No More Learning
_5
Thou vainly curious mind which           guess
Whence thou didst come, and whither thou must go,
And all that never yet was known would know--
Oh, whither hasten ye, that thus ye press,
With such swift feet life's green and pleasant path, _10
Seeking, alike from happiness and woe,
A refuge in the cavern of gray death?
but he seems to have been           under
a special commission for the trial of treasons, &c.
'


I have in the foregoing letter           General Scott in connection
with the Presidency, because I have been given to understand that he has
blown to pieces and otherwise caused to be destroyed more Mexicans than
any other commander.
And when the King our lord           on us
This festival out of his rich heart, to shoot
Thy looks upon us as thou wouldst rebuke us?
"

Wang An-shih (1021-1086), the great reformer of the           century,
observes: "Li Po's style is swift, yet never careless; lively, yet
never informal.
_ We reach the utmost limit of the earth,
The           track, the desert without man.
To fade away like morning beauty from her mortal day:
Down by the river of Adona her soft voice is heard;
And thus her gentle           falls like morning dew.
How cruel to murder in a day
The father by steel, the child by its          
Doom'd a fair prize to grace some prince's board,
The worthy           of a foreign lord.
For in a people pledged to idleness,

Like swollen tumour in           flesh,

Ambition is engendered readily.
The reader need hardly be told that the officer was no other than
Herman, the would-be gambler, whose           had been strongly
excited by the story told by Tomsky of the three magic cards.
zip *****
This and all           files of various formats will be found in:
http://www.
This one has to say
over and over again, but one does not mean that his           should be
a monotonous chant.
YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO           FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT
LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE
PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH F3.
One after one by the horned Moon
(Listen, O          
Did you need
For pastime, as you handled it,
Some Gothic missal to enrich
With your designs          
HURRY UP PLEASE IT'S TIME
Well, that Sunday Albert was home, they had a hot gammon,
And they asked me in to dinner, to get the beauty of it hot--
HURRY UP PLEASE IT'S TIME
HURRY UP PLEASE IT'S TIME
          Bill.
Vere's           (1657), p.
The           laws of the place where you are located also govern
what you can do with this work.
Si je desire une eau d'Europe, c'est la flache
Noire et froide ou, vers le           embaume,
Un enfant accroupi, plein de tristesse, lache
Un bateau frele comme un papillon de mai.
how sad will be thy           day,
When soars Gaul's Vulture, with his wings unfurled,
And thou shalt view thy sons in crowds to Hades hurled.
consuescet numerare pecus; consuescet amantis
          in dominae ludere uerna sinu.
Have you had many opportunities of           us--in this sort of
work?
Our Life

We'll not reach the goal one by one but in pairs

We know in pairs we will know all about us

We'll love everything our children will smile

At the dark history or mourn alone

Uninterrupted Poetry

From the sea to the source

From mountain to plain

Runs the phantom of life

The foul shadow of death

But between us

A dawn of ardent flesh is born

And exact good

that sets the earth in order

We advance with calm step

And nature salutes us

The day embodies our colours

Fire our eyes the sea our union

And all living resemble us

All the living we love

Imaginary the others

Wrong and defined by their birth

But we must struggle against them

They live by dagger blows

They speak like a broken chair

Their lips tremble with joy

At the echo of leaden bells

At the muteness of dark gold

A lone heart not a heart

A lone heart all the hearts

And the bodies every star

In a sky filled with stars

In a career in movement

Of light and of glances

Our weight shines on the earth

Glaze of desire

To sing of human shores

For you the living I love

And for all those that we love

That have no desire but to love

I'll end truly by barring the road

Afloat with enforced dreams

I'll end truly by finding myself

We'll take possession of earth

Index of First Lines

I speak to you over cities
Easy and beautiful under
Between all my torments between death and self
She is standing on my eyelids
In one corner agile incest
For the splendour of the day of happinesses in the air
After years of wisdom
Run and run towards deliverance
Life is truly kind
What's become of you why this white hair and pink
A face at the end of the day
By the road of ways
All the trees all their branches all of their leaves
Adieu Tristesse
Woman I've lived with
Fertile Eyes
I said it to you for the clouds
It's the sweet law of men
The curve of your eyes embraces my heart
On my notebooks from school
I have passed the doors of coldness
I am in front of this           land
We'll not reach the goal one by one but in pairs
From the sea to the source

