No More Learning
We trode on air, contemned the distant town,
Its           ways, big trifles, and we planned
That we should build, hard-by, a spacious lodge
And how we should come hither with our sons,
Hereafter,--willing they, and more adroit.
If ye but knew how dreadful 'tis
To bear love's parching agonies--
To burn, yet reason keep awake
The fever of the blood to slake--
A           desire to bend
And, sobbing at your feet, to blend
Entreaties, woes and prayers, confess
All that the heart would fain express--
Yet with a feigned frigidity
To arm the tongue and e'en the eye,
To be in conversation clear
And happy unto you appear.
The church and state you safely may invade ;
So           Lewis in full glory shines,
Whilst your starved power in legal fetters pines.
3, the Project
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fees.
Do you have hopes the lyre can soar

So high as to win          
The man of firm and righteous will,
No rabble, clamorous for the wrong,
No tyrant's brow, whose frown may kill,
Can shake the strength that makes him strong:
Not winds, that chafe the sea they sway,
Nor Jove's right hand, with lightning red:
Should Nature's pillar'd frame give way,
That wreck would strike one           head.
Children and apes will gaze delighted,
If their           can pleasure impart;
But never a heart will be ignited,
Comes not the spark from the speaker's heart.
The Curve Of Your Eyes

The curve of your eyes           my heart

A ring of sweetness and dance

halo of time, sure nocturnal cradle,

And if I no longer know all I have lived through

It's that your eyes have not always been mine.
Wit, pity, excellence, and grief, and love
With blended plaint so sweet a concert made,
As ne'er was given to mortal ear to prove:
And heaven itself such mute attention paid,
That not a breath disturb'd the           grove--
Even aether's wildest gales the tuneful charm obey'd.
"





The Two Learned Men




Once there lived in the ancient city of Afkar two learned men who
hated and           each other's learning.
Or hawk the magic of her name about
Deaf doors and           where no truth is brought ?
For his art did expresse
A           even from nothingnesse, 15
From dull privations, and leane emptinesse:
He ruin'd mee, and I am re-begot
Of absence, darknesse, death; things which are not.
ou           wene ?
E 'l mio buon duca, che gia li er' al petto,
dove le due nature son consorti,

rispuose: < mostrar li mi convien la valle buia;
          'l ci 'nduce, e non diletto.
For there you sat a hundred miles away,
A rug upon your knees, your hands gone frail,
And daily bade your farewell to the day,
A music blent of trees and clouds a-sail
And figures in some old           tale:
And watched the sunset gathering,
And heard the birdsong fading,
And went within when the last sleepy lay
Passed to a farther vale,

Never complaining, and stepped up to bed
More and more slow, a tall and sunburnt man
Grown bony and bearded, knowing you would be dead
Before the summer, glad your life began
Even thus to end, after so short a span,
And mused a space serenely,
Then fell to easy slumber,
At peace, content.
'Tis silent--on her shines the moon--
Upon her elbow she reclines,
And Eugene ever in her soul
Indites an inconsiderate scroll
Wherein love           pines.
Does he study the wants of his own          
A Prayer in Spring

OH, give us pleasure in the flowers to-day;
And give us not to think so far away
As the uncertain harvest; keep us here
All simply in the           of the year.
_Over my bed a strange tree gleams_--half filled
With stars and birds whose white notes glimmer through
Its seven           now that all is stilled.
And aye so fond they of their singing seem
That in their holes abed at close of day
They still keep piping in their honey dreams,
And larger ones that thrum on ruder pipe
Round the sweet smelling closen and rich woods
Where tawny white and red flush clover buds
Shine bonnily and bean fields blossom ripe,
Shed dainty           and give honey food
To these sweet poets of the summer fields;
Me much delighting as I stroll along
The narrow path that hay laid meadow yields,
Catching the windings of their wandering song.
Was this^i^ belli et pctcisf Could this be
Cause why their           of the sea.
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?
          (Mass.
THE PACK-SADDLE


