he is. For surely whoso might verily see and feel himself as he is, he should verily be meek. Two ​things there be, the which be cause of this meekness; the which be these. One is the filth, the wretchedness, and the frailty of man, into the which he is fallen by sin; and the which always him behoveth to feel in some part the whiles he liveth in this life, be he never so holy. Another is the over-abundant love and the worthiness of God in Himself; in beholding of the which all nature quaketh, all clerks be fools, and all saints and angels be blind. Insomuch, that were it not that through the wisdom of His Godhead He measured their beholding after their ableness in nature and in grace, I defail to say what should befall them.
This second cause is perfect; for why, it shall last without end. And the tother before is imperfect; for why, it shall not only fail at the end of this life, but full oft it may befall that a soul in this deadly body for abundance of grace in multiplying of his desire—as oft and as long as God vouchsafeth for to work it—shall have suddenly ​and perfectly lost and forgotten all witting and feeling of his being, not looking after whether he have been holy or wretched. But whether this fall oft or seldom to a soul that is thus disposed, I trow that it lasteth but a full short while: and in this time it is perfectly meeked, for it knoweth and feeleth no cause but the Chief. And ever when it knoweth and feeleth the tother cause, communing therewith, although this be the chief: yet it is imperfect meekness. Nevertheless yet it is good and notwithstanding must be had; and God forbid that thou take it in any other manner than I say.
# The Cloud of Unknowing/Chapter 18

​HERE BEGINNETH THE EIGHTEENTH CHAPTER
How that yet unto this day all actives complain of contemplatives as Martha did of Mary. Of the which complaining ignorance is the cause.
AND right as Martha complained then on Mary her sister, right so yet unto this day all actives complain of contemplatives. For an there be a man or a woman in any company of this world, what company soever it be, religious or seculars—I out-take none—the which man or woman, whichever that it be, feeleth him stirred through grace and by counsel to forsake all outward business, and for to set him fully for to live contemplative life after their cunning and their conscience, their counsel according; as fast, their own brethren and their sisters, and ​all their next friends, with many other that know not their stirrings nor that manner of living that they set them to, with a great complaining spirit shall rise upon them, and say sharply unto them that it is nought that they do. And as fast they will reckon up many false tales, and many true also, of falling of men and women that have given them to such life before: and never a good tale of them that stood.
I grant that many fall and have fallen of them that have in likeness forsaken the world. And where they should have become God's servants and His contemplatives, because that they would not rule them by true ghostly counsel they have become the devil's servants and his contemplatives; and turned either to hypocrites or to heretics, or fallen into frenzies and many other mischiefs, in slander of Holy Church. Of the which I leave to speak at this time, for troubling of our matter. But nevertheless here​after when God vouchsafeth and if need be, men may see some of the conditions and the cause of their fallings. And therefore no more of them at this time; but forth of our matter.
# The Cloud of Unknowing/Chapter 11

​HERE BEGINNETH THE ELEVENTH CHAPTER
That a man should weigh each thought and each stirring after that it is, and always eschew recklessness in venial sin.
I SAY not this for that I trow that thou, or any other such as I speak of, be guilty and cumbered with any such sins; but for that I would that thou weighest each thought and each stirring after that it is, and for I would that thou travailedst busily to destroy the first stirring and thought of these things that thou mayest thus sin in. For one thing I tell thee; that who weigheth not, or setteth little by, the first thought—yea, although it be no sin unto him—that he, whosoever that he be, shall not eschew recklessness in venial sin. Venial sin shall no man utterly eschew in this deadly life. But ​recklessness in venial sin should always be eschewed of all the true disciples of perfection; and else I have no wonder though they soon sin deadly.
# The Cloud of Unknowing/Chapter 12

​HERE BEGINNETH THE TWELFTH CHAPTER
That by virtue of this work sin is not only destroyed, but also virtues begotten.
AND, therefore, if thou wilt stand and not fall, cease never in thine intent: but beat evermore on this cloud of unknowing that is betwixt thee and thy God with a sharp dart of longing love, and loathe for to think on aught under God, and go not thence for anything that befalleth. For this is only by itself that work that destroyeth the ground and the root of sin. Fast thou never so much, wake thou never so long, rise thou never so early, lie thou never so hard, wear thou never so sharp; yea, and if it were lawful to do—as it is not—put thou out thine eyes, cut thou out thy tongue of thy mouth, stop thou thine ears and thy ​nose never so fast, though thou shear away thy members, and do all the pain to thy body that thou mayest or canst think: all this would help thee right nought. Yet will stirring and rising of sin be in thee.
Yea, and what more? Weep thou never so much for sorrow of thy sins, or of the Passion of Christ, or have thou never so much mind of the joys of heaven, what may it do to thee? Surely much good, much help, much profit, and much grace will it get thee. But in comparison of this blind stirring of love, it is but a little that it doth, or may do, without this. This by itself is the best part of Mary without these other. They without it profit but little or nought. It destroyeth not only the ground and the root of sin as it may be here, but thereto it getteth virtues. For an it be truly conceived, all virtues shall truly be, and perfectly conceived, and feelingly comprehended, in it, without any mingling of the intent. And have a man never so many virtues ​without it, all they be mingled with some crooked intent, for the which they be imperfect.
For virtue is nought else but an ordained and a measured affection, plainly directed unto God for Himself. For why? He in Himself is the pure cause of all virtues: insomuch, that if any man be stirred to any one virtue by any other cause mingled with Him, yea, although that He be the chief, yet that virtue is then imperfect. As thus by example may be seen in one virtue or two instead of all the other; and well may these two virtues be meekness and charity. For whoso might get these two clearly, him needeth no more: for why, he hath all.