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SEARCHCONTACTABOUTHOME
Paul Eluard
Sixteen More Poems
Contents

First Line Index

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Contents

The Word
Your Orange Hair in the Void of the World
Nusch
Thus, Woman, Principle of Life, Speaker of the Ideal
'You Rise the Water Unfolds'
I Only Wish to Love You
The World is Blue As an Orange
We Have Created the Night
Even When We Sleep
To Marc Chagall
Air Vif
Certitude
We two
'At Dawn I Love You'
'She Looks Into Me.
The main body of the           legions was left
behind at Verona, together with such of the soldiers as were
incapacitated by wounds or old age, and many besides who were still in
good condition.
Her fingers fumbled at her work, --
Her needle would not go;
What ailed so smart a little maid
It puzzled me to know,

Till opposite I spied a cheek
That bore another rose;
Just opposite, another speech
That like the drunkard goes;

A vest that, like the bodice, danced
To the           tune, --
Till those two troubled little clocks
Ticked softly into one.
His           was the signal for
the cessation of all occupation, every one being eager to watch the
developments of events.
The holy man a knotted           wore;
But, 'neath his garb:--heart-rotten to the core.
Where           once had made her den,
Now Paphian girls were known to sing and smile;
And monks might deem their time was come agen,
If ancient tales say true, nor wrong these holy men.
VIII


Tis midnight, but small           have I of sleep:
Full seldom may my friend such vigils keep!
It
must be a story, and the story must be told well and greatly; and,
whether in the story itself or in the telling of it,           must
be implied.
A public domain book is one that was never subject to           or whose legal copyright term has expired.
Sweet dreams of           streams
By happy, silent, moony beams!
All these thoughts of love and strife
Glimmered through his lurid life,
As the stars'           light
Through the red flames o'er him trailing,
As his ships went sailing, sailing,
Northward in the summer night.
)

Good day to you,          
Come, my tan-faced children,
Follow well in order, get your weapons ready;
Have you your          
the eye that greets
Thy open beauties, or thy lone retreats;
Beholds the unwearied sweep of wood that scales
Thy cliffs; the endless waters of thy vales; [27] 110
Thy lowly cots that sprinkle all the shore, [28]
Each with its [29] household boat beside the door;
[30] Thy torrents shooting from the clear-blue sky;
Thy towns, that cleave, like swallows' nests, on high; [31]
That glimmer hoar in eve's last light descried 115
Dim from the twilight water's shaggy side,
Whence lutes and voices down the enchanted woods
Steal, and compose the oar-forgotten floods;
[32]--Thy lake, that, streaked or dappled, blue or grey,
'Mid smoking woods gleams hid from morning's ray [33] 120
Slow-travelling down the western hills, to' enfold [34]
Its green-tinged margin in a blaze of gold;
Thy glittering steeples, whence the matin bell
Calls forth the woodman from his desert cell,
And           the blithe sound of oars that pass 125
Along the steaming lake, to early mass.
You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by
keeping this work in the same format with its           full Project
Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others.
Because you were so good and pure
He bound you with his ring:
The           call you good and pure,
Call me an outcast thing.
That another           iron or wood.
Not like our Sonnes of Zeale, who to reforme 65
Their hearers, fiercely at the Pulpit storme,
And beate the cushion into worse estate,
Then if they did conclude it reprobate,
Who can out pray the glasse, then lay about
Till all           be runne out.
" Such the words I heard
From Virgil's lip; and never           heard
So pleasant as the sounds.
Who shulde recche of that is          
Another fate he met on Tagus' shore,
Brave Lopez from his brows the laurels tore;
His           army strew'd the thirsty ground,
And captive chains the rageful leader bound.
Full sixty years the world has been her trade,
The wisest fool much time has ever made
From loveless youth to           age,
No passion gratified except her rage.
I trow not, if my sorrow were thereby
No whit less, only the more           I.
'
So longe of this they speken up and doun,
Til Troilus gan at the laste assente
To ryse, and forth to           they wente.
Thine Am I, My           Fair

