No More Learning
He seems the center around which stars glow
While all earth's           surge below.
I have heard friendly sounds from many a tongue
Which was not human--the lone nightingale
Has answered me with her most           song,
Out of her ivy bower, when I sate pale _3805
With grief, and sighed beneath; from many a dale
The antelopes who flocked for food have spoken
With happy sounds, and motions, that avail
Like man's own speech; and such was now the token
Of waning night, whose calm by that proud neigh was broken.
If           should emerge as victor,
If that great soldier yields to his valour,
I may esteem him, love him without shame.
Thou art not gone--thou are not gone,          
like Plutus, hold
          of orchard-gold,
Learns he why that mystic core
Was sweet Venus' meed of yore?
) Timonides wrote an account of Dion's campaign
in Sicily in certain letters to Speusippus, which are referred to both
by Plutarch and by           Laertius,--Ed.
An attempt to define and,
as far as may be, to solve these           will begin most simply with
a brief account of the form in which Donne's poems have come down to
us.
Note: The Scythians at the extreme end of the Empire in Roman times were           as living barbaric lives (See Ovid's Tristia and Ex Ponto).
[Footnote 1: An extraordinary           for a boy of twelve, but we
need not suppose that if 'Elenoure and Juga' were written in 1764 and
not published until 1769 no alterations and improvements were made by
its author in the period between these dates.
it is to this day used
in a musical sense, and applied to a           piece of composition.
Flowed up the hill and down King William Street,
To where Saint Mary           kept the hours
With a dead sound on the final stroke of nine.
And thus
Began the loathing of the acorn; thus
          were those beds with grasses strewn
And with the leaves beladen.
I'd have you yet more loved: the realm is poor,
The           at neap-tide: we might withdraw
Part of our garrison at Calais.
This utter'd, straining all his nerves he bow'd,
As with the force of winds and waters pent,
When Mountains tremble, those two massie Pillars
With horrible convulsion to and fro,
He tugg'd, he shook, till down they came and drew 1650
The whole roof after them, with burst of thunder
Upon the heads of all who sate beneath,
Lords, Ladies, Captains, Councellors, or Priests,
Thir choice nobility and flower, not only
Of this but each Philistian City round
Met from all parts to           this Feast.
With its Phantom chased for evermore,
By a crowd that seize it not,
Through a circle that ever           in
To the self-same spot,
And much of Madness, and more of Sin,
And Horror the soul of the plot.
Who for true glory suffers thus, we grant
Him to be here our           militant.
It may only be
used on or           in any way with an electronic work by people who
agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement.
And further, from a spirit of
fondness, exultation, and gratitude, the mind luxuriates in the
repetition of words which appear           to communicate its
feelings.
J'enlace et je berce son ame
Dans le reseau mobile et bleu
Qui monte de ma bouche en feu,

Et je roule un           dictame
Qui charme son coeur et guerit
De ses fatigues son esprit.
bona te Venus 195
iuuerit, quoniam palam
Quae cupis capis et bonum
non           amorem.
org/dirs/1/1/4/1141


Updated           will replace the previous one--the old editions will
be renamed.
Now           on the man, whoe'er he be,
That joined your names with mine!
ATOSSA

Alas for me and for this ruin,          
Rich reliquary
Of lofty           left to Time
By buried centuries of pomp and power!
At last           spake, 'A young man strays
Driving the deer along the woody ways.
||           O et Caesenas
2 om.
Where is that wise girl Eloise,

For whom was gelded, to his great shame,

Peter Abelard, at Saint Denis,

For love of her           pain,

And where now is that queen again,

Who commanded them to throw

Buridan in a sack, in the Seine?
Now (sayd the Lady) draweth toward night,
And well I wote, that of your later fight
Ye all           be: for what so strong, 285
But wanting rest will also want of might?
So don't you join our fraternity,

But pray that God           us all.
He led the goddess to the sovereign seat,
Her feet supported with a stool of state
(A purple carpet spread the           wide);
Then drew his seat, familiar, to her side;
Far from the suitor-train, a brutal crowd,
With insolence, and wine, elate and loud:
Where the free guest, unnoted, might relate,
If haply conscious, of his father's fate.
Puis tu te           la joue egratignee.
The canker blooms have full as deep a dye
As the           tincture of the roses.
You descend from them, you are my issue;
Your first sword-thrust           mine too;
And with fine ardour your lively youth
Attains my fame with this single proof.
Full of music--full of manhood, womanhood,          
Girls in           skip!
'

