OpenLLM-France/wikimedia huggingface dataset:
# The Works of the Rev. Jonathan Swift/Volume 17/A Tale of Chaucer

This work was probably written by Alexander Pope. See The Works of Alexander Pope (1995). Wordsworth Edition Ltd. p. 3.
A TALE OF CHAUCER.
LATELY FOUND IN AN OLD MANUSCRIPT.
WOMEN, though nat sans leacherie, Ne swinken but with secrecie: This in our tale is plain y-fond, Of clerk that wonneth in Irelond; Which to the fennes hath him betake To filch the gray ducke fro the lake. Right then there passen by the way His aunt, and eke her daughters tway: Ducke in his trowzes hath he hent, Not to be spied of ladies gent. "But ho! our nephew (crieth one) "Ho: (quoth another) couzen John;" And stoppen, and lough, and callen out, — This sely clerk full low doth lout. They asken that and talken this, "Lo here is coz, and here is miss." But, as he gloz'd with speeches soote. The ducke sore tickleth his erse roote: Forepiece and buttons all to-brest, Forth thrust a white neck and red crest. "Te-he," cried ladies; clerke nought spake; Miss star'd; and gray ducke crieth "quaake." "O moder, moder (quoth the daughter) Be thilke same thing maids longen a'ter? Bette is to pyne on coals and chalke, Then trust on mon, whose yerde can talke."
# The Works of the Rev. Jonathan Swift/Volume 17/A New Song of New Similes

While this work is included within The Works of the Rev. Jonathan Swift and is not attributed to anyone other than Jonathan Swift, it may have been written by another member of the Scriblerus Club. The club, which was founded in 1714, included Jonathan Swift, Alexander Pope, John Gay, John Arbuthnot, Henry St John, and Thomas Parnell.
A NEW SONG OF NEW SIMILIES.
MY passion is as mustard strong; I sit all sober sad, Drunk as a piper all day long, Or like a March hare mad.
Round as a hoop the bumpers flow; I drink, yet can't forget her; For, though as drunk as David's sow, I love her still the better.
Pert as a pearmonger I'd be, If Molly were but kind; Cool as a cucumber could see The rest of womankind.
Like a stuck pig I gaping stare, And eye her o'er and o'er; Lean as a rake with sighs and care, Sleek as a mouse before.
Plump as a partridge was I known, And soft as silk my skin; My cheeks as fat as butter grown; But as a groat now thin!
​I, melancholy as a cat, Am kept awake to peep; But she, insensible of that, Sound as a top can sleep.
Hard is her heart as flint or stone; She laughs to see me pale; And merry as a grig is grown, And brisk as bottled ale.
The God of Love, at her approach, Is busy as a bee! Hearts sound as any bell or roach Are smit, and sigh like me.
Ah me! as thick as hops or hail, The fine men crowd about her: But soon as dead as a door-nail Shall I be, if without her.
Straight as my leg her shape appears; O were we join'd together! My heart would be scotfree from cares, And lighter than a feather.
As fine as fivepence is her mien; No drum was ever tighter; Her glance is as the razor keen, And not the sun is brighter.
As soft as pap her kisses are: Methinks I taste them yet; Brown as a berry is her hair, Her eyes as black as jet.
As smooth as glass, as white as curds, Her pretty hand invites; ​Sharp as a needle are her words; Her wit like pepper bites.
Brisk as a body-louse she trips, Clean as a penny drest: Sweet as a rose her breath and lips, Round as the globe her breast.
Full as an egg was I with glee, And happy as a king: Good Lord! how all men envied me! She lov'd like any thing.
But, false as Hell, she, like the wind, Chang'd as her sex must do; Though seeming as the turtle kind, And like the Gospel true.
If I and Molly could agree, Let who would take Peru! Great as an emp'ror should I be, And richer than a Jew.
Till you grow tender as a chick, I'm dull as any post: Let us like burs together stick, And warm as any toast.
You'll know me truer than a die, And wish me better sped, Flat as a flounder when I lie, And as a herring dead.
Sure as a gun she'll drop a tear, And sigh, perhaps, and wish, When I am rotten as a pear, And mute as any fish.
# The Whole Prophecies of Scotland, England, Ireland, France & Denmark/Chapter 24

