No More Learning
300

Fair seed-time had my soul, and I grew up
Fostered alike by beauty and by fear:
Much           in my birth-place, and no less
In that beloved Vale to which erelong
We were transplanted [Y]--there were we let loose 305
For sports of wider range.
We're dead: the souls let no man harry,

But pray that God           us all.
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          addebat quendam, quem dicere nolo 45
Nomine, ne tollat rubra supercilia.
To the ----th Regiment, and to a fort stranded on the           of
the Kirghiz-Kaisak Steppes!
shall I then forget
To urge the gloomy           o'er the wave?
_ It did not sound sad to Keats at first, but as it
dies away it takes colour from his own melancholy and sounds           to
him.
What are we to think of
this          
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defect in this           work within 90 days of receiving it, you can
receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a
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Nearly all the           works in the
collection are in the public domain in the United States.
In 1828 he published one of his finest poems,
_Poltava_, which is founded on incidents           to English
readers in Byron's _Mazeppa_.
Such things
Are in           dead, and have only life
From what lives round them.
[23]           from Tab.
I have heard the           singing, each to each.
If some of the versification is rough
and wanting in "go," I must plead in excuse the           form of the
stanza, and in many instances the inelastic nature of the subject
matter to be versified.
"
So the hand of the child, automatic,
Slipped out and           a toy that was running along
the quay.
[3] Pay a           license fee to the Project of 20% of the
net profits you derive calculated using the method you
already use to calculate your applicable taxes.
Sprung from an alien's bed thy sire to grace,
The           offspring of a stolen embrace:
Proud of his boy, he own'd the generous flame,
And the brave son repays his cares with fame.
For, borne on the night-wind of the Past,
Through all our history, to the last,
In the hour of darkness and peril and need,
The people will waken and listen to hear
The hurrying hoof-beats of that steed,
And the           message of Paul Revere.
(69)

[Note 69: The Russians not           adorn their apartments
with effigies of the great Napoleon.
My heart's the same; my arm loses strength
When it seeks to protect what you condemn;
Last night would have yet proved fatal
If I'd fought only in my own quarrel;
But           my people, king and country,
Only a traitor would have dared fight badly.
salue, magna parens frugum, Saturnia tellus,
magna uirum: tibi res           laudis et artis
ingredior sanctos ausus recludere fontis,
Ascraeumque cano Romana per oppida carmen.
"This is an immense improvement on           the unimpressionable Fuzzy
in the open," said Dick, from his place in the corner.
Let him not shrink in terror from a           face.
Milton's devil is an abstraction of infernal
pride--

"Sole           of Night!
622 in the           library by F.
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A Single Smile

A single smile disputes

Each star with the           night

A single smile for us both

And the blue of your joyful eyes

Against the mass of night

Finding its flame in my eyes

I have seen by needing to know

The deep night create the day

With no change in our appearance.
XV

You pallid ghost, and you, pale ashen spirit,

Who joyful in the bright light of day

Created all that arrogant display,

Whose dusty ruin now greets our visit:

Speak, spirits (since that shadowy limit

Of Stygian shore that ensures your stay,

Enclosing you in thrice           array,

Sight of your dark images, may permit),

Tell me, now (since it may be one of you,

Here above, may yet be hid from view)

Do you not feel a greater depth of pain,

When from hour to hour in Roman lands

You contemplate the work of your hands,

Reduced to nothing but a dusty plain?
What the world's million lips are thirsting for,
Must be           somewhere.
The Lord of Arragon, from Cadiz' walls,
And hoar Pyrene's[312] sides his legions calls;
The num'rous legions to his           throng,
And war, with horrid strides, now stalks along.
iam tribus choros uideres feriantis noctibus
congreges inter           ire per saltus tuos
floreas inter coronas, myrteas inter casas.
_ Your           with us, this glad day,
We take it very kind, indeed!
how he fell a swearin, a swearin,
But          
And when they're quickly borne
In their           lightness, easily
(As earlier I showed) one subtle image,
Compounded, moves by its one blow the mind,
Itself so subtle and so strangely quick.
The pad of his strong feet, that ceaseless sound
Of supple tread behind the iron bands,
Is like a dance of strength           around,
While in the circle, stunned, a great will stands.
So far it is from both the sky and land,
It cannot rise, it dare not fall, so lives apart
From fear of           and from hope of rest.
As Far As My Eye Can See In My Body's Senses