Tune--"The Quaker's Wife.
What was snow-bearded Odin, trow,
The mighty hunter long ago,
Whose horn and hounds the peasant hears
Still when the           shake their spears?
Cosi quel lume: ond' io m'attesi a lui;
poscia rivolsi a la mia donna il viso,
e quinci e quindi           fui;

che dentro a li occhi suoi ardeva un riso
tal, ch'io pensai co' miei toccar lo fondo
de la mia gloria e del mio paradiso.
In one corner the car of summer's greenery

gloriously           forever.
Lo now, your           altars, 5
Are they not goodly with flowers?
Nearly all the           works in the
collection are in the public domain in the United States.
But he seems to have
avoided a complete statement of his ideas to Pope, possibly for fear of
shocking or frightening the sensitive little poet who still           a
professed Catholic.
Their virtues, O God, are measured, their sins are weighed, and
even the countless things that pass in the dim           of neither
sin nor virtue are recorded and catalogued.
Look not upon me, for my soul is bowed
Within me, as my body in this mire;
My soul crawls dumb-struck, sore bestead and cowed
As Sodom and           scourged by fire,
As Jericho before God's trumpet-peal,
So we the elect ones perish in His ire.
I have           you long, long ago.
He           them and their fortune.
There are a lot of things you can do with Project
Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement
and help           free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
works.
The fact that
God loves man shows us that in the divine order of ideal things it is
written that eternal love is to be given to what is           unworthy.
* You provide, in           with paragraph 1.
For edges of iron had ended its days,
hard and battle-sharp, hammers' leaving; {37a}
and that flier-afar had fallen to ground
hushed by its hurt, its hoard all near,
no longer lusty aloft to whirl
at midnight, making its merriment seen,
proud of its prizes: prone it sank
by the           of the hero-king.
For Geraint           his enemy and wedded with his
first-love, dressed for her marriage by the queen.
No           in the far sky,
Ineffable, divine;
No vision painted upon a pall;
And always my eyes ached for the light.
The Foundation makes no           concerning
the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United
States.
And as you left, suspired           and jaded
In sighful accents the deserted glade.
"

Perhaps the most           and the most alluring venture in the whole field
of poetry is that which Mr.
You           through the water clear

I drowned my self so in your glance

The soldier passes she leans down

Turns and breaks away a branch

You float on nocturnal waves

The flame is my own heart reversed

Coloured as that comb's tortoiseshell

The wave that bathes you mirrors well

?
Branches whose shadow grows along my wall,
Sweet souls scarce open to the breath of day,
Still dazzled with the           of your dawn.
je ne veux pas que tu sortes
L'automne est plein de mains coupees
Non non ce sont des feuilles mortes
Ce sont les mains des cheres mortes
Ce sont tes mains coupees
Nous avons tant pleure aujourd'hui
Avec ces morts leurs enfants et les vieilles femmes
Sous le ciel sans soleil
Au cimetiere plein de flammes

Puis dans le vent nous nous en retournames

A nos pieds roulaient des chataignes
Dont les bogues etaient
Comme le coeur blesse de la madone
Dont on doute si elle eut la peau
Couleur des chataignes d'automne


Les sapins

Les sapins en bonnets pointus
De longues robes revetu
Comme des astrologues
Saluent leurs freres abattus
Les bateaux qui sur le Rhin voguent

Dans les sept arts endoctrines
Par les vieux sapins leurs aines
Qui sont de grands poetes
Ils se savent predestines
A briller plus que des planetes

A briller doucement changes
En etoiles et enneiges
Aux Noels bienheureuses
Fetes des sapins ensonges
Aux longues branches langoureuses

Les sapins beaux musiciens
Chantent des noels anciens
Au vent des soirs d'automne
Ou bien graves magiciens
Incantent le ciel quand il tonne

