OpenLLM-France/wikimedia huggingface dataset:
# The Anabasis of Alexander/Book II/Chapter IX

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CHAPTER IX.
Alexander Changes the Disposition of his Forces.
Meantime when Alexander perceived that nearly all the Persian cavalry had changed their ground and gone to his left towards the sea, and that on his side only the Peloponnesians and the rest of the Grecian cavalry were posted there, he sent the Thessalian cavalry thither with speed, ordering them not to ride along before the front of the whole array, lest they should be seen by the enemy to be shifting their ground, but to proceed by stealth in the rear of the phalanx. In front of the cavalry on the right, he posted the lancers under the command of Protomachus, and the Paeonians under that of Aristo; and of the infantry, the archers under the direction of Antiochus, and the Agrianians under that of ​Attalus. Some of the cavalry and archers also he drew up so as to form an angle with the centre towards the mountain which was in the rear; so on the right his phalanx had been drawn up separated into two wings, the one fronting Darius and the main body of Persians beyond the river, and the other facing those who had been posted at the mountain in their rear. On the left wing the infantry consisting of the Cretan archers and the Thracians under command of Sitalces were posted in front; and before these the cavalry towards the left. The Grecian mercenaries were drawn up as a reserve for all of them. When he perceived that the phalanx towards the right was too thin, and it seemed likely that the Persians would outflank him here considerably, he ordered two squadrons of the Companion cavalry, viz. the Anthemusian, of which Peroedas, son of Menestheus, was captain, and that which was called Leugaean, under the command of Pantordanus, son of Cleander, to proceed from the centre to the right without being seen. Having also marched the archers, part of the Agrianians and of the Grecian mercenaries up along his right in the front, he extended his phalanx beyond the wing of the Persians. But when those who had been posted upon the mountain did not descend, a charge was made by a few of the Agrianians and archers at Alexander's order, by which they were easily put to the rout from the foot of the mountain. As they fled to the summit he decided that he could make use of the men who had been drawn up to keep these in check, to fill up the ranks of his phalanx. ​He thought it quite sufficient to post 300 horsemen to watch the men on the mountain.
* ↑ See Donaldson's New Cratylus, sect. 178.
* ↑ Cf. Xenophon (Cyropaedia, vii. 1, 6).
* ↑ In describing the battle of Arbela, Arrian mentions eight distinct squadrons of Macedonian heavy cavalry, which was known by the name of the Companions. Among the squadrons several, if not all, were named after particular towns or districts of Macedonia, as here, Anthemus, and Leuge. We also find mention of the squadrons of Bottiaca, Amphipolis, and Apollonia. See also Arrian.i. 2; i. 12; iii. 11.
# The Book of American Negro Poetry/Ironic: LL. D.

IRONIC: LL.D.
There are no hollows any more
Between the mountains; the prairie floor
Is like a curtain with the drape
Of the winds' invisible shape;
And nowhere seen and nowhere heard
The sea's quiet as a sleeping bird.
Now we're traveling, what holds back
Arrival, in the very track
Where the urge put forth; so we stay
And move a thousand miles a day.
Time's a Fancy ringing bells
Whose meaning, charlatan history, tells!
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# The Book of American Negro Poetry/Index of Titles

INDEX OF TITLES
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# The Book of American Negro Poetry/Keep Me, Jesus, Keep Me

Waverley Turner Carmichael
KEEP ME, JESUS, KEEP ME
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# The Book of American Negro Poetry/If We Must Die

IF WE MUST DIE
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# The Book of American Negro Poetry/It Was Not Fate