A Prophecy of Paul Greener's, relating to the downfal of the Jeſuits.
THERE shall ariſe, ſays he, a new fortunate Zisca, who shall break the heads of the Jeſuits in Germany, drive them out of Aſtria, and all the tracts of Pannonia, even as far as Conſtantinople itſelf; therefore, 'tis meet and requiſite that a precious diadem be ſet upon the head of this fortunate Tutoriick Ziſca, who is the head of the ſtock, a great and valiant warrior, that comes of the ſtock of Mars the ſixth; he shall rule victoriouſly, and do many famous things, happily finishing them, with his other tribunes and captains: After theſe revolutions, great and wonderful things shall enſue, and many myſteries brought to light.
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# The Whole Prophecies of Scotland, England, Ireland, France & Denmark/Chapter 25

A ſhort Prediction, or obſervation of Mr. Lillie's found after his deceaſe, with ſomewhat relating to London.
THE condunation, ſays he, of ſo many planets in the ſign Leo, in the year 1682, gives very rational grounds, to predict the appearance of another Comet, very ſtrange apperitions in the air, or ſome prodigious meteors either preceding that conjunction, or ſubſeqnent within a short time after; and we alſo are fearful, that ſome more than ordinary fire or fires may afflict or do conſiderable damage to many cities of Europe: God keep this judgement from the city of London, and bleſs her inhabitants with much health and proſperity, and deliver her from another plague or peſtilential diſtemper, &c.
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# The Whole Prophecies of Scotland, England, Ireland, France & Denmark/Chapter 30

THIS great divine, in a time when it was leaſt expected the Papiſts ſhould gain any power or advantage, declared, that he confidently expected great calamities, and that a ſad perſecution would fall upon the Proteſtant churches of Europe ; therefore, ſaid he to his friend that made further enquiry: Fool not yourſelf with hopes of its being over, I tell you that all you have yet ſeen, is but the beginning of ſorrows, to what is yet to come upon the Proteſtant Churches of Chriſt, who will ere long fall under a ſharper perſecution than ever has yet been upon them; and therefore, ſays he, look you be not found in the outward court, but a worſhipper in the temple before the altar, for Chriſt meaſures all thoſe that profeſs his name, and call themſelves his people, and the outward ​worſhippers he will leave out to be trodden down of the Gentiles. The outward court, ſays he, Is the formal Chriſtian, whoſe religion lies in performing the out-ſide duties of Chriſtianity, without having an inward life, and power of faith and love, uniting them to Chriſt; and theſe God will leave to be trodden down and ſwept away by the Gentiles, but the worſhippers within the Temple and before the Altar, are thoſe that indeed worſhip God in Spirit and Truth, whoſe souls are made his Temples, and he is honoured and adored in the moſt inward thoughts of their hearts. They ſacrifice their luſts and vile affections, yea, even their own wills unto him: and theſe God will hide in the bottom of his hand, and even under the ſhaddow of his wings; and this ſhall be one great difference between this laſt and all other preceeding perſecutions; for in the former, the moſt eminent and ſpiritual Miniſters and Chriſtians did generally ſuffer moſt, and were moſt violently fallen upon; but in this laſt perſecution theſe ſhould be preſerved of God as a seed to partake of that glory, which ſhall immediately follow and come upon the Church as ſoon as ever this form ſhall be over; for as it ſhall be ſharpelt, ſo it ſhall be ſhorteſt. This reverend divine being aſked by whom this ſhould be brought to paſs, anſwered, by the Papiſts, for they were in his opinion the Gentiles ſpoken of in the 11th of the Revelations, ſeeing they followed the Gentiles manner of worſhip in adoring saints and angels, worſhipping images, &c. And indeed the late ſharp and bloody perſecution of the Proteſtants in France, Savoy, and at preſent in Ireland, may be part of what this pious man hinted at; but if God for our ſins ſhould ſuffer us to fall into further affliction, we are sure the joy of the wicked ſhall be but for a moment, and that in due time Rome ſhall finally fall, And the kings of the earth ſhall hate the whore, and snake her desolate, and naked, and burn her with fire. Rev. xvii. 16.
Rome tott'ring long, laden with errors ſtore, At laſt ſhall fall and heed the world no more.
GLASGOW.
Printed by J. and M. Roberston, (No. 18.) Saltmarket,
1806.
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# The Whole Prophecies of Scotland, England, Ireland, France & Denmark/Chapter 28

