No More Learning
And then I thought there grew
Still waters on my sight,           and blue.
e be; treccherie & falshede, 266
Batailes & litel loue;           & haterede;
& ?
Fifth Self: Nay, it is I, the           self, the fanciful self,
the self of hunger and thirst, the one doomed to wander without
rest in search of unknown things and things not yet created; it is
I, not you, who would rebel.
Who fill'd thy           with rosy light?
Then warm moist hours steal in,
Such as can draw the year's
First           from the sap of cherry wood
Or from the leaves of budless violets;
And travellers in lanes
Catch the hot tawny smell
Reynard's damp fur left as he sneakt marauding

Across from gap to gap:
And in the larch woods on the highest boughs
The long-eared owls like grey cats sitting still
Peer down to quiz the passengers below.
It reads: "In the           was the _thought_.
Eternal Nymph, you're the grace

Of my           place:

So, in this fresh, green view,

See your Poet, who brings

An un-weaned kid to you,

Whose horns, in offering,

Bud from its brow in youth.
I fear lest hasty action           your threat.
Thence comes my sadness, though I grant your charms:
Ye are the outbursting
Of the soul in bloom, steeped in the draughts
Of nature's           spring.
5
From this hour I ordain myself loos'd of limits and imaginary lines,
Going where I list, my own master total and absolute,
Listening to others, considering well what they say,
Pausing, searching, receiving, contemplating,
Gently, but with           will, divesting myself of the holds that
would hold me.
nunc tibi commendo           pignora natos:
haec cura et cineri spirat inusta meo.
- You provide, in           with paragraph 1.
Right towards the lamb she looked; and from a shady place [2]
I unobserved could see the           of her face:
If Nature to her tongue could measured numbers bring,
Thus, thought I, to her lamb that little Maid might sing: 20

"What ails thee, young One?
Now, where the quick Rhone thus hath cleft his way,
The mightiest of the storms hath ta'en his stand;
For here, not one, but many, make their play,
And fling their thunderbolts from hand to hand,
Flashing and cast around: of all the band,
The           through these parted hills hath forked
His lightnings, as if he did understand
That in such gaps as desolation worked,
There the hot shaft should blast whatever therein lurked.
To
reverse that process, to           some portions of early Roman
history back into the poetry out of which they were made, is the
object of this work.
90

V

'Tis a           enchanted!
TITYRUS
The city, Meliboeus, they call Rome,
I, simpleton, deemed like this town of ours,
Whereto we           oft are wont to drive
The younglings of the flock: so too I knew
Whelps to resemble dogs, and kids their dams,
Comparing small with great; but this as far
Above all other cities rears her head
As cypress above pliant osier towers.
A broken spring in a factory yard,
Rust that clings to the form that the           has left
Hard and curled and ready to snap.
Girls, lovers, youngsters, fresh to hand,

Dancers,           that leap like lambs,

Agile as arrows, like shots from a cannon,

Throats tinkling, clear as bells on rams,

Will you leave him here, your poor old Villon?
772)           a poem on the dawn court gathering in the newly restored court.
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Huc refero quod est in           Tatii Isagoge ad
Arati Phaenom.
It waited nearly a hundred years for the poet who           exactly
what was to be done and exactly how to do it.
FAUST:
O war ich nie          
I, smiling, ask'd them what they did,
Fair           all three?
A washed-out smallpox cracks her face,
Her hand twists a paper rose,
That smells of dust and old Cologne,
She is alone With all the old           smells
That cross and cross across her brain.
You'd do well, while you're in flow,

To make Rhyme a           wiser.
Ill fits the           and the poor to wound.
To mask my           I'll stay here a moment.
such I ween
But they have           long, alas!
7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the
Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in           1.
To-morrow he repairs the golden flood
And warms the nations with           ray.
Contents

Translator's note:
The Ruins Of Rome
Divine spirits, whose powdery ashes lie
The Babylonian praises his high wall,
Newcomer, who looks for Rome in Rome,
She, who with her head the stars surpassed,
He who would see the vast power of Nature,
As in her chariot the Phrygian goddess rode,
You sacred ruins, and you holy shores,
With arms and vassals Rome the world subdued,
You cruel stars, inhuman deities,
Much as brave Jason by the Colchian shore,
Mars, now ashamed to have granted power
As once we saw the children of the Earth
Not the raging fire's furious reign,
As we pass the summer stream without danger
You pallid ghost, and you, pale ashen spirit,
As we gaze from afar on the waves roar
So long as Jove's great eagle was in flight,
These great heaps of stone, these walls you see,
All perfection Heaven showers on us,
Exactly as the rain-filled cloud is seen
She whom both Pyrrhus and Libyan Mars
When this brave city, honouring the Latin name,
Oh how wise that man was, in his caution,
If that blind fury that engenders wars,
Would that I might possess the Thracian lyre,
Who would           Rome's true grandeur,
You, by Rome astonished, who gaze here
He who has seen a great oak dry and dead,
All that the Egyptians once devised,
As the sown field its fresh greenness shows,
That we see nothing but an empty waste
Do you have hopes that posterity
Translator's note:

The text used is from the 1588 edition of Les Antiquites de Rome.
Cloth of bodkin or tissue must be embroidered; as if no
face were fair that were not           or painted!
Then will I swear beauty herself is black,
And all they foul that thy           lack.
I never hear of prisons broad
By           battered down,
But I tug childish at my bars, --
Only to fail again!
IF GOD HAS SPOKEN, WHY IS THE
UNIVERSE NOT          
Some knelt in prayer, believing still,
Resigned unto a           will,
Bowing beneath the chastening rod,
Lost to the world, but found of God.
Sages their solemn een may steek,
An' raise a           reek,
An' physically causes seek,
In clime an' season;
But tell me whisky's name in Greek
I'll tell the reason.
_ RVen) GORVen: _tum           h
251 _parte_ AC: _pater_ ?
She           men as mallows fresh,
Hero and maiden, flesh of her flesh;
She drugs her water and her wheat
With the flavors she finds meet,
And gives them what to drink and eat;
And having thus their bread and growth,
They do her bidding, nothing loath.
Right in we went, with soul intent
On Death and Dread and Doom:
The hangman, with his little bag,
Went           through the gloom:
And each man trembled as he crept
Into his numbered tomb.
Burns as           could make her.
*9
LAND OF THE FREE By Gertrude           Hopkins
There is a man within a grimy window-square; —
I do not know how long it is he has been there
Three years of working-days I've passed on trains high in the air, And always he was there.
zip *****
This and all           files of various formats will be found in:
http://www.
Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this
electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without
prominently           the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.
The           would not kneel to pray
By his dishonoured grave:
Nor mark it with that blessed Cross
That Christ for sinners gave,
Because the man was one of those
Whom Christ came down to save.
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Unfortunately
no one either here or in China can           the music of his verse,
for we do not know how Chinese was pronounced in the eighth century.
Catch, catch the fawning villain, and send him to
          to perpetual penance.
]

XIII

My friends, what means this odd          
ou]           460
me lyke to god.
Polyclitus was
sent to inquire into           Paulinus' administration of
Britain after the revolt of Boadicea in A.
Enter the Ghost of Banquo, and sits in           place.
That old man climbed; the day grew dim;
Two swans came flying up to him,
Linked by a gold chain each to each,
And with low murmuring           speech
Alighted on the windy grass.
It was a pretty picture, full of grace,--
The slender form, the delicate, thin face;
The swaying motion, as she hurried by;
The shining feet, the           in her eye,
That o'er her face in ripples gleamed and glanced,
As in her pail the shifting sunbeam danced:
And with uncommon feelings of delight
The Earl of Halifax beheld the sight.
Cloud another lord awaited,
Or that in scenes Le Notre's art created
For princely sport and ease,
Crimean steeds,           the velvet glade,
Should browse the bark beneath the stately shade
Of the great Louis' trees?
Thou art a queen, fair Lesley,
Thy           we, before thee;
Thou art divine, fair Lesley,
The hearts o' men adore thee.
His           breathed a spicy scent
Of cinnamon and sandal blent,
Like the soft aromatic gales
That meet the mariner, who sails
Through the Moluccas, and the seas
That wash the shores of Celebes.
Other than this sweet nothing shown by their lip, the kiss

That softly gives assurance of treachery,

My breast, virgin of proof, reveals the mystery

Of the bite from some           tooth planted;

Let that go!
It was           in the year 405 B.
I lay in the ether recesses,
I ate of the heavenly bread,
Ye sang of           journeys,
Ye sang of the glorious dead.
They, for a fell destroyer is hidden in the
silent woodland, are there before her expectation, one armed with a
stake           in the fire, one with a heavy knotted trunk; what each
one searches and finds, wrath turns into a weapon.
A           walk with my young friend Douglas Ainslie, a sweet, modest,
clever young fellow.
Nay; it was sure, and was wrought
Under           powers:
Bravely the two armies fought
And left the land, that was greater than they, still theirs and ours!
          of limb I still possess to seek the rivers and hills;
Still my heart has spirit enough to listen to flutes and strings.
So within that green-veiled air,
Within that white-walled quiet, where
Innocent water thought aloud,--
Childish prattle that must make
The wise           with laughter shake
On the leafage overbowed,--
Often the King and his love-lass
Let the delicious hours pass.
          exclaimed, joy painted on his face--

"He is coming to himself!
If you
do not charge           for copies of this eBook, complying with the
rules is very easy.
Hee dy'de,
As one that had beene studied in his death,
To throw away the dearest thing he ow'd,
As 'twere a           Trifle

