Datasets:
bensglaser
/
scannedlines

Dataset card Data Studio Files
xet
Community
1
line_txt
stringlengths
22
71
score
float64
0
11
NO Ill on Earth we timorous Mortals fly
3
With so much Dread, as abject Poverty:
2
OH despicable Name! We, thee to shun,
3
On every other Evil blindly run.
0
In tattered Rags, and starve their Bodies too,
0
And still are poor, for fear of being so.
1
For fear of thee, the cheating Trader vows,
1
His Wares are good, although his Conscience knows,
1
He has employed his utmost Skill and Care,
1
To hide their Faults, and make their Beauties glare.
0
The Sailor, terrified with Thoughts of thee,
0
Boldly attempts the Dangers of the Sea;
3
From East to West, over Rocks and Quicksands steers;
4
It's Poverty, and that alone, he fears;
1
In Hopes of Plunder, bravely meets the War;
0
To fly from Poverty, he runs on Death,
1
Strange Terror of Mankind! By thee misled,
4
Not Conscience, Quicksands, Rocks, or Death they dread!
1
And yet thou art no formidable Foe,
2
Except to little Souls, who think thee so:
0
Who through the Glass of Prejudice survey
1
Thy Face, a thousand frightful Forms display.
0
THUS Men, at Night, in foolish Fears grown old,
2
Who mind the Fairy Tales their Nurses told,
0
Start at a Goblin, which their Fancy made,
0
And, for a Spectre, often take a Shade.
1
Free from the Cares unwieldy Riches bring:
0
At Distance both alike deceive our View;
0
Nearer approached, they take another Hue.
2
The poor Man's Labour relishes his Meat;
2
His Morsel's pleasant, and his Rest is sweet:
1
Not so the Rich, who find their wearied Taste
0
For what they have more than they can enjoy,
1
Instead of satisfying, does but cloy.
0
BUT let us state the Case another way:
0
Were Poverty so hideous as they say,
2
It's nobler cheerfully to bear our Fate,
3
That Man deserves the Praise of human Kind,
0
Who bears ill Fortune with a Christian Mind:
2
How does his great heroic Soul aspire
0
Above that sordid Wealth the rest admire!
0
His faithful Eyes survey the GOD of Love
0
Not all the Snares a crafty Devil can lay,
2
Can intercept, or daunt him in his Way.
0
Not all the scornful Insults of the Proud,
2
Not Poverty, in all her Terrors dressed,
1
Can shake the solid Quiet of his Breast:
1
Unmoved he stands against the worst of Foes,
0
And mocks the Darts, which adverse Fortune throws,
1
Calm and composed, amid or Ease or Pain;
2
And finds Content, which others seek in vain.
0
Lashed by the foaming Surge on every Side,
0
Yet can't be shaken by the furious Tide.
3
Since Wealth can never make the Vicious blessed,
0
Nor Poverty subdue the virtuous Breast;
3
LORD, give me either; give me but CONTENT.
1
Go, first, sweet hope! to thine own Heaven succeed,
3
While here thy mother's heart must ever bleed,
0
Must ever mourn, till that auspicious day
0
This lonely hour my sorrows reach no ear,
1
My angel! thou from thy resplendent throne
2
O! take this moment, it is all thine own;
1
Spite of religious aid my wishes rise,
2
Ah! me! how weak to wish thee from the skies!
1
Sometime delusion strong I see thee smile,
1
And fancy wandering how remote from truth
3
Surveys thee blooming in the pride of youth;
0
Reason returns, and says, thou art no more!
2
Ah! sad remembrance, why exert thy power,
0
Why, why recall the past endearing hour,
0
And opening beauty every look disclosed?
2
Each happier mother, vain of her delight,
3
Still, still obtrudes her darling on my sight;
2
Then in the harmless smile, the feeble cry,
0
I hear the voice, I see thy languid eye:
0
O! still my child, if in thy perfect state,
1
Thou hast a knowledge of my suffering fate,
1
And bring me tidings from the realms of day;
1
Tell thy sad mother when the hour draws near,
3
That we shall meet, nor other parting fear;
0
And Heaven, still gracious to the mourning kind,
4
O! deign to send me peace, a will resigned;
1
Save me from murmurs at thy high decree,
0
I see a distant Fleet whose towering Masts
0
Bold was the Man who felled the leavy Trees
0
To seek for distant Isles, and Lands unknown;
0
Content with Sea, and careless of the Shore.
1
Has told the Customs of those Sons of Earth:
1
Yet envious think their own too mean a Share:
3
For foreign Toys they roam to every Shore,
0
And bring Diseases home unknown before.
0
And what they scorned before they now commend.
0
But things their Value raise by being new.
0
I late unseen saw from a distant Rock
2
Two vast Machines engage in Clouds of Smoke;
1
The Winds were high, and ruffled all the Main:
0
But when the Fight with louder Noise began,
0
The Gods afraid with drooping Wings retired;
0
The Sea grew calm, and all the Sky was fair.
1
Oft have I punished that ambitious Wight
0