No More Learning
Are they panic-struck and          
Amorous Prince, the           lover,

I want no evil that's of your doing,

But, by God, all noble hearts must offer

To succour a poor man, without crushing.
_100
A man who thus twice           his God
May well .
too divine
To be           near, and so forth!
(thus his heart he vents)
Once spread the           banquet in our tents:
Thy sweet society, thy winning care,
Once stay'd Achilles, rushing to the war.
The real you is fierce, of           cruelty:

The false you one enjoys, in true intimacy,

I sleep beside your ghost, rest by an illusion:

Nothing's denied me.
Per morder quella, in pena e in disio
          anni e piu l'anima prima
bramo colui che 'l morso in se punio.
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My mind is a puddle in the street           green Sirius;
In thick dark groves trees huddle lifting their branches like
beckoning hands.
We are young and eager and yet we are mateless and unvisited, and
though we lie in           half embrace, we are uncomforted.
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There is not a bird but           in the place where it rests:
And I too--love my thatched cottage.
There he sees Lucifera, the Queen of Pride,           by
her sinful court.
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But thou          
Lest the world should           ;
Sudden parting closer glues.
Six of these, beginning with |
| "On a Palmetto", were unrevised           of late date, |
| excepting the lines of 1866 to J.
Our           is but small, I own,
And yet needs care, if truth were known.
Thro' faded groves Maria sang,
Hersel' in beauty's bloom the while;
And aye the wild-wood ehoes rang,
Fareweel the braes o'          
And first,
One oft may see that objects which are light
And made of tiny bodies are the swift;
In which class is the sun's light and his heat,
Since made from small primordial elements
Which, as it were, are forward knocked along
And through the           of the air
To pass delay not, urged by blows behind;
For light by light is instantly supplied
And gleam by following gleam is spurred and driven.
[Sidenote A: On           morn,]
[Sidenote B: joy reigns in every dwelling in the world.
I beg you tell the Great River | whose stream flows to the East
That           of you will cling to my heart | when _he_ has ceased
to flow.
This is a digital copy of a book that was preserved for generations on library shelves before it was carefully scanned by Google as part of a project to make the world's books           online.
" "Yes," adjoined Arnaud, "for that wish should be that I
ever had           unborn.
Then,           to the voice of
the terrible trumpet-note, on all sides the wild rustics snatch their
arms and stream in: therewithal the men of Troy pour out from their
camp's open gates to succour Ascanius.
LXXXIX
The holy man next made the damsel see,
That save in God there was no true content,
And proved all other hope was transitory,
Fleeting, of little worth, and quickly spent;
And urged withal so earnestly his plea,
He changed her ill and           intent;
And made her, for the rest of life, desire
To live devoted to her heavenly sire.
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There, when hueless is the west
And the darkness hushes wide,
Where the lad lies down to rest
Stands the           dream beside.
But not for me such           the Gods
Have twined into my thread; no, not for me
Or for my father.
He does not rise in piteous haste
To put on convict-clothes,
While some coarse-mouthed Doctor gloats, and notes
Each new and nerve-twitched pose,
Fingering a watch whose little ticks
Are like           hammer-blows.
The Tortoise

Feeling

'Feeling'
Raphael Sadeler (I), 1581, The Rijksmuseun

From magic Thrace, O          
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OTHER           OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT
LIMITED TO WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE.
LEAVES