IT WAS NOT FATE
It was not fate which overtook me,
Rather a wayward, wilful wind
That blew hot for awhile
And then, as the even shadows came, blew cold.
What pity it is that a man grown old in life's dreaming
Should stop, e'en for a moment, to look into a woman's eyes.
And I forgot!
Forgot that one's heart must be steeled against the east wind.
Life and death alike come out of the East:
Life as tender as young grass, Death as dreadful as the sight of clotted blood.
I shall go back into the darkness,
Not to dream but to seek the light again.
I shall go by paths, mayhap, On roads that wind around the foothills
Where the plains are bare and wild
And the passers-by come few and far between.
I want the night to be long, the moon blind,
The hills thick with moving memories,
And my heart beating a breathless requiem
For all the dead days I have lived.
When the Dawn comes—Dawn, deathless, dreaming—
I shall will that my soul must be cleansed of hate,
I shall pray for strength to hold children close to my heart,
I shall desire to build houses where the poor will know shelter, comfort, beauty.
And then may I look into a woman's eyes
And find holiness, love and the peace which passeth understanding.
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# The Book of American Negro Poetry/Little Brown Baby

LITTLE BROWN BABY
Little brown baby wif spa'klin' eyes,
Come to yo' pappy an' set on his knee.
What you been doin', suh—makin' san' pies?
Look at dat bib—You's ez du'ty ez me.
Look at dat mouf—dat's merlasses, I bet;
Come hyeah, Maria, an' wipe off his ban's.
Bees gwine to ketch you an' eat you up yit,
Bein' so sticky an' sweet—goodness lan's!
Little brown baby wif spa'klin' eyes
Who's pappy's darlin' an' who's pappy's chile?
Who is it all de day nevah once tries
Fu' to be cross, er once loses dat smile?
Whah did you git dem teef? My, you's a scamp!
Whah did dat dimple come f 'om in yo' chin?
Pappy do' know you—I b'lieves you's a tramp;
Mammy, dis hyeah's some ol' straggler got in!
Let's th'ow him outen de do' in de san',
We do' want stragglers a-layin' 'roun' hyeah;
Let's gin him 'way to de big buggah-man;
I know he's hidin' erroun' hyeah right neah.
Buggah-man, buggah-man, come in de do',
Hyeah's a bad boy you kin have fu' to eat.
Mammy an' pappy do' want him no mo',
Swaller him down f'om his haid to his feet!
Dah, now, I t'ought dat you'd hug me up close.
Go back, ol' buggah, you sha'n't have dis boy.
He ain't no tramp, ner no straggler, of co'se;
He's pappy's pa'dner an' playmate an' joy.
Come to you' pallet now—go to you' res';
Wisht you could allus know ease an' cleah skies;
Wisht you could stay jes' a chile on my breas'—
Little brown baby wif spa'klin' eyes!
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# The Book of American Negro Poetry/In the Matter of Two Men

IN THE MATTER OF TWO MEN
One does such work as one will not,
And well each knows the right;
Though the white storm howls, or the sun is hot,
The black must serve the white.
And it's, oh, for the white man's softening flesh,
While the black man's muscles grow!
Well I know which grows the mightier,
I know ; full well I know.
The white man seeks the soft, fat place,
And he moves and he works by rule.
Ingenious grows the humbler race
In Oppression's prodding school.
And it's, oh, for a white man gone to seed,
While the Negro struggles so! And I know which race develops most,
I know; yes, well I know.
The white man rides in a palace car,
And the Negro rides "Jim Crow." To damn the other with bolt and bar,
One creepeth so low; so low!
And it's, oh, for a master's nose in the mire.
While the humbled hearts o'erflow!
Well I know whose soul grows big at this,
And whose grows small; I know!
The white man leases out his land,
And the Negro tills the same.
One works; one loafs and takes command;
But I know who wins the game!
And it's, oh, for the white man's shrinking soil,
As the black's rich acres grow!
Well I know how the signs point out at last,
I know; ah, well I know!
The white man votes for his color's sake,
While the black, for his is barred;
(Though "ignorance" is the charge they make),
But the black man studies hard.
And it's, oh, for the white man's sad neglect,
For the power of his light let go!
So, I know which man must win at last,
I know! Ah, Friend, I know!
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# The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn (1884)

