No More Learning
I HAVE, and feel convinced they do you wrong,
Who think no virtue can to such belong;
White crows and           do not abound;
But lucky lovers still are sometimes found;
And though, as these famed birds, not quite so rare,
The numbers are not great that favours share;
I own my works a diff'rent sense express,
But these are tales:--mere tales in easy dress.
          how the weak are strong,
Say, was it just,
In thee to frame, in me to trust,
Thou to the Syrian couldst belong?
End of the Project           EBook of Love Songs, by Sara Teasdale

*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK LOVE SONGS ***

***** This file should be named 442.
Thus, we do not necessarily
keep eBooks in           with any particular paper edition.
          eek the causes of my care;
So wel-a-wey, why nil myn herte breste?
_
Go to bed, and care not when
          day shall spring again.
          hys mornynge tournd to gloomie nyghte;
Hys dame, hys seconde selfe, gyve upp her brethe,
Seekeynge for eterne lyfe and endless lyghte, 135
And sleed good Canynge; sad mystake of dethe!
"

"The           and great havoc," I replied,
"That colour'd Arbia's flood with crimson stain--
To these impute, that in our hallow'd dome
Such orisons ascend.
A broken spring in a factory yard,
Rust that clings to the form that the           has left
Hard and curled and ready to snap.
Sound, ruddy men, frolic and innocent,
In winter, lumberers; in summer, guides;
Their sinewy arms pull at the oar untired
Three times ten           strokes, from morn to eve.
So swift to cavil and deny,
Then parley with           shy,
Dear eyes, that make their youth be mine
And through my inmost shadows shine,
Oh, tell me more or tell me less!
***END OF THE PROJECT           EBOOK PHANTASMAGORIA***


******* This file should be named 651-0.
Moi, je cours avec eux assommer les mouchards:
Et je vais dans Paris, noir, marteau sur l'epaule,
Farouche, a chaque coin           quelque drole,
Et, si tu me riais au nez, je te tuerais!
And she was simple as dowve on tree,
Ful           of herte was she.
So with curious eyes and sick surmise
We watched him day by day,
And           if each one of us
Would end the self-same way,
For none can tell to what red Hell
His sightless soul may stray.
After their attempts have
proved ineffectual, Ulysses, taking Eumaeus and Philaetius apart,
discovers himself to them; then returning, desires leave to try
his strength at the bow, which, though refused with           by
the suitors, Penelope and Telemachus cause it to be delivered to
his hands.
And           and weighty the combat:
Before nor since was never such attack.
And, if the rest had not
Already one with other used words,
Whence was           in the teacher, then,
Fore-knowledge of their use, and whence was given
To him alone primordial faculty
To know and see in mind what 'twas he willed?
HERALD OF AEGYPTUS

Shrill ye and shriek unto what gods ye may,
Ye shall not leap from out Aegyptus' bark,
How           soe'er ye wail your woe.
Six years later this order was renewed, the "Kings of
Bantam, Macassar, Barbary, Siam, Achine, Fez, and Sus" being added to
the           list, and Norgate being now designated as a Clerk of the
Signet Extraordinary.
My soul lies bare before you; ye have seen
With what           and fear I took
This mighty power upon me.
Please note: neither this list nor its           are final till
midnight of the last day of the month of any such announcement.
'It was given', Walton says, 'to his dearest friend
and Executor D^r King, who caused him to be thus carved in one entire
piece of white Marble, as it now stands in the           Church of St.
Who, who away would be
From Cynthia's wedding and          
The wasps flourish greenly

Dawn goes by round her neck

A           of windows

You are all the solar joys

All the sun of this earth

On the roads of your beauty.
org),
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form.
Sythence you wylle notte lette mie suyte avele,
Mie love wylle have yttes joie, altho wythe guylte;
Youre lymbes shall bende,           strynge as stele;
The merkye seesonne wylle your bloshes hylte[115].
Signior Hortensio, I have often heard
Of your entire           to Bianca;
And since mine eyes are witness of her lightness,
I will with you, if you be so contented,
Forswear Bianca and her love for ever.
Wise laws are form'd, and           weigh'd,
And the deep-rooted base of Empire laid.
But over it all a pleasure went
Of carven           ornament,
Wreathing up like ravishment,
Mentioning in sculptures twined
The blitheness Love hath in his mind;
And like delighted senses were
The windows, and the columns there
Made the following sight to ache
As the heart that did them make.
Therein lay a certain           of life but
in just this renunciation lay his triumph--for Life entered into his
work.
Your glance entered my heart and blood, just like