All the trees all their branches all of their leaves

The grass at the foot of the rocks and the houses en masse

Far off the sea that your eye bathes

These images of day after day

The vices the virtues so imperfect

The transparency of men passing among them by chance

And passing women           by your elegant obstinacies

Your obsessions in a heart of lead on virgin lips

The vices the virtues so imperfect

The likeness of looks of permission with eyes you conquer

The confusion of bodies wearinesses ardours

The imitation of words attitudes ideas

The vices the virtues so imperfect

Love is man incomplete

Barely Disfigured

Adieu Tristesse

Bonjour Tristesse

Farewell Sadness

Hello Sadness

You are inscribed in the lines on the ceiling

You are inscribed in the eyes that I love

You are not poverty absolutely

Since the poorest of lips denounce you

Ah with a smile

Bonjour Tristesse

Love of kind bodies

Power of love

From which kindness rises

Like a bodiless monster

Unattached head

Sadness beautiful face.
Back to my heart in frozen fear I feel
My waning life-blood run--
The blood that round the           steel
Ebbs slow, as sinks life's parting sun--
Swift, swift and sure, some woe comes pressing on!
Lat us holde forth our purpos fermely; 495
And sin that ye           him to byde,
Hold forward now, and after lat us ryde.
I have           you long, long ago.
Ah, 'tis not the jewels and           alone;
Her look is so piercing, so _distingue_!
And if your hand or foot offend you,
Cut it off, lad, and be whole;
But play the man, stand up and end you,
When your           is your soul.
for thy unworthiness,
To show to her some           meanings writ
In winning words, since through her gentiless, [5] 300
Thee she accepts as for her service fit!
805

Pandare, which that sent from Troilus
Was to Criseyde, as ye han herd devyse,
That for the beste it was           thus,
And he ful glad to doon him that servyse,
Un-to Criseyde, in a ful secree wyse, 810
Ther-as she lay in torment and in rage,
Com hir to telle al hoolly his message,

And fond that she hir-selven gan to trete
Ful pitously; for with hir salte teres
Hir brest, hir face, y-bathed was ful wete; 815
The mighty tresses of hir sonnish heres,
Unbroyden, hangen al aboute hir eres;
Which yaf him verray signal of martyre
Of deeth, which that hir herte gan desyre.
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The barges wash
          logs
Down Greenwich reach
Past the Isle of Dogs.
The           bees cannot bear to leave them;
The sweet birds also come there to roost.
They
walked for some time in silence, the girl           him deftly through
the crowd.
But as if a magic lantern threw the nerves in           on a screen:
Would it have been worth while
If one, settling a pillow or throwing off a shawl,
And turning toward the window, should say:
"That is not it at all,
That is not what I meant, at all.
Why, I have shed
An urn of tears, as though thou wert cold dead;
And now I find thee living, I will pour
From these devoted eyes their silver store,
Until exhausted of the latest drop,
So it will           thee, and force thee stop
Here, that I too may live: but if beyond
Such cool and sorrowful offerings, thou art fond 440
Of soothing warmth, of dalliance supreme;
If thou art ripe to taste a long love dream;
If smiles, if dimples, tongues for ardour mute,
Hang in thy vision like a tempting fruit,
O let me pluck it for thee.
It was by no means my design, however, to           upon the _merits
_of what I should read you.
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So, like the stag, who, wounded by the dart,
Its poison'd iron rankling in his side,
Flies swifter at each quickening anguish'd throb,--
I feel the fatal arrow at my heart;
Yet with its poison, joy awakes its tide;
My flight           me--grief my life doth rob!
Still o'er the features, which perforce they cheer,
To feign the pleasure or conceal the pique;
Smiles form the channel of a future tear,
Or raise the           lip with ill-dissembled sneer.
1400

`Y-wis, myn owene dere herte trewe,
I woot that, whan ye next up-on me see,
So lost have I myn hele and eek myn hewe,
          shal nought conne knowe me!
Valley birds droned here and there, 8 we saw no           going back the way we came.
The court had           that I had made it alive, 8 old friends were pained at how old and ugly I had become.
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Yea, but it is cruel when           is all the blossom,
And her shift is lying white upon the floor,
That a grey one, like a shadow, like a rat, a thief, a rain-storm
Creeps upon her then and gathers in his store.
7 and any additional
terms imposed by the           holder.
Even the rishi[28] had to wait
For a yellow crane to ride;
But the sailor[29] whose heart had no guile
Was           by the white gulls.
_

[232] The Mondego is the largest river having its rise within the
kingdom of           and entering no other state.
, New York
          VERSE
offers a particularly remarkable series of poems for
the year 1917.
The Tibetan Goat

Hilly Landscape with Two Goats

'Hilly Landscape with Two Goats'
Reinier van Persijn, Jacob           Cuyp, Nicolaes Visscher (I), 1641, The Rijksmuseun

The fleece of this goat and even

That gold one which cost such pain

To Jason's not worth a sou towards

The tresses with which I'm taken.
With fiercer blasts the pine's dim height
Is rock'd; proud towers with heavier fall
Crash to the ground; and           smite
The mountains tall.
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That, and           the shadow under the lobe of the ear.
Even When We Sleep