* related portals: Children's literature.
* sister projects: Wikipedia article, quotes, Wikidata item.
This first edition was published in 1884
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HUCKLEBERRY FINN
THE ADVENTURES
OF
HUCKLEBERRY FINN
(TOM SAWYER'S COMRADE)
Scene: The Mississippi Valley. Time: Forty to Fifty Years Ago.
BY
MARK TWAIN
(SAMUEL L. CLEMENS)
WITH 174 ILLUSTRATIONS
London CHATTO & WINDUS, PICCADILLY 1884
[All rights reserved]
LONDON: PRINTED BY
SPOTTISWOODE AND CO., NEW-STREET SQUARE
AND PARLIAMENT STREET
NOTICE.
Persons attempting to find a motive in this narrative will be prosecuted; persons attempting to find a moral in it will be banished; persons attempting to find a plot in it will be shot.
BY ORDER OF THE AUTHOR
per G. G., CHIEF OF ORDNANCE.
EXPLANATORY.
In this book a number of dialects are used, to wit: the Missouri negro dialect; the extremest form of the backwoods South-Western dialect; the ordinary "Pike-County" dialect; and four modified varieties of this last. The shadings have not been done in a hap-hazard fashion, or by guess-work; but pains-takingly, and with the trustworthy guidance and support of personal familiarity with these several forms of speech.
I make this explanation for the reason that without it many readers would suppose that all these characters were trying to talk alike and not succeeding.
THE AUTHOR.
CONTENTS.
CHAPTER I.
page
CHAPTER II.
CHAPTER III.
CHAPTER IV.
CHAPTER V.
CHAPTER VI.
CHAPTER VII.
CHAPTER VIII.
CHAPTER IX.
CHAPTER X.
CHAPTER XI.
CHAPTER XII.
CHAPTER XIII.
CHAPTER XIV.
CHAPTER XV.
CHAPTER XVI.
CHAPTER XVII.
CHAPTER XVIII.
CHAPTER XIX.
CHAPTER XX.
CHAPTER XXI.
CHAPTER XXII.
CHAPTER XXIII.
CHAPTER XXIV.
CHAPTER XXV.
CHAPTER XXVI.
CHAPTER XXVII.
CHAPTER XXVIII.
CHAPTER XXIX.
CHAPTER XXX.
CHAPTER XXXI.
CHAPTER XXXII.
CHAPTER XXXIII.
CHAPTER XXXIV.
CHAPTER XXXV.
CHAPTER XXXVI.
CHAPTER XXXVII.
CHAPTER XXXVIII.
CHAPTER XXXIX.
CHAPTER XL.
CHAPTER XLI.
CHAPTER XLII.
CHAPTER THE LAST.
ILLUSTRATIONS.
page
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 Book of Scottish Song/The Breist-knots

The Breist-knots.
[This is an abridged version of a long song which appears in the third volume of Johnson's Museum, in the broad Buchan dialect, by an anonymous correspondent. Breist-knots formed at one time an important ornament of female attire. Mr. Sinclair, the well-known vocalist, was instrumental in bringing the present version of the song into public repute.]
Hey the bonnie, how the bonnie, Hey the bonnie breist-knots! Tight and bonnie were they a', When they got on their breist-knots.
There was a bridal in this town, And till't the lasses a' were boun', Wi' mankie facings on their gowns, And some o' them had breist-knots.
At nine o'clock the lads convene, Some clad in blue, some clad in green, Wi' glancin' buckles in their shoon, And flowers upon their waistcoats.
Forth cam' the wives a' wi' a phrase, And wished the lassie happy days; And meikle thocht they o' her claes, And 'specially the briest-knots.
# The Book of Scottish Song/The Bumper

The Bumper.
[John Donald Carrick.]
Some rail against drinking, and say 'tis a sin To tipple the juice of the vine; But as 'tis allow'd that we all have our faults, I wish no other fault may be mine. But mark me, good fellows, I don't mean to say, That always to tipple is right; But 'tis wisdom to drown the dull cares of th' day, In a bowl with old cronies at night.
See yon husbandman labours with care on the plain, Yet his face is lit up with a smile, For the whisp'rings of hope tell again and again, That harvest rewards all his toil. Just so 'tis with us, though we labour with pain, Yet we hear with unmingled delight, The whisp'rings of hope tell again and again, Of a harvest of pleasure at night. ​How soothing it is, when we bumper it up, To a friend on a far distant shore, Or how sweetly it tastes, when we flavour the cup, With the name of the maid we adore! Then here's to the maid, then, and here's to the friend, May they always prove true to their plight, May their days glide as smooth and as merrily round, As the bumpers we pledge them to-night.
# The Book of Scottish Song/The Campsie Lassie

