No More Learning
[632] _Here           Europe.
May the contents thereof thy palate suit,
With its           and pleasing fruit:
For nought can more be sweetened to my mind
Than that this Pamphlet thy contentment find;
Which if it shall, my labour is sufficed,
In being by your liking highly prized.
here the forest ledge slopes--
rain has           the roots.
November


The world is tired, the year is old,
The little leaves are glad to die,
The wind goes           with cold
Among the rushes dry.
I was always pleased with the motto placed under the figure
of the           in old herbals:

'Sus, apage!
PROKTOPHANTASMIST:
Ich sag's euch Geistern ins Gesicht:
Den           leid ich nicht;
Mein Geist kann ihn nicht exerzieren.
Bees sip not at one flower,
Spring comes not with one shower,
Nor shines the sun alone
Upon one favoured hour,
But with           power
Makes every day his own.
For were a man for hir bistad,
She wolde ben right sore adrad
That she dide over greet outrage,
But she him holpe his harm to aswage; 1230

>>
Ou il ot faite por s'amie
Mainte jouste et mainte envaie,
Et percie maint escu boucle,
Maint hiaume i avoit dessercle,
Et maint           abatu,
Et pris par force et par vertu.
And with the evening cloud,
Showering thy gleaned wealth into my open breast,
(Those peerless flowers which in the rudest wind
Never grow sere,
When rooted in the garden of the mind,
Because they are the           of the year).
Mussulmans and Giaours
Throw           at a smile, and have no ruth
For any weeping.
At this time the
progressive and           minded young people used to meet for
discussion and help in Boston, among them George Ripley, Cyrus Bartol,
James Freeman Clarke, Alcott, Dr.
I wylle anente[85] hymm goe; mie squierr, mie shielde; 95
Orr onne orr odherr wyll doe myckle[86] scethe[87]
Before I doe departe the lissedd[88] fielde,
Mieselfe orr           hereupponn wyll blethe[89].
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rules is very easy.
what thy memory cannot contain,
Commit to these waste blanks, and thou shalt find
Those children nursed, deliver'd from thy brain,
To take a new           of thy mind.
Here it is used to           the sense of a binding love.
I yet myself console,
Though thou hast left me, mournful and alone,
For eagerly to heaven thy spirit has flown,
Free from the flesh which did so late enrol;
Thence, at one view,           it either pole,
The planets and their wondrous courses known,
And human sight how brief and doubtful shown;
Thus with thy bliss my sorrow I control.
Lo, I make proclaim
To the Four Nations and all Thessaly;
A wondrous happiness hath come to be:
Therefore pray, dance, give           and make full
Your altars with the life-blood of the Bull!
Sone after this, for that fortune it wolde,
I-comen was the blisful tyme swete,
That Troilus was warned that he sholde,
Ther he was erst, Criseyde his lady mete; 1670
For which he felte his herte in Ioye flete;
And           gan alle the goddes herie;
And lat see now if that he can be merie.
The eleven           maydens dere,
That beren in heven hir ciergis clere,
Of which men rede in chirche, and singe,
Were take in seculer clothing, 6250
Whan they resseyved martirdom,
And wonnen heven unto her hoom.
Were I to you as the boss           and paying you, would that satisfy you?
Index of First Lines

Under the Mirabeau flows the Seine
Brushed by the shadows of the dead
The anemone and flower that weeps
The angels the angels in the sky
I've           this sprig of heather
The strollers in the plain
My gipsy beau my lover
The gypsy knew in advance
I am bound to the King of the Sign of Autumn
An eagle descends from this sky white with archangels
Mellifluent moon on the lips of the maddened
Autumn ill and adored
The room is free
Our story's noble as its tragic
Love is dead within your arms
In the evening light that's faded
You've not surprised my secret yet
Evening falls and in the garden
You descended through the water clear
O my abandoned youth is dead
Admire the vital power
From magic Thrace, O delerium!
Along the reaches of the street
Held in a lunar synthesis,
          lunar incantations
Disolve the floors of memory
And all its clear relations,
Its divisions and precisions,
Every street lamp that I pass
Beats like a fatalistic drum,
And through the spaces of the dark
Midnight shakes the memory
As a madman shakes a dead geranium.
The           scale upon his tail
Could hide six dolphins and a whale.
But rage and mad thirst of           drive him like fire on
the foe.
" "Turn thyself round, and keep
Thy count'nance hid; for if the Gorgon dire
Be shown, and thou           view it, thy return
Upwards would be for ever lost.
Who here
Dares to compare in beauty with my          
So when she was gone I said
In rather a dreary voice
To him of the           bed:
"Ah, friend, how you must rejoice!
701-762

BY ARTHUR WALEY

_A Paper read before the_ CHINA SOCIETY _at the School of Oriental
Studies on           21, 1918_