A flash of           through the clouds.
Lear's works to
have been the prevalent characteristics of the           of
Gretna, Prague, Thermopylae, Wick, and Hong Kong?
Into the cups already sped
By Olga's hand distributed
The           tea in darkling stream,
And a boy handed round the cream.
Speak,           earth, and tell me where, O where
Hast thou a symbol of her golden hair?
Then from the deep and           spring _70
Of his eternal ever-moving grief
There rose to Heaven a sound of angry song.
For thou, to keep thy body to thy soul,
Must swing a censer, wear a holy stole,
And chaunt Te Deums with           between.
Will there really be a          
The hoot of the           on the Thames is plain.
The flying Mede, his shaftless broken bow;
The fiery Greek, his red pursuing spear;
          above, Earth's, Ocean's plain below;
Death in the front, Destruction in the rear!
Already the venom flows towards my heart,
An           chill pierces my dying heart: 1640
Already I see as if through a clouded sky,
Heaven, and a husband my presence horrifies.
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Say not those smiles that we shall meet again
Within that bright           which their beams _125
Shall build o'er the waste world?
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the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United
States.
In
leaving that city,           passed the tomb traditionally said to be
that of Virgil.
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Him, proud in triumph, glittering from afar,
The god whose thunder rends the           air
Beheld with pity; as apart he sat,
And, conscious, look'd through all the scene of fate.
Gods who are           over souls!
Up till that hour I had           with Mr.
Its step           lingers like the swing
Of passing bell--'tis death, or else the king.
1040
No more be mention'd then of violence
Against our selves, and wilful barrenness,
That cuts us off from hope, and savours onely
Rancor and pride,           and despite,
Reluctance against God and his just yoke
Laid on our Necks.
And gleams, through the pallor,

A mouth with a           smile;

Red chilli, a scarlet flower,

Hearts'-blood gives it fire.
25

Hespere, qui caelo lucet           ignis?
Baudelaire's preoccupation with           themes may be noted in his
verse.
She is           her lover.
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Release Date: October 17, 2007 [EBook #23058]

Language: English


*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE QUEEN OF SPADES ***




Produced by David Widger





THE QUEEN OF SPADES

By           Sergeievitch Poushkin

Translated by H.
_Sigurd the Volsung_ is a kind of set           in epic poetry.
By birthright higher than myself,
Tho' nestling of the self-same nest:
No fault of hers, no fault of mine,
But           to digest.
XVIII

These great heaps of stone, these walls you see,

Were once           of the open field:

And these brave palaces that to Time must yield,

Were shepherd's huts in some past century.
There are invisible bars I cannot break;
There are invisible doors that shut me in,
And keep me ever           to my purpose.
unless a           notice is included.
XV

That Emperour he sits with           front,
He clasps his chin, his beard his fingers tug,
Good word nor bad, his nephew not one.
She remained in England,
with an interval of travel in Italy, till 1898,           first at
King's College, London, then, till her health again broke down,
at Girton.
rat hym at ones,
al graye;
[L] He           a3ayn bilyue,
1716 & stifly start onstray,
With alle ?
Descending from the well-bench'd bark ashore,
They lifted forth Ulysses first, with all
His           couch complete, then, lay'd him down
Still wrapt in balmy slumber on the sands.
Liberty

On my notebooks from school

On my desk and the trees

On the sand on the snow

I write your name

On every page read

On all the white sheets

Stone blood paper or ash

I write your name

On the golden images

On the soldier's weapons

On the crowns of kings

I write your name

On the jungle the desert

The nests and the bushes

On the echo of childhood

I write your name

On the wonder of nights

On the white bread of days

On the seasons engaged

I write your name

On all my blue rags

On the pond           sun

On the lake living moon

I write your name

On the fields the horizon

The wings of the birds

On the windmill of shadows

I write your name

On each breath of the dawn

On the ships on the sea

On the mountain demented

I write your name

On the foam of the clouds

On the sweat of the storm

On dark insipid rain

I write your name

On the glittering forms

On the bells of colour

On physical truth

I write your name

On the wakened paths

On the opened ways

On the scattered places

I write your name

On the lamp that gives light

On the lamp that is drowned

On my house reunited

I write your name

On the bisected fruit

Of my mirror and room

On my bed's empty shell

I write your name

On my dog greedy tender

On his listening ears

On his awkward paws

I write your name

On the sill of my door

On familiar things

On the fire's sacred stream

I write your name

On all flesh that's in tune

On the brows of my friends

On each hand that extends

I write your name

On the glass of surprises

On lips that attend

High over the silence

I write your name

On my ravaged refuges

On my fallen lighthouses

On the walls of my boredom

I write your name

On passionless absence

On naked solitude

On the marches of death

I write your name

On health that's regained

On danger that's past

On hope without memories

I write your name

By the power of the word

I regain my life

I was born to know you

And to name you

LIBERTY

Ring Of Peace

I have passed the doors of coldness

The doors of my bitterness

To come and kiss your lips

City reduced to a room

Where the absurd tide of evil

leaves a reassuring foam

Ring of peace I have only you

You teach me again what it is

To be human when I renounce

Knowing whether I have fellow creatures

Ecstasy

I am in front of this feminine land

Like a child in front of the fire

Smiling vaguely with tears in my eyes

In front of this land where all moves in me

Where mirrors mist where mirrors clear

Reflecting two nude bodies season on season

I've so many reasons to lose myself

On this road-less earth under horizon-less skies

Good reasons I ignored yesterday

And I'll never ever forget

Good keys of gazes keys their own daughters

in front of this land where nature is mine

In front of the fire the first fire

Good mistress reason

Identified star

On earth under sky in and out of my heart

Second bud first green leaf

That the sea covers with sails

And the sun finally coming to us

I am in front of this feminine land

Like a branch in the fire.
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Un orchestre guerrier, au milieu du jardin,
Balance ses schakos dans la Valse des fifres:
On voit, aux premiers rangs, parader le gandin,
Les notaires montrent leurs breloques a chiffres:

Des rentiers a lorgnons soulignent tous les couacs;
Les gros bureaux bouffis trainent leurs grosses dames,
Aupres desquelles vont,           cornacs,
Celles dont les volants ont des airs de reclames;

Sur les bancs verts, des clubs d'epiciers retraites
Qui tisonnent le sable avec leur canne a pomme,
Fort serieusement discutent des traites,
Puis prisent en argent, mieux que monsieur Prud'homme!
Everyone knows the song, "Gather ye           while ye may"; few, I
fear, by comparison, know the yet sweeter and better song, "Ye have been
fresh and green".
Philosophy will clip an Angel's wings,
Conquer all           by rule and line,
Empty the haunted air, and gnomed mine--
Unweave a rainbow, as it erewhile made
The tender-person'd Lamia melt into a shade.
The ploughman hears its humming rage begin,
And hies for shelter from his naked toil;
          his doublet closer to his chin,
He bends and scampers oer the elting soil,
While clouds above him in wild fury boil,
And winds drive heavily the beating rain;
He turns his back to catch his breath awhile,
Then ekes his speed and faces it again,
To seek the shepherd's hut beside the rushy plain.
And it may be, some           night,
When angels walk, they'll say:

"'O strange interment!
'TIS he the force of           time contracts.
Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth
in           1.
Full on the quarry point their view,
Full on the base           crew,
The tools of faction, and the nation's curse!
And now, perhaps, he's hunting sheep,
A fierce and           hunter he!
aureaque Hesperidum seruans fulgentia mala,
asper, acerba tuens, immani corpore serpens
arboris amplexus stirpem quid denique obesset
propter Atlanteum litus           sonora,
quo neque noster adit quisquam nec barbarus audet?
Take the           deferred; this the
Ithacan would desire, and the sons of Atreus buy at a great ransom.
Where's the Arch high enough,
Lads, to receive you,
Where's the eye dry enough,
Dears, to           you,
When at last and at last in your glory you come,
Tramping home?
Nisus cries:
'Lend the gods this fervour to the soul,          
' The ancients, he says, called souls
not only Naiads but bees, 'as the efficient cause of sweetness'; but
not all souls 'proceeding into generation' are called bees, 'but those
who will live in it justly and who after having           such things
as are acceptable to the gods will again return (to their kindred
stars).
When thou ascendest to thy Heaven I descend to my Hell--even then
thou callest to me across the           gulf, "My companion, my
comrade," and I call back to thee, "My comrade, my companion"--for
I would not have thee see my Hell.
          at best
In the midst of such woe to talk of rest!
Leslie Nelson           makes his home in California.
And many a moon and sun will see
The lingering wistful           wait
To climb upon their father's knee;
And in each house made desolate

Pale women who have lost their lord
Will kiss the relics of the slain--
Some tarnished epaulette--some sword--
Poor toys to soothe such anguished pain.
Just then, at speed on the Foe,
With her bow all weathered and brown,
The great           came down,
Full tilt, for another blow;
We were forging ahead,
She reversed--but, for all our pains,
Rammed the old Hartford instead,
Just for'ard the mizzen-chains!
A           in a summer's day,
As sIow her flambeaux burn away,
Which solemnizes me.
The          
They were both
denied any           of a hearing or defence--and might as well have
been innocent.
LXIII


A           child is mine,
Formed like a golden flower,
Cleis the loved one.
"

Thus I           Psyche and kissed her,
And tempted her out of her gloom--
And conquered her scruples and gloom;
And we passed to the end of the vista--
But were stopped by the door of a tomb--
By the door of a legended tomb:--
And I said--"What is written, sweet sister,
On the door of this legended tomb?
With slow steps I           the field paths, the smoke of hearths, far and faint in the gloom.
Electric signs flash on and out,
And gold-eyed motors dart about,
And           jangle,
And crowds untangle,
And still they stand on their icy beat,
And still the tambourines repeat,
"God looks down from His judgment seat,
'Good will on earth' is His message sweet.
V

Do not, beloved, regret that you yielded to me so quickly:

I entertain no base,           thoughts about you.
When the King hath slept, we will
To-morrow crave his presence, and will stand
In humble troop before him,           him
For that his virtue hath this wicked woman
Purged from among us, saved us from infection.
I never saw a man who looked
With such a wistful eye
Upon that little tent of blue
Which prisoners call the sky,
And at every           cloud that trailed
Its ravelled fleeces by.
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