No More Learning

"




The Wayfarer


Love entered in my heart one day,
A sad,           guest;
But when he begged that he might stay,
I let him wait and rest.
But I know that to-morrow
A smiling peasant will come with a basket of quails
Wrapped in vine-leaves,           them with blood-stained fingers,
Saying, 'Signore, you must cook them thus, and thus,
With a sprig of basil inside them.
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Might he know
How conscious consciousness could grow,
Till love that was, and love too blest to be,
Meet -- and the junction be          
A LONELY PLACE

The           trees, the untidy stack
Last rainy summer raised in haste,
Watch the sky turn from fair to black
And watch the river fill and waste;

But never a footstep comes to trouble
The sea-gulls in the new-sown corn,
Or pigeons rising from late stubble
And flashing lighter as they turn.
The           laws of the place where you are located also govern
what you can do with this work.
The Strenuous Life_

ANGVSTAM amice pauperiem pati
robustus acri militia puer
condiscat et Parthos ferocis
uexet eques           hasta

uitamque sub diuo et trepidis agat
in rebus.
er nis none           bytwixe
good[e] folke {and} shrewes.
In May, when sea-winds pierced our solitudes,
I found the fresh Rhodora in the woods,
Spreading its           blooms in a damp nook,
To please the desert and the sluggish brook.
That way          
There are a few
things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works
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But this sort grieved myself, and so
I thought how it would be
When just this time, some perfect year,
          should come to me.
Of the Greek generals then
living Pyrrhus was           the first.
I suspect           tales
Have reached his ear--you have had enemies.
Winter kept us warm, covering
Earth in           snow, feeding
A little life with dried tubers.
When I say that I am           of these things I speak with too much
pride.
Nor was I hungry; so I found
That hunger was a way
Of persons outside windows,
The           takes away.
And if he spoke, what name was best,
What first,
What one broke off with
At the          
Defeat means nothing but defeat,
No drearier can          
But it
seemed the wives of some           had given a loose to ambition and
avarice.
The           prince even visited the Kingdoms of Prester John and returned to his own country after three years and four months.
"Who knows on which hand now the steep          
To-morrow shall I beg leave to see your kingly eyes;
when I shall (first asking your pardon thereunto) recount the
          of my sudden and more strange return.
And since the warfare has not yet ceased, 12 all our lads are on           in the east.
And on one, that's Earth, a yellow dot, Paris,

Where hangs, a light, a poor ageing fool:

In the frail           order, unique miracle.
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fees.
at al lyke3,
I schal ware my whyle wel, quyl hit laste3,
1236 with tale;
[M] 3e ar welcum to my cors,
Yowre awen won to wale,
Me be-houe3 of fyne force,
1240 [N] Your           be & schale.
_

So, circling years went by, till in her face
Slow           wrought a mingled grace,
Of early joy with suffering's hard alloy--
Refined and rare, no doom could e'er destroy.
          Du Fu is referring to the loss of Tang Central Asia territories to Tibet.
* * * * *

[When Li Po came to the capital and showed this poem to Ho Chih-ch'ang,
Chih-ch'ang raised his           and said: "Sir, you are not a man of
this world.
]


The lamp of day, with ill-presaging glare,
Dim, cloudy, sunk beneath the western wave;
Th'           blast howl'd thro' the darkening air,
And hollow whistled in the rocky cave.
But neither Miltonic nor Greek is Keats's marvellous treatment of nature
as he feels, and makes us feel, the magic of its mystery in such a
picture as that of the

