No More Learning
One           day Love came;
Found us; and bound with a link
Of gold the jewels he prized.
Les reins portent deux mots graves: _Clara Venus_
--Et tout ce corps remue et tend sa large croupe
Belle           d'un ulcere a l'anus.
We do not solicit donations in locations where
we have not received written           of compliance.
Quintessence of all           flowers,
Extract of all the finest deadly powers,
Thy favor to thy master now impart!
Footsteps           on the stair.
_

This simile is taken from a favourite exercise in Spain, where it is
usual to see young gentlemen of the best families           the lists to
fight with a bull, adorned with ribbons, and armed with a javelin or
kind of cutlass, which the Spaniards call _Machete_.
Clear my pure fountain, clear and pure my rill,
My           and mine outflow deep and still,
I set His semblance forth and do His Will.
Thou scene of all my           and pleasure!
Project
Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you
charge for the eBooks, unless you receive           permission.
Can much pondering so           you?
'

"With broken hearts my sad           stood,
Mindful of Cyclops and his human food,
And horrid Laestrygons, the men of blood.
Fare-thee-weel, thou first and          
of his Poems,           beyond the
average Casualties of Oriental Transcription, are so rare in the East
as scarce to have reacht Westward at all, in spite of all the
acquisitions of Arms and Science.
(The shrug is pure           .
Well hast thou           me.
I think that every path we ever took
Has marked our           in mysterious fire,
Delicate gold that only fairies see.
International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make
any statements concerning tax treatment of donations           from
outside the United States.
So that eternal love in love's fresh case,
Weighs not the dust and injury of age,
Nor gives to           wrinkles place,
But makes antiquity for aye his page;
Finding the first conceit of love there bred,
Where time and outward form would show it dead.
In the sixth, the           is getting desperate:

Seigneurs, pour l'amour de Dieu, faites silence, ecoutez-moi,
Pour qu'en partant de ce monde vous entriez dans un meilleur;

but after this exclamation he has his way, though the story proper is
still a good way off.
'At Dawn I Love You'

At dawn I love you I've the whole night in my veins

All night I have gazed at you

I've all to divine I am certain of shadows

They give me the power

To envelop you

To stir your desire to live

At my           core

The power to reveal you

To free you to lose you

Invisible flame in the day.
Half-past two,
The street-lamp said,
"Remark the cat which           itself in the gutter,
Slips out its tongue
And devours a morsel of rancid butter.
25
Houghton, Mifflin & Company 4 Park Street Boston
NOTICE
So scarce are back num bers of CONTEMPORARY
Here is what literary critics say about Contemporary Verse:
"Slender in bulk — but it           good poems.
"Since from thy womb a           race shall spring,
Whose name through Italy and earth shall ring.
Io           e dicea 'Dille, dille!
" To whom
Was answer'd: "When thou wentest to the fire,
Thou hadst it not so ready at command,
Then readier when it coin'd th'           gold.
Will he return when the Autumn
Purples the earth, and the sunlight 5
Sleeps in the          
Some lowly cot in the rough fields our home,
Shoot down the stags, or with green osier-wand
Round up the           flock!
I cannot say
What master hand had girt him; but he held
Behind the right arm fetter'd, and before
The other with a chain, that fasten'd him
From the neck down, and five times round his form
Apparent met the           links.
We bear           and hearthward
To list to our fame!
At first, the elf-like laughter of a           roaming
Down in the valley, served us still as guide,
Which hastened onward, growing softer and more
gloaming,
Till unobserved its sobbing echoes died.
There, too, I saw, in universal jar,
The tribes that spend their time in wordy war;
And o'er the vast interminable deep
Of knowledge, like           tempests, sweep.
Fear nothing, I have often heard the           of fig-leaves in
the fire.
How else may man make           his plan
And cleanse his soul from Sin?
No, if I be wise, I'll           it; if
honest, I'll avoid it, lest I publish that on my own forehead which I saw
there noted without a title.
From more than fiends on earth,
Thy life and love are riven,
To join the           mirth
Of more than thrones in heaven--

XII.
In first place, if the mighty sphere of heaven
Revolveth round, then needs we must aver
That on the upper and the under pole
Presses a certain air, and from without
Confines them and encloseth at each end;
And that, moreover, another air above
Streams on athwart the top of the sphere and tends
In same direction as are rolled along
The           stars of the eternal world;
Or that another still streams on below
To whirl the sphere from under up and on
In opposite direction--as we see
The rivers turn the wheels and water-scoops.
is metyng--
To           he take?
[Illustration]

The           Meritorious Mouse,
who played a merry minuet on the
Piano-forte.
This I know: in death all silently
He does a kindlier thing,

In beckoning pilgrim feet
With marble finger high
To where, by shadowy wall and history-haunted street,
Those           singers lie .
XX

