OpenLLM-France/wikimedia huggingface dataset:
# The Bald Man and the Fly

Perry index 525
* "Of the Balled Man and of the Flye", translated by William Caxton, edited by Joseph Jacobs, in The fables of Aesop, as first printed by William Caxton in 1484 (1484)
* "The Bald Man and the Fly", translated by George Fyler Townsend, in Three Hundred Æsop's Fables (1867)
* "The Bald Man and the Fly", translated by Joseph Jacobs, edited by Joseph Jacobs, illustrated by Richard Heighway, in The Fables of Æsop (1894)
* "The Bald Man and the Fly", translated by Vernon Stanley Jones, illustrated by Arthur Rackham, in Æsop's fables: A New Translation (1912)
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 Baggage Wagon

published in: Vindicator (1872); "All Quiet Along The Potomac, and Other Poems (1879) OCLC:1306531
In from the ferry's pulsing door,  In by the railroad gate, Comes all day long the baggage home,  Mighty in size and weight.
Trunks with their canvass quite unfurled;  Boxes in woeful trim, With garments dried in country sun,  Tumbled and tossed within.
Under the locks what finery  Lies travel-stained and worn; Limp muslins with the sea kiss on,  Flounces on fences torn.
(For how could Kitty stop to think  Of dress on sea-sand wet, When Fred was whispering the while  A vow she don't forget?
Or how could Lily spare her flounces.  Scrambling in breathles(s) fright, When silvertop was coming near  To woe her, if he might?)
Methinks mamma will open wide  Her pretty eyes to see How schoolboy Fred has packed his trunk  With trophies recklessly:
Risking, by Bramah Poofra eggs,  The shine of Sunday clothes; A tortoise in the collar box,  Bird's nests on satin bows.
But oh! there's baggage coming home  In yonder jostled pile; Packed, outward bound, not long ago,  With jest and happy smile;
Seeking our now stricken heart,  Hands that shall softly move The folded garments with the touch  We give to things we love.
O solemn garments, needed not!  O childish treasures, dearer far For wear of little baby hands  Than jewels newly burnished are!
O empty glove and kerchief smooth!  O idle shoe that treads no more Life's measure to the tune of Time!  O treasures dropped on Jordan's shore!
I dream to-day as dreamers must;  I see dim shadows come, Claiming their own with smile and tear  As noisy wheels bring baggage home.
# The Bald Knight

* related authors: Aesop.
* sister projects: Wikidata item.
Perry index 375
* "A Horſe-man's Wig Blown off", translated by Roger L'Estrange, in Fables of Æsop and Other Eminent Mythologists (1692)
* "The Bald Knight", translated by George Fyler Townsend, in Three Hundred Æsop's Fables (1867)
* "The Bald Huntsman", translated by Vernon Stanley Jones, in Æsop's fables: A New Translation (1912)
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 Bag

* Search for titles containing or beginning with: "The Bag."
* sister projects: Wikidata item.
This is a disambiguation page. It lists works that share the same title. If an article link referred you here, please consider editing it to point directly to the intended page.
* "The Bag", a poem by George Herbert
* "The Bag", a short story by Saki
# The Balance

The world upheld their pillars for awhile: Now, where imperial On and Carthage stood, The hot wind sifts across the solitude The sand that once was wall and peristyle; Or furrows like the main each tawny mile Where, ocean-deep above its ancient food Of cities fame-forgot, the waste is nude, Traceless as billows of each sunken pile.
Lo! for that wrong shall vengeance come at last, When the devouring earth, in ruin one With royal walls and palaces undone, In dust far-blown from the orbit of the past, Shall drift, and winds that wrangle through the vast Immingle it with ashes of the sun.
This work is in the public domain in the United States because it was published before January 1, 1929.
The longest-living author of this work died in 1961, so this work is in the public domain in countries and areas where the copyright term is the author's life plus 62 years or less. 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 Church Militant

* Search for titles containing or beginning with: "The Church Militant."
* sister projects: Wikidata item.
This is a disambiguation page. It lists works that share the same title. If an article link referred you here, please consider editing it to point directly to the intended page.
* "The Church Militant", a poem by George Herbert
* "The Church Militant", a short story by Barry Pain
# The Church Quarterly Review

* related portals: Periodicals.
* sister projects: Wikipedia article, quotes, Wikidata item.

