OpenLLM-France/wikimedia huggingface dataset:
# The Book of Enoch (Charles)/Chapter 59
### LIX. The Lights and the Thunder.

CHAPTER LIX.
1. [In those days mine eyes saw the secrets of the lightnings, and of the lights, and the judgements they execute (lit. ‘their judgement’): and they lighten for a blessing or a curse as the Lord of Spirits willeth. 2. And there I saw the secrets of the thunder, and how when it resounds above in the heaven, the sound thereof is heard, and he caused me to see the judgements executed on the earth, whether they be for well-being and blessing, or for a curse according to the word of the Lord of Spirits. 3. And after that all the secrets of the lights and lightnings were shown to me, and they lighten for blessing and for satisfying.]
# The Anabasis of Alexander/Book II

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BOOK II.
# The Anabasis of Alexander/Book I/Chapter XXVII

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CHAPTER XXVII.
Alexander in Phrygia and Pisidia.
The greater part of Aspendus had been built upon a strong and precipitous rock, at the very foot of which flows the river Eurymedon; but round the rock, on the low ground, were many of the citizens' houses, surrounded by a small wall. As soon as they ascertained that Alexander was approaching, the inhabitants deserted the wall and the houses situated on the low ground, which they thought they were unable to protect; and they fled in a body to the rock. When he arrived with his forces, he passed within the deserted wall and ​took up his quarters in the houses which had been abandoned by the Aspendians. When these saw that Alexander himself had come, contrary to their expectation, and that his camp was encircling them on all sides, they sent envoys to him, entreating him to form an agreement with them on the former terms. Alexander, considering the strength of the place, and how unprepared he was to undertake a long siege, entered into an agreement with them, though not on the same terms as before. For he ordered them to give him their most influential men as hostages, to hand over the horses which they had formerly agreed to give him, to pay 100 talents instead of fifty, to obey the viceroy appointed by him, and to pay an annual tribute to the Macedonians. Moreover he directed an inquiry to be held about the land which they were accused of holding by force, though it belonged of right to their neighbours.
When all these concessions had been made to him, he marched away to Perga, and thence set out for Phrygia, his route leading him past the city of Termessus. The people of this city are foreigners, of the Pisidian race, inhabiting a very lofty place, precipitous on every side; so that the road to the city is a difficult one. For a mountain stretches from the city as far as the road, where it suddenly stops short; and over against it rises another mountain, no less precipitous. These mountains form gates, as it were, upon the road; and it is possible for those who occupy these eminences even with a small guard to render the passage impracticable. On this occasion the Termissians had come out in a body, and were occupying both the mountains; seeing which, Alexander ordered the Macedonians to encamp there, armed as they were, imagining that the Termissians would not remain in a body when they saw them bivouacking, but that most of them would withdraw into their city, which was near, leaving upon the mountains ​only sufficient men to form a guard. And it turned out just as he conjectured; for most of them retired, and only a guard remained. He forthwith took the archers, the regiments of javelin-throwers, and the lighter hoplites, and led them against those who were guarding the pass. When these were attacked with missiles, they did not stand their ground, but abandoned the position. Alexander then passed through the defile, and encamped near the city.
# The Anabasis of Alexander/Book I/Chapter XXVIII

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CHAPTER XXVIII.
Operations in Pisidia.
While he was there, ambassadors came to him from the Selgians, who are also Pisidian barbarians, inhabiting a large city, and being warlike. Because they happened to be inveterate enemies to the Termessians they had despatched this embassy to Alexander, to treat for his friendship. He made a treaty with them, and from this time found them faithful allies in all his proceedings. Despairing of being able to capture Termessus without a great loss of time, he marched on to Sagalassus. This was also a large city, inhabited likewise by Pisidians; and though all the Pisidians are warlike, the men of this city were deemed the most so. On this occasion they had occupied the hill in front of the city, because it was no less strong than the walls, from which to attack the enemy; and there they were awaiting him. But Alexander drew up the phalanx of Macedonians in the following way: on the right wing, where he had himself taken up his position, he held the shield-bearing guards, and next to these he extended the foot Companions as far as the left wing, in the order that each of the generals had precedence in the array that day. On the left wing he stationed Amyntas, son of Arrhabaeus, as commander. ​In front of the right wing were posted the archers and Agrianians, and in front of the left wing the Thracian javelin-throwers under the command of Sitalces. But the cavalry were no use to him in a place so rough and unfavourable. The Termessians also had come to the aid of the Pisidians, and arrayed themselves with them. Alexander had already made an attack upon the mountain which the Pisidians were occupying, advancing up the most abrupt part of the ascent, when the barbarians from an ambuscade attacked him on both wings, in a place where it was very easy for themselves to advance, but where the route was very difficult for their enemy. The archers, who were the first to approach, were put to rout, inasmuch as they were insufficiently armed; but the Agrianians stood their ground, for the Macedonian phalanx was already drawing near, at the head of which Alexander himself was seen. When the battle became a hand-to-hand one, though the barbarians were destitute of armour, they rushed against the Macedonian hoplites, and fell wounded on all sides. Then, indeed, they gave way, after about 500 of them had been killed. As they were nimble and well-acquainted with the locality, they effected their retreat without difficulty; whereas the Macedonians, on account of the heaviness of their arms and their ignorance of the roads, durst not pursue them vigorously. Alexander therefore held off from the fugitives, and took their city by storm. Of those with him, Cleander, the general of the archers, and about twenty others were slain. Alexander then marched against the rest of the Pisidians, and took some of their strongholds by storm; others he won over to him by granting them terms of capitulation.
# The Book of Scottish Song/Gloamin'