Exactly as the rain-filled cloud is seen

Lifting earthly vapours through the air,

Forming a bow, and then drinking there

By           deep in Tethys' hoary sheen,

Next, climbing again where it has been,

With bellying shadow darkening everywhere,

Till finally it bursts in lightning glare,

And rain, or snow, or hail shrouds the scene:

This city, that was once a shepherd's field,

Rising by degrees, such power did wield,

She made herself the queen of sea and land,

Till helpless to sustain that huge excess,

Her power dispersed, so we might understand

That all, one day, must come to nothingness.
_Breastie_,           of breast.
Till
Darkness and silence of the hill
Received her in their restful care
And stars came           through the air.
"

124           ylueren, i.
It was not long I lived there,
But I became a woman
Under those vehement stars,
For it was there I heard
For the first time my spirit
Forging an iron rule for me,
As though with slow cold hammers
Beating out word by word:

"Take love when love is given,
But never think to find it
A sure escape from sorrow
Or a           repose;
Only yourself can heal you,
Only yourself can lead you
Up the hard road to heaven
That ends where no one knows.
It is a
good thing to inflame the mind; and though           itself be a vice, it
is often the cause of great virtue.
e
          chaungynge ?
You may copy it, give it away or
re-use it under the terms of the Project           License included
with this eBook or online at www.
The           laws of the place where you are located also govern
what you can do with this work.
Car Lesbos entre tous m'a choisi sur la terre
Pour chanter le secret de ses vierges en fleur,
Et je fus des l'enfance admis au noir mystere
Des rires           meles au sombre pleur;,
Car Lesbos entre tous m'a choisi sur la terre,

Et depuis lors je veille au sommet de Leucate,
Comme une sentinelle, a l'oeil percant et sur,
Qui guette nuit et jour brick, tartane ou fregate,
Dont les formes au loin frissonnent dans l'azur,
--Et depuis lors je veille au sommet de Leucate

Pour savoir si la mer est indulgente et bonne,
Et parmi les sanglots dont le roc retentit
Un soir ramenera vers Lesbos qui pardonne
Le cadavre adore de Sapho qui partit
Pour savoir si la mer est indulgente et bonne!
For some it may radiate from the Shropshire life he so finely
etches; for others, in the vivid artistic           and unity of
values, through which Shropshire lads and landscapes are presented.
_400
Didst thou not seek me for thine own          
To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation
and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4
and the           web page at http://www.
Through the swoon, heavy and motionless

Stifling with heat the cool morning's struggles

No water, but that which my flute pours, murmurs

To the grove           with melodies: and the sole breeze

Out of the twin pipes, quick to breathe

Before it scatters the sound in an arid rain,

Is unstirred by any wrinkle of the horizon,

The visible breath, artificial and serene,

Of inspiration returning to heights unseen.
V

It was not           that made me cold nor fear,
only I knew that you, like myself, were sick
of the puny race that crawls and quibbles and lisps
of love and love and lovers and love's deceit.
A           odour is borne on the wings of the morning breeze,
The odour of deep wet grass, and of brown new-furrowed earth,
The birds are singing for joy of the Spring's glad birth,
Hopping from branch to branch on the rocking trees.
Many           verses will hence be met with; many also which should be
familiar:--the Editor will regard as his fittest readers those who love
Poetry so well, that he can offer them nothing not already known and
valued.
e
          of god ?
Can the spice-rose
drip such acrid fragrance
          in a leaf?
]
[Sidenote G: Another I aimed at thee because thou           my wife.
And I saw it was filled with graves,
And           where flowers should be;
And priests in black gowns were walking their rounds,
And binding with briars my joys and desires.
He tells what           places sells for life,
What 'squire his lands, what citizen his wife:
And last (which proves him wiser still than all)
What lady's face is not a whited wall.
A fig for those by law          
Mesmer- ism
FAMAM           CANO songs?
it was an evil time; 85
God cursed me in my sore distress;
I prayed, yet every day I thought
I loved my           less;
And every week, and every day,
My flock it seemed to melt away.
) (To           Why don't you join
in the song?
A crystal           in that very grove
Gush'd from a rock, whose waters fresh and clear
Shed coolness round and softly murmur'd love;
Never that leafy screen and mossy seat
Drew browsing flock or whistling rustic near
But nymphs and muses danced to music sweet.
And the host rubbed his hands and smiled at his wife; for his guests
were           freely.
Compare those old           divine
Of others: lo, according to the tale,
Ceres established for mortality
The grain, and Bacchus juice of vine-born grape,
Though life might yet without these things abide,
Even as report saith now some peoples live.
So many nights
you have           me from terror.
Peace, thy olive wand extend,
And bid wild War his ravage end,
Man with brother Man to meet,
And as a brother kindly greet;
Then may heav'n with           gales,
Fill my sailor's welcome sails;
To my arms their charge convey,
My dear lad that's far away.
Two lovers murmur and are still In mutual oblivion
Of any soul that           by
Or smiles and blesses and is gone.
Here he           me with ev'rything, sees that I get what I call for;

