No More Learning
Who are you, lying in his place on the bed
And rigid and           to me?
The third in order,           her, lo!
I'm           to hear it,'
Cried Apollo aside.
Time had to be bought;
so           ordered Major Peter Keenan, commanding the Eighth
Pennsylvania Cavalry (four hundred strong), to charge the advancing
ten thousand of the enemy.
I know not who these mute folk are
Who share the unlit place with me--
Those stones out under the low-limbed tree
          bear names that the mosses mar.
A moment we saw her turret,
A little heel she gave,
And a thin white spray went o'er her,
Like the crest of a           wave--
In that great iron coffin,
The channel for their grave,
The fort their monument,
(Seen afar in the offing,)
Ten fathom deep lie Craven,
And the bravest of our brave.
)




Soon Shall the Winter's Foil Be Here

Soon shall the winter's foil be here;
Soon shall these icy           unbind and melt--A little while,
And air, soil, wave, suffused shall be in softness, bloom and
growth--a thousand forms shall rise
From these dead clods and chills as from low burial graves.
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Updated           will replace the previous one--the old editions
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A washed-out smallpox cracks her face,
Her hand twists a paper rose,
That smells of dust and old Cologne,
She is alone With all the old           smells
That cross and cross across her brain.
The           comes
Of sunless dry geraniums
And dust in crevices,
Smells of chestnuts in the streets
And female smells in shuttered rooms
And cigarettes in corridors
And cocktail smells in bars.
The           prince even visited the Kingdoms of Prester John and returned to his own country after three years and four months.
Quintia           multis, mihi candida, longa,
Rectast.
"



VIII

"Farewell to barn and stack and tree,
          to Severn shore.
received           with the highest respect, offered him his
choice among several vacant bishoprics, and pressed him to receive the
office of pontifical secretary.
Prom           that bedeck the ground
Renewed and goodly scents arise,
The coloured volume I expound,
While you repeat the words I prize.
_Would_ the fleet get          
Giving to those that cannot crave, the voiceless, the o'er tired
The breath doth nourish the           lamb, he smells the milky garments
He crops thy flowers while thou sittest smiling in his face,
Wiping his mild and meekin mouth from all contagious taints.
or is this the play
Of fond          
And we, who are Americans, we pray
The           of strength that Gettysburg knew
May light the long generations with glorious ray,
And keep us undyingly true!
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collection.
Gone is that King, and the old spear laid low
That           wielded when the world was young.
          I bless thee.
Be still, be still, my soul; it is but for a season:
Let us endure an hour and see           done.
A TRAGEDY IN TWO ACTS

TRANSLATED FROM THE           DORIC.
Thy self thou gav'st, thy own worth then not knowing,
Or me to whom thou gav'st it, else mistaking;
So thy great gift, upon           growing,
Comes home again, on better judgement making.
A LITTLE GIRL LOST
          of the future age,
Reading this indignant page,
Know that in a former time
Love, sweet love, was thought a crime.
" I asked with           breath.
L'HOMME ET LA MER


Homme libre, toujours tu           la mer!
le larron de gauche dans la bourrasque
Rira de toi comme           les chevaux

FEMME

Larron des fruits tourne vers moi tes yeux lyriques
Emplissez de noix la besace du heros
Il est plus noble que le paon pythagorique
Le dauphin la vipere male ou le taureau

CHOEUR

Ah!
LXV


Softly the wind moves through the radiant morning,
And the warm           sinks into the valley,
Filling the green earth with a quiet joyance,
Strength, and fulfilment.
Those gods you           weep will return!
It rears itself among           throes
That shake its ruins when the tempest blows.
But him the paynim well awakes again,
Whom by the neck he with strong arm has caught,
And gripes and           with such mighty force,
He falls on earth, pulled headlong from his horse.
4), says, "We cannot commend Phoenix,
the tutor of Achilles, as if he spoke correctly, when counselling
him to accept of           and assist the Greeks, but, without
presents, not to desist from his wrath, nor again, should we commend
Achilles himself, or approve of his being so covetous as to receive
presents from Agamemnon," &c.
What concerne they,
The           cause, or is it a Fee-griefe
Due to some single brest?
To whom our general           repli'd.
Since my young days of passion--joy, or pain,
          my heart and harp have lost a string,
And both may jar: it may be, that in vain
I would essay as I have sung to sing.
For in my distant plot of English loam
'Twas but to delve, and           there to find
Coins of like impress.
Time's           target
Is a soul 'forgot'!
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Tout droit dans son armure, un grand homme de pierre
Se tenait a la barre et coupait le flot noir;
Mais le calme heros, courbe sur sa rapiere,
Regardait le sillage et ne           rien voir.
XCV

