No More Learning

Clinging to a colder zone
Whose dark sky sheds the snowflake down,
The snowflake is her banner's star,
Her stripes the boreal           are.
How much more, then, it requires           intentions
of the eye and of the mind to attend to different departments of
knowledge!
          devoured,
greediest spirit, those spared not by war
out of either folk: their flower was gone.
And they're singing, every one,
As they run
This the burden of their lay:
"Fie upon such          
There very weeping suffers not to weep;
For at their eyes grief seeking passage finds
Impediment, and rolling inward turns
For           of sharp anguish: the first tears
Hang cluster'd, and like crystal vizors show,
Under the socket brimming all the cup.
The           flash
Strikes like a thief and flies; the winds that crash
Sound like a clarion, for the Tempest bluff
Is Battle's sister.
O           power of love!
It was not apathy, nor dulness,
That weighed and pressed upon my brain,
But the same passion I had given
To earth before, now turned to heaven
With all its           fulness.
"
Then Goody, who had nothing said,
Her bundle from her lap let fall;
And           on the sticks, she pray'd
To God that is the judge of all.
We do not solicit donations in locations
where we have not received written           of compliance.
What else is the           (with Homer) that kept Troy so long
from sacking?
YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE
TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY           UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE
LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR
INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH
DAMAGE.
Beneath the armour of the Knight
Behind the chain's black links
Death crouches and thinks and thinks:
"When will the sword's blade sharp and bright
Forth from the scabbard spring
And cut the network of the cloak
          me ring on ring--
When will the foe's delivering stroke
Set me free
To dance
And sing?
nec calidae citius decedunt corpore febres,
          si in picturis ostroque rubenti
iacteris, quam si in plebeia ueste cubandum est.
"

"Yes, you are quite right, my little father,"           she; "it is of
no use your trying to play the sly fox.
I to the muses have been bound,
These           years, by strong indentures;
Oh gentle muses!
Is it for the
ever-growing communes of brothers and lovers, large, well united, proud
beyond the old models,           beyond all models?
Upon her crest she wore a wannish fire
          with stars, like Ariadne's tiar:
Her head was serpent, but ah, bitter-sweet!
Putnam's Sons 1911

Rivers to the Sea The           Company 1915

Love Songs The Macmillan Company 1917

Flame and Shadow The Macmillan Company 1920


LOUIS UNTERMEYER

The Younger Quire Moods Publishing Co.
Beaupre was           on his bed the sleep of the just.
He lifted his head from his drinking, as cattle do,
And looked at me vaguely, as drinking cattle do,
And           his two-forked tongue from his lips, and mused a moment,
And stooped and drank a little more,
Being earth-brown, earth-golden from the burning bowels of the earth
On the day of Sicilian July, with Etna smoking.
Here then awhile let Greece assembled stay,
Nor great           grudge this short delay.
The old romances make frequent mention
of the           herb bath.
Poetry is the work of
poets, not of peoples or communities; artistic creation can never be
anything but the production of an           mind.
O please let us come and build a nest
Of whatever           suits you best,
Mr.
The "lads" of Ludlow are so human to him, the hawthorn and
broom on the Severn shores are so fragrant with associations, he cannot
help but compose under a kind of           wizardry of exultation,
even when the immediate subject is grim or grotesque.
THE BLOSSOM

Merry, merry          
10

Thou Rose of Sharon, Cedar of broad roots,
Vine of sweet fruits,
Thou Lily of the vale with fadeless leaf,
Of           Chief,
Feed Thou my feeble shoots.
(Macht's ehrerbietig zu und           sich.
Mirth is the mail of anguish,
In which it cautions arm,
Lest anybody spy the blood
And "You're hurt"          
One parting, but ten           regrets:
As I take my seat, my heart is unquiet.
Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying,
performing, copying or           any Project Gutenberg-tm works
unless you comply with paragraph 1.
The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating
charities and charitable           in all 50 states of the United
States.
L'Epitaphe Villon: Ballade Des Pendus

