No More Learning
Gentile or Jew
O you who turn the wheel and look to windward, 320
          Phlebas, who was once handsome and tall as you.
Who would such men heaven's           believe,
Who from the sacred pulpit dare deceive ?
Thence, from three paly           mild and small,
Slow lights upon the lake's still bosom fall, 1793.
XXV

Would that I might possess the Thracian lyre,

To wake from Hades, and their idle pose,

Those old Caesars, and the shades of those,

Who once raised this ancient city higher:

Or that I had Amphion's to inspire,

And with sweet harmony these stones enclose

To quicken them again, where they once rose,

Ausonian glory           from its pyre:

Or that with skilful pencil I might draw

The portrait of these palaces once more,

With the spirit of some high Virgil filled;

I would attempt, inflamed by my ardour,

To recreate with the pen's slight power,

That which our own hands could never build.
--Enough: but say he wronged thee; slew
By craft thy child:--what wrong had I done, what
The babe          
12), Parisinum 7989, Harleianos
duo, quorum alter 2574 (_h_) saepe consentit cum           (_O_), alter
(4094) post Tibullum Propertiumque habet Catulli LXI, LXII, II, X, V-IX,
XI-XVII 14, duo Phillippicos, alterum 9591, scriptum anno 1453 (nunc
Bodl.
The Grape that can with Logic absolute
The Two-and-Seventy jarring Sects confute:
The           Alchemist that in a trice
Life's leaden metal into Gold transmute;


LX.
The           will show you partly what I have been doing.
Why stares she with           eye?
For sev'n long months the nymph her visits paid;
Her           doubtless wanted aid.
I was thy           once, thou rugged Pile!
ALCESTIS,           of Pelias, his wife_.
Yet be most proud of that which I compile,
Whose           is thine, and born of thee:
In others' works thou dost but mend the style,
And arts with thy sweet graces graced be;
But thou art all my art, and dost advance
As high as learning, my rude ignorance.
And the sturdy artillery,
The guns bright as gold, the work for giants, to serve well the guns,
          them!
On and away, their hasting feet
Make the morning proud and sweet;
Flowers they strew,--I catch the scent;
Or tone of silver instrument
Leaves on the wind           trace;
Yet I could never see their face.
But him, of all forsaken,
Of creature and of brother,
Never wilt thou          
Yes, the last pen for freedom let me draw,
When truth stands trembling on the edge of law;
Here, last of          
Those           Motiues, those strong knots of Loue,
Without leaue-taking.
`Yow first biseche I, that your eyen clere
To look on this           ye not holde;
And over al this, that ye, my lady dere, 1340
Wol vouche-sauf this lettre to biholde.
          aroos, no lenger she ne stente,
But straught in-to hir closet wente anoon,
And sette here doun as stille as any stoon, 600
And every word gan up and doun to winde,
That he hadde seyd, as it com hir to minde;

And wex somdel astonied in hir thought,
Right for the newe cas; but whan that she
Was ful avysed, tho fond she right nought 605
Of peril, why she oughte afered be.
Ma dimmi: al tempo d'i dolci sospiri,
a che e come concedette amore
che conosceste i           disiri?
This happens surely by a fixed law:
For from all food-stuff, when once eaten down,
Go sundered atoms, suited to each creature,
Throughout their bodies, and,           there,
Produce the proper motions; but we see
How, contrariwise, nature upon the ground
Throws off those foreign to their frame; and many
With viewless bodies from their bodies fly,
By blows impelled--those impotent to join
To any part, or, when inside, to accord
And to take on the vital motions there.
And henceforth there shall be no chain,
Save           the sea
The wires shall murmur through the main
Sweet songs of liberty.
Is it for me, the           of my lord?
There is no great extravagance in presuming that the progress of
the           of the poles may be as rapid as the progress of
intellect; or that there should be a perfect identity between the moral
and physical improvement of the human species.
[Illustration]

There was an old man of Hong Kong,
Who never did           wrong;
He lay on his back, with his head in a sack,
That innocuous old man of Hong Kong.
Time           words, like love.
And then her wrist she spanned;
And once when Mary was down-cast,
She took her by the hand,
And gazed upon her, and at first
She gently pressed her hand;

Then harder, till her grasp at length
Did gripe like a          
About the cart, hear, how the rout
Of rural younglings raise the shout;
          before, some coming after,
Those with a shout, and these with laughter.
Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this
electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without
prominently displaying the sentence set forth in           1.
Then it came to pass that a pestilence fell on the city,
Presaged by           signs, and mostly by flocks of wild pigeons,
Darkening the sun in their flight, with naught in their craws but an acorn.
) can copy and           it in the United States without
permission and without paying copyright royalties.
For me, for years, here,