Gloamin'.
[W. Gray.—Here first printed.—Tune, "Todlin' butt," &c.]
There's naething on yirth, I ken to compare, Wi' a walk in the gloamin', To snuff the fresh air; ​To frisk like a gawky, When naebody sees, An' jouk like a maukin Amang the green trees. O! the sweets o' the gloamin', How delicious they are! O! the young lover's dream Is behint them by far.
When ye gang through the streets O' our blethrin' wee town, Your best ye maun try a Lang face to ha'e on In the gloamin' ye sen' A' sic havers awa', In the micht o' your freedom Fu' crousely ye craw. O! the sweets, &c.
And should you some lo'ed ane, When wandering, meet, The shake o' the han', O! How cordial, how sweet! Ye feel, then, true pleasure, Unmixed wi' alloy, Warld's things ye forget In th' excess o' your joy. O! the sweets, &c.
# The Book of Scottish Song/Glen-na-H'Albyn

Glen-na-H'Albyn.
[Sunny.—Glen-na-h'Albyn, or Glen-more na-h'Albyn, the great glen of Caledonia, is a valley abounding in lakes which stretches north-east to south-west, the whole breadth of the kingdom, from the Moray Firth at Inverness to the Sound of Mull below Fort William.—Air, "Cadil gu lo."]
On the airy Ben-nevis the wind is awake; The boat's on the shallow, the ship on the lake. Ah! now in a moment my country I leave; The next I am far away, far on the wave. O! fare thee well, fare thee well, Glen-na-h'Albyn,
O! fare thee well, fare thee well, Glen-na-h'Albyn.
I was proud of the power and the fame of my chief, And to raise them was ever the aim of my life, And now in his greatness he turns me away, When my strength is decayed and my locks are worn grey. Oh! fare thee well, &c.
Farewell the grey stones of my ancestors' graves, I go to have mine of the foam of the waves; Or to die unlamented on Canada's shore, Where none of my fathers were gather'd before. Oh! fare thee well, &c.
# The Book of Scottish Song/Glendochart Vale

Glendochart Vale.
[Richard Gall.]
As I came through Glendochart vale, Where mists o'ertap the mountains grey A wee bit lassie met my view, As cantily she held her way: But O sic love each feature bore, She made my saul wi' rapture glow! An' aye she spake sae kind and sweet, I couldna keep my heart in tow. O speak na o' your courtly queans! My wee bit lassie fools them a': The little cuttie's done me skaith, She's stown my thoughtless heart awa'.
Her smile was like the grey-e'ed morn, Whan spreading on the mountain green; Her voice saft as the mavis' sang; An' sweet the twinkle o' her een: A boon her brow, sae bonnie brent, Her raven locks waved o'er her e'e; An' ilka slee bewitching glance Conveyed a dart o' love to me. O speak na o' your courtly queans, &c.
The lasses fair in Scotia's isle, Their beauties a' what tongue can tell? But o'er the fairest o' them a' My wee bit lassie bears the bell. O had I never mark'd her smile, Nor seen the twinkle o' her e'e! It might na been my lot the day, A waefu' lade o' care to dree. O speak na o' your courtly queans, &c.
# The Book of Scottish Song/Gloomy Winter