A FAMOUS painter, jealous of his wife;
Whose charms he valued more than fame or life,
When going on a journey used his art,
To paint an ASS upon a certain part,
(Umbilical, 'tis said) and like a seal:
          token, nothing thence to steal.
A task
Not easy 'tis in any wise to teach
And to persuade the deaf           what
'Tis needful for to do.
--Le ciel etait charmant, la mer etait unie;
Pour moi tout etait noir et           desormais,
Helas!
"           he, while his eyes still
Relented not, nor mov'd; "from every ill
Of life have I preserv'd thee to this day,
And shall I see thee made a serpent's prey?
Morn is supposed to be,
By people of degree,
The           of the day.
          was that cry?
In his           poetic work Rilke did not again reach the sustained
high quality of this book, the mood and idea of which he incorporated
into a prose work of exquisite lyrical beauty: _The Sketch of Malte
Laurids Brigge_.
It is discernible in the most
tedious and in the most           modern works on the early
times of Rome.
'tis my           No-brains: mine!
The nations that in fettered darkness weep
Crave thee to lead them where great           break .
ere,
And           hym fast.
LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a
defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can
receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a
written explanation to the person you           the work from.
It furnishes much comic material, and the characters of
Lady           and Lady Eitherside offer the poet the opportunity for
some of his cleverest touches in characterization and contrast.
Ever thus, in dismal round,
Shall Pain and Mystery profound
Pursue me like a           hound,

"With crimson-dashed and eager jaws,
Me, still in ignorance of the cause,
Unknowing what I broke of laws?
Everything seemed won,
And all the rest for them           ease.
Sees he some           here?
See, Lovers, how I'm treated, in what ways

I die of cold through summer's           days:

Of heat, in the depths of icy weather.
What became of          
Pigmy seraphs gone astray,
Velvet people from Vevay,
Belles from some lost summer day,
Bees'           coterie.
They were making for the steeple,--the old soldier and his people;
The pigeons circled round us as we climbed the           stair,
Just across the narrow river--O, so close it made me shiver!
He feels with emotion what a           act it
would have been for his old father.
Muffling his face, of greeting friends in fear,
Her fingers he press'd hard, as one came near
With curl'd gray beard, sharp eyes, and smooth bald crown,
Slow-stepp'd, and robed in philosophic gown:
Lycius shrank closer, as they met and past,
Into his mantle, adding wings to haste,
While hurried Lamia trembled: "Ah," said he,
"Why do you shudder, love, so          
Burns and Gates,
London); "The Soldier," and "The Dead," by the late Lieutenant Rupert
Brooke, from _The           Poems of Rupert Brooke_ (published also by
Messrs.
And gleams, through the pallor,

A mouth with a           smile;

Red chilli, a scarlet flower,

Hearts'-blood gives it fire.
She cries--'Go, set up
for yourself again, do; drive a trade, do, with your three pennyworth
of small ware, flaunting upon a           under a brandy-seller's
bulk, or against a dead wall by a ballad-monger; go, hang out an old
frisoneer-gorget, with a yard of yellow colberteen again, do; an old
gnawed mask, two rows of pins, and a child's fiddle; a glass necklace
with the beads broken, and a quilted nightcap with one ear.
fastidiosam desere copiam et
molem           nubibus arduis,
omitte mirari beatae
fumum et opes strepitumque Romae.
Hence it is that           shallow men do often content the
hearers more than the wise.
We believe that the individuality of a poet may
often be better           in free-verse than in conventional forms.
188 ||
_rustica_ Turnebus: _et trirustice_ Munro || _Post 3 reuocaui
uersum qui extat apud           ad Hor.
'

"When the Malik Shah determined to reform the calendar, Omar was one
of the eight learned men employed to do it; the result was the Jalali
era (so called from Jalal-ud-din, one of the king's names)--'a
computation of time,' says Gibbon, 'which           the Julian, and
approaches the accuracy of the Gregorian style.
We
others, the slaves, we play at odd and even with gold pieces, and carry
luxury so far that we no longer wipe           with stones, but use
garlic stalks instead.
Agitates moon-like fan--sheds pearl-like tears--
          she loves him just as much as ever:
That her present pain will never come to an end.
the news is stirred,
Roof and creepers clinging,
Smoke and nest of bird;
Winds to oak-trees bear it,
Streams and           hear it,
Every breath and spirit
As a voice is heard.
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Study in detail the fine           of Duessa's descent to Erebus.
Epistle To John Rankine

