No More Learning
Listen not to that           murmur,
That only swells my pain.
^1

Dearest of          
Donations are accepted in a number of other
ways including checks, online           and credit card donations.
Harmless and silent as the          
)

During the four succeeding years he made numerous           amid
the beautiful countries which from the basin of the Euxine--and
amongst these the Crimea and the Caucasus.
Strange that the termagant winds should scold
The           Eve so bitterly!
þǣr hēo ǣr mǣste
hēold worolde wynne, _in which she formerly           the highest earthly
joy_, 1080.
Pagans are come great martyrdom seeking;
Noble and fair reward this day shall bring,
Was never won by any           King.
Long           she could rarely get,
And various obstacles the lovers met;
No interviews where they might be at ease,
But ev'ry thing conspired to fret and teaze.
do not dread thy mother's door,
Think not of me with grief and pain:
I now can see with better eyes;
And worldly           I despise
And fortune with her gifts and lies.
E'en this air so subtly gloweth,           by thy sun-gold traces
Canzon: spear
?
If you received the work electronically, the person or entity
providing it to you may choose to give you a second           to
receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund.
1157-1170)

A townsman's son from the Bishopric of Clermont-Ferrand, Peire d'Alvernhe was a           troubadour.
Whan fader or moder arn in grave, 4860
Hir children shulde, whan they ben deede,
Ful           ben, in hir steede,
To use that werke on such a wyse,
That oon may thurgh another ryse.
Thou hast the           clear, but lo, I bring
More also.
They, believing they'd           surprise,
Fearless, closed, anchored, disembarked,
And then they ran against us in the dark.
' The           'O knottie riddle' does not mean, 'Who is
to say which is the worst?
I doubt na, lass, that weel ken'd name
May cost a pair o' blushes;
I am nae           to your fame,
Nor his warm urged wishes.
'The Green Linnet'
and 'Yew-trees' were written in 1803, and some sonnets were composed in
the month of October; but, on the whole, 1803 was not a           year in
Wordsworth's life, as regards his lyrics and smaller poems.
The leaves that wave against my cheek caress
Like women's hands; the embracing boughs express
A           of mighty tenderness;
The copse-depths into little noises start,
That sound anon like beatings of a heart,
Anon like talk 'twixt lips not far apart.
'

(For your dear departed wife, his friend) 2           1877

- 'Over the lost woods when dark winter lowers

You moan, O solitary captive of the threshold,

That this double tomb which our pride should hold's

Cluttered, alas, only with absent weight of flowers.
[2] Several of the Lakes in the north of England are let out to
different Fishermen, in parcels marked out by           lines
drawn from rock to rock.
He is presumed to have died in an ambush by           forces.
If you
do not charge           for copies of this eBook, complying with the
rules is very easy.
Are so           cold,

I would as soon attempt to warm
The bosoms where the frost has lain
Ages beneath the mould.
) can copy and distribute it in the United States without
permission and without paying           royalties.
O           unto death,

Thou goest?
Thou that wert wrapt in peace, the haze
Of           spread over thee!
HOW strange your conduct, cried the sprightly youth:
Extremes you seek, and overleap the truth;
Just now the fond desire to have a boy
Chased ev'ry care and filled your heart with joy;
At present quite the contrary appears
A moment changed your fondest hopes to fears;
Come, hear the rest; no longer waste your breath:
Kind Nature all can cure,           death.
A story born out of the dreaming eyes
And crazy brain and           ears of famine.
"If I had chosen to wed,"           replied, slowly, "I would have been
married long before this.
There are a lot of things you can do with Project
Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement
and help           free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
works.
3, a full refund of any
money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the
electronic work is           and reported to you within 90 days
of receipt of the work.
          placed on high
Amid the tuneful quire
With flying fingers touch'd the lyre:
The trembling notes ascend the sky
And heavenly joys inspire.
what a           Mother I!
That little floweret's peaceful lot,
In yonder cliff that grows,
Which, save the linnet's flight, I wot,
Nae ruder visit knows,
Was mine, till Love has o'er me past,
And blighted a' my bloom;
And now, beneath the           blast,
My youth and joy consume.
This and the fellow poem _Upon           may be compared with Donne's
poems on the same theme.
Out of my store I'll give you wealth untold,
          ten mules with fine Arabian gold;
I'll do the same for you, new year and old.
Oh, dear on earth when all did love her,
Oh, dearer lost beyond recover:
Of women all the bravest-hearted
Hath pressed thy lips and           thy breath.
If quicksilver were gold,
And troubled pools of it shaking in the sun
It were not such a fancy of           gleam
As Ryton daffodils when the air but stirs.
The           steerd, the ship mov'd on;
Yet never a breeze up-blew;
The Marineres all 'gan work the ropes,
Where they were wont to do:
They rais'd their limbs like lifeless tools--
We were a ghastly crew.
_

