OpenLLM-France/wikimedia huggingface dataset:
# The American Cyclopædia (1879)/Arnica

Edition of 1879. See also Arnica on Wikipedia; and the disclaimer.
* Arnica montana.
ARNICA, a genus of plants of the natural order compositæ. The arnica montana or leopard's bane grows in the mountainous districts of the north and middle of Europe, blossoming in June and July. Its flowers, leaves, and root are employed in medicine, but the flowers are usually preferred. A tincture and extract are prepared from the flowers, and a tincture from the root. An infusion may be used. Arnica contains a volatile oil, bitter extractive, and resin, the first being probably the active constituent. When taken internally arnica produces increased rapidity of the pulse, headache, dizziness, and spasmodic twitchings of the muscles, with occasional vomiting and diarrhœa. Externally it is a slight irritant. It has been used, more in Germany than in this country, in low forms of fever and nervous diseases. It is largely used as a remedy for sprains and bruises.
# The American Cyclopædia (1879)/Arnim, Johann Georg

Edition of 1879. See also Hans Georg von Arnim-Boitzenburg on Wikipedia; and the disclaimer.
ARNIM, or Arnheim, Johann Georg, a German soldier, born at Boitzenburg in 1581, died in Dresden, April 18, 1641. He fought under Gustavus Adolphus against Russia, and in the Polish service against the Turks, and was a favorite officer of Wallenstein, who made him field marshal. In 1631 he joined the elector of Saxony, commanded the Saxon troops at Breitenfeld, invaded Bohemia, took Prague, and was victorious at Nimburg, in 1632 returned to Saxony, then fought in Brandenburg and Silesia, and in 1634 defeated the imperialists at Liegnitz. In the following year he left
the service, and in 1637 was arrested by the Swedes on account of an alleged former secret understanding with Wallenstein. In November 1638, he escaped from Stockholm to Hamburg and raised at his own expense and with the consent of the imperial and Saxon authorities an army of 16,000 men against Sweden, but died before it could engage in active operations.
# The American Cyclopædia (1879)/Arnim, Karl Otto Ludwig von

Edition of 1879. See also Karl Otto Ludwig von Arnim on Wikipedia; and the disclaimer.
ARNIM, Karl Otto Ludwig von, a German author, born in Berlin, Aug. 1, 1779, died there, Feb. 9, 1861. His books of travel in France, Italy, Spain, Russia, and the East (Berlin, 6 vols., 1838-'50) are much valued.
# The Black Riders & Other Lines/If I should cast off this tattered coat

This poem was published in 1905 in the volume The Black Rider & Other Lines.
If I should cast off this tattered coat, And go free into the mighty sky; If I should find nothing there But a vast blue, Echoless, ignorant -- What then?
# The Black Riders & Other Lines/God lay dead in heaven

This poem was published in 1905 in the volume The Black Rider & Other Lines.
God lay dead in heaven; Angels sang the hymn of the end; Purple winds went moaning, Their wings drip-dripping With blood That fell upon the earth. It, groaning thing, Turned black and sank. Then from the far caverns Of dead sins Came monsters, livid with desire. They fought, Wrangled over the world, A morsel. But of all sadness this was sad -- A woman's arms tried to shield The head of a sleeping man From the jaws of the final beast.
# The Black Riders & Other Lines/I stood upon a high place,

This poem was published in 1905 in the volume The Black Rider & Other Lines.
I stood upon a high place, And saw, below, many devils Running, leaping, and carousing in sin. One looked up, grinning, And said, "Comrade! Brother!"
# The Black Riders & Other Lines/I walked in a desert

This poem was published in 1905 in the volume The Black Rider & Other Lines.
I walked in a desert. And I cried, "Ah, God, take me from this place!" A voice said, "It is no desert." I cried, "Well, But -- The sand, the heat, the vacant horizon." A voice said, "It is no desert."
# The Black Riders & Other Lines/I Met a Seer

