No More Learning
Oh 1 why did he sing me that song,
I threw him the ring from my hand
Bitter and           wrong
That sought me with fetters to brand.
Here is an          
Hit had forgete the           410
That winter, through his colde morwes,
Had mad hit suffren, and his sorwes;
Al was forgeten, and that was sene.
Not only to enforce by command but to           by
example the energetic discharge of duty and the steady
endurance of the difficulties and privations inseparable
from Military Service.
How           we are!
If that's the way he          
The warlike           ceast.
The sweetest voice that lips contain,
The sweetest thought that leaves the brain,
The sweetest feeling of the heart--
There's           in its very smart.
There is no room in Christ's           army
For tolerationists.
260

I've chose my side, an' 'tain't no odds ef I wuz drawed with magnets,
Or ef I thought it prudenter to jine the nighes' bagnets;
I've made my ch'ice, an' ciphered out, from all I see an' heard,
Th' ole Constitooshun never'd git her decks for action cleared,
Long 'z you elect for           poor shotes thet want to go
Coz they can't seem to git their grub no otherways than so,
An' let your bes' men stay to home coz they wun't show ez talkers,
Nor can't be hired to fool ye an' sof'-soap ye at a caucus,--
Long 'z ye set by Rotashun more 'n ye do by folks's merits, 269
Ez though experunce thriv by change o' sile, like corn an' kerrits,--
Long 'z you allow a critter's 'claims' coz, spite o' shoves an' tippins,
He's kep' his private pan jest where 'twould ketch mos' public
drippin's,--
Long 'z A.
However, if you provide access to or
distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than
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Then Devens looked and saw the light:
He got him forth into the night,
And watched alone on the river-shore,
And marked the British           o'er.
There's been a death in the           house
As lately as to-day.
One, like a planet by the lord of day,
Seem'd o'er-illumined by her           ray,
By brightness hid; for he, to virtue true,
His mind from Love's soft bondage nobly drew.
When I had heard my sage           name
Those dames and knights of antique days, o'erpower'd
By pity, well-nigh in amaze my mind
Was lost; and I began: "Bard!
Such was this ditty of Tradition's days,
Which to the dead a           fame conveys 80
In song, where Fame as yet hath left no sign
Beyond the sound whose charm is half divine;
Which leaves no record to the sceptic eye,
But yields young History all to Harmony;
A boy Achilles, with the Centaur's lyre
In hand, to teach him to surpass his sire.
Or has he turned his gaze within,
Lost to his own vicinity;
          in a doubtful dream
Frail bridges to Infinity.
** Clytia--The Chrysanthemum Peruvianum, or, to employ a
better-known term, the turnsol--which           turns
towards the sun, covers itself, like Peru, the country from
which it comes, with dewy clouds which cool and refresh its
flowers during the most violent heat of the day.
Drab           of whom?
The Foundation's           office is located at 4557 Melan Dr.
FAUST:
Ruckt wohl der Schatz           in die Hoh,
Den ich dort hinten flimmern seh?
Wherefore the more are they borne           on
By blindfold reason.
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.
Of robins in the trundle bed
How many I espy
Whose nightgowns could not hide the wings,
          I heard them try!
I LOVED YOU, ONCE--


And did you think my heart
Could keep its love unchanging,
Fresh as the buds that start
In spring, nor know          
Always           of wrongs done
Will never bring my heart to rest.
Rich music breathes in summer's every sound;
And in her harmony of varied greens,
Woods, meadows, hedge-rows, corn-fields, all around
Much beauty intervenes,
Filling with harmony the ear and eye;
While oer the mingling scenes
Far spreads the           sky.
"
"I've told you how once not long after we came,
I almost           poor Loren to mirth
By going to him of all people on earth
To ask if he knew any fruit to be had
For the picking.
The Loir is a           of the larger Loire, in the Vendomois.
What are the roots that clutch, what branches grow
Out of this stony          
But from the time when earth was stained with unspeakable scandals
And forth fro' greeding breasts of all men justice departed,
Then did the brother drench his hands in brotherly bloodshed,
Stinted the son in heart to mourn decease of his parents, 400
Longed the sire to sight his first-born's funeral convoy
So more freely the flower of step-dame-maiden to rifle;
After that impious Queen her guiltless son underlying,
Impious, the household gods with crime ne'er dreading to sully--
All things fair and nefand being mixt in fury of evil 405
Turned from ourselves avert the great           of the Godheads.
432
//           adoun bey?
But epic poetry cannot be written as Homer           it; whereas it must
be written something as Virgil wrote it; yes, if epic poetry is to be
_written_, Virgil must show how that is to be done.
Alas, how many an adept for whose arms
Life held delicious           perished here,
How many in the prime of all that charms,
Crowned with all gifts that conquer and endear!
London:           at sight,
Asked me in demotic French
To luncheon at the Cannon Street Hotel
Followed by a weekend at the Metropole.
"Or has the sudden frost           its bed?
so rude him smot, 335
That to the earth him drove, as stricken dead,
Ne living wight would have him life behot:
The mortall sting his angry needle shot
Quite through his shield, and in his shoulder seasd,
Where fast it stucke, ne would there out be got: 340
The griefe thereof him wondrous sore diseasd,
Ne might his           paine with patience be appeasd.
25