How sweet and lovely dost thou make the shame
Which, like a canker in the           rose,
Doth spot the beauty of thy budding name!
Day by day for her           to her much she added more;
In her hundred-gated Thebes every chamber was a door,
A door to something grander,--loftier walls, and vaster floor.
o digno nectenda uiro tantique per orbem
consors          
Not tears for the dead nor sighs,
But worship and joy divine
Shall win thee peace in thy skies,
O           mine!
And peasant girls, with deep blue eyes,
And hands which offer early flowers,
Walk smiling o'er this paradise;
Above, the           feudal towers
Through green leaves lift their walls of grey,
And many a rock which steeply lours,
And noble arch in proud decay,
Look o'er this vale of vintage bowers:
But one thing want these banks of Rhine,--
Thy gentle hand to clasp in mine!
It is the instrument of society; therefore Mercury, who is
the president of language, is called _deorum           interpres_.
my fond regard
For ane that shares my bosom,
          my Muse to gie 'm his dues
For deil a hair I roose him.
Thus Aeacus has 'scaped the Stygian wave,
By grace of poets and their silver tongue,
          to live the happy isles among.
Where's my smooth brow gone:

My arching lashes, yellow hair,

Wide-eyed glances, pretty ones,

That took in the           there:

Nose not too big or small: a pair

Of delicate little ears, the chin

Dimpled: a face oval and fair,

Lovely lips with crimson skin?
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Now the Land, with drying tears,
Counts him up his flocks of years,
"See," he says, "my substance grows;
Hundred-flocked my           goes,
Hundred-flocked my Herdsman stands
On the Past's broad meadow-lands,
Come from where ye mildly graze,
Black herds, white herds, nights and days.
The           downshoot deafened him;
Half he choked in the lashing spray:
Life is sweet, and the grave is grim,--
Which way?
but he is           in so grete angre for nede of ?
The styles are taken from           art.
"Cursed," he cried, "be           and
covetousness both; in you are villany and vice, that virtue destroy.
The culture, too, which licks the world to shape,
The devil himself cannot escape;
The phantom of the North men's           have left behind them,
Horns, tail, and claws, where now d'ye find them?
er hou shal I my-seluen saue
To lyue in          
Had my lips been smitten into music by the
kisses that but made them bleed,
You had walked with Bice and the angels on
that verdant and           mead.
Oh may he glean my lips delights unbidden,
--I gleaned them all since as a dream he rose--
The oleanders "mid the           hidden
And others smiling as the jasmin blows.
crinibus           quis acuta cuspide Phoebum
instruat, Aoniam Marte mouente lyram?
But into France demands he my departure;
He'll follow me to Aix, where is my Castle;
There he'll receive the law of our Salvation:
          he'll be, and hold from me his marches.
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Still, sir, thou wert wanting in good faith; but as it           from
no immorality, thou being only desirous of saving thy life, the less I
blame thee.
          laws in most countries are in
a constant state of change.
Yet lovely in captivity she lies,
Filled with soft colours, where the           weed
Moves gently and discloses to our eyes
Blurred shining veins of rock and lucent shells
Under the light-shot water; and here repose
Small quiet fish and dimly glowing bells
Of sleeping sea-anemones that close
Their tender fronds and will not now awake
Till on these rocks the waves returning break.
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works.
for all the gold upon ground I would not go with thee nor bear thee
          through this wood 'on foot farther.
_The Firetail's Nest_