This poem was published in 1905 in the volume The Black Rider & Other Lines.
I met a seer. He held in his hands The book of wisdom. "Sir," I addressed him, "Let me read." "Child -- " he began. "Sir," I said, "Think not that I am a child, For already I know much Of that which you hold. Aye, much."
He smiled. Then he opened the book And held it before me. -- Strange that I should have grown so suddenly blind.
# The Black Riders & Other Lines/I Saw a Man Pursuing the Horizon

This poem was published in 1905 in the volume The Black Rider & Other Lines.
I saw a man pursuing the horizon; Round and round they sped. I was disturbed at this; I accosted the man. "It is futile," I said, "You can never -"
"You lie," he cried, And ran on.
# The Black Riders & Other Lines/I Stood upon a Highway

This poem was published in 1905 in the volume The Black Rider & Other Lines.
I stood upon a highway, And, behold, there came Many strange peddlers. To me each one made gestures, Holding forth little images, saying, "This is my pattern of God. Now this is the God I prefer."
But I said, "Hence! Leave me with mine own, And take you yours away; I can't buy of your patterns of God, The little gods you may rightly prefer."
# The Black Riders & Other Lines/I looked here

This poem was published in 1905 in the volume The Black Rider & Other Lines.
I looked here; I looked there; Nowhere could I see my love. And -- this time -- She was in my heart. Truly, then, I have no complaint, For though she be fair and fairer, She is none so fair as she In my heart.
# The Black Riders & Other Lines/I was in the Darkness

This poem was published in 1905 in the volume The Black Rider & Other Lines.
I was in the darkness; I could not see my words Nor the wishes of my heart. Then suddenly there was a great light --
"Let me into the darkness again."
# The Black Riders & Other Lines/I stood musing in a black world

This poem was published in 1905 in the volume The Black Rider & Other Lines.
I stood musing in a black world, Not knowing where to direct my feet. And I saw the quick stream of men Pouring ceaselessly, Filled with eager faces, A torrent of desire. I called to them, "Where do you go? What do you see?" A thousand voices called to me. A thousand fingers pointed. "Look! look! There!"
I know not of it. But, lo! In the far sky shone a radiance Ineffable, divine -- A vision painted upon a pall; And sometimes it was, And sometimes it was not. I hesitated. Then from the stream Came roaring voices, Impatient: "Look! look! There!"
So again I saw, And leaped, unhesitant, And struggled and fumed With outspread clutching fingers. The hard hills tore my flesh; The ways bit my feet. At last I looked again. No radiance in the far sky, Ineffable, divine; No vision painted upon a pall; And always my eyes ached for the light. Then I cried in despair, "I see nothing! Oh, where do I go?" The torrent turned again its faces: "Look! look! There!"
And at the blindness of my spirit They screamed, "Fool! fool! fool!"
# The Book of Scottish Song/Lay of the Hopeless

Lay of the Hopeless.
[The two following beautiful lyrics are the production of Robert Miller, who died in Sept. 1834, at the early age of twenty-five. He was a native of Glasgow, and brought up to the profession of the law. He never published any collected volume, but he contributed various poetical pieces of great merit to the periodicals of the day. It is remarkable, that his "Lay of the Hopeless," in which he expresses so deep a heart-weariness of life, was written not many days before he was suddenly cut off.]
Oh! would that the wind that is sweeping now O'er the restless and weary wave, Were swaying the leaves of the cypress-bough O'er the calm of my early grave! ​And my heart, with its pulses of fire and life, Oh! would it were still as stone! I am weary, weary of all the strife, And the selfish world I've known.
I've drunk up bliss from a mantling cup, When youth and joy were mine; But the cold black dregs are floating up, Instead of the laughing wine; And life hath lost its loveliness, And youth hath spent its hour, And pleasure palls like bitterness, And hope hath not a flower.
And love! was it not a glorious eye That smiled on my early dream? It is closed for aye where the long weeds sigh In the churchyard by the stream: And fame—oh! mine were gorgeous hopes Of a flashing and young renown: But early, early the flower-leaf drops From the withering seed-cup down.
And beauty! have I not worshipp'd all Her shining creations well? The rock—the wood—the waterfall, Where light or where love might dwell. But over all, and on my heart The mildew hath faUen sadly— I have no spirit, I have no part In the earth that smiles so gladly!
I only sigh for a quiet bright spot In the churchyard by the stream, Whereon the morning sunbeams float, And the stars at midnight dream: Where only nature's sounds may wake The sacred and silent air, And only her beautiful things may break Through the long grass gathering there!
# The Book of Scottish Song/Leader Haughs and Yarrow 2