## Volume 94
### Issue 188

* The Witch-Cult in Western Europe. A Study in Anthropology. By M. A. Murray
# The Church Manual (Church of the Brethren)/Chapter 6

CHAPTER VI
ON TAKING THE OATH.
We believe it wrong to swear or to take the civil oath in giving our evidence before courts of justice or elsewhere, but simply affirm or deny by using the Scriptural expressions "yea" and "nay." "But above all things, my brethren, swear not, neither by heaven, neither by the earth, neither by any other oath: but let your yea be yea; and your nay, nay; lest ye fall into condemnation." James 5: 12. See also Matt. 5: 34-37.
# The Church Manual (Church of the Brethren)/Chapter 7

CHAPTER VII
TEMPERANCE.
We believe temperance to be a moderate use of the things that are essential and ​useful, and total abstinence from such things as are harmful or lead to evil, 1 Thess. 5: 22. The Brethren church has ever been a standing monument against the manufacture, sale and use of intoxicating liquors of all kinds as a beverage, admitting their use only when necessary for medical and mechanical purposes.
# The Church Manual (Church of the Brethren)/Chapter 8

CHAPTER VIII.
CONFORMITY TO THE WORLD.
We believe it to be wrong, according to the letter and spirit of the Gospel, to conform to the vain fashions, maxims and customs of the world. "And be not conformed to this world: but be ye transformed by the renewing of your mind, that ye may prove what is that good, and acceptable, and perfect will of God." Rom. 12: 2. "In like manner also, that women adorn themselves in modest apparel, with shamefacedness and sobriety; not with braided hair, or gold, or pearls, or costly array." 1 Tim. 2: 9. "Whose adorning, let it not be that outward ​adorning of plaiting the hair, and of wearing of gold, or of putting on of apparel." 1 Pet. 3: 3.
# The Church Manual (Church of the Brethren)/Chapter 9

CHAPTER IX.
CHURCH COVENANT.
Persons desirous of becoming members of the church of the Brethren are received in the following manner:
First the applicants shall be visited by two or more brethren whose duty it is to examine them as to their convictions, their faith in Christ and their agreement with the doctrines of the church as taught in the Scriptures, such as the ordinances, as we practice them, non-resistance, non-swearing, non-conformity and the avoiding of secret, oath-bound societies. If this examination is satisfactory, the applications are then reported to the church and if no objections are made, on the part of the membership, the persons desiring to become members of the church are received as applicants for baptism. They are then called before the church and informed of their reception.
As a rule for the government of their lives and dealing with each other after becoming members of the church, the following part of the 18th chapter of Matthew is read:
​ ​ ​ministry when needed, for missionary work, for supporting the poor, and every other good work that tends to the enlargement of Christ's kingdom on earth and the good of its subjects.
We also engage to live truthful and exemplary lives before the world; to have private devotions in our family; to religiously instruct and educate our children; to labor for the physical and spiritual good of our neighbors and those with whom we associate; to be honest and upright in all of our dealings, faithful in our engagements, and exemplary in our deportment; to watch over each other in brotherly love, pray for each other and aid each other in sickness and distress, ever remembering that best of all rules: "Do unto others as you would have others do unto you."
# The Church Manual (Church of the Brethren)/Index