The Campsie Lassie.
[Steele.—Tune, "Miss Forbes's Farewell."]
I'll ne'er forget yon bonnie glen, 'Mang Campsie fells sae vernal green, For there I met the sweetest lass Yon towering hills had ever seen. The smile of love sat on her lips, And twinkled in her sparkling e'e, And while I fondly gazed on her, I wish'd she had been born for me.
My thoughts are wandering 'mang yon braes, And aye the lass I think I see, Wha trippet o'er yon craggy rocks, Ae joyful summer day wi' me. There's nane can tell what's yet to come, But round my heart I will entwine The hope that time will bring the day, When I can ca' yon lassie mine.
# The Book of Scottish Song/The Bush aboon Traquair

The Bush aboon Traquair.
[This was first published in the Tea-Table Miscellany, 1724. The author is Robert Crawford of Drumsoy, not, as is generally stated, William Crawford of Auchinames. The air is very old. "The Bush aboon Traquair," says Mr. Robert Chambers, a native of the district, "was a small grove of birches that formerly adorned the west bank of the Quair water, in Peebles-shire, about a mile from Traquair house, the seat of the Earl of Traquair. But only a few spectral-looking remains now denote the spot so long celebrated in the popular poetry of Scotland. Leafless even in summer, and scarcely to be observed upon the bleak hill-side, they form a truly melancholy memorial of what must once have been an object of great pastoral beauty, as well as the scene of many such fond attachments as that delineated in the following verses."]
Hear me, ye nymphs, and ev'ry swain, I'll tell how Peggy grieves me; Though thus I languish and complain, Alas! she ne'er believes me. My vows and sighs, like silent air, Unheeded, never move her; The bonnie bush aboon Traquair, 'Twas there I first did love her.
That day she smil'd, and made me glad, No maid seem'd ever kinder; I thought myself the luckiest lad, So sweetly there to find her. I tried to soothe my am'rous flame, In words that I thought tender: If more there pass'd, I'm not to blame; I meant not to offend her.
Yet now she scornful flies the plain, The fields we then frequented; If e'er we meet, she shows disdain, She looks as ne'er acquainted. The bonnie bush bloom'd fair in May; Its sweets I'll aye remember; But now her frowns make it decay; It fades as in December.
Ye rural pow'rs who hear my strains, Why thus should Peggy grieve me? Oh! make her partner in my pains; Then let her smiles relieve me. If not, my love will turn despair; My passion no more tender; I'll leave the bush aboon Traquair; To lonely wilds I'll wander.
# The Book of Scottish Song/The Brier Bush