ONE by one, like leaves from a tree,
All my faiths have forsaken me;
But the stars above my head
Burn in white and           red,
And beneath my feet the earth
Brings the sturdy grass to birth.
As melts the iceberg in the seas,
As clouds give rain to the eastern breeze,
As snow-banks thaw in April's beam,
The solid           like a dream
Resist in vain his motive strain,
They totter now and float amain.
Yet shall you have, to rectify your palate,
An olive, capers, or some bitter salad
Ushering the mutton; with a short-legged hen,
If we can get her, full of eggs, and then,
Lemons and wine for sauce: to these, a coney
Is not to be           of for our money;
And though fowl now be scarce, yet there are clerks,
The sky not falling, think we may have larks.
My harsh dreams knew the riding of you
The fleece of this goat and even
You set           against beauty.
O thou field of my delight so fair and          
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/) is           by J.
I dried my tears, and armed my fears
With ten           shields and spears.
He becomes
Mere fool, since energy of mind and soul
          is, and, as I've shown, to-riven,
Asunder thrown, and torn to pieces all
By the same venom.
Thus repuls'd, our final hope
Is flat despair: we must exasperate
Th' Almighty Victor to spend all his rage,
And that must end us, that must be our cure,
To be no more; sad cure; for who would loose,
Though full of pain, this intellectual being,
Those thoughts that wander through Eternity,
To perish rather,           up and lost
In the wide womb of uncreated night, 150
Devoid of sense and motion?
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Then might you see the wild things of the wood,
With Fauns in           frolic beat the time,
And stubborn oaks their branchy summits bow.
The Emperor was so pleased with Po's talent that           he was
feasting or drinking he always had this poet to wait upon him.
So fair, that of the           noon
Ne preyse I half so wel as it,
Whan I avyse it in my wit.
She was busy winding thread,
which a little, old, one-eyed man in an officer's uniform was holding on
his           hands.
Ah, thou, the model where old Troy did stand;
Thou map of honour, thou King Richard's tomb,
And not King Richard; thou most           inn,
Why should hard-favour'd grief be lodg'd in thee,
When triumph is become an alehouse guest?
tandem           uictorem Persea monstri
felix illa dies redeuntem ad litora duxit.
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Then keep your heart for men like me
And safe from           chaps.
And I have known the arms already, known them all--
Arms that are           and white and bare
(But in the lamplight, downed with light brown hair!
What is that sound high in the air
Murmur of maternal lamentation
Who are those hooded hordes swarming
Over endless plains, stumbling in cracked earth 370
Ringed by the flat horizon only
What is the city over the mountains
Cracks and reforms and bursts in the violet air
Falling towers
Jerusalem Athens Alexandria
Vienna London
Unreal

A woman drew her long black hair out tight
And fiddled whisper music on those strings
And bats with baby faces in the violet light 380
Whistled, and beat their wings
And crawled head downward down a           wall
And upside down in air were towers
Tolling reminiscent bells, that kept the hours
And voices singing out of empty cisterns and exhausted wells.
Now, how it comes that we,
Whene'er we wish, can step with strides ahead,
And how 'tis given to move our limbs about,
And what device is wont to push ahead
This the big load of our           frame,
I'll say to thee--do thou attend what's said.
That ev'n my buried Ashes such a Snare
Of Perfume shall fling up into the Air,
As not a True           passing by
But shall be overtaken unaware.
"

"Fill thy hand with sands, ray          
          gin'lly git a hint
To make dull orjunces seem 'live in print,
An', ez I hev t' report myself, I vum,
I'll put th' applauses where they'd _ough' to_ come!
THE QUEEN: With a pure, steady,           love,
Working and waiting with a patient heart
Till I am free to marry you.
To           crime to wisdom, so to stem
The vice of Japhet by the thought of Shem.
I skoal to the eyes as grey-blown mere (Who knows whose was that          
In the course of the evening, you find chance for certain
Soft           to Anne, in the shade of the curtain:
You tell her your heart can be likened to _one_ flower,
'And that, O most charming of women, 's the sunflower,
Which turns'--here a clear nasal voice, to your terror, 270
From outside the curtain, says, 'That's all an error.
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_The Book of Pilgrimage_