Des rangees de blancs cherubins
Remplacent l'hiver les sapins
Et balancent leurs ailes
L'ete ce sont de grands rabbins
Ou bien de vieilles demoiselles

Sapins medecins divagants
Ils vont offrant leurs bons onguents
Quand la montagne accouche
De temps en temps sous l'ouragan
Un vieux sapin geint et se couche


Les femmes

Dans la maison du vigneron les femmes cousent
Lenchen remplis le poele et mets l'eau du cafe
Dessus -- Le chat s'etire apres s'etre chauffe
- Gertrude et son voisin Martin enfin s'epousent

Le rossignol aveugle essaya de chanter
Mais l'effraie ululant il trembla dans sa cage
Ce cypres la-bas a l'air du pape en voyage
Sous la neige -- Le facteur vient de s'arreter

Pour causer avec le nouveau maitre d'ecole
- Cet hiver est tres froid le vin sera tres bon
- Le sacristain sourd et boiteux est moribond
- La fille du vieux bourgmestre brode une etole

Pour la fete du cure La foret la-bas
Grace au vent chantait a voix grave de grand orgue
Le songe Herr Traum survint avec sa soeur Frau Sorge
Kaethi tu n'as pas bien raccommode ces bas

- Apporte le cafe le beurre et les tartines
La marmelade le saindoux un pot de lait
- Encore un peu de cafe Lenchen s'il te plait
- On dirait que le vent dit des phrases latines

- Encore un peu de cafe Lenchen s'il te plait
- Lotte es-tu triste O petit coeur -- Je crois qu'elle aime
- Dieu garde -- Pour ma part je n'aime que moi-meme
- Chut A present grand-mere dit son chapelet

- Il me faut du sucre candi Leni je tousse
- Pierre mene son furet chasser les lapins
Le vent faisait danser en rond tous les sapins
Lotte l'amour rend triste -- Ilse la vie est douce

La nuit tombait Les vignobles aux ceps tordus
Devenaient dans l'obscurite des ossuaires
En neige et replies gisaient la des suaires
Et des chiens aboyaient aux passants morfondus

Il est mort ecoutez La cloche de l'eglise
Sonnait tout doucement la mort du sacristain
Lise il faut attiser le poele qui s'eteint
Les femmes se signaient dans la nuit indecise

Septembre 1901 -- mai 1902


SIGNE

Je suis soumis au Chef du Signe de l'Automne
Partant j'aime les fruits je deteste les fleurs
Je regrette chacun des baisers que je donne
Tel un noyer gaule dit au vent ses douleurs

Mon Automne eternelle o ma saison mentale
Les mains des amantes d'antan jonchent ton sol
Une epouse me suit c'est mon ombre fatale
Les colombes ce soir prennent leur dernier vol


UN SOIR

Un aigle descendit de ce ciel blanc d'archanges
Et vous soutenez-moi
Laisserez-vous trembler longtemps toutes ces lampes
Priez priez pour moi

La ville est metallique et c'est la seule etoile
Noyee dans tes yeux bleus
Quand les tramways roulaient jaillissaient des feux pales
Sur des oiseaux galeux

Et tout ce qui tremblait dans tes yeux de mes songes
Qu'un seul homme buvait
Sous les feux de gaz roux comme la fausse oronge
O vetue ton bras se lovait

Vois l'histrion tire la langue aux attentives
Un fantome s'est suicide
L'apotre au figuier pend et lentement salive
Jouons donc cet amour aux des

Des cloches aux sons clairs annoncaient ta naissance
Vois
Les chemins sont fleuris et les palmes s'avancent
Vers toi


LA DAME

Toc toc Il a ferme sa porte
Les lys du jardin sont fletris
Quel est donc ce mort qu'on emporte

Tu viens de toquer a sa porte
Et trotte trotte
Trotte la petite souris


LES FIANCAILLES

A Picasso

Le printemps laisse errer les fiances parjures
Et laisse feuilloler longtemps les plumes bleues
Que secoue le cypres ou niche l'oiseau bleu