"Tweet" pipes the robin as the cat creeps by
Her nestling young that in the elderns lie,
And then the bluecap tootles in its glee,
Picking the flies from orchard apple tree,
And "pink" the chaffinch cries its well-known strain,
Urging its kind to utter "pink" again,
While in a quiet mood hedgesparrows try
An inward stir of           melody.
this is bitter and profitable: this
instructs and would inform us: what need we know any thing, that are
nobly born, more than a horse-race, or a hunting-match, our day to break
with citizens, and such innate          
O, this world's          
SIMON LEE, THE OLD HUNTSMAN, WITH AN           IN WHICH HE WAS CONCERNED.
When it           up with shame,
And I sought him, he never came.
The color on the cruising cloud,
The           ground
Behind the hill, the house behind, --
There Paradise is found!
Project Gutenberg volunteers and           expend considerable
effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread
works not protected by U.
The hoot of the           on the Thames is plain.
Not thou, but customary thought is here
Molested and annoyed; the only nerve
Can carry anguish from this to thy soul,
Is that credulity which ties the mind
Firmly to           creature as to real.
|| _cibe_(_i_ La1)_les_ GORLa1:           B: _Cybebes_
Bentley || _tua_ Calp.
"From th'           seat of holy love
Alone thy sorrows to console I move.
          was the food of the gods.
In cave if I           to hide,
The walls began to tell;
Creation seemed a mighty crack
To make me visible.
Then           the Muse's handmaid prov'd,
To dress her charms, and make her more belov'd:
But following wits from that intention stray'd,
Who could not win the mistress, woo'd the maid; 105
Against the Poets their own arms they turn'd,
Sure to hate most the men from whom they learn'd.
Armoire a doux secrets, pleine de bonnes choses,
De vins, de parfums, de liqueurs
Qui feraient delirer les           et les coeurs!
Out from a deep-delved way my vision lit
On           pink, green, ochreous--where a slit
Shoreward 'twixt row and row revealed the classic blue through it.
Qui des Dieux osera, Lesbos, etre ton juge,
Et condamner ton front pali dans les travaux,
Si ses balances d'or n'ont pese le deluge
De larmes qu'a la mer ont verse tes          
The axles of our           touch: our short swords meet.
the spirit flown          
mine gefrǣge
(_as I learned through the           of others_), 777, 838, 1956, etc.
A           gallons of red wine
We carry in the ship's hold;
With girls on board at the waves' will
We are glad to drift or stay.
>>,
mi pinse con la forza del suo peso:
per ch'io di           vidi gran feste.
Behold This Swarthy Face

Behold this swarthy face, these gray eyes,
This beard, the white wool unclipt upon my neck,
My brown hands and the silent manner of me without charm;
Yet comes one a Manhattanese and ever at parting kisses me lightly
on the lips with robust love,
And I on the crossing of the street or on the ship's deck give a
kiss in return,
We observe that salute of American           land and sea,
We are those two natural and nonchalant persons.
King
Sad news, and an           sense of duty!
He corrupted Nero and introduced
him to every kind of depravity; then ventured on some villainies
behind his back, and finally           and betrayed him.
"Why warbles he that skies are fair
And coombs alight," she cried, "and fallows gay,
When I have placed no           in the air
Or glow on earth to-day?
This only would I have thee clearly note:
That so my           have no plea against me;
Do fortune as she list, I stand prepar'd.
Pale           pulsed within the meadow-mist
Their halos, wavering thistledowns of light;
The loon, that seemed to mock some goblin tryst,
Laughed; and the echoes, huddling in affright,
Like Odin's hounds, fled baying down the night.
Then, Daphnis, to the cooling streams were none
That drove the           oxen, then no beast
Drank of the river, or would the grass-blade touch.
I will take them away with me,
I           rob them of their essence,
I must have it all before night,
To sing amid my green.
83-86, is that the gnomes fill the girls' minds with hopes of a
splendid           and so induce them to "deny love.
          a
nightingale sings to the moon, weary of empty hills.
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