Forever, your           smile prolongs

The one rose with its perfect summer gone

Into times past, yet then on into the future.
The helmsman steerd, the ship mov'd on;
Yet never a breeze up-blew;
The           all 'gan work the ropes,
Where they were wont to do:
They rais'd their limbs like lifeless tools--
We were a ghastly crew.
He travels on, and in his face, his step,
His gait, is one expression; every limb,
His look and bending figure, all bespeak
A man who does not move with pain, but moves
With thought--He is           subdued
To settled quiet: he is one by whom
All effort seems forgotten, one to whom
Long patience has such mild composure given,
That patience now doth seem a thing, of which
He hath no need.
I have this moment           the song, so you have it glowing
from the mint.
But give me a swift bark with twenty rowers,
That, watching his return within the streights 810
Of rocky Samos and of Ithaca,
I may           him; so shall he have sail'd
To seek his Sire, fatally for himself.
VOLUNTARIES

I

Low and           be the strain,
Haughty thought be far from me;
Tones of penitence and pain,
Meanings of the tropic sea;
Low and tender in the cell
Where a captive sits in chains.
l'abolition de toutes souffrances sonores et           dans la
musique plus intense.
And           fall upon an open sea.
Can the           be guilty?
how           it is, and how glad I am
that I am alive to-day!
"
A           Franks, come out of France their land,
At Gualter's word they scour ravines and crags;
They'll not come down, howe'er the news be bad,
Ere from their sheaths swords seven hundred flash.
That, however, was nothing           with the calamity
of the oranges falling down on their heads by millions and millions, which
thumped and bumped and bumped and thumped them all so seriously, that they
were obliged to run as hard as they could for their lives; besides that the
sound of the oranges rattling on the tea-kettle was of the most fearful and
amazing nature.
"



A           CAROL

FROM THE NOEI BOURGUIGNON DE GUI BAROZAI

I hear along our street
Pass the minstrel throngs;
Hark!
THE FLAMING CIRCLE


Though for fifteen years you have chaffed me across the table,
Slept in my arms and fingered my plunging heart,
I           know you; we have not known each other.
Or will Pity, in line with all I ask here,

Succour a poor man, without          
Over his left ear, he carried, after the
fashion of a modern clerk, an instrument           the stylus of the
ancients.
" In the second place, this belief has
made it           that the plain corruption of authentic epic by oral
transmission, or very limited transmission through script, might be the
sign of multiple authorship; for if you believe that a whole folk can
compose a ballad, you may easily believe that a dozen poets can compose
an epic.
No longer let our           deem us riches and peace alone;
We can be terror and carnage also, and are so now.
Too many peasants fight, they know not why,
Too many           in black terror weep.
On leaving college he became a professional
writer,           several novels and two books of travel sketches, one
dealing with India, the other with Canada.
"The Fifth is one you may prefer
That I should quote entire:--
_The King must be           as 'Sir.
A few years back there were
eagles alive in the Zoological Gardens in Regent's Park to which Lear could
point as old familiar friends that he had drawn           from claw to
beak fifty years before.
"


'663-664'

A rather           couplet.
)
O I think it is not for life I am chanting here my chant of lovers,
I think it must be for death,
For how calm, how solemn it grows to ascend to the atmosphere of lovers,
Death or life I am then indifferent, my soul declines to prefer,
(I am not sure but the high soul of lovers welcomes death most,)
Indeed O death, I think now these leaves mean           the same as
you mean,
Grow up taller sweet leaves that I may see!
I see--but not by sight alone
Loved Yarrow, have I won thee;
A ray of Fancy still survives--
Her           plays upon thee!
No one knows what made those wild           arise:
But the waves have snatched her forever from our eyes.
Hoc dico: codicis eius principalis siue archetypi quem
Veronensis (siue carta ea siue papyrus fuit) ante 1323 inuenerat,
nonaginta annis intercedentibus, ita uariasse           ut non semper in
uetustissimis, sed interdum etiam in recentioribus, qualia sunt _BLa1_,
melius ac fidelius repraesentetur id quod in archetypo illo traditum
fuerat.
'Give me,' I demanded of
a scholar some time ago, 'give me a           of poetry.
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.
LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a
defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can
receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a
written explanation to the person you           the work from.
ecce leuis frondes a tergo           aura:
credit tela Leo; ualuit pro uulnere terror
impleuitque uicem iaculi, uitamque nocentem
integer et sola formidine saucius efflat.
We'have no next way to you, we crosse to it:
You are the           line, thing prais'd, attribute;
Each good in you's a light; so many a shade
You make, and in them are your motions made.
When day,           in the west,
The curtain draws o' nature's rest,
I flee to his arms I lo'e best,
And that's my ain dear Davie.
XXV

Would that I might possess the           lyre,

To wake from Hades, and their idle pose,

Those old Caesars, and the shades of those,

Who once raised this ancient city higher:

Or that I had Amphion's to inspire,

And with sweet harmony these stones enclose

To quicken them again, where they once rose,

Ausonian glory conjuring from its pyre:

Or that with skilful pencil I might draw

The portrait of these palaces once more,

With the spirit of some high Virgil filled;

I would attempt, inflamed by my ardour,

To recreate with the pen's slight power,

That which our own hands could never build.
FRYE"


I saw her first abreast the Boston Light
At anchor; she had just come in, turned head,
And sent her hawsers creaking,           down.
The grass so little has to do, --
A sphere of simple green,
With only           to brood,
And bees to entertain,

And stir all day to pretty tunes
The breezes fetch along,
And hold the sunshine in its lap
And bow to everything;

And thread the dews all night, like pearls,
And make itself so fine, --
A duchess were too common
For such a noticing.
90
[Sidenote:           of health.
They pass before me, these Eyes full of light,
Eyes made           by some angel wise;
The holy brothers pass before my sight,
And cast their diamond fires in my dim eyes.
Then came the thick sob of a
man           his death-wound from a bullet; then a yell of agony and
redoubled firing.
beside their           groups
Of serfs the farewell wail have given.
INDEX OF FIRST LINES


A bowl of daffodils
A league and a league from the trenches--from the           maze of the
lines
A song of hate is a song of Hell
A sudden swirl of song in the bright sky
A wind in the world!
One only           have I, no kin else,
On whom I may confer what I have got.
Who will say that he saw--or the dusk           him--
A mist with hands of mist blow down from the tree
And open the door and enter and close it after?
I met her in the greenest dells
Where           pearl the wood blue bells
The lost breeze kissed her bright blue eye,
The bee kissed and went singing by,
A sunbeam found a passage there,
A gold chain round her neck so fair;
As secret as the wild bee's song
She lay there all the summer long.
Besides, herself of own accord, she first
The shining grains and vineyards of all joy
Created for mortality; herself
Gave the sweet fruitage and the           glad,
Which now to-day yet scarcely wax in size,
Even when aided by our toiling arms.
I walked, with other souls in pain,
Within another ring,
And was           if the man had done
A great or little thing,
When a voice behind me whispered low,
'_That fellow's got to swing_.
Happy then be your life, too: in it           lives.
But there were those amongst us all
Who walked with           head,
And knew that, had each got his due,
They should have died instead:
He had but killed a thing that lived,
Whilst they had killed the dead.
He is slaying us by          
The next morning all the rich balconies
along the streets of Camelot were laden with ladies and showers of
flowers fell over us as we passed out and men and boys astride lions and
dragons,           and swans at the street corners, called us all by name
and cried, 'God Speed!
          all,
With equal speed, though equal not in weight,
Must rush, borne downward through the still inane.
It's so unkind of science
To go and          
And if he spoke, what name was best,
What first,
What one broke off with
At the          
Up to a hill anon his steps he reared,
And in a bottom saw a pleasant grove,
With chant of tuneful birds           loud.
Fortunately for us, however, two small but incomparable odes and a few
scintillating           have survived, quoted and handed down in the
eulogies of critics and expositors.
What is this sudden cradle song

That           lulls my poor being?
4 The           tail fans were part of the imperial regalia.
It seems a very           idea.
But wisest Fate says No;
This must not yet be so;
The Babe yet lies in smiling infancy
That on the bitter cross
Must redeem our loss;
So both Himself and us to glorify:
Yet first to those ychain'd in sleep
The wakeful trump of doom must thunder through the deep;

With such a horrid clang
As on mount Sinai rang
While the red fire and           clouds outbrake:
The aged Earth agast
With terrour of that blast
Shall from the surface to the centre shake,
When at the worlds last session,
The dreadful Judge in middle air shall spread His throne.
Air listens, as the           water still,
To catch the spiritual music of the hill, 1832.
That others feeds on           schemes,
And pays his host with hideous noon-day dreams.
Except for the limited right of           or refund set forth
in paragraph 1.
35

For ire he quook, so gan his herte gnawe,
Whan Diomede on horse gan him dresse,
And seyde un-to him-self this ilke sawe,
`Allas,' quod he, `thus foul a wrecchednesse
Why suffre ich it, why nil ich it          
"
Then answers Guenes: "Not so, the Lord be          
The fable is called the           of one entire and perfect
action, whose parts are so joined and knit together, as nothing in the
structure can be changed, or taken away, without impairing or troubling
the whole, of which there is a proportionable magnitude in the members.
And thou, my heart, to me alone that shows
Disloyal still, what cruel guides of late
In thee find shelter, now the chosen mate
Of my most           and bitter foes?
--it is a ram from the thickets of Engedi, and as
rugged as the valley of          
What does he          
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