A Prophecy relating to the preſent times, and found written above a hundred years ſince in the Cathedral Church of Edinburgh, ſaid to be predicted by one Mother Greg.
IF the Orange ſhall engrafted be Twice on the Royal Oak that ſtately, tree, Though Cydar, Olive, Vine, and Fir oppoſe, And all the Shrubs that in the world there grows: If Orange with the Roſe and Lilly join, The Irish Harp ſhall loſe its grand deſign.
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# The Whole Prophecies of Scotland, England, Ireland, France & Denmark/Chapter 3

The Prophecie of Merling.
IT is to fall when they it find, That fell on face is fain to flee; That commedore of ſtordlings striendie, Waving through the work of wind: The bear his muſſel ſhall upbind, And never after bound ſhall be, Away the other ſhall wave with wind, And as they come ſo ſhall they flee. Syce ſhall up, and ſink ſhall under; The dead ſhall riſe and work great wonder; And joy ſhall riſe to man and wife; The sorrowful shall ſtill of ſtrife; All men shall joy of his reſurrection, And in ſpecial men of religion, The morter is ready, the peſtle alſo, The ſauce ſhall be bitter, and that to his foe; And the devils alſo ſhall helpen to. Then the banks of Beil ſhall bloom all about; Then hie the Hurcheon to Hales, and cloſe thee therein, Thou ſhalt be werped with a wind, and plucked ilk pen, Shall never down on thy ſkin nor birs be thee left. The thunder ſhall work thy hold to the cold earth, Shall never ſtone upon ſtone nor ground be thee left, And ſo that wretched work is deſtroyed for ever. There ſhall a galyart goat with a golden horn, A pilledow with a toad, ſuch a prime hold, With their peers in place by a ſtream ſide; To ſtrive with the ſtream, but they no ſtrength have, ​For their moving they meet in the mid-way, All the grooms ſhall grunch by the way-ſide, And many bairn ſhall have his byth on the back-ſide, And that marvell ſhall fall by a fyrth-ſide, Where the leader of the land ſhall his life loſe; But that bargain ſhall brew in a bare brough, That ſhall banish from bliſs many bright helm, When it is bireved of his back, and his brief known, Of dum organs dight, then may thou well deem. Of all the weil and the wealth before them was wrought With hunger and hireſhip on every hill: Yet this wicked world ſhall laſt but a while; While a chiftain unchoſen chooſe forth himſelf, And ride over the region, and for Roy holden: Then his ſcutifiers ſhall ſkail all the fair ſouth, From Dumbarton to Dover and deal all the lands: He ſhall be kid conqueror, for he is kind Lord, Of all Britain that bounds to the broad sea. The conqueſſing ſhall be keeped, and never conqueſt after. By the coſt ye ſhall know when the knight comes, He has a mark in the middle, where no man may know; When he is in the eaſt when the ſun riſeth, He has a ſign ſhall ſhew on the ſouth-ſide. Signum venenaſi ſanguinus de ventre matris ſue, All Wales I wiſh ſhall wend with that Roy, For to work his will, where he think would, Guaine Gaſkonigne, and Britain the blyth, Shall buſk to his bidding on their beſt wise: The whole men will help in his moſt height, Then ſhall he turn into tuſkane but treaty or true, And busk him over the mountains on midwinter even, And then go to Rome, and rug down the walls, And over all the region Roy ſhall be holden. Oft this book have I ſeen, and better thereafter, Of marvellous Merling, but is waſted away, With a wicked woman woe might ſhe be.
# The Whole Prophecies of Scotland, England, Ireland, France & Denmark/Chapter 26