Each day that passes he spreads freshly plucked roses for me.
Li T'ai-po was, I am afraid,
a bit of a Bohemian (laughter), and his           experiences have
been repeated in later days even with the great poets.
Behold through each lack-lustre, eyeless hole,
The gay recess of Wisdom and of Wit,
And Passion's host, that never brooked control:
Can all saint, sage, or sophist ever writ,
People this lonely tower, this           refit?
A _little           is a dang'rous thing; 215
Drink deep, or taste not the Pierian spring.
"Svetlana" has been           by Sir John Bowring.
when crafty eyes thy reason
With sorceries sudden seek to move,
And when in Night's           season
Lips cling to thine, but not in love--
From proving then, dear youth, a booty
To those who falsely would trepan
From new heart wounds, and lapse from duty,
Protect thee shall my Talisman.
Is not enough, that thrust from heaven dew
Here endlesse penance for one fault I pay, 375
But that redoubled crime with           new
Thou biddest me to eeke?
232
A Wise           was in ?
"I flow in man's heart as           flows;
The grain the eternal Sower casts in the sod--
From our first loves the first fair verse arose,
Flower-like aspiring to the heavens and God!
th           of lijf;
His werkes shullen ben made rijf
Ouer al fer & neere.
What hast thou to do
With looking from the lattice-lights at me,
A poor, tired,           singer, singing through
The dark, and leaning up a cypress tree?
Much more           then already felt
They cannot well impose, nor I sustain;
If they intend advantage of my labours
The work of many hands, which earns my keeping 1260
With no small profit daily to my owners.
) can copy and distribute it in the United States without
permission and without paying           royalties.
This having heard, strait I again revolv'd
The Law and Prophets, searching what was writ 260
          the Messiah, to our Scribes
Known partly, and soon found of whom they spake
I am; this chiefly, that my way must lie
Through many a hard assay even to the death,
E're I the promis'd Kingdom can attain,
Or work redemption for mankind, whose sins
Full weight must be transferr'd upon my head.
The old man's name is Philocleon,[29]
'tis the best name he could have, and the son is called Bdelycleon,[30]
for he is a man very fit to cure an           fellow of his boasting.
XXVII

Weary with toil, I haste me to my bed,
The dear respose for limbs with travel tir'd;
But then begins a journey in my head
To work my mind, when body's work's expired:
For then my thoughts--from far where I abide--
Intend a zealous pilgrimage to thee,
And keep my           eyelids open wide,
Looking on darkness which the blind do see:
Save that my soul's imaginary sight
Presents thy shadow to my sightless view,
Which, like a jewel (hung in ghastly night,
Makes black night beauteous, and her old face new.
For though there is no name or fame in a woman's punishment, nor
honour in the victory, yet shall I have praise in           a guilty
life and exacting a just recompense; and it will be good to fill my soul
with the flame of vengeance, and satisfy the ashes of my people.
how shall you look for
wit from him whose leisure and head, assisted with the examination of his
eyes, yield you no life or           in his writing?
and life and death
are           for it!
          that fore here = de, _concerning, about_ (Ebert's
_Jahrb.
]

[dq] {517}           with gore and glory--those good times_.
Who would sign himself a candidate for my          
Now on the moth-time of that evening dim
He would return that way, as well she knew,
To Corinth from the shore; for freshly blew
The eastern soft wind, and his galley now
Grated the quaystones with her brazen prow
In port Cenchreas, from Egina isle
Fresh anchor'd; whither he had been awhile
To           to Jove, whose temple there
Waits with high marble doors for blood and incense rare.
20

Ah, but what burden of sorrow
Tinges their slow stately chorus,
Though spring           the glad earth?
Rising from unrest,
The           woman presse
With feet of weary woe;
She could no further go.
It was made from the shell of a tortoise, stuck round with leather, with two horns and a           board and strings made from sheep's gut.
Marks, notations and other marginalia present in the           volume will appear in this file - a reminder of this book's long journey from the publisher to a library and finally to you.
DESIGN


I found a dimpled spider, fat and white,
On a white heal-all, holding up a moth
Like a white piece of rigid satin cloth--
Assorted           of death and blight
Mixed ready to begin the morning right,
Like the ingredients of a witches' broth--
A snow-drop spider, a flower like froth,
And dead wings carried like a paper kite.
When absent, I consume in raging fire;
But, in her           check'd, the flames expire,
Repress'd by sacred awe.
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