The Brier Bush.
[We give here two versions of this popular song—the first, that which appears in Johnson's Museum, and which was altered by Burns from some old strain—the second, that which is generally sung in our theatres.]
There grows a bonnie brier bush in our kail-yard, There grows a bonnie brier bush in our kail-yard; And below the bonnie brier bush there's a lassie and a lad. And they're busy, busy courting in our kail-yard.
We'll court nae mair below the buss in our kail-yard, We'll court nae mair below the buss in our kail-yard; We'll awa' to Athole's green, and there we'll no be seen, Whare the trees and the branches will be our safe guard.
Will ye go to the dancin' in Carlyle's ha', Will ye go to the dancin' in Carlyle's ha; There Sandy and Nancy I'm sure will ding them a'? I winna gang to the dancin' in Carlyle's-ha'.
What will I do for a lad, when Sandy gangs awa'? What will I do for a lad, when Sandy gangs awa'? I will awa' to Edinburgh and win a pennie fee, And see an onie bonnie lad will fancy me.
He's comin' frae the North that's to fancy me, He's comin' frae the North that's to fancy me; A feather in his bonnet and a ribbon at his knee, He's a bonnie, bonnie laddie an yon be he.
[ANOTHER VERSION.]
"There grows a bonnie brier bush in our kail-yard, And white are the blossoms o't in our kail-yard: Like wee bit white cockauds for our loyal Hieland lads; And the lasses lo'e the bonnie bush in our kail-yard."
"But were they a' true that were far awa'? Oh! were they a' true that were far awa'? They drew up wi' glaiket Englishers at Carlisle ha', And forgot auld frien's when far awa'."
"Ye'll come nae mair, Jamie, where aft you've been; Ye'll come nae mair, Jamie, to Athole's Green; Ye lo'ed ower weel the dancin' at Carlisle ha'. And forgot the Hieland hills that were far awa'."
"He's comin' frae the North that's to fancy me, He's comin' frae the North that's to fancy me; A feather in his bonnet, a ribbon at his knee; He's a bonnie Hieland laddie, and you be na he."
# The Book of Scottish Song/The Campbell's Pibroch

The Campbell’s Pibroch.
[The first stanza by Burns, the second and third by an Amateur. The first stanza was originally adapted to the air entitled "Charles Gordon's Welcome Home."]
Out over the Forth I look'd to the north, But what is the north or its Hielands to me? The south nor the east bring nae ease to my breast, The wild rocky mountains, or dark rolling sea. But I look to the west, when I gae to my rest, That happy my dreams and my slumbers may be, For far in the west lives the lad I lo'e best, The laddie that's dear to my bairnie and me.
His father he frown'd on the love of his boyhood, And oh! his proud mother look'd cold upon me; But he follow'd me aye to my hame in the shealing, And the hills of Breadalbane rang wild wi' our glee. A' the lang sunoimer day, 'mid the heather and bracken, I joy'd in the light o' his bonnie blue e'e; I little then thought that the wide western ocean Would be rolling the day 'tween my laddie and me.
When we plighted our faith by the cairn on the mountain, The deer and the roe stood bride-maidens to me; And my bride's tyring glass was the clear crystal fountain, What then was the warld to my laddie and me? So I look to the west, when I gae to my rest, That happy my dreams and my slumbers may be; For far in the west is the lad I lo'e best, He's seeking a hame for my bairnie and me.
# The Book of Scottish Song/The Bridal Day

The Bridal Day.
[Words by W. Paul. Composed by J. P. Clarke.]
O, I maun braid my yellow hair, An' I maun busk me braw, An' I maun to the greenwood gang Whatever may befa'; An' I maun say the word at e'en, That brings me weel or wae, For Jamie press'd me sair yestreen, To set the bridal day.
O little does my father think That he maun ware his gear, And little does my minnie think, The trysting hour is near; But yonder blinks the e'ening star O'er Roslyn castle gray, An' I maun to the greenwood gang, To set the bridal day.
# The Book of Scottish Song/The Bridal o't