Lovely in dye and fan,
A-tremble in           grace,
A moth from her winter swoon
Uplifts her face:

Stares from her glamorous eyes;
Wafts her on plumes like mist;
In ecstasy swirls and sways
To her strange tryst.
The painter having so long vexed his cloth,
Of his hound's mouth to feign the raging froth,
His desperate pencil at the work did dart ;
His anger reached that rage which passed-

his art ;
Chance           that, which art could not begin,.
Who,           thou, of all mankind, henceforth
Will visit _thee_, guilty of such excess?
"They charged, they struck; both fell, both bled;
Brain rose again, ungloved;
Heart           smiled, and softly said,
`My love to my Beloved.
In soldier, Churchman, patriot, man in power,
'Tis avarice all,           is no more!
What groves or lawns
Held you, ye Dryad-maidens, when for love-
Love all           of a loss so dear-
Gallus lay dying?
Latimer, Bishop,           Satan.
_
Go to bed, and care not when
          day shall spring again.
So send I beckoning hands from here to there,
And kiss your black once, now white thin-grown hair
And your stooped small           and pinched brow.
We two

We two take each other by the hand

We believe everywhere in our house

Under the soft tree under the black sky

Beneath the roofs at the edge of the fire

In the empty street in broad daylight

In the           eyes of the crowd

By the side of the foolish and wise

Among the grown-ups and children

Love's not mysterious at all

We are the evidence ourselves

In our house lovers believe.
We'll hear nae mair lilting at the ewe-milking;
Women and bairns are           and wae;
Sighing and moaning on ilka green loaning--
The Flowers of the Forest are a' wede away.
" And the           answered gently,
"Yes, dear.
When Lil's husband got demobbed, I said--
I didn't mince my words, I said to her myself, 140
HURRY UP PLEASE IT'S TIME
Now Albert's coming back, make           a bit smart.
Danes of the North
with fear and frenzy were filled, each one,
who from the wall that wailing heard,
God's foe           his grisly song,
cry of the conquered, clamorous pain
from captive of hell.
You did-and yet 'tis          
"
»s
A CHANGE SONG By           Wilkinson
0 life, what would you make of me That, turning, I may find no more
A welcome at each friendly door
That once stood open wide to me?
BRAIN-WORM,
_with a cock-and-bull tale of his services in the
wars,           STEPHEN _to buy his sword as a
pure Toledo.
He           all that springs to birth
From the many-venomed earth;
First a little, thence to more,
He sampled all her killing store;
And easy, smiling, seasoned sound,
Sate the king when healths went round.
Would you that spangle of           spend
About THE SECRET--quick about it, Friend!
Shall I have faith in this           thing?
checked their life; a light such
As sleepers wear, lulled by the voice they love, which did reprove _40
The           pity that she felt for them,
And a .
" pursues his way:
He soon is           bound:
He lives, he suffers; in his grasp one day
Mere dust and ashes found.
specie; 170
The voice of the driver'd be heerd in our land,
An' the           scringe, ef we lifted our hand:
Wouldn't _thet_ be some like a fulfillin' the prophecies,
With all the fus' fem'lies in all the fust offices?
Thus Harold deemed, as on that lady's eye
He looked, and met its beam without a thought,
Save Admiration           harmless by:
Love kept aloof, albeit not far remote,
Who knew his votary often lost and caught,
But knew him as his worshipper no more,
And ne'er again the boy his bosom sought:
Since now he vainly urged him to adore,
Well deemed the little god his ancient sway was o'er.
Among the moralities _The           Child_ may be mentioned.
LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right
of Replacement or Refund" described in           1.
But as the           cheek grows wan,
And sorrow's shafts fly thicker,
Ye Stars, that measure life to man,
Why seem your courses quicker?
HERACLES (_his manner           to change_).
ELECTRA (_trying to mask her           and resist the contagion of his_).
There's mony godly folks are thinkin,
Your dreams and tricks
Will send you, Korah-like, a-sinkin
          to auld Nick's.
This irony of Mephistopheles, who carries on so audacious a
game with the weakness and the desires of man, is it not the mocking,
scornful side of the poet's spirit, a leaning to sullenness, which can be
traced even into the           years of his life, a bitter leaven thrown
into a strong soul forever by early satiety?
You that give such force to my resentments,
Veil, crepe, dress, you           ornaments,
Things that his first deed has forced on me,
Against my love now, sustain my glory,
And when that love exhibits all its power,
Speak then of my sad duty by the hour,
Fear nothing, be this conqueror's attacker.
Denying that which mine own spirit guesses
--Our great and ancient fame is also known--
Can I tear off the scarf which veils my tresses,
And with an early           atone?
For whatever
Exists must be a somewhat; and the same,
If tangible, however fight and slight,
Will yet           the count of body's sum,
With its own augmentation big or small;
But, if intangible and powerless ever
To keep a thing from passing through itself
On any side, 'twill be naught else but that
Which we do call the empty, the inane.
AUTOMNE MALADE

