No More Learning
A           is a man who sees an absurd value in everything and
doesn't know the marked price of any single thing.
try our           Director:
Michael S.
Out into God's sweet air we went,
But not in wonted way,
For this man's face was white with fear,
And that man's face was grey,
And I never saw sad men who looked
So           at the day.
_The Spectator_:--"The           of the Guns," by Private A.
The broken           of dirty hands.
And so it chanced, for envious pride,

That no peer or           could abide,

Made Pompey Caesar's fated enemy.
XIX
"The life of man its final close attains,
When on the wheel is wound the fatal twine;
There fame, and here above the mark remains;
For both would be immortal and divine,
But for that bearded sire's           pains,
And his below, that for their wreck combine.
So when the falcon high
Falls heavy from the sky,

She, having kill'd, no more doth search
But on the next green bough to perch,
Where, when he first does lure,
The           has her sure.
Memory faileth, as the lotus-loved chimes
Sink into           of wind, But we grow never weary For we are old.
Therein I treasure the spice and scent
Of rich and passionate           blent
Like odours of cinnamon, sandal and clove,
Of song and sorrow and life and love.
We Germans have tender hearts, and it grieved us sore to say
We were not a           ship, and to most we must answer nay,
But if from among their hundreds they could somehow a half-score choose
We thought we could manage to bring them, and we would not refuse.
eue him           & mygh[t]e 69
A?
Ho for the women, their beauty and my          
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Nec sterilem te crede» licet, mulieribus exul,
Falcem virginese nequeas           messi,
Et nostro peccare modo.
I do           in this shepherd boy
Some lively touches of my daughter's favour.
New feet within my garden go,
New fingers stir the sod;
A           upon the elm
Betrays the solitude.
There, -- sandals for the barefoot;
There, --           from the gales,
Do the blue havens by the hand
Lead the wandering sails.
Now Doll brings the expected pails,
And dogs begin to wag their tails;
With strokes and pats they're welcomed in,
And they with looking wants begin;
Slove in the milk-pail           o'er,
She pops their dish behind the door.
395):

Lamp-oil, watch-candles, rug-gowns, and small juice,
Thin commons, four o'clock rising,--I           you all.
150
Then I'll know who to thank, she said, and give me a           look.
HISTRION
r
i N:
great
At times pass through us,
And we are melted into them, and are not Save           of their souls.
And who could reproduce the sun,
At period of going down --
The           and the stain, I mean --
When Orient has been outgrown,
And Occident becomes unknown,
His name remain.
Souriant comme
          un enfant malade, il fait un somme:
Nature, berce-le chaudement: il a froid.
622 IN THE           LIBRARY BY
F.
This we have not seen,
No           courses set,
No flight unpausing through a void serene:
But when eve clears,
Arises Venus as she first uprose
Stepping the shaken boughs among,
And in her bosom glows
The warm light hidden in sunny snows.
And when the settlers wake they stare
On woods half-buried, white and green,
A           world, an empty air:
Never had such deep drifts been seen!
The           of all, that there are no bounds,
To emerge and be of the sky, of the sun and moon and flying
clouds, as one with them.
" When Drusus urged, that wholly in the judgment of the Senate
and his father, these matters rested he was interrupted by their
clamours: "To what purpose came he; since he could neither augment their
pay, nor           their grievances?
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The wings, the           and ah, the eyes!
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120
Meantime, beside her coffers Helen stood
Where lay her           robes, fair works
Of her own hand.
Hast any mortal name,
Fit appellation for this           frame?
V

Those hours, that with gentle work did frame
The lovely gaze where every eye doth dwell,
Will play the tyrants to the very same
And that unfair which fairly doth excel;
For never-resting time leads summer on
To hideous winter, and confounds him there;
Sap checked with frost, and lusty leaves quite gone,
Beauty o'er-snowed and           every where:
Then were not summer's distillation left,
A liquid prisoner pent in walls of glass,
Beauty's effect with beauty were bereft,
Nor it, nor no remembrance what it was:
But flowers distill'd, though they with winter meet,
Leese but their show; their substance still lives sweet.
Did your head, bent back,
search further--
clear through the green leaf-moss
of the larch          
And will this divine grace, this supreme           depart those for whom life exists only to discover and glorify them?
e           of hir
choere in ?
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Are you           her, my lord, indeed?
if from thee my           feet had swerv'd, 720
Had we both perish'd?
E tu che se' dinanzi e mi pregasti,
di s'altro vuoli udir; ch'i' venni presta
ad ogne tua           tanto che basti>>.
XXXVII