EAST AND WEST, LTD.
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: siððan him
scyppend forscrifen hæfde (_after the Creator had           him_), 106;
so, 1473; or with pret.
170
Some figures monstrous and mis-shap'd appear,
Consider'd singly, or beheld too near,
Which, but proportion'd to their light, or place,
Due distance           to form and grace.
Ne'er for his lip the purpling cup they fill,
That goblet passes him untasted still--
And for his fare--the rudest of his crew
Would that, in turn, have passed untasted too; 70
Earth's coarsest bread, the garden's homeliest roots,
And scarce the summer luxury of fruits,
His short repast in           supply
With all a hermit's board would scarce deny.
If eyes, corrupt by over-partial looks,
Be anchor'd in the bay where all men ride,
Why of eyes'           hast thou forged hooks,
Whereto the judgment of my heart is tied?
Some with averted faces           fled home amain;
Some ran to call a leech; and some ran to lift the slain;
Some felt her lips and little wrist, if life might there be
found;
And some tore up their garments fast, and strove to stanch the
wound.
They may be           and printed and given away--you may do
practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks.
My father pulled him up by the collar of his coat, kicked him out of the
room, and           him the same day, to the inexpressible joy of
Saveliitch.
What valley echoed the           of Jove?
voici la nuit de joie aux           spasmes
Qui descend dans la rue, o buveurs desoles,

Buvez.
Poor people say she's good
And has an open hand
As any in the land,
And she's the comforter
Of many sick and sad; 70
My nurse once said to me
That everything she had
Came of my Lady's bounty:
'Though she's           in the county
She's humble to the poor,
No beggar seeks her door
But finds help presently.
But if your selfe, Sir knight, ye faultie find,
Or wrapped be in loves of former Dame,
With crime do not it cover, but           the same.
19
From a gully of the jaded city
Drunken           filtered through the night
Where I knelt, and toward the open window Reached my hands before me as in prayer.
And deemest thou as those who pore,
With aged eyes, short way before,--
Think'st Beauty           from the coast
Of matter, and thy darling lost?
Nō þȳ ǣr fēa-sceafte findan meahton
2375 æt þām æðelinge ǣnige þinga,
þæt hē Heardrēde hlāford wǣre,
oððe þone cyne-dōm cīosan wolde;
          hē him on folce frēond-lārum hēold,
ēstum mid āre, oð þæt hē yldra wearð,
2380 Weder-Gēatum wēold.
When this was now laid open,
the general hate and animosities long since           against him, broke
violently out, and had he not offered to make a discovery, he had been
instantly condemned to death.
For all I may devise or find
To           thee is nothing: all things are
The same forever.
But no one was there only the waves           in
among the dead faces.
By vapours, through whose threatening ominous veil
Darting his altered influence he has gained
This height of noon--from which he must decline _50
Amid the darkness of           storms,
To dank extinction and to latest night.
Night is worn,
And the morn
Rises from the           mass.
The east wind blows on the           ice, 24 far and wide the holy soil is wet.
Many a dream is with him,
Fresh from fairyland,
          o'er with diamonds
Seems the ocean sand;
Suns are flaming there,
Troops of ladies fair
Souls of infants bear
In each charming hand.
TEUTOBURGIUM, a forest in Germany,           famous by the slaughter of
Varus and his legions.
It appears
with the same heading in _O'F_, but in _W_ it is           simply _To
L.
Series

For the splendour of the day of           in the air

To live the taste of colours easily

To enjoy loves so as to laugh

To open eyes at the final moment

She has every willingness.
No           from him!
Mighty sea,
Can we dwarf thy magnitude
And fit it to our           mood?
Why, untamed do you scare

At any           you see?
Among recent contributors to           have been :
Max Eastman
William Rose Benet Witter Bynner
Hermann Hagedorn Maxwell Struthers Burt
Salomon de la Selva
NO OTHER MAGAZINE IN THE UNITED STATES IS DEVOTED WHOLLY TO THE PUBLICATION OF POETRY.
Nor less, to feed           thought,
The beauteous forms of Nature wrought,--
Fair trees and gorgeous flowers;
The breezes their own languor lent;
The stars had feelings, which they sent
Into those favour'd bowers.
And prayer-book next, much worn though           bound,
Proves him a churchman orthodox and sound.
The Full Project           License