​INDEX
Anointing the Sick, how done—the Form 14
Appeals, Motions and Resolutions 57
Baptism, Mode and Subject 10
Bishops or Elders, how Ordained—Duties 24
Burial Services, Services at the Grave 45,46
Church Covenant, Applicants, how Received 18
Church Officers; Deacons—their Duties; Trustees, Treasurer, Clerk, Sexton—their Duties 24-32
Church Meetings, how Conducted 32
Church, Visible, baptized Believers 11
Church Visit, Design, Questions asked 21
Civil Government, our Duties toward it 13
Committees 62
Communion, the 12
Conformity to the World 17
Deacons, their Duties 30
Debate 59
Declaration of Faith 7
Elders, Ordination 25
Family Prayer 49
Family Worship, how Conducted 48
Feet-washing 11 ​How to Pray 50
Justification 11
Lord's Supper 12
Marriage Ceremony 43
Marriage Relation 42
Ministers, in first Degree, how Elected and Installed 28
Ministers, in second Degree, how Advanced- Duties 27
Morning Prayer 50
Non-resistance 14
Offenses, how Settled 34
On Taking the Oath 16
Order and Succession of Questions 59
Parliamentary Rulings 55
Prayer-meetings, how Conducted 40
Prayer, Private 52
Prayer, Table 54
Questions of Order 58
Regeneration 10
Repentance 9
Rules of Order 56
Sabbath, the 12
Sunday-schools, how Organized, Officers and how Elected 36
Table Prayer 54
Taking Questions 61
Temperance 16
Yeas and Nays 61
# The Book of Scottish Song/The Braes of Branksome

The Braes of Branksome.
[This appears in the second volume of the Tea Table Miscellany with the title of "The Generous Gentleman, a song to the tune of the Bonnie Lass of Branksome." It was written by Ramsay himself. Mr. Robert Chambers says the song was founded on a real incident. "The bonnie lass was daughter to a woman who kept an alehouse at the hamlet near Branksome Castle, in Teviotdale. A young officer, of some rank,—his name we believe was Maitland,—happened to be quartered somewhere in the neighbourhood, saw, loved, and married her. So strange was such an alliance deemed in those days, that the old mother, under whose auspices it was performed, did not escape the imputation of witchcraft."]
As I cam' in by Teviot side, And by the braes of Branksome, There first I saw my bonnie bride, Young, smiling, sweet, and handsome. Her skin was safter than the down, And white as alabaster; Her hair, a shining, waving brown; In straightness nane surpass'd her.
Life glow'd upon her lip and cheek, Her clear een were surprising, And beautifully turn'd her neck, Her little breasts just rising: Nae silken hose with gushats fine, Or shoon with glancing laces, On her bare leg, forbad to shine Weel-shaped native graces.
Ae little coat and bodice white Was sum o' a' her claithing; E'en these oer muckle;—mair delight She'd given clad wi' naething. ​We lean'd upon a flowery brae, By which a burnie trotted; On her I glowr'd my soul away, While on her sweets I doated.
A thousand beauties of desert Before had scarce alarm'd me, Till this dear artless struck my heart, And, bot designing, charm'd me. Hurried by love, close to my breast I clasp'd this fund of blisses,— Wha smiled, and said, Without a priest, Sir, hope for nocht but kisses.
I had nae heart to do her harm, And yet I couldna want her; What she demanded, ilka charm O' hers pled I should grant her. Since heaven had dealt to me a routh, Straight to the kirk I led her; There plighted her my faith and trouth, And a young lady made her.
# The Book of Scottish Song/The Brakens wi' me