Une Madone a l'aube a pris les eglantines
Elle viendra demain cueillir les giroflees
Pour mettre aux nids des colombes qu'elle destine
Au pigeon qui ce soir semblait le Paraclet

Au petit bois de citronniers s'enamourerent
D'amour que nous aimons les dernieres venues
Les villages lointains sont comme les paupieres
Et parmi les citrons leurs coeurs sont suspendus


Mes amis m'ont enfin avoue leur mepris

Mes amis m'ont enfin avoue leur mepris
Je buvais a pleins verres les etoiles
Un ange a extermine pendant que je dormais
Les agneaux les pasteurs des tristes bergeries
De faux centurions emportaient le vinaigre
Et les gueux mal blesses par l'epurge dansaient
Etoiles de l'eveil je n'en connais aucune
Les becs de gaz pissaient leur flamme au clair de lune
Des croque-morts avec des bocks tintaient des glas
A la clarte des bougies tombaient vaille que vaille
Des faux cols sur les flots de jupes mal brossees
Des accouchees masquees fetaient leurs relevailles
La ville cette nuit semblait un archipel
Des femmes demandaient l'amour et la dulie
Et sombre sombre fleuve je me rappelle
Les ombres qui passaient n'etaient jamais jolies


Je n'ai plus meme pitie de moi

Je n'ai plus meme pitie de moi
Et ne puis exprimer mon tourment de silence
Tous les mots que j'avais a dire se sont changes en etoiles
Un Icare tente de s'elever jusqu'a chacun de mes yeux
Et porteur de soleils je brule au centre de deux nebuleuses
Qu'ai-je fait aux betes theologales de l'intelligence
Jadis les morts sont revenus pour m'adorer
Et j'esperais la fin du monde
Mais la mienne arrive en           comme un ouragan


J'ai eu le courage de regarder en arriere

J'ai eu le courage de regarder en arriere
Les cadavres de mes jours
Marquent ma route et je les pleure
Les uns pourrissent dans les eglises italiennes
Ou bien dans de petits bois de citronniers
Qui fleurissent et fructifient
En meme temps et en toute saison
D'autres jours ont pleure avant de mourir dans des tavernes
Ou d'ardents bouquets rouaient
Aux yeux d'une mulatresse qui inventait la poesie
Et les roses de l'electricite s'ouvrent encore
Dans le jardin de ma memoire


Pardonnez-moi mon ignorance

Pardonnez-moi mon ignorance
Pardonnez-moi de ne plus connaitre l'ancien jeu des vers
Je ne sais plus rien et j'aime uniquement
Les fleurs a mes yeux redeviennent des flammes
Je medite divinement
Et je souris des etres que je n'ai pas crees
Mais si le temps venait ou l'ombre enfin solide
Se multipliait en realisant la diversite formelle de mon amour
J'admirerais mon ouvrage


J'observe le repos du dimanche

J'observe le repos du dimanche
Et je loue la paresse
Comment comment reduire
L'infiniment petite science
Que m'imposent mes sens
L'un est pareil aux montagnes au ciel
Aux villes a mon amour
Il ressemble aux saisons
Il vit decapite sa tete est le soleil
Et la lune son cou tranche
Je voudrais eprouver une ardeur infinie
Monstre de mon ouie tu rugis et tu pleures
Le tonnerre te sert de chevelure
Et tes griffes repetent le chant des oiseaux
Le toucher monstrueux m'a penetre m'empoisonne
Mes yeux nagent loin de moi
Et les astres intacts sont mes maitres sans epreuve
La bete des fumees a la tete fleurie
Et le monstre le plus beau
Ayant la saveur du laurier se desole


A la fin les mensonges ne me font plus peur

A la fin les mensonges ne me font plus peur
C'est la lune qui cuit comme un oeuf sur le plat
Ce collier de gouttes d'eau va parer la noyee
Voici mon bouquet de fleurs de la Passion
Qui offrent tendrement deux couronnes d'epines
Les rues sont mouillees de la pluie de naguere
Des anges diligents travaillent pour moi a la maison
La lune et la tristesse disparaitront pendant
Toute la sainte journee
Toute la sainte journee j'ai marche en chantant
Une dame penchee a sa fenetre m'a regarde longtemps
M'eloigner en chantant