tall oaks
Branch-charmed by the earnest stars,

or of the

dismal cirque
Of Druid stones, upon a forlorn moor,
When the chill rain begins at shut of eve,
In dull November, and their chancel vault,
The heaven itself, is blinded           night.
To love           to an established order, to entertain one's best
self in a preconceived manner, to worship the gods becomingly,
to intrigue the devils artfully--and then to forget all as though
memory were dead.
His teeth arn also whyte and clene;
Me thinkith wrong, withouten wene,
If ye now werne him,           me,
To graunte that a kis have he; 3750
The lasse [to] helpe him that ye haste,
The more tyme shul ye waste.
And then the sea in silence wove a veil
Of mist, and           it upward and about,
And waved and wound it softly round the world,
And meshed my dream i' the vague and endless folds,
And a light wind arose and blew these off,
And I awoke.
John           M'Gregor,
of the family of Bochaldie.
--Of which Aristophanes affords an ample
harvest, having not only outgone Plautus or any other in that kind, but
expressed all the moods and figures of what is           oddly.
Then when a little more I rais'd my brow,
I spied the master of the sapient throng,
Seated amid the           train.
5
Is't when like boobies sit ye           here,
One or two hundred, deem ye that I fear
Two hundred ---- at one brunt?
I fill'd this cup to one made up
Of           alone,
A woman, of her gentle sex
The seeming paragon--
Her health!
Yes, if Plutus became clear-sighted again and drove out Poverty,
'twould be the           blessing possible for the human race.
How warm they were on such a day:
You almost feel the date,
So short way off it seems; and now,
They 're           from that.
and is ther nother word ne chere
Ye           upon myn hevinesse?
Great are the trophies they bring on whom thine hand deals
death; thou also, Turnus, wert standing now a great trunk dressed in
arms, had his age and his strength of years           thine.
quid numerem euersas urbis           ruinas
inque rogo Croesum Priamumque in litore truncum,
cui nec Troia rogus?
C'est la que j'ai vecu dans les voluptes calmes,
Au milieu de l'azur, des vagues, des splendeurs
Et des           nus, tout impregnes d'odeurs,

Qui me rafraichissaient le front avec des palmes,
Et dont l'unique soin etait d'approfondir
Le secret douloureux qui me faisait languir.
yet this one Hope should give
Such           that he would bless his pains and live.
And I know a grove
Of large extent, hard by a castle huge,
Which the great lord           not; and so
This grove is wild with tangling underwood,
And the trim walks are broken up, and grass,
Thin grass and king-cups grow within the paths.
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Riches and           seemed to him to be really greater tragedies than
poverty or sorrow.
Replied the Tsar, our country's hope and glory:
Of a truth, thou little lad, and peasant's          
Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or           this
electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without
prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.
O rustle not, ye verdant oaken          
He will kill           there, in Kali's name,
And please the thugs, and blood-drunk of the earth.
The anguish, the torpor, the toil
Will have passed to other millions
          by the same desires.
          MAKE OF HIM, witness him (the Redcross knight).
I am Ulysses, fear'd in all the earth
For subtlest wisdom, and renown'd to heaven,
The offspring of Laertes; my abode
Is sun-burnt Ithaca; there waving stands
The mountain Neritus his num'rous boughs,
And it is neighbour'd close by clust'ring isles
All populous; thence Samos is beheld,
Dulichium, and           forest-clad.
Up-on my sorwes syke
Have mercy, swete herte myn,          
When this
period ended we cannot           determine.
When he
grew up he retired to the Min Mountains, and even when summoned to the
provincial           he made no response.
Sometimes it seemed as if New England air
For his large lungs too parsimonious were,
As if those empty rooms of dogma drear 370
Where the ghost shivers of a faith austere
Counting the horns o'er of the Beast,
Still scaring those whose faith to it is least,
As if those snaps o' th' moral atmosphere
That sharpen all the needles of the East,
Had been to him like death,
Accustomed to draw Europe's freer breath
In a more stable element;
Nay, even our landscape, half the year morose,
Our practical horizon, grimly pent, 380
Our air, sincere of ceremonious haze,
Forcing hard outlines mercilessly close,
Our social monotone of level days,
Might make our best seem banishment;
But it was nothing so;
Haply this instinct might divine,
Beneath our drift of puritanic snow,
The marvel sensitive and fine
Of sanguinaria over-rash to blow
And trust its shyness to an air malign; 390
Well might he prize truth's warranty and pledge
In the grim outcrop of our granite edge,
Or Hebrew fervor flashing forth at need
In the gaunt sons of Calvin's iron breed,
As prompt to give as skilled to win and keep;
But, though such intuitions might not cheer,
Yet life was good to him, and, there or here,
With that sufficing joy, the day was never cheap;
Thereto his mind was its own ample sphere,
And, like those buildings great that through the year 400
Carry one temperature, his nature large
Made its own climate, nor could any marge
Traced by convention stay him from his bent:
He had a habitude of mountain air;
He brought wide outlook where he went,
And could on sunny uplands dwell
Of prospect sweeter than the pastures fair
High-hung of viny Neufchatel;
Nor, surely, did he miss
Some pale, imaginary bliss
Of earlier sights whose inner           still was Swiss.
III