Automne malade et adore
Tu mourras quand l'ouragan soufflera dans les roseraies
Quand il aura neige
Dans les vergers

Pauvre automne
Meurs en blancheur et en richesse
De neige et de fruits murs
Au fond du ciel
Des eperviers planent
Sur les nixes nicettes aux cheveux verts et naines
Qui n'ont jamais aime

Aux lisieres lointaines
Les cerfs ont brame

Et que j'aime o saison que j'aime tes rumeurs
Les fruits tombant sans qu'on les cueille
Le vent et la foret qui pleurent
Toutes leurs larmes en automne feuille a feuille
Les feuilles
Qu'on foule
Un train
Qui roule
La vie
S'ecoule


HOTELS

La chambre est veuve
Chacun pour soi
Presence neuve
On paye au mois

Le patron doute
Payera-t-on
Je tourne en route
Comme un toton

Le bruit des fiacres
Mon voisin laid
Qui fume un acre
Tabac anglais

O La Valliere
Qui boite et rit
De mes prieres
Table de nuit

Et tous ensemble
Dans cet hotel
Savons la langue
Comme a Babel

Fermons nos Portes
A double tour
Chacun apporte
Son seul amour


CORS DE CHASSE

Notre histoire est noble et tragique
Comme le masque d'un tyran
Nul drame hasardeux ou magique
Aucun detail indifferent
Ne rend notre amour pathetique

Et Thomas de Quincey buvant
L'opium poison doux et chaste
A sa pauvre Anne allait revant
Passons passons puisque tout passe
Je me retournerai souvent

Les souvenirs sont cors de chasse
Dont meurt le bruit parmi le vent


VENDEMIAIRE

Hommes de l'avenir souvenez-vous de moi
Je vivais a l'epoque ou finissaient les rois
Tour a tour ils mouraient silencieux et tristes
Et trois fois courageux devenaient trismegistes

Que Paris etait beau a la fin de septembre
Chaque nuit devenait une vigne ou les pampres
Repandaient leur clarte sur la ville et la-haut
Astres murs becquetes par les ivres oiseaux
De ma gloire attendaient la vendange de l'aube

Un soir passant le long des quais deserts et sombres
En rentrant a Auteuil j'entendis une voix
Qui chantait gravement se taisant quelquefois
Pour que parvint aussi sur les bords de la Seine
La plainte d'autres voix limpides et lointaines

Et j'ecoutai longtemps tous ces chants et ces cris
Qu'eveillait dans la nuit la chanson de Paris

J'ai soif villes de France et d'Europe et du monde
Venez toutes couler dans ma gorge profonde

Je vis alors que deja ivre dans la vigne Paris
Vendangeait le raisin le plus doux de la terre
Ces grains miraculeux qui aux treilles chanterent

Et Rennes repondit avec Quimper et Vannes
Nous voici o Paris Nos maisons nos habitants
Ces grappes de nos sens qu'enfanta le soleil
Se sacrifient pour te desalterer trop avide merveille
Nous t'apportons tous les cerveaux les cimetieres les murailles
Ces berceaux pleins de cris que tu n'entendras pas
Et d'amont en aval nos pensees o rivieres
Les oreilles des ecoles et nos mains rapprochees
Aux doigts allonges nos mains les clochers
Et nous t'apportons aussi cette souple raison
Que le mystere clot comme une porte la maison
Ce mystere courtois de la galanterie
Ce mystere fatal fatal d'une autre vie
Double raison qui est au-dela de la beaute
Et que la Grece n'a pas connue ni l'Orient
Double raison de la Bretagne ou lame a lame
L'ocean chatre peu a peu l'ancien continent