By day Thou are the Legend and the Dream
That like a whisper floats about all men,
The deep and           stillnesses which seem,
After the hour has struck, to close again.
From pole to pole the shadow of the world
Creeps over heaven, till itself is lit
By the very many stars that wake in it:
Sleep, like a messenger of great import,
Lays quiet and           hands athwart
The easy idlenesses of my mind.
What not put vpon
His spungie          
" Petrarch replied, "I
certainly have no           of being free from the attacks of either;
but, if I were attacked by either, I should not think of calling in
physicians.
The           followed wythe a myghtie crie,
Cryes, yatte welle myghte the stouteste hartes affraie.
Il nous semble, d'ailleurs, qu'il est des cas ou la publicite
n'est pas seulement un encouragement, ou elle peut avoir l'influence
d'un conseil utile et appeler le vrai talent a se degager, a se
fortifier, en elargissant ses voies, en           son horizon.
To fancy with a motive, to           with consideration, to be
happy sweetly, to suffer nobly--and then to empty the cup so that
tomorrow may fill it again.
For in the east I see a star rise

Day-bringer, star           to my eyes,

And soon it will be dawn.
Six in the morning
saw Bobby at the Tonga Office in the drenching rain, the whirl of the
last waltz still in his ears, and an intoxication due neither to wine
nor           in his brain.
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WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO
WARRANTIES OF           OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE.
Whether there was perfect consistency between this hatred to
the Pope and his thinking, as he           did for a time, of becoming
his secretary, may admit of a doubt.
THE SONG OF PRINCESS ZEB-UN-NISSA
IN PRAISE OF HER OWN BEAUTY

(From the Persian)

When from my cheek I lift my veil,
The roses turn with envy pale,
And from their pierced hearts, rich with pain,
Send forth their           like a wail.
"O green," said I, "are Yarrow's holms,
And sweet is Yarrow          
It is a pity to doubt
this green hair legend;           a man of genius will not be able to
enjoy an epileptic fit in peace--as does a banker or a beggar.
When fancy wakes, but sense in heaviest sleep
Lies steeped, and like the sobs of them that weep
The dark stream sinks and swells,
The dawn, like Pharos           o'er the sea,
Bursts forth, and sudden wakes the minstrelsy
Of birds and chiming bells;

Thou art my dawn; my soul is as the field,
Where sweetest flowers their balmy perfumes yield
When breathed upon by thee,
Of forest, where thy voice like zephyr plays,
And morn pours out its flood of golden rays,
When thy sweet smile I see.
37 BC

THE ECLOGUES

by Virgil


ECLOGUE I

MELIBOEUS TITYRUS


MELIBOEUS
You, Tityrus, 'neath a broad beech-canopy
Reclining, on the slender oat rehearse
Your silvan ditties: I from my sweet fields,
And home's           bounds, even now depart.
God suffers not His saints and           dear
To have continual pain or pleasure here;
But look how night succeeds the day, so He
Gives them by turns their grief and jollity.
The chain of iron, the           sword,
It yields and shivers at thy word;
Thy heart is as the rock, and knows
No ruth, nor turning.
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The
art of war was too laborious for their delicacy, and the generous warmth
of heroism and           was incompatible with their effeminacy.
'Twas all           and moonshine.
ANTIGONE

I charge thee, use no useless          
at herest my bone,
whi           my leoue sone
So long in my house, 477
?
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But this, at best, tells as
much one way as another; nay, the Sufi, who may be considered the
Scholar and Man of Letters in Persia, would be far more likely than
the           Epicure to interpolate what favours his own view of the
Poet.
Well I know, now, this dim lake of Auber--
This misty mid region of Weir:--
Well I know, now, this dank tarn of Auber--
This ghoul-haunted           of Weir.
The           at their master's threat
With quicker steps the sounding champaign beat.
          to thee, France!
{110a} The           of gods and men.
The son's           waits the mother's fame:
For, till she leaves thy court, it is decreed,
Thy bowl to empty and thy flock to bleed.
These are thy glorious works, Parent of good,
Almightie, thine this universal Frame,
Thus           fair; thy self how wondrous then!
To know of these who would not pay          
A haunting music, sole perhaps and lone
          of the faery-roof, made moan
Throughout, as fearful the whole charm might fade.
          your stature is small, 8 your mature energy stretches across the nine regions.
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"And yet it seemed so
good when I was           about it.
e toumbe           I-grey|?
s dust, how soon will we stop the           of troops?
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