Gloomy Winter.
[This fine song was written by Tannahill about the year 1808, and the music arranged by R. A. Smith from what was considered an old air, called "Lord Balgonie's Favourite." The editor, however, of Albyn's Anthology (Alexander Campbell) afterwards claimed the air as his own.]
Gloomy winter's now awa', Saft the westlin' breezes blaw: 'Mang the birks o' Stanley-shaw The mavis sings fu' cheerie, O. Sweet the craw-flower's early bell Decks Gleniffer's dewy dell, Blooming like thy bonnie sel', My young, my artless dearie, O. ​Come, my lassie, let us stray O'er Glenkilloch's sunny brae, Blythly spend the gowden day 'Midst joys that never wearie, O. Towering o'er the Newton woods, Laverocks fan the snaw-white clouds; Siller saughs, wi' downie buds, Adorn the banks sae brierie, O.
Hound the sylvan fairy nooks, Feath'ry braikens fringe the rocks, 'Neath the brae the burnie jouks, And ilka thing is cheerie, O. Trees may bud, and birds may sing, Flowers may bloom, and verdure spring, Joy to me they canna bring, Unless wi' thee, my dearie, O.
# The Book of Scottish Song/Glen-Orra

Glen-Orra.
[This and the three following songs originally appeared in "The Harp of Renfrewshire," published at Paisley in 1819.]
The gale is high, the bark is light, Swiftly it glides the dark sea over, Why bear, ye waves, so base a freight, Why waft, ye winds, a vagrant lover. Wake, artless maid, thy dream is o'er, No bright'ning hope can gild to-morrow, Thy lover hails a distant shore, Nor thinks of thee far in Glen-Orra.
The moon is up, the maiden's gone, Where flower and tree the night dews cover, To weep by mountain streamlet lone, O'er perjur'd vows of faithless lover, Turn, faithless wretch, seek Orra's wild, To rapture raise the maiden's sorrow, Ah! see where love so lately smil'd, Cold, cold, she sinks in dark Glen-Orra.
The moon hangs pale o'er Orra's steep, And lists a hapless maiden sighing, The sullen night-winds, cavern'd, sleep, As loth to rave o'er maiden dying. The hue of death has blench'd the lip, The rosy cheek is pale with sorrow, Ere morn, death's chilly hand shall nip The loveliest flower in green Glen-Orra.
# The Book of Scottish Song/Glenaray

Glenaray.
[Evan M'Coll.—Tune, "Gradh geal mo chri."]
O why do I love thee, Glenaray, O why? 'Tis not for thy plains or thy woods waving high, Thy flowers wildly blooming, or brown heather braes, Glenaray, Glenaray, I care not for these.
I love thee,—but not for thy echoing hills, I court thee,—but not for thy crystalline rills; I haunt thee,—but not for thy fountains so clear, And the chase on thy mountains allures me not here.
Oh no! for unheeded the roe now skips by, The wild foaming cascade is nought in mine eye; Sweet glen! what then makes thee an Eden to me? 'Tis the lass with the bright and the blue rolling e'e.
Yes, maid of my love! as a bee that has found Some sweet-laden bloom, as it wanders around, Returns and returns oft to feast on his prize, Even so my heart moves to drink love from thine eyes.
False friendship may flatter, coy fortune may smile, And hope's dazzling meteor shine soon to beguile; Away with such shadows! there's nothing to me Like the lass with the bright and the blue rolling e'e.
# The Book of Scottish Song/Go to Berwick, Johnnie

Go to Berwick, Johnnie.
[The old tune of "Go to Berwick, Johnnie," is usually sung to a nursery doggrel, beginning,
Go, go, go, Go to Berwick, Johnnie; Thou shalt have the horse, And I shall have the poney.
The following verses are from Johnson's Museum, and are said to have been partly written by John Hamilton, music-seller, Edinburgh.]
Go to Berwick, Johnnie; Bring her frae the Border; Yon sweet bonnie lassie, Let her ga'e nae farther. English loons will twine ye O' the lovely treasure; But we'll let them ken, A sword wi' them we'll measure.
Go to Berwick, Johnnie, And regain your honour; Drive them ower the Tweed, And show our Scottish banner. I am Rob the king, And ye are Jock, my brither; But, before we lose her, We'll a' there thegither.
# The Book of Scottish Song/Good night and joy

Good night and joy.
[James Hogg.]
The year is wearin' to the wane, An' day is fadin' west awa', Loud raves the torrent an' the rain, An' dark the cloud comes down the shaw But let the tempest tout an' blaw, Upon his loudest winter horn, Good night an' joy be wi' you a', We'll maybe meet again the morn.
O we ha'e wander'd far an' wide, O'er Scotia's land of firth an' fell, An' mony a simple flower we've cull'd, An' twined them wi' the heather-bell: We've ranged the dingle an' the dell, The hamlet an' the baron's ha', Now let us tak' a kind farewell, Good night an' joy be wi' you a'!
Ye ha'e been kind as I was keen, An' follow'd where I led the way, Till ilka poet's lore we've seen Of this an' mony a former day. If e'er I led your steps astray, Forgi'e your minstrel ance for a'; A tear fa's wi' his parting lay— Good night an' joy be wi' you a'!
# The Book of Scottish Song/Go to him, then