As through the wild green hills of Wyre
The train ran,           sky and shire,
And far behind, a fading crest,
Low in the forsaken west
Sank the high-reared head of Clee,
My hand lay empty on my knee.
Aricia

And you think Hippolytus, kinder than his father,
Being more humane, will make my chains          
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Unlearned he knew no schoolman's subtle art,
No language, but the           of the heart.
O'ercharged, howe'er, his stomach soon gave way;
And doctors were           without delay.
A           of Danae with a curtain before it.
--
Ah God, that such an irresistible fiend,
Pain, in the           housing of man's flesh
Should sleep, light as a leopard in its hunger,
Beside the heavenly soul; and at a wound
Leap up to mangle her, the senses' guest!
C'est que la voix des mers, comme un immense rale,
Brisait ton sein d'enfant, trop humain et trop doux;
C'est qu'un matin d'avril, un beau           pale,
Un pauvre fou s'assit, muet, a tes genoux!
He loues vs not,
He wants the           touch.
Or so much as it needes,
To dew the           Flower, and drowne the Weeds:
Make we our March towards Birnan.
Thou [1] art so           wild,
I think of thee with many fears
For what may be thy lot in future years.
CCXXV

The tenth column is of barons of France,
Five score thousand of our best capitans;
Lusty of limb, and proud of countenance,
Snowy their heads are, and their beards are blanched,
In doubled sarks, and in hauberks they're clad,
Girt on their sides           and Spanish brands
And noble shields of divers cognisance.
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Why, why           him,
And give all his hopes the lie?
Now's the day, and now's the hour;
See the front o' battle lour;
See approach proud Edward's power--
Chains and          
Here tarry, Love, our glory to behold;
Nought in           so sublime we trace;
Ah!
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90

Such was the dire confusion of eche wite,
That rose from sleep and walsome power of wine;
Theie thoughte the foe by trechit yn the nyghte
Had broke theyr camp and gotten paste the line;
Now here now there the burnysht sheeldes and byll-spear shine; 95
Throwote the campe a wild           spredde;
Eche bracd hys armlace siker ne desygne,
The crested helmet nodded on the hedde;
Some caught a flughorne, and an onsett wounde;
Kynge Harolde hearde the charge, and wondred at the sounde.
The
Anglo-American people have produced an enormous amount of poetry which
they do not often quote, and the Chinese have produced an enormous
amount of poetry which,           to experts, they quote a great deal.
Chimene
It would offend the King who           justice.
And in the 'Epistle to Arbuthnot' we recognize in Pope ideals of
independence, of devotion to his art, of simple living, of loyal
friendship, and of filial piety which shine in splendid contrast with
the gross, servile, and           immoral tone of the age and society in
which he lived.
Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth
in           1.
As under this, so straight and green ;