The Brakens wi' me.
[James Hogg.—Air, "Driving the Steer."]
I'll sing of yon glen o' red heather, An' a dear thing that ca's it her hame, Wha's a' made o' love life together, Frae the tie o' the shoe to the kembe. Love beckons in ev'ry sweet motion, Commanding due homage to gi'e; But the shrine of my dearest devotion Is the bend o' her bonnie e'e bree.
I fleech'd and I prayd the dear lassie To gang to the brakens wi' me, But though neither lordly nor saucy, Her answer was, "Laith will I be. Ah! is it nae cruel to press me To that which wad breed my heart wae,
An' try to entice a poor lassie The gate she's o'er ready to gae.
"I neither ha'e father nor mither, Good counsel or caution to gi'e, And prudence has whisper'd me never To gang to the brakens wi' thee. ​I neither ha'e tocher nor mailings, I ha'e but ae boast—I am free; But a' wad be tint, without failing, Amang the green brakens wi' thee."
"Dear lassie, how can ye upbraid me, And by your ain love to beguile, For ye are the richest young lady That ever gaed o'er the kirk-stile? Your smile that is blither than ony, The bend o' your sunny e'e-bree, And the love-blinks aneath it sae bonnie Are five hunder thousand to me."
There's joy in the blythe blooming feature, When love lurks in every young line; There's joy in the beauties of nature, There's joy in the dance and the wine; But there's a delight will ne'er perish 'Mong pleasures so fleeting and vain, And that is to love and to cherish The fond little heart that's our ain.
# The Book of Scottish Song/The Braes aboon Bonaw

The Braes aboon Bonaw.
[Written and musie arranged by W. Gilfillan.]
Wilt thou go, my bonnie lassie, Wilt thou go, my braw lassie, Wilt thou go, say ay or nay, To the braes aboon Bonaw, lassie?
Though Donald ha'e nae mickle fraise, Wi' Lawland speeches fine, lassie, What he'll impart comes frae the heart, Sae let it be frae thine, lassie. Wilt thou go, &c.
Wi' siller clasp I'll deck thy waist, Wi' silken snood thy hair, lassie; Thou'lt sleep 'twixt Donald and the wa', On bed o' bent sae rare, lassie. Wilt thou go, &c.
When summer days cleed a' the braes Wi' blossom'd broom sae fine, lassie, At milking sheel, we'll join the reel, My flocks shall a' be thine, lassie. Wilt thou go, &c.
I'll hunt the roe, the hart, the doe, The tarmigan sae shy, lassie, For duck an' drake I'll beat the brake, Nae want shall thee come nigh, lassie. Wilt thou go, &c.
For trout an' par, wi' canny care, I'll wylie skim the flee, lassie; Wi' sic like cheer I'll please my dear, Then come awa' wi' me, lassie. Wilt thou go, &c.
"Yes, I'll go, my bonnie laddie, Yes, I'll go, my braw laddie; I'll kilt my coats, I'll tent the goats, On the braes aboon Bonaw, laddie.
"Gin thou'lt prove true thou's never rue The love thou bear'st for me, laddie, Ilk joy an' care wi' thee I'll share, Until the day I dee, laddie. Come awa', my bonnie laddie. Come awa', my braw laddie Come weel, come wae, I'll kilt and gae, To the braes aboon Bonaw, laddie."
# The Book of Scottish Song/The Braes o' Ballochmyle

The Braes o' Ballochmyle.
[Written by Burns in 1788, and set to music by his friend Allan Masterton. Ballochmyle, before it came into the hands of Mr. Alexandor, was the seat of the Whitefoord family, and the song was written as a farewell to the family residence. The Maria mentioned in the song was the eldest daughter of Sir John Whitefoord. She afterwards became Mrs. Cranston. Caleb Whitefoord, celebrated by Goldsmith in his poem of "The Retaliation," belonged to this family.]
The Catrine woods were yellow seen, The flowers decay'd on Catrine lea, Nae lav'rock sang on hillock green, But nature sicken'd on the e'e. Through faded groves Maria sang, Hersel' in beauty's bloom the while, And aye the wild-wood echoes rang, Fareweel the Braes o' Ballochmyle!
Low in your wintry beds, ye flowers, Again ye'll flourish fresh and fair; Ye burdies dumb, in with'ring bowers, Again ye'll charm the vocal air. But here, alas! for me nae mair Shall birdie charm, or floweret smile; Fareweel, the bonnie banks of Ayr, Fareweel, fareweel! sweet Ballochmyle!
# The Book of Scottish Song/The Braes o' Bedlay