A Predicton of Dooms-day, upon theſe words, viz. Jeſus Chriſt the Son of God, the Saviour.
IN ſign of Dooms-day the whole world shall ſweat, Ever to reign a King in heaverly ſeat; Shall come to judge all flesh, the faithful and Unfaithful too before his God shall ſtand. Corporeal he shall ſit, and thence extend, His doom in ſouls: the earth shall quite lie waſte, Ruin'd, o'ergrown with thorns, and men shall caſt Idols away, and treaſure-ſearching fire Shall burn the ground and rage with fatal ire, Through ſeas and ſkies, and break hell's black fate, So shall free light ſalute the bleſſed ſtate Of Saints; the guilty in laſting flames shall burn, No act ſo bad but thence to light shall turn; Nor breaſt ſo cloſed but God shall open wide, Each, where shall crys be heard, and noiſe beſide, Of gnashing teeth. The ſun shall from the ſky Fly forth, and ſtars no more move orderly; Great heaven shall be diſſolv'd, the moon depriv'd Of all her light, places at heigt arriv'd Depreſt, and valleys mounted to their ſeat; There shall be nought to mortals high or great; Hills ſhall be levell’d with the plains, the ſea Endure no burthen, and the earth as they Shall periſh, cleft with lightning, every ſpring, And rivers burn, the fatal trump ſhall bring; Unto the world from heaven a dismal blaſt, Including plagues to come for ill deeds paſt: Old Chaos through the ſcatter'd maſs appears, Unto this bar all kings come priſoners, Raptur'd with joy, or overwhelm'd with fears.
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# The Whole Prophecies of Scotland, England, Ireland, France & Denmark/Chapter 27

A ſecond Prophecy of Paul Greener's, preſaging the reſtoring of divers Princes of the Empire, &c. and the downfal of the Papal Authority.
THE Lord (ſaith he) doth raiſe up an elector which ſhall throw down, and root of the Roman Antichriſt in his dominions, with her members and abettors, in this valiant precipitated tumult, raging like a ſea in a tempeſt: Many princes ſhall be reſtored to their rights, former eſtates and liberties: And a noble ſtout Bohemian Lord doth recover his juriſdiction by the meeting of ar- ​mies and their diſſipation, and the heirs of ſuch as are expelled ſhall contend and labour; that by the bounty of the emperor of Germany, they may be ſet again in the place of their anceſtors.
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# The Whole Prophecies of Scotland, England, Ireland, France & Denmark/Chapter 29

An ancient Prophecy of Regiomonetanus.
FROM Chriſt's birth count thouſand years complete, And add five hundred more with eighty-eight; That year approaching, all men will affright With woful terrors which on them will light, If the whole world do not to ruin run, Or into nothing land and ſeas be done, At leaſt some Realms ſhall topſie turvy turn, And men on all hands lamentably mourn.
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# The Works of the Rev. Jonathan Swift/Volume 2/A Tale of a Tub/Treatises written by the same Author, which will be speedily published

A Character of the present set of Wits in this island.
A panegyrical essay upon the number Three.
A dissertation upon the principal productions of Grub-street.
Lectures upon a dissection of Human Nature.
A panegyrick upon the World.
An analytical discourse upon Zeal, histori-theo-physi-logically considered.
A general history of Ears.
A modest defence of the proceedings of the Rabble in all ages.
A description of the kingdom of Absurdities.
A voyage into England, by a person of quality in terra australis incognita, translated from the original.
A critical essay upon the art of Canting, philosophically, physically, and musically considered.
# The Works of the Rev. Jonathan Swift/Volume 2/Postscript