Leader Haughs and Yarrow.
[The following are more modern words than the above to the tune of "Leader Haughs and Yarrow." They appear in Ramsay's Tea-Table Miscellany, with the title, "Sweet Susan." They are generally ascribed to Robert Crawfurd, author of the "Bush aboon Traquair" and "Tweedside." See pages 11 and 449.]
The morn was fair, saft was the air, All nature's sweets were springing; The buds did bow with silver dew, Ten thousand birds were singing; When on the bent with blythe content, Young Jamie sang his marrow, Nae bonnier lass e'er trod the grass, On Leader Haughs and Yarrow.
How sweet her face, where ev'ry grace In heav'nly beauty's planted! Her smiling een, and comely mien, That nae perfection wanted. I'll never fret, nor ban my fate, But bless my bonnie marrow: If her dear smile my doubts beguile, My mind shall ken nae sorrow.
Yet though she's fair, and has full share Of every charm inchanting, Each good turns ill, and soon will kill Poor me, if love be wanting. O, bonnie lass! have but the grace To think ere ye gae further, Your joys maun flit, if you commit The crying sin of murder.
My wand'ring ghaist will ne'er get rest, And day and night affright ye; But if ye're kind, with joyful mind, I'll study to delight ye. Our years around, with love thus crown'd, From all things joy shall borrow: Thus none shall be more blest than we, On Leader Haughs and Yarrow.
O sweetest Sue! 'tis only you Can make life worth my wishes, If equal love your mind can move, To grant this best of blisses. Thou art my sun, and thy least frown Would blast me in the blossom, But if thou shine, and make me thine, I'll flourish in thy bosom.
# The Book of Scottish Song/Life's a faught

Life’s a faught.
[Robert Allan of Kilbarchan.—Air, "The glancing o' her apron."]
That life's a fausht there is nae doubt, A steep and slipp'ry brae, And wisdom's sel', wi' a' it's rules, Will aften find it sae. The truest heart that e'er was made, May find a deadly fae, And broken aiths and faithless vows Gi'e lovers mickle wae.
When poortith looks wi' sour disdain, It frights a body sair, And gars them think they ne'er will meet Delight or pleasure mair. But though the heart be e'er sae sad, And prest wi' joyless care, Hope lightly steps in at the last, To fley awa' despair.
For love o' wealth let misers toil, And fret baith late and air', A cheerfu' heart has aye enough, And whiles a mite to spare: ​A leal true heart's a gift frae heav'n, A gift that is maist rare; It is a treasure o' itsel', And lightens ilka care.
Let wealth and pride exalt themsel's, And boast o' what they ha'e, Compar'd wi' truth and honesty, They are nae worth a strae. The honest heart keeps aye aboon, Whate'er the world may say, And laughs and turns its shafts to scorn, That ithers would dismay.
Sae let us mak' life's burden light, And drive ilk care awa'; Contentment is a dainty feast, Although in hamely ha'; It gi'es a charm to ilka thing, And mak's it look fu' braw, The spendthrift and the miser herd, It soars aboon them a'.
But there's ae thing amang the lave To keep the heart in tune, And but for that the weary spleen Wad plague us late and soon; A bonnie lass, a canty wife, For sic is nature's law; Without that charmer o' our lives, There's scarce a charm ava.
# The Book of Scottish Song/Leddie Anne