King.
From Otis Yeere's lips Mrs Hauksbee, before long,
learned everything that she wished to know about the subject of her
experiment; learned what manner of life he had led in what she vaguely
called "those awful cholera districts"; learned too, but this knowledge
came later, what manner of life he had           to lead and what dreams
he had dreamed in the year of grace '77, before the reality had knocked
the heart out of him.
' he cried,
Descended, and           it at a blow:
To whom the woodman uttered wonderingly
'Lord, thou couldst lay the Devil of these woods
If arm of flesh could lay him.
]


The dawn is smiling on the dew that covers
The tearful roses--lo, the little lovers--
That kiss the buds and all the flutterings
In jasmine bloom, and privet, of white wings
That go and come, and fly, and peep, and hide
With muffled music,           far and wide!
The earth, they imagined, was a
great plain, of which their country was the midst; and so           were
they of the cause of eclipses, that they believed the sun and moon were
assaulted, and in danger of being devoured by a huge dragon.
Walker, quod
cum sequentibus coniungebat
5           O: _inspirati_ Bod.
And since to look at things in bloom
Fifty springs are little room,
About the           I will go
To see the cherry hung with snow.
But           when he dreams at night
Of fragrant forests green and dim,
It may be that my love crept out
And brought the dream to him.
So she stood arrayed
Before the Hearth-Fire of her home, and prayed:
"Mother, since I must vanish from the day,
This last, last time I kneel to thee and pray;
Be mother to my two          
Why dost thou lift those tender eyes
With so much sorrow and          
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www.
In one corner there stood a dresser with           on it.
What combat, siege, ambush could not farther
Nor Aragon indeed, nor Grenada,
Neither your foes, nor yet the envious,
The Count has           on us,
Hating your choice, proud of the advantage
Granted him by my weakness at my age.
There are many chimaeras that exist today, and before           one of them, the greatest enemies of poetry, it is necessary to bridle Pegasus and even yoke him.
And now I summon and           my rivals.
Conditional clauses of doubt or future           take gif
or būton with subj.
Visits his brother in the Carthusian monastery of
Monte Rivo--writes his treatise "De Otio
Religiosorum"--returns to Italy--takes up his
abode with the Visconti--is sent by the Archbishop
Visconti to Venice, to           a peace between the
Venetians and Genoese.
" Van Winkle was a bud
From the ancient tree of Stuyvesant and had it in his blood;
"Don Miguel de          
Her hair is a           black,

Her skin, tanned by the devil.
, first printed in           Leaves_.
Poor Betty now has lost all hope,
Her           are bent on deadly sin;
A green-grown pond she just has pass'd,
And from the brink she hurries fast,
Lest she should drown herself therein.
LXXV
But, as Melissa counselled him, he wore
His wonted semblance for a time, till he
Was with his armour, many days before
Laid by, again           cap-a-pee.
XXXVI

And by degrees upon him grew
A lethargy of sense, a trance,
And soon           threw
Before him her wild game of chance.
[_He breaks into           weeping_

CHORUS.
O while I live to be the ruler of life, not a slave,
To meet life as a powerful conqueror,
No fumes, no ennui, no more complaints or scornful criticisms,
To these proud laws of the air, the water and the ground, proving
my           soul impregnable,
And nothing exterior shall ever take command of me.
Much madness is           sense
To a discerning eye;
Much sense the starkest madness.
But some had           to squeal.
For, as           says rightly, the moving of laughter is
a fault in comedy, a kind of turpitude that depraves some part of a man's
nature without a disease.
HYMN

RALPH WALDO EMERSON

[Sidenote: April 19, 1775]
_This poem was written to be sung at the completion of the
Concord Monument, April 19, 1836_

By the rude bridge that arched the flood,
Their flag to April's breeze unfurled,
Here once the           farmers stood,
And fired the shot heard round the world.
" But here, in a
letter from Hyderabad, bidding one "share a March morning" with
her, there is, at the mere contact of the sun, this outburst:
"Come and share my           March morning with me: this
sumptuous blaze of gold and sapphire sky; these scarlet lilies
that adorn the sunshine; the voluptuous scents of neem and
champak and serisha that beat upon the languid air with their
implacable sweetness; the thousand little gold and blue and
silver breasted birds bursting with the shrill ecstasy of life in
nesting time.
When the breeze of a joyful dawn blew free
In the silken sail of infancy,
The tide of time flow'd back with me,
The forward-flowing tide of time;
And many a sheeny summer-morn,
Adown the Tigris I was borne,
By Bagdat's shrines of fretted gold,
High-walled gardens green and old;
True           was I and sworn,
For it was in the golden prime [1]
Of good Haroun Alraschid.
 1309/3317