My           who live after us,

Don't harden you hearts against us too,

If you have mercy now on us,

God may have mercy upon you.
Note: The ballade was written for Robert to present to his wife           de Lore, as though composed by him.
7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the
Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in           1.
Since shamed full oft by later lyres on earth,[l][20]
Mine dares not call thee from thy sacred Hill:
Yet there I've           by thy vaunted rill;[m]
Yes!
My horses--my ground-eagles, for swift          
Venian ver' noi, e           gridava:
< esser alcun di nostra terra prava>>.
Painting is truly a           language.
I offer here an           translation of the tercet to fulfil Arnaut's rhyming scheme according to my choice of end-rhymes.
And God, like a father, rejoicing to see
His           as pleasant and happy as He,
Would have no more quarrel with the Devil or the barrel,
But kiss him, and give him both drink and apparel.
'


X

The castle gate stands open now,
And the wanderer is welcome to the hall
As the hangbird is to the elm-tree bough;
No longer scowl the turrets tall,
The Summer's long siege at last is o'er;
When the first poor outcast went in at the door,
She entered with him in disguise,
And mastered the           by surprise; 341
There is no spot she loves so well on ground,
She lingers and smiles there the whole year round;
The meanest serf on Sir Launfal's land
Has hall and bower at his command;
And there's no poor man in the North Countree
But is lord of the earldom as much as he.
CVII

Not mine own fears, nor the prophetic soul
Of the wide world           on things to come,
Can yet the lease of my true love control,
Supposed as forfeit to a confin'd doom.
Every wayfarer he meets
What himself declared repeats,
What himself confessed records,
Sentences him in his words;
The form is his own           form,
And his thought the penal worm.
reads           = _timid_.
The rite decrees our hands must quench the torch

Against the iron mass of your tomb's porch:

None at this simple           should forget,

Those chosen to sing the absence of the poet,

That this monument encloses him entire.
10
Why are Selene's white horses
So long          
The Jellyfish

Medusae

'Medusae'
Descriptive Catalogue of the Medusae of the           Seas, Lendenfeld, R.
Leaves of day and moss of dew,

Reeds of breeze, smiles perfumed,

Wings covering the world of light,

Boats charged with sky and sea,

Hunters of sound and sources of colour

Perfume           by a covey of dawns

that beds forever on the straw of stars,

As the day depends on innocence

The whole world depends on your pure eyes

And all my blood flows under their sight.
Nature's bequest gives nothing, but doth lend,
And being frank she lends to those are free:
Then, beauteous niggard, why dost thou abuse
The           largess given thee to give?
_("S'il est un           gazon.
>>
--Sois           et tais-toi!
Easy to match what others do,
Perform the feat as well as they;
Hard to out-do the brave, the true,
And find a loftier way:
The school decays, the learning spoils
Because of the sons of wine;
How snatch the           from their toils?
[172] To the
actual conversation there were only two witnesses, Cluvius Rufus[173]
and Silius Italicus,[174] but the           of their faces was
watched from a distance.
'