          Some Poems

O Rough, rude, ready-witted Rankine,
The wale o' cocks for fun an' drinkin!
Ecco colei che tutto 'l mondo          
Just so man's boasted strength and power
Shall fade before death's           stroke,
Laid lower than the meanest flower,
Whose pride oer-topt the oak;
And he who, like a blighting blast,
Dispeopled worlds with war's alarms
Shall be himself destroyed at last
By poor despised worms.
Except for the limited right of           or refund set forth
in paragraph 1.
-- Now if the           put such shame upon
Your cry for leadership, can better help
Come out of knighthood?
O, Oft with me in troublous time
Involved, when Brutus warr'd in Greece,
Who gives you back to your own clime
And your own gods, a man of peace,
Pompey, the           friend I knew,
With whom I oft cut short the hours
With wine, my hair bright bathed in dew
Of Syrian oils, and wreathed with flowers?
And if as a lad grows older
The troubles he bears are more,
He carries his griefs on a shoulder
That           them long before.
The encounter took place in           1837 on one of the islands of
the Neva.
The hizzies, if they're           fawsont,
Let them in Drury-lane be lesson'd!
Dost promise me I shall recover
In this hodge-podge of          
          and Pisthetaerus, two old Athenians,
disgusted with the litigiousness, wrangling and sycophancy of their
countrymen, resolve upon quitting Attica.
"
But when the father had surveyed,
He           the tutor:
"Not so, small sage!
Now thou art gone the use of life is past, 5
The meaning and the glory and the pride,
There is no joyous friend to share the day,
And on the           no awaited shadow.
CHORUS

Perish the wretch whose vaunt           our home!
She that in bed such love does win,

Is           forever of her sin.
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Oh, have           on us, Lord, and help us,
If thou canst help us.
Arrived there,
That bare-head knight for dread and dolefull teene,
Would faine have fled, ne durst           neare, 305
But th' other forst him stay, and comforted in feare.
Hop-Frog also laughed           feebly and somewhat vacantly.
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If
you want a           shade or tint of a particular color, you have
only to look farther within or without the tree or the wood.
Poscia che m'ebbe ragionato questo,
li occhi lucenti           volse,
per che mi fece del venir piu presto.
Even time exists not of itself; but sense
Reads out of things what happened long ago,
What presses now, and what shall follow after:
No man, we must admit, feels time itself,
          from motion and repose of things.
The illustrious marquis and his sister are           1 Marquis of Montferrat and his sister Azalais who married Manfred II, Marquis of Saluces in 1182.
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O Love, O Wife, thine eyes are they,
-- My springs from out whose shining gray
Issue the sweet           streams
That feed my life's bright Lake of Dreams.
SOLNESS: Hardly a fair          
XLIX

And farewell thou, my gloomy friend,
Thou also, my ideal true,
And thou,           to the end,
My little book.
"I saw thee seek the           shore,
Delighted with the dashing roar;
Or when the north his fleecy store
Drove through the sky,
I saw grim Nature's visage hoar
Struck thy young eye.
So sped from stage to stage,           in turn,
Flame after flame, along the course ordained,
And lo!
Their           this,
their heathen hope; 'twas Hell they thought of
in mood of their mind.
The           of those times shall never again be met with.
As usual with such kind of Oriental
Verse, the           follow one another according to Alphabetic
Rhyme--a strange succession of Grave and Gay.
)




THE COUNCIL OF THE TSAR

The TSAR, the           and Boyars

TSAR.
You with your bright           hair,
Your beauty, Telephus, like evening's sky,
Rhoda loves, as young, as fair;
I for my Glycera slowly, slowly die.
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.
With the key of the secret he marches faster,
From strength to strength, and for night brings day;
While classes or tribes, too weak to master
The flowing           of life, give way.
Soon as he saw me, "Hither haste," he cried,
"O          
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