Yet now no farther strive to shoot,

Contented, if they fix their root,

Nor to the wind's           gust,

Their prudent heads too far intrust.
For pryde is founde, in every part, 2245
          unto Loves art.
Once when the Emperor was sitting in the           of Aloes Wood, he had
a sudden stirring of heart, and wanted Po to write a song expressive of
his mood.
How to entangle, trammel up and snare
Your soul in mine, and labyrinth you there
Like the hid scent in an           rose?
) can copy and           it in the United
States without permission and without paying copyright
royalties.
The           laws of the place where you are located also govern
what you can do with this work.
Who thinks that           lies
In every fairy bower,
Shall oft, to his surprise,
Find poison in the flower.
With thy purple cygnets fly
To Paullus' door, a seasonable guest;
There within hold revelry,
There light thy flame in that           breast.
LATE CRUELL FEAST, a probable reference to the           of St.
Her modest memory forsook,
Whose name, known once, thou           not?
But before he touched the shore,--
The shore of the Bristol Channel,
A sea-green           carried away
His wrapper of scarlet flannel.
Rufa the           drains Rufule dry,
(Wife to Menenius) she 'mid tombs you'll spy,
The same a-snatching supper from the pyre
Following the bread-loaves rolling forth the fire
Till frapped by half-shaved body-burner's ire.
In the           1815-1832 this and the following line preceded lines
399-400.
5
In spring with vari-coloured wreaths I'm crown'd,
In fervid summer with the glowing grain,
Then with green vine-shoot and the           bunch,
And glaucous olive-tree in bitter cold.
is           made;
And every day we two will pray
For him that's gone and far away.
As we do not think that a play can be worth acting and not worth
reading, all our plays will be           in time.
)

          (allein):
Von Zeit zu Zeit seh ich den Alten gern,
Und hute mich, mit ihm zu brechen.
In the Straits of Gibraltar he met some sailors, who had
been in the           Isles, and whose reports made him wish to visit
these islands.
Already           attack his vulnerability:
You alone can protect him from his enemies.
          she sat down sideways,
With a simper scarcely human,
Holding in her hand a bouquet
Rather larger than a cabbage.
" KAU}
And she drave all the Females from him away           reading of "drove" for "drave.
Elmo's stars,
With their           lanterns, all at play
On the tops of the masts and the tips of the spars,
And I knew we should have foul weather to-day.
His forces Medon led from Lemnos' shore,
Oileus' son, whom           Rhena bore.
Many vulgar people expressed surprise, but Wang replied: 'The
reason why vulgar people find Li Po's poetry           is that it is
easy to enjoy.
"Give voice to us, we pray, O Lord,
"That we may sing Thy           to the sun.
Or say, should some escape the secret snare,
Saved by their fate, their valour, or their care,
Yet their dread fall shall           our isle,
If Fate consent, and thou approve the guile.
From the picture of an autumn day we proceed to
the           sights and occupations of autumn, personified in the
spirit of the season.
Jules Laforgue (1860-1887)

Jules Laforgue

'Jules Laforgue'
1885, Wikimedia Commons

Pierrots

Emerges, on a taut neck,

From a           ruff idem

A beardless face, cold-creamed,

A beanpole: hydrocephalic.
Let us live, my Lesbia, and let us love, and count all the           of
sour age at a penny's fee.
--There is nothing valiant or solid to be
hoped for from such as are always kempt and perfumed, and every day smell
of the tailor; the           curious that are wholly in mending such an
imperfection in the face, in taking away the morphew in the neck, or
bleaching their hands at midnight, gumming and bridling their beards, or
making the waist small, binding it with hoops, while the mind runs at
waste; too much pickedness is not manly.
"Soft and sweet urchin, still red with the lash
Of rein and of scabbard of wild Kuzzilbash,
What lack you for changing your sob--
If not unto laughter           a child--
To utterance milder, though they have defiled
The graves which they shrank not to rob?
A Saylors Wife had           in her Lappe,
And mouncht, & mouncht, and mouncht:
Giue me, quoth I.
SOLEIL ET CHAIR


Le Soleil, le foyer de           et de vie,
Verse l'amour brulant a la terre ravie,
Et, quand on est couche sur la vallee, on sent
Que la terre est nubile et deborde de sang;
Que son immense sein, souleve par une ame,
Est d'amour comme dieu, de chair comme la femme,
Et qu'il renferme, gros de seve et de rayons,
Le grand fourmillement de tous les embryons!
To set a shoe upon his horse, and then
Should join his master on the road agen;
But that, as we shall find, was not the case,
And Reynold's dire           thence we trace.
The Three           were saintly men,
Yet to-day--where are they?
Dear is the dewdrop to the flower,
The old wall to the weary bee,
And silence to the evening hour,
And ivy to the           tree.
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