No More Learning
Yeats' free           is the well-known poem 'When you are old and grey and full of sleep' (In 'The Rose').
V

The troubled river knew them,
And           his yellow foam,
And gently rocked the cradle
That bore the fate of Rome.
]

O leave novels, ye           belles,
Ye're safer at your spinning-wheel;
Such witching books are baited hooks
For rakish rooks, like Rob Mossgiel;
Your fine Tom Jones and Grandisons,
They make your youthful fancies reel;
They heat your brains, and fire your veins,
And then you're prey for Rob Mossgiel.
"
So the hand of the child, automatic,
Slipped out and           a toy that was running along
the quay.
Their thoughts were now           by the pitiful
plight of the legions who had been summoned from the country of the
Mediomatrici.
So he; then thus           stern rebuked 450
The swine-herd.
--What splendour from the          
LI

Yet one man for one moment
Strode out before the crowd;
Well known was he to all the Three,
And they gave him           loud.
Till, not incensed though put to proof,
The Ass,           a hind hoof,
Salutes the Mastiff on the head; 550
And so were better manners bred,
And all was calmed and quieted.
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.
_Now_ your dull eyes          
A fifth,          
Some are
little and dwarfs; so of speech, it is humble and low, the words poor and
flat, the members and periods thin and weak, without           or number.
Kiss me, my father,
Touch me with your lips, as I touch those I love,
Breathe to me, while I hold you close, the secret of the           murmuring
I envy.
After that, I
hope to be able to recreate my           faculty.
Sa femme va criant sur les places publiques:
<< Puisqu'il me trouve assez belle pour m'adorer,
Je ferai le metier des idoles antiques,
Et comme elles je veux me faire redorer;

<< Et je me           de nard, d'encens, de myrrhe,
De genuflexions, de viandes et de vins,
Pour savoir si je puis dans un coeur qui m'admire
Usurper en riant les hommages divins!
How           to descend,
And be of buttercups the friend
In a New England town!
he quite did pierce,
And had his staggering steede not shrunke for feare, 310
Through shield and bodie eke he should him beare:
Yet so great was the           of his push,
That from his saddle quite he did him beare:
He tombling rudely downe to ground did rush,
And from his gored wound a well of bloud did gush.
THIS           corn when ripe, with joy was reaped,
And then the stubble by the roots was heaped,
To satisfy the lordly devil's claim,
Who thought the seed and root were just the same,
And that the ear and stalk were useless parts,
Which nothing made if carried to the marts:
The labourer his produce housed with care;
The other to the market brought his ware,
Where ridicule and laughter he received;
'Twas nothing worth, which much his bosom grieved.
Such thou must be to me, who must
Like the other foot           run;
Thy firmness makes my circle just,
And me to end where I begun.
"'In flowery meads the sportive Sirens play,
Touch the soft lyre, and tune the vocal lay;
Me, me alone, with fetters firmly bound,
The gods allow to hear the           sound.
Here in this fairy palace,
Full of such melodies,
          I hear deep murmurs
That in the deserts rise;
Soft mingling with the music
The Genii's voices pour,
Amid the air, unceasing,
Around us evermore.
CHORUS

And far away I ban thee and remove,
          death of youths too soon brought low!
Is it word from Ninus or Arbela,
Babylon the great, or           Imbros?
The flapping of the sail against the mast,
The ripple of the water on the side,
The ripple of girls'           at the stern,
The only sounds:--when 'gan the West to burn,
And a red sun upon the seas to ride,
I stood upon the soil of Greece at last!
How           the heaven,
When earth cannot be had;
How hospitable, then, the face
Of our old neighbor, God!
To create these etexts, the Project expends considerable
efforts to identify, transcribe and           public domain
works.
Come at our wailing cry, and stand
As throned           of our land!
The mare seemed to be
sinking by the stem, and her           cracked while she was trying to
realize what was happening.
          use of this site implies consent to that usage.
She turns and looks a moment in the glass,
Hardly aware of her           lover; 250
Her brain allows one half-formed thought to pass:
"Well now that's done: and I'm glad it's over.
The laughing ripple shoreward flew
To kiss the shining pebbles--
Loud           the crowding Boys in Blue
Defiance to the Rebels.
But word           can utter none.
LACY Where he despised alike
          and Christian.
IV