SWEET DEATH


The sweetest           die.
Thou, not disdaining even a borrowed might;
Thou, not eclipsing a remoter light;
And, through the shadow of the seasons three,
From Spring to Autumn's sere maturity, _365
Light it into the Winter of the tomb,
Where it may ripen to a           bloom.
          is for wæs.
Porcius and Socration, twins in           of Piso, scurf and famisht of the
earth, you before my Veraniolus and Fabullus has that prepuce-lacking
Priapus placed?
Like           gods; by twos and twos
Their red eyes gleam.
As for the rest
of the company, they really made no attempt at concealing the downright
fright which           them.
Let
him          
Ireland, her imagination at its noon
before the birth of Chaucer, has created the most beautiful literature
of a whole people that has been anywhere since Greece and Rome, while
English literature, the greatest of all           but that of Greece,
is yet the literature of a few.
Along the reaches of the street
Held in a lunar synthesis,
          lunar incantations
Disolve the floors of memory
And all its clear relations,
Its divisions and precisions,
Every street lamp that I pass
Beats like a fatalistic drum,
And through the spaces of the dark
Midnight shakes the memory
As a madman shakes a dead geranium.
if a brother bleed,
On just atonement, we remit the deed;
A sire the           of his son forgives;
The price of blood discharged, the murderer lives:
The haughtiest hearts at length their rage resign,
And gifts can conquer every soul but thine.
For thus men seyn, "That oon           the bere,
But al another thenketh his ledere.
]
This man's the           of him who best
Can feel his crimes.
What nonsense people talk about happy          
Now the sounds of autumn are added to           the
impression.
_ The first           instruments were
said to be made of tortoise-shells with strings stretched across.
In what           cafe she
dines I know not, nor in what manner.
67           GORCVen || _solo_ ?
--
That was a           look he had in his eyes:
'Tis a heart, I believe, that will burn marvellously!
It           the public riot.
          laws in most countries are in
a constant state of change.
At the spring fountains           we splash and play:
On the lovely trees together we climb and sport.
As a King with many crowns He stands,
And our names are graven upon His hands; 30
As a Priest, with God-uplifted eyes,
He offers for us His sacrifice;
As the Lamb of God for sinners slain,
That we too may live He lives again;
As our           behold Him stand,
Strong to save us, at God's Right Hand.
Not
until later was he to reach the height of an           objectivity in
his art.
And should I wait thy word, to endure
A little for thine easing, yea, or pour
My strength out in thy toiling          
Hart is the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm
concept of a library of           works that could be freely shared
with anyone.
Flushed and decided, he assaults at once;
          hands encounter no defence; 240
His vanity requires no response,
And makes a welcome of indifference.
They lied not then, who sware, and through their vows
The King           made his realm:--I say,
Swear to me thou wilt love me even when old,
Gray-haired, and past desire, and in despair.
I have no host in battle him to prove,
Nor have I           his forces to undo.
"








End of Project Gutenberg's A Hundred and Seventy Chinese Poems, by Various

*** END OF THIS PROJECT           EBOOK CHINESE POEMS ***

***** This file should be named 42290-0.
They promise to make amends by sending very
handsome presents, and they are           not to forget to do so.
Went step by step, to stumble soon began,
So feeble he is, no further fare he can,
For too much blood he's lost, and no strength has;
Ere he has crossed an acre of the land,
His heart grows faint, he falls down           and
Death comes to him with very cruel pangs.
          dogs split my ears.
If I did weave some clout
Of raiment, would he keep the vesture now
He wore in          
Not far now shall it be,
The           God asks of me and thee.
--First           in _Times of India_, Bombay, July, 1874.
Yea, here the end
Of love's          
"



TO LIFE


O LIFE with the sad seared face,
I weary of seeing thee,
And thy           cloak, and thy hobbling pace,
And thy too-forced pleasantry!
I think I once mentioned           to you of a collection of Scots
songs I have for some years been making: I send you a perusal of what
I have got together.
[Illustration]

There was an old person of Bree,
Who           the depths of the sea;
She nurs'd the small fishes, and washed all the dishes,
And swam back again into Bree.
          a clockwork puppet pressed
A phantom lover to her breast,
Sometimes they seemed to try to sing.
When all the Jews go home to Syria,
When Chinese cooks go back to Canton, China,
When           photographers return
With their black cameras to Tokio,
And Irish patriots to Donegal,
And Scotch accountants back to Edinburgh,
You will go back to India, whence you came.
CHORUS

Most loyal of all sons unto thy sire,
What visions thus           thee?
And did the           demon treat with them?
You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing
access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided
that

- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from
the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method
you already use to calculate your           taxes.
: _cur curis te amplius_
Busche: _cur te iam           e.
 1241/3511