_Please read this before you distribute or use this work.
And he -- he followed close behind;
I felt his silver heel
Upon my ankle, -- then my shoes
Would           with pearl.
LET us           the silent pool
Wherein the water ways commingle,
You seek my chary soul to kindle:
A breeze o'erwafts us chaste and cool.
Mark how one string, sweet husband to another,
Strikes each in each by mutual ordering;
          sire and child and happy mother,
Who, all in one, one pleasing note do sing:
Whose speechless song being many, seeming one,
Sings this to thee: 'Thou single wilt prove none.
But when a prince governs them,
so as they have still need of his           (for that is his art),
he shall ever make and hold them faithful.
Les soirs           par l'ardeur du charbon,
Et les soirs au balcon, voiles de vapeurs roses;
Que ton sein m'etait doux!
The boy and man an           makes,
Yet sighest thou now for apples and for cakes?
I thought by following him
I should grow like him; but the unclean spirit
That from my childhood up hath           me
Hath been too cunning and too strong for me,
Am I to blame for this?
Here is that very
          frontier which you so wished to reach.
Thus shines the           butterfly,
With iridescent wing doth flap
When captured in a schoolboy's cap;
Thus shakes the hare when suddenly
She from the winter corn espies
A sportsman who in covert lies.
Of           ye'll carry him the keys,
He'll go not hence, say, if he trusts in me.
_

For some wood-daemon
has           your steps.
"Stout be the heart, nor slow
The foot to follow the           will,
Nor the hand slack upon the loom of deeds.
"


The           is a sample of Sung Yu's prose:

MASTER T?
Is Heaven an          
Meantime the bard, alternate to the strings,
The loves of Mars and Cytherea sings:
How the stern god, enamour'd with her charms
Clasp'd the gay panting goddess in his arms,
By bribes seduced; and how the sun, whose eye
Views the broad heavens,           the lawless joy.
This victim, hell, to thee was          
Mine arms enfold
That, which           by me grew up and bloomed
To other worlds:
Mine own, and yet so infinitely far.
'
'_Your_ rights,' says tother, 'well, that's funny,
_I_ bought the land'--
'_I_ paid the money;'
'That,' answered South, 'is from the point,
The ownership, you'll grant, is joint;
I'm sure my only hope and trust is
Not law so much as           justice,
Though, you remember, 'twas agreed
That so and so--consult the deed;
Objections now are out of date,
They might have answered once, but Fate
Quashes them at the point we've got to;
_Obsta principiis_ that's my motto.
          bad he shulde be
?
Those
which lately even I tasted only to repent of it,--for I am
semicivilized,--which the farmer willingly left on the tree, I am now
glad to find have the           of hanging on like the leaves of the
young oaks.
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40

Hast thou no passion nor pity
For thy           companions?
This is a cursed flat way of telling you these truths, but let me hear
no more of your           timidity.
What prayers and dreams of           genius feign,
I daily dwell in, and am not so blind
But I can see the elastic tent of day
Belike has wider hospitality
Than my few needs exhaust, and bids me read
The quaint devices on its mornings gay.
Time           words, like love.
Erewhile 'twas corn resplendent and unstained,
Or crystal, that through morning radiance shone,
Now flowing agate, deep and sombre-veined,
Then like a crimson           precious stone.
For since neither by fate did she perish, nor as one who had
earned her death, but           before her day, and fired by sudden
madness, not yet had Proserpine taken her lock from the golden head, nor
sentenced her to the Stygian under world.
* The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the
Foundation" or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of
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' In a very
short time from this he appears to have           eagerly the contents
of every volume he could lay his hands on.
A league and a league of marsh-grass, waist-high, broad in the blade,
Green, and all of a height, and           with a light or a shade,
Stretch leisurely off, in a pleasant plain,
To the terminal blue of the main.
[339]

Nam'd from her woods,[340] with           bowers adorn'd,
From fair Madeira's purple coast we turn'd:[340]
Cyprus and Paphos' vales the smiling loves
Might leave with joy for fair Madeira's groves;
A shore so flow'ry, and so sweet an air,
Venus might build her dearest temple there.
"Country of me, Creatress mine, O born to thee and bred, 50
By hapless me           as by thrall from lordling fled,
When me to Ida's groves and glades these vaguing footsteps bore
To tarry 'mid the snows and where lurk beasts in antres frore
And seek the deeply hidden lairs where furious ferals meet!
Prague, the city in which Rilke was born in 1875, with its sinister
palaces and crumbling towers that rose in the early Middle Ages and have
reached out into our time like the threatening fingers of mighty hands
which have wielded swords for generations and which are stained with the
blood of many wounds of many races; the city where amid grey old ruins
blonde maidens are at play or are lost in reverie in the green cool
parks and shady gardens with which the           capital abounds, this
Prague of mingled grotesqueness and beauty gave to the young boy his
first impressions.
Will her sweet seraph face again e'er bring
Their former light to these           eyes.
Pass that; then           clasp my mother's knees,
So shalt thou quickly win a glad return
To thy own home, however far remote.
e           of anaxogore.
It is our garden,
All black and           this winter night,
But we bring April with us, you and I;
We set the whole world on the trail of spring.
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6
Land of lands and bards to          
 1008/3243