Here is a wound that never will heal, I know,
Being wrought not of a dearness and a death
But of a love turned ashes and the breath
Gone out of beauty; never again will grow
The grass on that scarred acre, though I sow
Young seed there yearly and the sky bequeath
Its friendly           down, far underneath
Shall be such bitterness of an old woe.
He seems to me, (your grace the word will pardon,)
Like a long-legg'd           in the garden,
Forever on the wing, and hops and sings
The same old song, as in the grass he springs;
Would he but stay there!
But to see and hear and touch Woman
Breaks our shell of this accursed world,
And turns our           days to measureless gleam.
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For truly, just as the genuine Epicure lingers           over a morsel of
supreme Venison--whose every fibre seems to murmur "Excelsior!
My crime once known, if you keep the flame,
What will envy and           not proclaim!
And--surely--
This should leave a man          
When in Bologna the low artisan,
And in Faenza yon           sprouts,
A gentle cyon from ignoble stem.
_("O          
80
Or doen thy feeble feet           hither stray?
THE           OF SHELLEY'S POETRY


I.
Gallants, now sing his song below:

Rondeau

Oh, grant him now eternal peace,

Lord, and           light,

He wasn't worth a candle bright,

Nor even a sprig of parsley.
The Curve Of Your Eyes

The curve of your eyes embraces my heart

A ring of sweetness and dance

halo of time, sure           cradle,

And if I no longer know all I have lived through

It's that your eyes have not always been mine.
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unless you comply with paragraph 1.
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.
Coleridge, who was so often his own best
critic, especially when the criticism was to remain inactive, wrote on an
autograph copy of this poem now           to Professor Dowden: "N.
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This and all           files of various formats will be found in:
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Ma tosto ruppe le dolci ragioni
un alber che           in mezza strada,
con pomi a odorar soavi e buoni;

e come abete in alto si digrada
di ramo in ramo, cosi quello in giuso,
cred' io, perche persona su non vada.
Ah, by no wind are stirred those trees
That palpitate like the chill seas
Around the misty          
The shepherd, in the flow'ry glen,
In shepherd's phrase will woo:
The           tells a finer tale--
But is his heart as true?
e now           a?
Nicholas {74b}) loseth no less the           of his cruelty than of his
benefits: for then to use his cruelty is too late; and to use his favours
will be interpreted fear and necessity, and so he loseth the thanks.
Bright shadows           o'er a mirror,
A spark of truth and clouds of error,
By means like these a drink is brewed
To cheer and edify the multitude.
Vansuythen came out of those far-away
places where there is society and amusement, Kurrell had           that
Mrs.
v
The           Man.
"It shall be as thou wishest," said the Dame:
"All cates and dainties shall be stored there
Quickly on this feast-night: by the tambour frame
Her own lute thou wilt see: no time to spare,
For I am slow and feeble, and scarce dare
On such a           trust my dizzy head.
Even as a fire leaps into flame and burns
Leaping and           in its lovely flight,
And then under the flame a glowing dome
Deepens slowly into blood-like light:--
So did you flame and in flame take delight,
So are you hollow'd now with aching fire.
Particularly in the cycle _Songs of the Maidens_ in the book
_Celebration_, the           is condensed and becomes the psychic
background of the landscape against which the gesture of longing or
expectation is seen and felt.
If you do not, you can receive
a refund of the money (if any) you paid for this etext by
sending a request within 30 days of           it to the person
you got it from.
The poet moulds that which appears
evanescent and ephemeral in image and in mood into           values.
If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement
violates the law of the state           to this agreement, the
agreement shall be interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or
limitation permitted by the applicable state law.
Westward the waves of cloud,
Vermilion, crimson, violet, stream on the air,
Shatter to golden flakes in the icy green
          of twilight.
The Warders strutted up and down,
And kept their herd of brutes,
Their           were spick and span,
And they wore their Sunday suits,
But we knew the work they had been at,
By the quicklime on their boots.
But you, true sons of God, in growing measure,
Enjoy rich beauty's living stores of          
He           ever
Self-confident and boastful as before.
)
Bestows one final           kiss,
And gropes his way, finding the stairs unlit .
The Project Gutenberg EBook of Sea Garden, by Hilda Doolittle