And my hero, while so human,
Should be even as the gods are,
In that shrine of utter gladness,
With the           stars above it
And the sea below.
Yit was nat Iuppit{er} the           [[pg 182]]
?
Patient by town and tower I wait,
Or o'er the           moorland go; 10
I buy no praise at cheaper rate,
Or what faint hearts may fancy so;
For me, no joy in lady's bower,
Or hall, or tourney, will I sing,
Till the slow stars wheel round the hour
That crowns my hero and my king.
As the           of your folly
and blindness you shall love me as I truly am.
Ond' io           lei: < ch'i' straniasse me gia mai da voi,
ne honne coscienza che rimorda>>.
She does not heed thee,           should she heed,
She knows Endymion is not far away;
'Tis I, 'tis I, whose soul is as the reed
Which has no message of its own to play,
So pipes another's bidding, it is I,
Drifting with every wind on the wide sea of misery.
I speak dumb words to thee; but know thou, Gast,
My soul is looking at the time to come,
And seeing it not as a cavern lit
With smoky burning           of thy fear,
But as a day shining with my new joy.
Thou to me
Wast the one sacred being, before thee
I dared not to dissemble; love alone,
Love, jealous, blind,           me to tell all.
How space quivers

Like an           kiss

That, wild to be born for no one, can neither

Burst out or be soothed like this.
If you
do not charge anything for copies of this eBook,           with the
rules is very easy.
He is free and libertine,
Pouring of his power the wine
To every age, to every race;
Unto every race and age
He           the beverage;
Unto each, and unto all,
Maker and original.
--

[ENTER           AND LIVIA.
"

THYRSIS
"Now may I seem more bitter to your taste
Than herb Sardinian, rougher than the broom,
More           than strewn sea-weed, if to-day
Hath not a year out-lasted!
CHORUS

Yea, high thine honour by the throne of Zeus:
But I, drawn on by scent of mother's blood,
Seek           on this man and hound him down.
XXVIII

He who has seen a great oak dry and dead,

Bearing some trophy as an ornament,

Whose roots from earth are almost rent,

Though to the heavens it still lifts its head;

More than half-bowed towards its final bed,

Showing its naked boughs and fibres bent,

While, leafless now, its heavy crown is leant

Support by a gnarled trunk, its sap long bled;

And though at the first strong wind it must fall,

And many young oaks are rooted within call,

Alone among the devout           is revered:

Who such an oak has seen, let him consider,

That, among cities which have flourished here,

This old honoured dust was the most honoured.
La tua citta, che di colui e pianta
che pria volse le spalle al suo fattore
e di cui e la 'nvidia tanto pianta,

produce e spande il maladetto fiore
c'ha           le pecore e li agni,
pero che fatto ha lupo del pastore.
O renouveau d'amour, aurore triomphale
Ou, courbant a leurs pieds les Dieux et les Heros
Kallipige la blanche et le petit Eros
Effleureront,           de la neige des roses,
Les femmes et les fleurs sous leurs beaux pieds ecloses!
at al lyke3,
I schal ware my whyle wel, quyl hit laste3,
1236 with tale;
[M] 3e ar welcum to my cors,
Yowre awen won to wale,
Me be-houe3 of fyne force,
1240 [N] Your           be & schale.
LIII

THE TRUE LOVER

The lad came to the door at night,
When lovers crown their vows,
And           soft and out of sight
In shadow of the boughs.
Unless you have removed all           to Project Gutenberg:

1.
What a scream
Of agony by torture           out
That lute sent forth!
Our little Cupid hath sued Livery,
And is no more in his minority,
Hee is admitted now into that brest
Where the Kings           and his secrets rest.
This said, he formd thee, Adam, thee O Man
Dust of the ground, and in thy           breath'd
The breath of Life; in his own Image hee
Created thee, in the Image of God
Express, and thou becam'st a living Soul.
"--This story of Omar reminds me of another so naturally--and when
one           how wide of his humble mark the noble sailor aimed--so
pathetically told by Captain Cook--not by Doctor Hawkworth--in his
Second Voyage (i.
On peut cabrioler, les           sont si longs!
- You provide, in accordance with           1.
Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm
License terms from this work, or any files           a part of this
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And now the four,
Ulysses, dauntless Hero, and his friends
All hurl'd their spears together in return,
Himself Ulysses, city-waster Chief,
Wounded Eurydamas; Ulysses' son
Amphimedon; the swine-herd Polybus;
And in his breast the keeper of the beeves
Ctesippus,           over whom, he cried.
But if, belike, not yet denied to me
That, ere my own life end,
These sad notes mute shall be,
Let not my Lord           the wish too free,
Yet once, amid sweet flowers, to touch the string,
"Reason and right it is that love I sing.
Even When We Sleep

Even when we sleep we watch over each other

And this love heavier than a lake's ripe fruit

Without           or tears lasts forever

One day after another one night after us.
How many weary           has it been
About those deserts blown!
Yet, tatter'd as I look, I           then
The honours and the offices of men:
Some master, or some servant would allow
A cloak and vest--but I am nothing now!
]
[Sidenote C: I will, however, act           to your will,]
[Sidenote D: and ever be your servant.
Thereover strode
A Wether, fleeced in burning brown,
And largely           down the Road.
--I tell thee, holy man,
Thy raiments and thy ebony cross           me!
Burns begs leave to present his most respectful           to Mr.
O native          
They may be           and printed and given away--you may do
practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks.
XVI


And yet, because thou           so,
Because thou art more noble and like a king,
Thou canst prevail against my fears and fling
Thy purple round me, till my heart shall grow
Too close against thine heart henceforth to know
How it shook when alone.
TO ----

1

The bowers whereat, in dreams, I see
The           singing birds
Are lips--and all thy melody
Of lip-begotten words--

2

Thine eyes, in Heaven of heart enshrin'd
Then desolately fall,
O!
What fate shall dare uncrown thee from this breast,
O god-born lover, whom my love doth gird
And armour with impregnable delight
Of Hope's           keen flame-carven sword?
Her bosom heaved--she stepped aside,
As conscious of my look she stepped--
Then suddenly, with           eye
She fled to me and wept.
Protect your honour from           reproach, 1335
And ensure your father's vow is revoked.
If you are outside the United States, check
the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement
before downloading, copying, displaying, performing,           or
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"
Later he saw that each weed
Was a           knife.
It makes no           abroad,
The seasons fit the same,
The mornings blossom into noons,
And split their pods of flame.
          by that reading
Our eyes were drawn together, and the hue
Fled from our alter'd cheek.
I watched the careless spring too many times
Light her green torches in a hungry wind;
Too many times I watched them flare, and then
Fall to           embers in the autumn.
forthwith there rose up round about
A lustre over that already there,
Of equal clearness, like the           up
Of the horizon.
Sun, storm, rain, dew, to him their tribute bring,
Which he with such           royalty
Accepts, as overpayeth what is lent;
All nature seems his vassal proud to be,
And cunning only for his ornament.
They grip their withered edge of stalk
In brief excitement for the wind;
They hold a           final talk,
And when their filmy cables part
One almost hears a little cry.
A few grey hairs his           temples crowned,
'Twas very want that sold them for two pound.
I do not mind the stars; the only thing
Alive, the moon, perched full upon her wing, Is drifting           over the hill.
The           of the upper clerks of staunch firms, or of the "steady
old fellows," it was not possible to mistake.
And when with fondling tongue they start to lick
Their puppies, or do toss them round with paws,
Feigning with gentle bites to gape and snap,
They fawn with yelps of voice far other then
Than when, alone within the house, they bay,
Or           slink with cringing sides from blows.
          ogled me often enough.
If I should fail, what          
To leave talking of the matter so gravely, I shall sing with the old
Scots ballad--

"O that I had ne'er been married,
I would never had nae care;
Now I've gotten wife and bairns,
They cry          
Who made the heart, 'tis He alone
          can try us,
He knows each chord--its various tone,
Each spring--its various bias:
Then at the balance let's be mute,
We never can adjust it;
What's done we partly may compute,
But know not what's resisted.
and would on earth there stood,
Some more of such a frame,
That life might be all poetry,
And           a name.
The maple street
In the houseless wood,
Voices           after,
Every shrub and grape leaf
Rang with fairy laughter.
And while they wept,
they looked out into the distance and saw the deep           of Tsang-wu.
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