Go to him, then.
[Robert Jamieson.]
Go to him, then, if thou canst go; Waste not a thought on me; My heart and mind are a' my story— They ance were dear to thee. But there is music in his gold, (I ne'er sae sweet could sing,) That finds a chord in every breast, In unison to ring.
The modest virtues dread the spell; The honest loves retire; The finer sympathies of soul Far other charms require. The breathings of my plaintive reed Sink dying in despair; The still small voice of gratitude, Even that is heard nae mair.
But, if thy heart can suffer thee, The powerful cause obey; And mount the splendid bed that wealth And pride for thee display. There gaily bid farewell to a' Love's trembling hopes and fears; While I my lonely pillow, here, Wash with unceasing tears.
Yet, in the fremmit arms of him, That half thy worth ne'er knew, O think na on my lang-tried love, How tender and how true! For sure 'twould break thy tender heart, My breaking heart to see, Wi' a' the wrangs and waes it tholed, And yet maun thole for thee.
# The Beauties of Burn's Poems/Address to the Toothach

ADDRESS to the TOOTHACH.
Written by the Author at a time when he was grievously tormented with that Disorder.
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# The Beauties of Burn's Poems/Address to the Unco Gude

Address to the Unco Gude,
or,
THE RIGIDLY RIGHTEOUS.
———o———
# The Beauties of Burn's Poems/Cotters' Saturday-Night

THE
BEAUTIES
OF
BURNS' POEMS.
The Cotter's Saturday-Night.
INSCRIBED TO R. A****, Esq.
Let not Ambition mock their useful toil, Their homely joys, and destiny obscure; Nor Grandeur hear, with a disdainful smile, The short but simple annals of the Poor.—GRAY.
* ↑ Pope's Windsor-Forest.
* ↑ Pope's Essay on Man.
# The Beauties of Burn's Poems/Farewell to the Brethren of St. James's Lodge

THE FAREWELL,
TO THE BRETHREN OF ST. JAMES'S LODGE, TARBOLTON.
Tune—Gude Night and Joy be wi' you a'.
Finis.
# The Beauties of Burn's Poems/From thee, Eliza, I must go

SONG.
Tune—Gilderoy.
# The Beauties of Burn's Poems/Address to a Mouse

TO A MOUSE,
On turning up her Nest with the Plough, Nov. 1783.
# The Beauties of Burn's Poems/Death and Doctor Hornbook

Death and Doctor Hornbook,
A TRUE STORY.
* ↑ This reincourter happened in Seed-time, 1785,
* ↑ An epidemical fever was then raging in that country.
* ↑ This Gentleman, Dr. Hornbook, is professionably a brother of the Sovereign Order of the Ferula; but, by intuition and inspiration, is at once an Apothecary, Surgeon, and Physician.
* ↑ Buchan's Domestic Medicines
* ↑ The Grave-digger.
# The Beauties of Burn's Poems/Green grow the Rashes

Green grow the Rashes.
A FRAGMENT.
# The Beauties of Burn's Poems/Address to the Diel

ADDRESS to the DIEL.
# The Beauties of Burn's Poems/Epitaph on Holy Willie

Epitaph on Holy Willie.
# The Book of Scottish Song/John Highlandman

John Highlandman.
[This forms the "Raucle Carline's" song in Burn's Jolly Beggars. It is given in the fifth volume of George Thomson's collection, to the tune of "The White Cockade." Others adapt it to the tune of "O an ye were dead, guidman."]
A Highland lad my love was born, The Lawland laws he held in scorn; But he still was faithful to his clan, My gallant, braw John Highlandman! Sing hey, my braw John Highlandman! Sing ho, my braw John Highlandman! There's not a lad in a' the land, Was match for my John Highlandman!
With his philabeg and tartan plaid, And gude claymore down by his side, The ladies' hearts he did trepan, My gallant braw John Highlandman.
We ranged a' from Tweed to Spey, And lived like lords and ladies gay; For a Lawland face he feared none, My gallant braw John Highlandman.
They banish'd him beyond the sea; But, ere the bud was on the tree, Adown my checks the pearls ran, Embracing my John Highlandman.
But, och! they catched him at the last, And bound him in a dungeon fast; My curse upon them every one, They've hang'd my braw John Highlandman!
And now, a widow, I must mourn Departed joys that ne'er return, No comfort but a hearty can, When I think on John Highlandman.
# The Book of Scottish Song/John Tod