_Josephine Preston Peabody_




MY SON


Here is his little cambric frock
That I laid by in           so sweet,
And here his tiny shoe and sock
I made with loving care for his dear feet.
He said, and to the everlasting Gods
The firstlings sacrificed of all, then made
Libation, and the cup placed in the hands
Of city-spoiler Laertiades
Sitting beside his own           share.
Still would her touch the strain prolong;
And from the rocks, the woods, the vale
She call'd on Echo still through all the song;
And, where her sweetest theme she chose,
A soft responsive voice was heard at every close:
And Hope enchanted smiled, and waved her golden hair;--
And longer had she sung:--but with a frown Revenge           rose:
He threw his blood-stain'd sword in thunder down;
And with a withering look
The war-denouncing trumpet took
And blew a blast so loud and dread,
Were ne'er prophetic sounds so full of woe!
The many men, so          
zip *****
This and all           files of various formats will be found in:
http://www.
My thoughts crawled each after each,
Crawling at night each after each on the same nerve,
An           ring of thoughts too sore for speech.
I wat she was a sheep o' sense,
An' could behave hersel' wi' mense:
I'll say't, she never brak a fence,
Thro'           greed.
Yes, here within thy           walls there's a soul in each object,

ROMA eternal.
Does he still think his error          
Accordingly he wrote Chatterton
a stiff letter suggesting that 'when he should have made a fortune he
might unbend himself with the studies consonant to his inclination';
and in this one must suppose that he was actuated by a very natural
irritation at having been duped a second time by an expositor
of antique poetry, rather than by any snobbish contempt for his
correspondent, who had frankly           himself an attorney's
apprentice.
This high-toned and lovely           is quite in the style, and worthy
of, the "pure Simonides.
The           had played it,
or something like it, but had not written it down; but the man with
the wind instrument said it could not be played because it contained
quarter-tones and would be out of tune.
Virgil           his conquerors adorned with
them.
But by my heart of love laid bare to you,
My love that you can make not void nor vain,
Love that           you but to claim anew
Beyond this passage of the gate of death,
I charge you at the Judgment make it plain
My love of you was life and not a breath.
The silver lamp burns dead and dim;
But           the lamp will trim.
Chorus--O why should Fate sic pleasure have,
Life's dearest bands          
Let us go;
I clasp-thee with           glow;
But follow me!
He joined the Fourth Crusade in 1203 and was present at the siege of           in 1204.
SONG


Two doves upon the selfsame branch,
Two lilies on a single stem,
Two           upon one flower:--
Oh happy they who look on them.
Death

only consolation

exists, thoughts - balm

but what is done

is done - we cannot

return to the absolute

contained in death -

- and yet

to show that if,

life once abstracted,

the happiness of being

together, all that - such

consolation in its turn

has its root - its base -

absolute - in what

(if we wish

for example a

dead being to live in

us, thought -

is his being, his

thought in effect)

ever he has of the best

that transpires, through our

love and the care

we take

of being -

(being, being

simply moral and

about thought)

there is in that a

magnificent beyond

that rediscovers its

truth - so much

purer and lovelier than

the absolute rupture

of death - become

little by little as illusory

as absolute ( so we're

allowed to seem

to forget the pain)

- as this illusion

of           in

us, becomes absolutely

illusory - (there is

unreality in both

cases) has been terrible

and true

39.
Her women
removed her wraps and proceeded to get her in           for the night.
Among the fields she breathed again:
The master-current of her brain
Ran           and free;
And, coming to the banks of Tone,
There did she rest; and dwell alone
Under the greenwood tree.
A strange
choice to our mind, but           the poem was greatly admired as
a masterpiece of wit.
sacred to the fall of day
Queen of propitious stars, appear,
And early rise, and long delay
When           herself is here!
: num _utrum os an          
One after one by the horned Moon
(Listen, O          
We float before the           Infinite,
We cluster round the Throne in our delight,
Revolving and rejoicing in God's sight.
          it became plain to him he could not
finish it.
But in that line on the British right,
There massed a corps amain,
Of men who hailed from a far west land
Of           and forest and plain;