Leddie Anne.
[By John Dougal, formerly of Paisley, now of Montreal.]
The primrose blooms beneath the brae, The burn rins rowin' clear; The laverock lilts nae sound o' wae, But wha my heart sall cheer; Or wha will tent my bonnie bairn, Sae like my fause, fause luve? Or wha, when I am dead and gane, Its tender plaints will muve?
Yestreen they ca'd me leddie Anne, The bonniest o' them a'; The day my cheeks are howe an' wan, An' this wild glen's my ha': Yestreen I had six bower maidens To do what I thocht meet, The day I lie on the cauld green grass, An' hear my baby greet.
An' its a' for thee, my fause, fause luve, That I maun dree sae sair, An' for my cruel father's wrath, Wha I maun ne'er see mair. But it's little pain ha'e I to thole, Or grief ha'e I to dree, The grave is calm; but wha will heed, My bonnie bairn, for thee.
Let the wounded doe skipp ower the mead, Bring comfort to despair, But she wha tines her maiden fame Can ne'er taste pleasure mair; Then, gracious heaven, be not wroth Wi' ane sae sair beguil'd, Forgive them a' that did me wrang, An' save, O, save my child!
# The Book of Scottish Song/Lenachan's Farewell

Lenachan’s Farewell.
[James Hogg.—Air, "Ho cha neil mulad oirn," or "The Emigrant's adieu."]
Fare thee weel, my native cot, Bothy o' the birken tree! Sair the heart, and hard the lot, O' the lad that parts wi' thee. My good grandsire's hand thee rear'd, Then thy wicker work was full; Mony a Campbell's glen he clear'd, Hit the buck, and hough'd the bull.
In thy green and grassy crook Mair lies hid than crusted stanes; In thy bien and weirdly nook Lie some stout Clan-Gillian banes. Thou wast aye the kinsman's hame, Routh and welcome was his fare; But if serf or Saxon came, He cross'd Murich's hirst nae mair
Never hand in thee yet bred Kendna how the sword to wield; Never heart of thine had dread Of the foray or the field: Ne'er on straw, mat, bulk, or bed, Son of thine lay down to die; Every lad within thee bred Died beneath heaven's open e'e.
Charlie Stuart he cam' here, For our king, as right became; Wha could shun the Bruce's heir? Wha could tyne our royal name? Firm to stand, and free to fa', Forth we march'd right valiantlie, Gane is Scotland's king an' law! Woe to the Highlands and to me!
Freemen, yet I'll scorn to fret, Here nae langer I maun stay; But, when I my hame forget, May my heart forget to play! Fare thee weel, my father's cot, Bothy o' the birken tree! Sair the heart, and hard the lot, O' the lad that parts wi' thee.
# The Book of Scottish Song/Lewis Gordon

Lewis Gordon.
[A production of Dr. Alexander Geddes. The Lewis Gordon alluded to was third son to the duke of Gordon. He declared for prince Charles on the rising in 1745, and was afterwards attainted, but escaped to France, where he died in 1754.]
O send Lewie Gordon hame, And the lad I daurna name; Though his back be at the wa', Here's to him that's far awa'! Ochon, my Highlandman! O my bonnie Highlandman! Weel would I my true love ken, Amang ten thousand Highlandmen.
O! to see his tartan trews, Bonnet blue, and laigh-heel'd shoes, Philabeg aboon his knee! That's the lad that I'll gang wi'. Ochon, &c. ​This lovely youth of whom I sing, Is fitted for to be a king; On his breast he wears a star: You'd tak' him for the god of war. Ochon, &c.
O! to see this princely one Seated on a royal throne! Disasters a' would disappear; Then begins the jub'lee year. Ochon, &c.
# The Book of Scottish Song/Life aye has been

Life aye has been.
[Tune, "Cauld kail in Aberdeen."]
Life aye has been a weary roun' Whare expectation's bluntet, Whare hope gets mony a crackit crown, An' patience, sairly duntet, Alang the road rins hirplin' down Beside neglectit merit, Whase heart gi'es mony a weary stoun', And broken is his spirit.
But de'il me care though fate whiles glooms, Gae, lassie, heat the water: Wi' fate we'll never fash our thumbs, But gar the gill-stoup clatter. Punch is a sea whare care ne'er sooms, But pleasure rides it rarely, We'll fill again whan this ane tooms, Then let us set till't fairly.
# Tamil Proverbs/சை

சை.

## சைகை அறியார் சற்றும் அறியார்.

    Those who cannot take a hint know nothing.

## சைவ முத்தையாமுதலியார்க்குச் சமைத்துப்போட வள்ளுவப் பண்டாரம்.

    The cook of the vegetarian Muttaiya of the Modelly caste, is a pariah mendicant.
# Tamil Proverbs/ஞ

ஞ.