John Tod.
He's a terrible man, John Tod, John Tod, He's a terrible man, John Tod; He scolds in the house, he scolds at the door, He scolds in the very hie road, John Tod, He scolds in the very hie road.
The weans a' fear John Tod, John Tod, The weans a' fear John Tod; When he's passing by, the mothers will cry, Here's an ill wean, John Tod, John Tod, Here's an ill wean, John Tod.
The callants a' fear John Tod, John Tod, The callants a' fear John Tod; If they steal but a neep, the laddie he'll whip, And it's unco weel done o' John Tod, John Tod, And it's unco weel done o' John Tod.
And saw ye nae little John Tod, John Tod? O saw ye nae little John Tod? His shoon they were re'in, and his feet they were seen, But stout does he gang on the road, John Tod, But stout does he gang on the road.
How is he fendin', John Tod, John Tod? How is he fendin', John Tod? He is scourin' the land wi' a rung in his hand, And the French wadna frighten John Tod, John Tod, And the French wadna frighten John Tod.
Ye're sun-burnt and batter'd, John Tod, John Tod, Ye're tautit and tatter'd, John Tod; Wi' your auld strippit cowl ye look maist like a fule; But there's nouse in the linin', John Tod, John Tod, But there's nouse in the linin', John Tod.
He's weel respeckit, John Tod, John Tod, He's weel respeckit, John Tod; Though a terrible man, we'd a' gang wrang, If he should leave us, John Tod, John Tod, If he should leave us, John Tod.
# The Book of Scottish Song/John o' Badenyon

John o' Badenyon.
[Written to an old Highland strathspey, called John o' Badenyon, by the Rev. John Skinner.]
When first I came to be a man, of twenty years, or so, I thought myself a handsome youth, and fain the world would know; In best attire I stept abroad, with spirits brisk and gay; And here, and there, and every where, was like a morn in May. So care I had, no fear of want, but rambled up and down; And for a beau I might have pass'd in country or in town: I still was pleased where'er I went; and, when I was alone, I tuned my pipe, and pleased myself wi' John o' Badenyon.
Now in the days of youthful prime, a mistress I must find; For love, they say, gives one an air, and ev'n improves the mind
On Phillis fair, above the rest, kind fortune fix'd mine eyes; Her piercing beauty struck my heart and she became my choice. To Cupid, now, with hearty prayer, I offer'd many a vow, And danced and sung, and sigh'd and swore, as other lovers do, But when at last I breathed my flame, I found her cold as stone— I left the girl, and tuned my pipe to John o' Badenyon.
When love had thus my heart beguiled with foolish hopes and vain, To friendship's port I steer'd my course, and laugh'd at lovers' pain: A friend I got by lucky chance—'twas something like divine; An honest friend's a precious gift, and such a gift was mine. And now, whatever may betide, a happy man was I, In any strait I knew to whom I freely might apply. A strait soon came; my friend I tried—he laugh'd, and spurn'd my moan; I hied me home, and tuned my pipe to John o' Badenyon.
I thought I should be wiser next, and would a patriot turn, Began to doat on Johnie Wilkes, and cry'd up parson Horne; Their noble spirit I admir'd, and praised their noble zeal, Who had, with flaming tongue and pen, maintain'd the public weal. But, e'er a month or two had pass'd, I found myself betray'd; 'Twas Self and Party, after all, for all the stir they made. At last I saw these factious knaves insult the very throne; I cursed them all, and tuned my pipe to John o' Badenyon.
What next to do I mused a while, still hoping to succeed; I pitch'd on books for company, and gravely tried to read: I bought and borrowed every where, and studied night and day, Nor miss'd what dean or doctor wrote, that happen'd in my way. Philosophy I now esteem'd the ornament of youth, And carefully, through many a page, I hunted after truth: A thousand various schemes I tried, and yot was pleased with none; I throw them by, and tuned my pipe to John o' Badenyon.
And now, ye youngsters everywhere, who wish to make a show, Take heed in time, nor vainly hope for happiness below; What you may fancy pleasure here is but an empty name; And girls, and friends, and books also, you'll find them all the same. ​Then be advised, and warning take from such a man as me; I'm neither pope nor cardinal, nor one of high degree; You'll meet displeasure every where; then do as I have done— E'en tune your pipe, and please yourself with John of Badenyon.