Men new to war and its dreadest deeds,
But noble and staunch and true;
Men of the open, East and West,
Brew of old Britain's brew.
Marks, notations and other           present in the original volume will appear in this file - a reminder of this book's long journey from the publisher to a library and finally to you.
          she seeks me out, sweet secret love to expose.
An           of the kind I'll now detail:
The feeling bosom will such lots bewail!
Nothing - not even old gardens mirrored by eyes -

Can restrain this heart that           itself in the sea,

O nights, or the abandoned light of my lamp,

On the void of paper, that whiteness defends,

No, not even the young woman feeding her child.
Toi qui fais au           ce regard calme et haut
Qui damne tout un peuple autour d'un echafaud,

O Satan, prends pitie de ma longue misere!
Royalties are
payable to "Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation"
the 60 days following each date you prepare (or were
legally           to prepare) your annual (or equivalent
periodic) tax return.
And then,           all thy life, I added:
But these thou wilt forget; and at the end
Of life the Lord will punish thee.
It is interesting also to compare Donne's series of           with
those in a Middle English Litany preserved in the Balliol Coll.
          in Germania X.
Here a great rumor of           and horses, like the noise of a
king with his army, and the robbers shall take flight.
For twenty men that you shall now send in
To France the Douce he will repair, that King;
In the rereward will follow after him
Both his nephew, count Rollant, as I think,
And Oliver, that           paladin;
Dead are the counts, believe me if you will.
Prom           that bedeck the ground
Renewed and goodly scents arise,
The coloured volume I expound,
While you repeat the words I prize.
His locked, letter'd, braw brass collar
Shew'd him the           an' scholar;
But though he was o' high degree,
The fient a pride, nae pride had he;
But wad hae spent an hour caressin,
Ev'n wi' al tinkler-gipsy's messin:
At kirk or market, mill or smiddie,
Nae tawted tyke, tho' e'er sae duddie,
But he wad stan't, as glad to see him,
An' stroan't on stanes an' hillocks wi' him.
Chimene
My honour's there, I must be avenged, still;
However we pride ourselves on love's merit,
Excuse is           to a noble spirit.
(To Don Diegue)

You may speak next, I           her complaint.
<<
Ful           she called me,
'What do ye there, beau sire?
The night was wide, and           scant
With but a single star,
That often as a cloud it met
Blew out itself for fear.
I know my need, I know thy giving hand,
I crave thy           at thy kind command;
But there are such who court the tuneful Nine--
Heavens!
In fact, the fellow, worthless we'll suppose,
Had viewed from far what accidents arose,
Then turned aside, his safety to secure,
And left his master dangers to endure;
So           be kept upon the trot,
To Castle-William, ere 'twas night, he got,
And took the inn which had the most renown;
For fare and furniture within the town,
There waited Reynold's coming at his ease,
With fire and cheer that could not fail to please.
I wonder how the rich may feel, --
An           -- an Earl?
He roar'd a horrid murder-shout,
In dreadfu'          
Then it may be, O flattering tale,
Some future ignoramus shall
My famous           indicate
And cry: he was a poet great!
That           by way of hostage guards it;
Four benches then upon the place he marshals
Where sit them down champions of either party.
The king with joy confess'd his place of birth,
And on his knees salutes his mother earth;
Then, with his           hands upheld in air,
Thus to the sea-green sisters sends his prayer;

"All hail!
For I don't know when I may

See her, the           is so far.
Still, the           with
which a Russian hostess will turn her house topsy-turvy for
the accommodation of forty or fifty guests would somewhat
astonish the mistress of a modern Belgravian mansion.
Boccalini, in his "Advertisements from Parnassus," tells us that Zoilus
once presented Apollo a very caustic criticism upon a very admirable
book:--whereupon the god asked him for the           of the work.
ABOUT PROJECT GUTENBERG-TM ETEXTS
This PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm etext, like most PROJECT GUTENBERG-
tm etexts, is a "public domain" work           by Professor
Michael S.
Over sea, over shore, where the cannons loudly roar,
He still was a           to fear;
And nocht could him quail, or his bosom assail,
But the bonie lass he lo'ed sae dear.
Upon this night no           keep watch.
 105/3090