## ஞாபகம் இல்லை என்று எவனும் சொல்வான், ஞானம் இல்லை என்று எவனும் சொல்லான்.

    Any may say I have forgotten, none says I have no sense.

## ஞாயப் பிரமாணம் இல்லாத குருக்கள் வீண்.

    Teachers without moral rules are vain.

## ஞானமும் கல்வியும் நாழி அரிசியிலே.

    Wisdom and learning are contained in a measure of rice. -

## ஞானம் எல்லாம் ஒரு மூட்டை; உலகம் எல்லாம் ஒரு கோட்டை.

    Collective wisdom is a bundle, and the whole world a fort.

## ஞானம் இல்லாச் சேயர்கள் ஆவின் கன்றிலும் அதிகமல்ல.

    Ignorant children, are not better than calves.

## ஞானம் தனத்தையும் கனத்தையும் கொடுக்கும்.

    Wisdom gives wealth and honour.

## ஞானிக்கு இல்லை இன்பமும் துன்பமும்.

    The wise are not affected by pleasure and pain.

## ஞானிக்கும் மூடனுக்கும் சங்காத்தம் இல்லை.

    A wise man and a fool do not associate.
# Tamil Proverbs/சொ

சொ.

## சொக்கனுக்குச் சட்டி அளவு.

    The size of the chatty is enough for the Chetty’s attendant.

## சொக்கட்டான் விளையாட்டுப் பொல்லாத சூது.

    The game of draughts is ruinous.

## சொட்டைவாளைக் குட்டி போல.

    Like the young of a chottai válai fish.

## சொருகிக் கிடந்த அகப்பையும் சோறு அள்ளப் பறப்பட்டது.

    Even the ladle that had been cast aside as useless, is again serving out rice.

## சொல்லச் சொல்லப் பட்டி பெண்ணைப் பெண்ணைப் பெற்றாள்.

    Though again and again forbidden, Patti-a strumpet-brought forth only daughters.

## சொல்லச் சொல்ல மட்டி மண்ணைத் தின்கிறான்.

    Though frequently forbidden, Matti-a fool-eats earth.

## சொல்லாமல் இருக்கிறவனே பண்டிதன்.

    He who is of few words is a pundit.

## சொல்லிச் செய்வார் சிறியோர்; சொல்லாமற் செய்வார் பெரியோர், சொல்லியும் செய்யார் கயவர்.

    Inferiors may keep their word, the great do a thing without promising, but the wicked act not even after making a promise.

## சொல்லிக் கொடுத்த சொல்லும் கட்டிக் கொடுத்த சோறும் எதுவரையில்?

    How long will the words put into one’s mouth, and the rice tied up for a journey avail us?

## சொல்லுகிறது ஒன்று செய்கிறது ஒன்று.

    Saying one thing, and doing another.

## சொல்லுக்கும் பொருளுக்கும் எட்டாதான் சோதிக்கும் சாதிக்கும் நடுவானான்.

    He whom neither language nor wealth can influence, has come between God and man.

## சொல்லும் சொல் ஆக்கமும் கேடும் தரும்.

    A word uttered may bring wealth as well as ruin.

## சொல்லும் பொருளும் தோன்றும் கல்வி.

    Learning is conversant with words and things.

## சொல் வல்லனை வெல்லல் அரிது.

    It is difficult to overcome the eloquent.

## சொல்வளம் இல்லா நற்கதை சொல்லில் அதுவே துர்க்கதை.

    A good story badly told, soon loses its effect.

## சொல்வது யார்க்கும் எளிது, அரியவாம் சொல்லிய வண்ணம் செயல்.

    Saying is easy, but doing is difficult.

## சொல்வது இலேசு செய்வது அல்லவா பிரயாசம்?

    It is easy to profess, but difficult to perform, is it not?

## சொல்வார் சொன்னாலும் கேட்பாருக்கு மதி இல்லையா?

    No matter what others say, have not those who hear, sense to judge for themselves?