POSTSCRIPT.
SINCE the writing of this, which was about a year ago, a prostitute bookseller has published a foolish paper, under the name of Notes on the Tale of a Tub, with some account of the author; and with an insolence, which I suppose is punishable by law, has presumed to assign certain names. It will be enough for the author to assure the world, that the writer of that paper is utterly wrong in all his conjectures upon that affair. The author farther asserts, that the whole work is entirely of one hand, which every reader of judgment will easily discover; the gentleman, who gave the copy to the bookseller, being a friend of the author, and using no other liberties, beside that of expunging certain passages, where now the chasms appear under the name of desiderata. But, if any person will prove his claim to three lines in the whole book, let him step forth and tell his name and titles; upon which, the bookseller shall have orders to prefix them to the next edition, and the claimant shall from henceforward be acknowledged the undisputed author.
# The Tracks We Tread

THE TRACKS WE TREAD
The Tracks We Tread
BY
G. B. LANCASTER
Author of “Sons o’ Men” and “The Spur”
New York Doubleday, Page & Company 1907
Copyright, 1907, by Doubleday, Page & Company Published, September, 1907
All Rights Reserved Including that of Translation into Foreign Languages Including the Scandinavian
THE TRACKS WE TREAD
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GLOSSARY OF NEW ZEALAND TERMS
Biddy-bid—a burr.
Brumbies—wild horses.
Keas—meat-eating mountain parrot.
Koradi-stick—blossom stalk of flax.
Kowhai—timber tree
Lawyer—trailing thorny vine. (“Wait-a-bit.”)
Makutu—a wizard’s curse.
Manuka—small scrubby tree. (Scrub.)
Matai—black pine.
Matakuri—a thorny bush.
Mic-a-mic—scrub.
Moko-moko—bell-bird.
Mopok—native owl.
Musterer’s hut—shepherd’s out-station.
Mutton-bird—species of petrel.
Nigger-head swamp—loose tussock growing on stems in swamp.
Pakeha—white man.
Papa—soft blue slaty rock.
Raupo—bull-rush.
Rimu—Timber tree. (Red pine.)
Tawhina—resinous shrub.
Tiki—a charm carved by Maori in shape of a grotesque man.
Tohunga—Maori wizard.
Toi-toi—native pampas grass.
Totara—very large tree.
Tussock—rough bunch-grass, characteristic of New Zealand.
Tutu—poisonous plant.
Whanae—slender flowering tree.
Whare—hut.
Wild Irishman—thorny bush. (Matakuri.)
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 1944, so this work is in the public domain in countries and areas where the copyright term is the author's life plus 79 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 Works of J. W. von Goethe/Volume 9/Symbols

SYMBOLS.
Palm Sunday at the Vatican They celebrate with palms; With reverence bows each holy man, And chants the ancient psalms. Those very psalms are also sung With olive boughs in hand, While holly, mountain wilds among, In place of palms must stand; In fine, one seeks some twig that's green, And takes a willow rod, So that the pious man may e'en In small things praise his God. And if ye have observed it well, To gain what's fit ye're able, If ye in faith can but excel; Such are the myths of fable.
# The Works of J. W. von Goethe/Volume 9/Songs

SONGS.
Songs are like painted window-panes! In darkness wrapped the church remains, If from the market-place we view it; Thus sees the ignoramus through it. No wonder that he deems it tame,— And all his life 'twill be the same.
But let us now inside repair, And greet the holy chapel there! At once the whole seems clear and bright, Each ornament is bathed in light, And fraught with meaning to the sight. God's children! thus your fortune prize, Be edified, and feast your eyes!
# The Works of J. W. von Goethe/Volume 9/Sorrow Without Consolation

SORROW WITHOUT CONSOLATION.
Oh, wherefore shouldst thou try The tears of love to dry? Nay, let them flow! For didst thou only know, How barren and how dead Seems everything below, To those who have not tears enough to shed, Thou'dst rather bid them weep, and seek their comfort so.
# The Works of J. W. von Goethe/Volume 9/Spirit Greeting