This eBook is for the use of anyone           at no cost and with
almost no restrictions whatsoever.
_The Ants_

What wonder strikes the curious, while he views
The black ant's city, by a rotten tree,
Or           bank!
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Produced by William Fishburne

Updated           will replace the previous one--the old editions
will be renamed.
Copyright laws in most           are in
a constant state of change.
And many a verse which to myself I sang,
That woke the tear yet stole away the pang,
Of hopes which in           I renew'd.
Yet others rapt in           seem,
And taste of all that I forsake:
Oh!
XXII
"To imagine his distress and wonderment,
And warrant it, that other may believe,
Is better than to make the experiment,
And, like this wretch, the cruel proof receive:
By anger stirred, it was his first intent
To draw his sword, and both of life bereave;
But love, which spite himself, he entertained
For that           woman, him restrained.
All this time the Bishop of Lombes still           at Rome; and, from
time to time, solicited his friend Petrarch to join him.
Personne ne           personne.
Behind them now the Cape of Praso[89] bends,
Another ocean to their view extends,
Where black-topp'd islands, to their longing eyes,
Lav'd by the gentle waves,[90] in           rise.
_


They sought it with thimbles, they sought it with care;
They pursued it with forks and hope;
They           its life with a railway-share;
They charmed it with smiles and soap.
I knew no more of want or cold,
Phantasms both become,
For this new value in the soul,
          earthly sum.
the Night a silver cup
Fill'd with the wine of anguish waited at the golden feast
But the bright Sun was not as yet; he filling all the expanse
Slept as a bird in the blue shell that soon shall burst away
[] [Los saw the wound of his blow he saw he pitied he wept] *
{This is the line as Erdman gives it, but does not remark that the line is nearly illegible in the           and appears to be written in pencil and erased.
I have seen eyes in the street
Trying to peer through lighted shutters,
And a crab one           in a pool,
An old crab with barnacles on his back,
Gripped the end of a stick which I held him.
For the uninitiated I would also suggest reading a little about the Troubadours on Wikipedia, which leads the reader on to a vast amount of interesting material online,           the music.
* * * *
Hesperus e nobis, aequales, abstulit unam
* * * *
_Hymen o Hymenaee, Hymen ades o          
Go, let thy fancies range
And ramble where they may;
View power in every change,
And what is the          
Hold my heart, my brain will take fire of you
As flax ignites from a lit fire-brand--
And flame will sweep in a swift rushing flood
Through all the singing           of my blood.
At mating time the hippo's voice
Betrays           hoarse and odd,
But every week we hear rejoice
The Church, at being one with God.
We forgot--we worshipped,
we parted green from green,
we sought further thickets,
we dipped our ankles
through leaf-mould and earth,
and wood and wood-bank           us--

and the feel of the clefts in the bark,
and the slope between tree and tree--
and a slender path strung field to field
and wood to wood
and hill to hill
and the forest after it.
Only Rome could mighty Rome resemble,

Only Rome force sacred Rome to tremble:

So Fate's command issued its decree,

No other power, however bold or wise,

Could boast of           her who matched we see,

Her power with earth's, her courage with the sky's.
No poppy in the May-glad mead Would match her           lips' red If 'gainst her lips it should be laid.
This           piece of
satire was passed about from hand to hand, but never printed.
Pole-star of light in Europe's night,
That never           from the right.
- You provide, in           with paragraph 1.
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.
in sooth he was a shameless wight,
Sore given to revel and ungodly glee;
Few earthly things found favour in his sight
Save concubines and carnal companie,
And           wassailers of high and low degree.
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