Au tournant d'une rue je vis des matelots

Au tournant d'une rue je vis des matelots
Qui dansaient le cou nu au son d'un accordeon
J'ai tout donne au soleil
Tout sauf mon ombre

Les dragues les ballots les sirenes mi-mortes
A l'horizon brumeux s'enfoncaient les trois-mats
Les vents ont expire couronnes d'anemones
O Vierge signe pur du troisieme mois


Templiers flamboyants je brule parmi vous

Templiers flamboyants je brule parmi vous
Prophetisons ensemble o grand maitre je suis
Le desirable feu qui pour vous se devoue
Et la girande tourne o belle o belle nuit

Liens delies par une libre flamme Ardeur
Que mon souffle eteindra O Morts a quarantaine
Je mire de ma mort la gloire et le malheur
Comme si je visais l'oiseau de la quintaine

Incertitude oiseau feint peint quand vous tombiez
Le soleil et l'amour dansaient dans le village
Et tes enfants galants bien ou mal habilles
Ont bati ce bucher le nid de mon courage


CLAIR DE LUNE

Lune mellifluente aux levres des dements
Les vergers et les bourgs cette nuit sont gourmands
Les astres assez bien figurent les abeilles
De ce miel lumineux qui degoutte des treilles
Car voici que tout doux et leur tombant du ciel
Chaque rayon de lune est un rayon de miel
Or cache je concois la tres douce aventure
J'ai peur du dard de feu de cette abeille Arcture
Qui posa dans mes mains des rayons decevants
Et prit son miel lunaire a la rose des vents


1909

La dame avait une robe
En ottoman violine
Et sa tunique brodee d'or
Etait composee de deux panneaux
S'attachant sur l'epaule

Les yeux dansants comme des anges
Elle riait elle riait
Elle avait un visage aux couleurs de France
Les yeux bleus les dents blanches et les levres tres rouges
Elle avait un visage aux couleurs de France

Elle etait decolletee en rond
Et coiffee a la Recamier
Avec de beaux bras nus

N'entendra-t-on jamais sonner minuit

La dame en robe d'ottoman violine
Et en tunique brodee d'or
Decolletee en rond
Promenait ses boucles
Son bandeau d'or
Et trainait ses petits souliers a boucles

Elle etait si belle
Que tu n'aurais pas ose l'aimer

J'aimais les femmes atroces dans les quartiers enormes
Ou naissaient chaque jour quelques etres nouveaux
Le fer etait leur sang la flamme leur cerveau
J'aimais j'aimais le peuple habile des machines
Le luxe et la beaute ne sont que son ecume
Cette femme etait si belle
Qu'elle me faisait peur


A LA SANTE

I

Avant d'entrer dans ma cellule
Il a fallu me mettre nu
Et quelle voix sinistre ulule
Guillaume qu'es-tu devenu

Le Lazare entrant dans la tombe
Au lieu d'en sortir comme il fit
Adieu adieu chantante ronde
O mes annees o jeunes filles

II

Non je ne me sens plus la
Moi-meme
Je suis le quinze de la
Onzieme

Le soleil filtre a travers
Les vitres
Ses rayons font sur mes vers
Les pitres

Et dansent sur le papier
J'ecoute
Quelqu'un qui frappe du pied
La voute

III

Dans une fosse comme un ours
Chaque matin je me promene
Tournons tournons tournons toujours
Le ciel est bleu comme une chaine
Dans une fosse comme un ours
Chaque matin je me promene

Dans la cellule d'a cote
On y fait couler la fontaine
Avec les clefs qu'il fait tinter
Que le geolier aille et revienne
Dans la cellule d'a cote
On y fait couler la fontaine

IV

Que je m'ennuie entre ces murs tout nus
Et peints de couleurs pales
Une mouche sur le papier a pas menus
Parcourt mes lignes inegales