SPIRIT GREETING.
Upon a tower antique and high Stood ghost of hero brave, Who, as the ship went sailing by, This "God-speed" to her gave.
"See! these my sinews stark were once, This heart beat fast and wild, Of knightly marrow full these bones, Brimful this goblet filled.
"Half of my life in storm was passed, Half wasted was in ease, Speed, human cargo, far and fast, On, on, before the breeze!"
# The Works of J. W. von Goethe/Volume 9/Tame Xenia

TAME XENIA.
[The Epigrams bearing the title of "Xenia" were written by Goethe and Schiller together, having been first occasioned by some violent attacks made on them by some insignificant writers. They are extremely numerous, but scarcely any of them could be translated into English. Those here given are merely presented as a specimen.]
God gave to mortals birth, In his own image, too; Then came himself to earth, A mortal kind and true.
Barbarians oft endeavour Gods for themselves to make; But they're more hideous ever Than dragon or than snake.
"What is science, rightly known?" 'Tis the strength of life alone. Life canst thou engender never, Life must be life's parent ever
It matters not, I ween, Where worms our friends consume, Beneath the turf so green, Or 'neath a marble tomb. Remember, ye who live, Though frowns the fleeting day, That to your friends ye give What never will decay.
What shall I teach thee, the very first thing?— Fain would I learn o'er my shadow to spring!
# The Works of J. W. von Goethe/Volume 9/The Artist's Morning Song

THE ARTIST'S MORNING SONG.
My dwelling is the Muses' home— What matters it how small? And here, within my heart, is set The holiest place of all.
When, wakened by the early sun, I rise from slumbers sound, ​I see the ever-living forms In radiance grouped around.
I pray, and songs of thanks and praise Are more than half my prayer, With simple notes of music, tuned To some harmonious air.
I bow before the altar then, And read, as well I may, From noble Homer's master-work, The lesson for the day.
He takes me to the furious fight, Where lion-warriors throng; Where god-descended heroes whirl In iron cars along.
And steeds go down before the cars; And round the cumbered wheel, Both friend and foe are rolling now, all blood from head to heel!
Then comes the champion of them all, Pelides' friend is he, And crashes through the dense array, Though thousands ten they be!
And ever smites that fiery sword Through helmet, shield, and mail, Until he falls by craft divine, Where might could not prevail.
Down from the glorious pile he rolls, Which he himself had made, And foemen trample on the limbs From which they shrank afraid.
​Then start I up, with arms in hand, What arms the painter bears; And soon along my kindling wall The fight at Troy appears.
On! on again! The wrath is here Of battle rolling red; Shield strikes on shield, and sword on helm, And dead men fall on dead!
I throng into the inner press. Where loudest rings the din; For there, around their hero's corpse, Fight on his furious kin!
A rescue! rescue! bear him hence Into the leaguer near; Pour balsam in his glorious wounds, And weep above his bier!
And when from that hot trance I pass, Great Love, I feel thy charm; There hangs my lady's picture near— A picture, yet so warm!
How fair she was, reclining there; What languish in her look! How thrilled her glance through all my frame, The very pencil shook.
Her eyes, her cheeks, her lovely lips, Were all the world to me; And in my breast a younger life Rose wild and wantonly.
Oh! turn again, and bide thee here, Nor fear such rude alarms; ​How could I think of battles more With thee within my arms!
But thou shalt lend thy perfect form To all I fashion best; I'll paint thee first, Madonna-wise, The infant on thy breast.
I'll paint thee as a startled nymph, Myself a following faun; And still pursue thy flying feet Across the woodland lawn.
With helm on head, like Mars, I'll lie By thee, the Queen of Love, And draw a net around us twain, And smile on heaven above:
And every god that comes shall pour His blessings on thy head, And envious eyes be far away From that dear marriage-bed!