The Braes o’ Bedlay.
[Written by Walter Watson, weaver at Chryston, in Stirlingshire, and author of the popular songs, "Sae will we yet," and "Jockie 's far awa'." The braes of Bedlay are situated near Chryston, about seven miles to the north of Glasgow.—Tune, "Hills of Glenorchy."]
When I think on the sweet smiles o' my lassie, My cares flee awa' like a thief frae the day: My heart loups light, an' I join in a sang Amang the sweet birds on the braes o' Bedlay: How sweet the embrace, yet how honest the wishes, When luve fa's a-wooin', an' modesty blushes, Whar Mary an' I meet amang the green bushes, That screen us sae weel on the braes o' Bedlay.
There's nane sae trig, or sae fair, as my lassie, An' mony a wooer she answers wi' Nay, Wha fain wad ha'e her to lea'e me alane, An' meet me nae mair on the braes o' Bedlay. I fearna, I carena, their braggin' o' siller, Nor a' the fine things they can think on to tell her; Nae vauntin' can buy her, nae threat'nin' can sell her, It's luve leads her out to the braes o' Bedlay.
We'll gang by the links o' the wild rowin' burnie, Whar aft in my mornin' o' life I did stray, Whar luve was invited and care was beguil'd, By Mary an' me, on the braes o' Bedlay: Sae lovin', sae movin', I'll tell her my story, Unmix't wi' the deeds o' ambition for glory, Whar wide spreadin' hawthorns, sae ancient and hoary, Enrich the sweet breeze on the braes o' Bedlay.
# The Book of Scottish Song/The Braes o' Gleniffer

The Braes o' Gleniffer.
[This beautiful song was written by Tannahill to the old air of "Bonnie Dundee." Mr. Ross of Aberdeen also composed a tune for it. Gleniffer braes lie at a short distance south-west of Paisley.]
Keen blaws the wind o'er the braes o' Gleniffer,
The auld castle turrets are cover'd wi' snaw, How changed frae the time when I met wi' my lover, Amang the broom bushes by Stanley green shaw. The wild flowers o' simmer were spread a' sae bonnie, The mavis sang sweet frae the green birken tree; But far to the camp they ha'e march'd my dear Johnnie, And now it is winter wi' nature and me.
Then ilk thing around us was blythesome and cheerie, Then ilk thing around us was bonnie and braw; Now naething is heard but the wind whistling drearie, And naething is seen but the wide-spreading snaw. The trees are a' bare, and the birds mute and dowie, They shake the cauld drift frae their wings as they flee; And chirp out their plaints, seeming wae for my Johnnie; 'Tis winter wi' them and 'tis winter wi' me. ​Yon cauld sleety cloud skiffs alang the bleak mountain, And shakes the dark fire on the stey rocky brae, While down the deep glen brawls the snaw-flooded fountain, That murmur'd sae sweet to my laddie and me. It's no its loud roar on the wintry winds swellin', It's no the cauld blast brings the tear to my e'e, For, O! gin I saw but my bonnie Scots callan, The dark days o' winter were simmer to me.
# The Book of Scottish Song/The Braes of Ballahun