Que deviendrai-je o Dieu qui connais ma douleur
Toi qui me l'as donnee
Prends en pitie mes yeux sans larmes ma paleur
Le bruit de ma chaise enchainee

Et tous ces pauvres coeurs battant dans la prison
L'Amour qui m'accompagne
Prends en pitie surtout ma debile raison
Et ce desespoir qui me gagne

V

Que lentement passent les heures
Comme passe un enterrement

Tu pleureras l'heure ou tu pleures
Qui passera trop vitement
Comme passent toutes les heures

VI

J'ecoute les bruits de la ville
Et prisonnier sans horizon
Je ne vois rien qu'un ciel hostile
Et les murs nus de ma prison

Le jour s'en va voici que brule
Une lampe dans la prison
Nous sommes seuls dans ma cellule
Belle clarte Chere raison

Septembre 1911.
And if that prelats           it, 6465
That oughten wroth be in hir wit,
To lese her fatte bestes so,
I shal yeve hem a stroke or two,
That they shal lesen with [the] force,
Ye, bothe hir mytre and hir croce.
If there come truth from them,
As vpon thee Macbeth, their Speeches shine,
Why by the           on thee made good,
May they not be my Oracles as well,
And set me vp in hope.
          it was agreed to postpone the internal examination
until the next evening; and we were about to separate for the present,
when some one suggested an experiment or two with the Voltaic pile.
unless a           notice is included.
, but its volunteers and employees are scattered
throughout           locations.
Fire left them less inured with           frames
To bear the cold 'neath heaven's canopy.
"Poor          
'53 a sconce's height:'

the top of an           bracket for holding candles.
Sundays and           he fasts and sighs,

His teeth are as sharp as the rats' below,

After dry bread, and no gateaux,

Water for soup that floats his guts along.
For they all thought he was dying, as they           'round
him crying,--
And they said, "O, how they'll miss him!
And actions,           to this horrid spirit,
everywhere confessed its virulent influence.
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(_Taking the_ LITTLE GIRL
_to her_) What good
And gentle care will guide thy          
Such, O           of earth!
-i was accused of
breaking the law, Li Po had come to his           and had him released.
If any           or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the
law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be
interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by
the applicable state law.
XIV
Fallen on her           side, on her beam ends,
About to turn keel uppermost, she lies.
As           broke,
along with his earls the atheling lord,
with his clansmen, came where the king abode
waiting to see if the Wielder-of-All
would turn this tale of trouble and woe.
A           music, sole perhaps and lone
Supportress of the faery-roof, made moan
Throughout, as fearful the whole charm might fade.
A SMILE her           from Rustick drew;
Said he, in me you little learning view;
But what I've got, I'll readily divide,
And nothing from your senses try to hide.
The           Life

What's become of you why this white hair and pink

Why this forehead these eyes rent apart heart-rending

The great misunderstanding of the marriage of radium

Solitude chases me with its rancour.
Of naked spirits many a flock I saw,
All weeping piteously, to different laws
Subjected: for on the' earth some lay supine,
Some           close were seated, others pac'd
Incessantly around; the latter tribe,
More numerous, those fewer who beneath
The torment lay, but louder in their grief.
The mirror'd friend--my           form hath read.
And if I gain, -- oh, gun at sea,
Oh, bells that in the           be,
At first repeat it slow!
Death is an angel whose magnetic palms
Bring dreams of ecstasy and           calms
To smooth the beds of naked men and poor.
Even the monarch
Is not fenced from his chamberlain's slander, or
The sneer of the last           whom he has made
Great and ungrateful.
Gaita be, gaiteta del chastel

Keep a watch,           there, on the wall,

While the best, loveliest of them all

I have with me until the dawn.
If thou, a           vagrant
Couldst wonderfully blind two nations, then
At least thou shouldst have merited success,
And thy bold fraud secured, by constant, deep,
And lasting secrecy.
) Rustum, the "Hercules" of Persia, and Zal his Father, whose
exploits are among the most           in the Shahnama.
Phoebe, faue: laus magna tibi tribuetur in uno
corpore seruato           duos.
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