The Bridal o't.
[Written by Alexander Ross, author of "The Fortunate Shepherdess," a poem published in 1768, and of several Scottish songs, among others, of the well-known one called "The Rock and the wee pickle tow," or "The Spinning o't." Ross was born in Aberdeenshire about the year 1700, and was parish schoolmaster of Lochlee in Forfarshire, for fifty years. He died in 1783. The tune to the present song is a Highland strathspey called in some collections "Acharnac's Reel," and in others, "Lucy Campbell's Delight."]
They say that Jockey'll speed weel o't, They say that Jockey'll speed weel o't, For he grows brawer ilka day; I hope we'll ha'e a bridal o't: For yesternight, nae farther gane, The back-house at the side-wa' o't, He there wi' Meg was mirdin' seen; I hope we'll ha'e a bridal o't.
An we had but a bridal o't, An we had but a bridal o't, We'd leave the rest unto good luck, Although there might betide ill o't. For bridal days are merry times, And young folk like the coming o't, And scribblers they bang up their rhymes, And pipers play the bumming o't.
The lasses like a bridal o't, The lasses like a bridal o't; Their braws maun be in rank and file, Although that they should guide ill o't. The boddom o' the kist is then Turn'd up into the inmost o't; The end that held the keeks sae clean, Is now become the teemest o't.
The bangster at the threshing o't, The bangster at the threshing o't, Afore it comes is fidgin fain, And ilka day's a clashing o't: He'll sell his jerkin for a groat, His linder for another o't, And ere he want to clear his shot, His sark'll pay the tother o't.
The pipers and the fiddlers o't, The pipers and the fiddlers o't, Can smell a bridal unco far, And like to be the middlers o't: Fan thick and three-fauld they convene Ilk ane envies the tother o't, And wishes nane but him alaue May ever see another o't.
Fan they ha'e done wi' eating o't, Fan they ha'e done wi' eating o't, For dancing they gae to the green, And aiblins to the beatin o't: He dances best that dances fast, And loups at ilka reesing o't, And claps his hands frae hough to hough, And furls about the feezings o't.
# The Book of Scottish Song/The Broomy Brae

The Broomy Brae.
[By John Jack, Rutherglen.]
How dear to me yon broomy knowe, By a' the places roun', The birdies there ha'e blyther notes, The burn a sweeter soun'; The hawthorn bush blooms richer far, The flowers appear mair gay, And nature wears a brighter hue, On yonder broomy brae.
There first I tauld my artless love, And met a kind return; There first I preed my lassie's mou' Beside the wimplin' burn: And aft to that sequester'd spot, At hour o' gloamin' grey, I gang to meet my ain dear lass, On yonder broomy brae.
# The Book of Scottish Song/The Campbells are coming

The Campbells are coming.
[The following words are given in Johnson's museum to the well-known tune of "The Campbells are coming." From the mention of Lochleven, they are absurdly supposed by some to belong to the days of Queen Mary's imprisonment there. They were with much greater probability composed when "the great Argyle and a' his men" marched, northward to suppress the insurrection of 1715.]
The Campbells are coming, O-ho, O-ho! The Campbells are coming, O-ho! The Campbells are coming to bonnie Lochleven! The Campbells are coming, O-ho, O-ho!
Upon the Lomonds I lay, I lay; Upon the Lomonds I lay; I lookit doun to bonnie Lochleven, And saw three perches play. The Campbells are coming, &c.
Great Argyle he goes before He makes the cannons and guns to roar; With sound of trumpet, pipe, and drum; The Campbells are coming, O-ho, O-ho!
The Campbells they are a' in arms, Their loyal faith and truth to show, With banners rattling in the wind; The Campbells are coming, O-ho, O-ho!
# The Army and Navy Hymnal/Hymns/Saviour, Breathe An Evening Blessing

* Saviour, breathe an evening blessing, Ere repose our spirits seal; Sin and want we come confessing; Thou canst save, and thou alone.
* Tho' destruction walk a round us, Tho' the arrows past us fly, Angel guards from thee surround us, We are safe if thou art nigh.
* Tho' the night be dark and dreary, Darkness cannot hide from thee; Thou art he who, never Weary, Watchest where thy people be.
* Should swift death this night o'er-take us, And our couch become our tomb, May the morn in heaven awake us, Clad in bright and deathless bloom. A-men
# The Army and Navy Hymnal/Hymns/Rock of Ages, Cleft for Me

* Rock of Ages, cleft for me, Let me hide myself in thee; Let the water and the blood, From thy riven side which flowed, Be of sin the double cure, Cleanse me from its guilt and power.
* Could my zeal no respite know, Could my tears forever flow, All for sin could not atone, Thou must save, and thou alone; Nothing in my hand I bring, Simply to thy cross I cling.
* While I draw this fleeting breath, When my eyelids close in death, When I soar to worlds un-known See thee on thy judgment throne,— Rock of Ages, cleft for me, Let me hide myself in thee. Amen.