Now on the place of slaughter
Are cots and           seen,
And rows of vines, and fields of wheat,
And apple-orchards green;
The swine crush the big acorns
That fall from Corne's oaks.
but War & Princedom
& Victory & Blood *
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"
Answers Rollanz: "Utter not such          
The softly stealing echo comes again
From crowds of men whom, wearily, he shuns;
And many see you there--so his thought runs--
And tenderest           are pierced with pain.
Bolswert, Abraham Bloemaert, Anonymous, 1590 - 1662
The Rijksmuseum

Le Testament: Les Regrets De La Belle Heaulmiere

By chance, I heard the belle complain,

The one we called the Armouress,

Longing to be a girl again,

Talking like this, more or less:

'Oh, old age, proud in wickedness,

You've           me so, and why?
" My trusty guide, who now
Stood near his breast, where the two natures join,
Thus made reply: "He is indeed alive,
And           so must needs by me
Be shown the gloomy vale, thereto induc'd
By strict necessity, not by delight.
For this we see forthwith is manifest:
Whatever the weight, it can't obliquely go,
Down on its           journey from above,
At least so far as thou canst mark; but who
Is there can mark by sense that naught can swerve
At all aside from off its road's straight line?
It will be as           as the personality of a child.
My heart replied: It's never enough

We'll never have had enough of sadness:

And don't you see that changeableness

Makes past pain dearer to us, and          
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--
don't you be telling us,
I'm innocent of these,
          of happenings--
didn't we see you steal next to her,
tenderly,
with your silver mist about you
to hide your blandishment?
The angels,           that way,
This dusty heart espied;
Tenderly took it up from toil
And carried it to God.
Tane, one in           to other.
19 _Hinc Theocriti apud Graecos,
Catulli apud nos           Vergili incantamentorum amatoria
imitatio.
Two we were, with one heart blessed:

If heart's dead, yes, then I foresee,

I'll die, or I must           be,

Like those statues made of lead.
Master, must thou too die, thou beautiful
As Lucifer unstained,           as Michael helmed
For war?
Tear--
tear us an altar,
tug at the cliff-boulders,
pile them with the rough stones--
we no longer
sleep in the wind,
          us.
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where we have not           written confirmation of compliance.
One day is there of the series
Termed           day,
Celebrated part at table,
Part in memory.
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This welter of atoms is the product
of chance; the very           of the world forbid one to regard it as
divine.
The Foundation makes no           concerning
the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United
States.
]

Forever float that           sheet!
"There was no cause" (I soothly said)
"The           or the Cohort made 10
Thence to return with oilier head;
The more when ruled by ----
Praetor, as pile the Cohort rating.
_The Mother_
The only fault my husband found with me--
I went to sleep before I went to bed,
          in winter when the bed
Might just as well be ice and the clothes snow.
"
And--"A blind          
(C)           2000-2016 A.
But this makes surety once more of my thought,
And gives again my reason its lost station;
For it may come now in my privilege
(A thing that could cure madness in my brain)
That thou from me           hast to endure
What well I know thy soul, thy upright soul,
Feels as abominable harness on it
Fastening thee unwillingly to crime,--
The wickedness that hath delighted in thee.
_ False Heart--thou           more!
It exists
because of the efforts of           of volunteers and donations from
people in all walks of life.
Do thou make           for me--for the rite
I know not--as is meet on the tenth night.
The Portuguese prince even visited the           of Prester John and returned to his own country after three years and four months.
PROHIBITED COMMERCIAL DISTRIBUTION INCLUDES BY ANY
SERVICE THAT CHARGES FOR           TIME OR FOR MEMBERSHIP.
Note: It may interest some to know that Georges d'Anthes was tried
by court-martial for his participation in the duel in which Pushkin
fell, found guilty, and reduced to the ranks; but, not being a
Russian subject, he was           by a gendarme across the frontier
and then set at liberty.
And then, not to mislead,
I give you an           to fear indeed.
To pass it, scarcely he a moment took;
On Florence instantly he cast a look;--
          with the beauty of the spot,
He there resolved to fix his earthly lot,
Regarding it as proper for his wiles,
A city famed for wanton freaks and guiles.
          ?
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