## சொறிந்து தேயாத எண்ணையும் பரிந்து இடாத சோறும் பாழ்.

    Oil applied without rubbing the head, and boiled rice given with ill-will, are useless.

## சொறியாந் தவளையும் வேட்டை ஆடுகிறதாம்.

    It is said that even toads go a hunting.

## சொற்பேச்சையும் கேளான் சுயபுத்தியும் இல்லை.

    He has no sense, he will not listen to advice.

## சொற்றிறம் கூறல் கற்றவர்க்கு அழகு.

    It becomes the learned to explain the force of words.

## சொன்னதைச் சொல்லும் கிளிப்பிள்ளை.

    The parrot will utter what it is taught,

## சொன்னதைச் சொல்லடி சுணைகெட்ட மூளி.

    Say what you are told, you senseless, deformed wretch.

## சொன்னது இருக்கச் சுரை பிடுங்குகிறாய்.

    Neglecting what you were told to do, you pull up the beans.

## சொன்னபடி கேட்காவிட்டால் மண்ணை வெட்டி மாப் படைப்பேன்.

    If you do not do as I say, I will make an offering of earth.
    Addressed to a demon when driving him out.

## சொன்னால் வெட்கம்; அழுதால் துக்கம்.

    It is shameful to tell it, and painful to weep over it.

## சொன்னாற் பெரும்பிழை சோறென்றாற் பட்டினி.

    As regards rice, he is famishing, but it would be a fault to say so.
# Tamil Proverbs/சோ

சோ.

## சோம்பல் இல்லாத் தொழில் சோதனை இல்லாத் துணை.

    Untiring service is reliable help.

## சோம்பலுக்குத் தொடர்ச்சி வறுமை; சும்மா இருத்தலுக்குத் தொடர்ச்சி மூடம்.

    Indolence leads to poverty, inaction to ignorance.

## சோம்பலே சோறு இன்மைக்குப் பிதா.

    Indolence is the parent of want.

## சோம்பேறிக்கு வாழைப்பழம் தோலோடே.

    The sluggard eats his plantain, skin and all.

## சோழ மண்டலமோ? சூது மண்டலமோ?

    Is it the realm of Chola, or the realm of deceit?

## சோளியைப் பிடுங்கிக் கொண்டா பிச்சை போடுகிறது?

    Is it after snatching away his bag one gives alms to a beggar?

## சோறு என்ன செய்யும் சொன்னவண்ணம் செய்யும்.

    What can rice effect? whatever you like.

## சோறு சிந்தினால் பொறுக்கலாம்; சுணை சிந்தினால் பொறுக்கலாமா?

    If rice be spilt it may be picked up, but if one loses his sense of honour can he recover that?

## சோறு சிந்தினால் பொறுக்கலாம் நீர் சிந்தினால் பொறுக்கலாமா?

    If rice be spilt it may be picked up, can water?

## சோற்றில் இருக்கிற கல் எடுக்கமாட்டாதவன் முகனைக்கல் எடுப்பானா?

    Can he who would not pick a stone out of the rice, lift up the stone lintel of a temple gateway?

## சோற்றில் இருந்த கல் எடாதவன் சேற்றில் கிடக்கிற எருமையைத் தூக்குவானா?

    Can he who will not pick a stone out of his rice, lift a buffalo out of the mud?

## சோற்றுக்கு வீங்கின நாயே, மாட்டுப் பொங்கலுக்கு வாயே.

    Thou dog, greedy of boiled rice, come to the January ox-festival.

## சோற்றுக்கு இல்லாத பூசணிக்காய் பந்தலிலே கட்டி ஆட்டவோ?

    Of what use is a pumpkin which will not be available for food, is it to be suspended to a pandal swing?

## சோற்றுச் சுவையோடு தொத்தி வந்த நொள்ளை.

    The blind that came drawn by the smell of rice.

## சோற்றுக்குக் கேடும் பூமிக்குப் பாரமுமாய் இருக்கிறான்.

    He is a waste of rice, he is a burden to the earth.

## சோற்றைக் கொடுத்துக் கழுத்தை அறுக்கிறதா?

    What, to cut one’s throat after giving rice?
# Tamil Proverbs/சௌ

சௌ.