The Braes of Ballahun.
[Thomas Cunningham. Ballahun is a picturesque glen near Blackwood House, on the river Nith.]
Now smiling summer's balmy breeze, Soft whispering, fans the leafy trees: The linnet greets the rosy morn, Sweet in yon fragrant flowery thorn; The bee hums round the woodbine bower, Collecting sweets from every flower; And pure the crystal streamlets run Amang the braes of Ballahun.
O blissful days, for ever fled, When wand'ring wild as Fancy led, I ranged the bushy bosom'd glen, The scroggie shaw, the rugged linn, And mark'd each blooming hawthorn bush, Where nestling sat the speckled thrush; Or careless roaming, wandered on, Amang the braes of Ballahun.
Why starts the tear, why bursts the sigh, When hills and dales rebound with joy? The flowery glen, and lilied lea In vain display their charms to me. I joyless roam the heathy waste, To soothe this sad, this troubled breast; And seek the haunts of men to shun Amang the braes of Ballahun.
The virgin blush of lovely youth, The angel smile of artless truth, This breast illum'd with heavenly joy, Which lyart time can ne'er destroy: Julia dear!—the parting look, The sad farewell we sorrowing took, Still haunt me as I stray alone Amang the braes of Ballahun.
# The Complete Poems of Paul Laurence Dunbar/Sonnet

SONNET
ON AN OLD BOOK WITH UNCUT LEAVES
Emblem of blasted hope and lost desire,  No finger ever traced thy yellow page  Save Time's. Thou hast not wrought to noble rage The hearts thou wouldst have stirred. Not any fire Save sad flames set to light a funeral pyre  Dost thou suggest. Nay,—impotent in age,  Unsought, thou holdst a corner of the stage And ceasest even dumbly to aspire.
How different was the thought of him that writ.  What promised he to love of ease and wealth, When men should read and kindle at his wit.  But here decay eats up the book by stealth, While it, like some old maiden, solemnly, Hugs its incongruous virginity!
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 Complete Poems of Paul Laurence Dunbar/Snowin'

SNOWIN
Dey is snow upon de meddahs, dey is snow upon de hill, An' de little branch's watahs is all glistenin' an' still; De win' goes roun' de cabin lak a sperrit wan'erin' 'roun'. An' de chillen shakes an' shivahs as dey listen to de soun'. Dey is hick'ry in de fiahplace, whah de blaze is risin' high, But de heat it meks ain't wa'min' up de gray clouds in de sky. Now an' den I des peep outside, den I hurries to de do', Lawd a mussy on my body, how I wish it would n't snow!
I kin stan' de hottes' summah, I kin stan' de wettes' fall, I kin stan' de chilly springtime in de ploughland, but dat's all; Fu' de ve'y hottes' fiah nevah tells my skin a t'ing, W'en de snow commence a-flyin', an' de win' begin to sing. Dey is plenty wood erroun' us, an' I chop an' tote it in, But de t'oughts dat I 's a t'inkin' while I 's wo'kin' is a sin. I kin keep f'om downright swahin' all de time I 's on de go, But my hea't is full o' cuss-wo'ds w'en I's trampin' thoo de snow.
What you say, you Lishy Davis, dat you see a possum's tracks? Look hyeah, boy, you stop yo' foolin', bring ol' Spot, an' bring de ax. Is I col'? Go way, now, Mandy, what you t'ink I's made of?—sho, W'y dis win' is des ez gentle, an' dis ain't no kin' o' snow. Dis hyeah weathah 's des ez healthy ez de wa'mest summah days. All you chillen step up lively, pile on wood an' keep a blaze. What's de use o' gittin' skeery case dey 's snow upon de groun'? Huh-uh, I 's a reg'lar snowbird ef dey 's any possum 'roun'.
Go on, Spot, don' be so foolish; don' you see de signs o' feet. What you howlin' fu? Keep still, suh, cose de col' is putty sweet; But we goin' out on bus'ness, an' hit 's bus'ness o' de kin' Dat mus' put a dog an' dahky in a happy frame o' min'. Yes, you 's col'; I know it, Spotty, but you des stay close to me, An' I 'll mek you hot ez cotton w'en we strikes de happy tree. No, I don' lak wintah weathah, an' I 'd wush 't uz allus June, Ef it was n't fu' de trackin' o' de possum an' de coon.
This work was published before January 1, 1929, and is in the public domain worldwide because the author died at least 100 years ago.
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