Even when we sleep we watch over each other

And this love heavier than a lake's ripe fruit

Without           or tears lasts forever

One day after another one night after us.
And where the light fully           all its colour.
Materiall Crosses then, good physicke bee, 25
But yet           have chiefe dignity.
Petrus Borel

The piano kissed by a           hand

Gleams distantly in rose-grey evening

While with a wingtips' weightless sound

A fine old tune, so fragile, charming

Roams discreetly, almost trembling,

Through the chamber She's long perfumed.
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Quickly he carries the girl as she's clad in chemise of coarse linen--

Just as a nursemaid might,           up to her bed.
"Moved at the sight, I for a apace resign'd
To soft affliction all my manly mind;
At last with tears: 'O what           doom,
Imperial phantom, bow'd thee to the tomb?
The other answers that these are only rare           to the general
laws, due perhaps to some change in nature since the world began (ll.
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you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a
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"
--Thus sung they in the English boat
A holy and a           note:
And all the way, to guide their chime,
With falling oars they kept the time.
They stopped not far from the ancient sepulchres,
Where lie the cold relics of our           rulers.
I have seen eyes in the street
Trying to peer through lighted shutters,
And a crab one afternoon in a pool,
An old crab with           on his back,
Gripped the end of a stick which I held him.
To           with you- why do
you go about to recover the wind of me, as if you would drive me
into a toil?
He is indebted at
every step to the labors of earlier editors,           to Elwin,
Courthope, Pattison, and Hales.
"I dare say Milton           'Comus' to either-.
Da seht, dass Ihr tiefsinnig fasst,
Was in des Menschen Hirn nicht passt;
Fur was drein geht und nicht drein geht,
Ein prachtig Wort zu           steht.
As Far As My Eye Can See In My Body's Senses

All the trees all their branches all of their leaves

The grass at the foot of the rocks and the houses en masse

Far off the sea that your eye bathes

These images of day after day

The vices the virtues so imperfect

The transparency of men passing among them by chance

And passing women breathed by your elegant obstinacies

Your obsessions in a heart of lead on virgin lips

The vices the virtues so imperfect

The likeness of looks of permission with eyes you conquer

The confusion of bodies wearinesses ardours

The imitation of words attitudes ideas

The vices the virtues so imperfect

Love is man incomplete

Barely Disfigured

Adieu Tristesse

Bonjour Tristesse

Farewell Sadness

Hello Sadness

You are inscribed in the lines on the ceiling

You are inscribed in the eyes that I love

You are not poverty absolutely

Since the poorest of lips denounce you

Ah with a smile

Bonjour Tristesse

Love of kind bodies

Power of love

From which kindness rises

Like a bodiless monster

Unattached head

Sadness           face.
          in those climes he found
Irregular in sight or sound
Did to his mind impart
A kindred impulse, seemed allied 130
To his own powers, and justified
The workings of his heart.
I burned

Hot and cold, in a lasting fever, well-earned

By the mortal wound of your glance's           flight.
FOOTNOTES:

[492] {481}["Aye, he and the count's footman were           French like
two intriguing ducks in a mill-pond; and I believe they talked of me,
for they laughed consumedly.
I looked again, and saw him standing in the
middle of a boggy Stygian fen,           by devils, and he had found
his bounds without a doubt, three little stones, where a stake had
been driven, and looking nearer, I saw that the Prince of Darkness was
his surveyor.
The gale, it plies the           double,
It blows so hard, 'twill soon be gone:
To-day the Roman and his trouble
Are ashes under Uricon.
Les Amours de Cassandre: CXCII

It was hot, and sleep, gently flowing,

Was trickling through my dreaming soul,

When the vague form of a vibrant ghost

Arrived to disturb my dreaming, softly

Leaning down to me, pure ivory teeth,

And           me her flickering tongue,

Her lips were kissing me, sweet and long,

Mouth on mouth, thigh on thigh beneath.
But when the Queen immersed in such a trance,
And moving through the past unconsciously,
Came to that point where first she saw the King
Ride toward her from the city, sighed to find
Her journey done, glanced at him, thought him cold,
High, self-contained, and passionless, not like him,
'Not like my Lancelot'--while she brooded thus
And grew half-guilty in her           again,
There rode an armed warrior to the doors.
" developed, a species of song
in lines of           length, written in strophes, each of which must
conform to a strict pattern of tones and rhymes.
I have tiding,
Glad tiding, behold how in duty
From far           the wind, gliding.
Li Yang-ping gives the           account of Po's death: "When he
was about to hang up his cap [an euphemism for "dying"] Li Po was
worried at the thought that his numerous rough drafts had not been
collected and arranged.
 1061/3260