Et les villes du Nord repondirent gaiement

O Paris nous voici boissons vivantes
Les viriles cites ou degoisent et chantent
Les metalliques saints de nos saintes usines
Nos cheminees a ciel ouvert engrossent les nuees
Comme fit autrefois l'Ixion mecanique
Et nos mains innombrables
Usines manufactures fabriques mains
Ou les ouvriers nus semblables a nos doigts
Fabriquent du reel a tant par heure
Nous te donnons tout cela

Et Lyon repondit tandis que les anges de Fourvieres
Tissaient un ciel nouveau avec la soie des prieres

Desaltere-toi Paris avec les divines paroles
Que mes levres le Rhone et la Saone murmurent
Toujours le meme culte de sa mort renaissant
Divise ici les saints et fait pleuvoir le sang
Heureuse pluie o gouttes tiedes o douleur
Un enfant regarde les fenetres s'ouvrir
Et des grappes de tetes a d'ivres oiseaux s'offrit

Les villes du Midi repondirent alors

Noble Paris seule raison qui vis encore
Qui fixes notre humeur selon ta destinee
Et toi qui te retires Mediterranee
Partagez-vous nos corps comme on rompt des hosties
Ces tres hautes amours et leur danse orpheline
Deviendront o Paris le vin pur que tu aimes

Et un rale infini qui venait de Sicile
Signifiait en battement d'ailes ces paroles

Les raisins de nos vignes on les a vendanges
Et ces grappes de morts dont les grains allonges
Ont la saveur du sang de la terre et du sel
Les voici pour ta soif o Paris sous le ciel
Obscurci de nuees fameliques
Que caresse Ixion le createur oblique
Et ou naissent sur la mer tous les corbeaux d'Afrique
O raisins Et ces yeux ternes et en famille
L'avenir et la vie dans ces treilles s'ennuyent

Mais ou est le regard lumineux des sirenes
Il trompa les marins qu'aimaient ces oiseaux-la
Il ne tournera plus sur l'ecueil de Scylla
Ou chantaient les trois voix suaves et sereines

Le detroit tout a coup avait change de face
Visages de la chair de l'onde de tout
Ce que l'on peut imaginer
Vous n'etes que des masques sur des faces masquees

Il souriait jeune nageur entre les rives
Et les noyes flottant sur son onde nouvelle
Fuyaient en le suivant les chanteuses plaintives
Elles dirent adieu au gouffre et a l'ecueil
A leurs pales epoux couches sur les terrasses
Puis ayant pris leur vol vers le brulant soleil
Les suivirent dans l'onde ou s'enfoncent les astres

Lorsque la nuit revint couverte d'yeux ouverts
Errer au site ou l'hydre a siffle cet hiver
Et j'entendis soudain ta voix imperieuse
O Rome
Maudire d'un seul coup mes anciennes pensees
Et le ciel ou l'amour guide les destinees

Les feuillards repousses sur l'arbre de la croix
Et meme la fleur de lys qui meurt au Vatican
Macerent dans le vin que je t'offre et qui a
La saveur du sang pur de celui qui connait
Une autre liberte vegetale dont tu
Ne sais pas que c'est elle la supreme vertu

Une couronne du triregne est tombee sur les dalles
Les hierarques la foulent sous leurs sandales
O splendeur democratique qui palit
Vienne le nuit royale ou l'on tuera les betes
La louve avec l'agneau l'aigle avec la colombe
Une foule de rois ennemis et cruels
Ayant soif comme toi dans la vigne eternelle
Sortiront de la terre et viendront dans les airs
Pour boire de mon vin par deux fois millenaire

La Moselle et le Rhin se joignent en silence
C'est l'Europe qui prie nuit et jour a Coblence
Et moi qui m'attardais sur le quai a Auteuil
Quand les heures tombaient parfois comme les feuilles
Du cep lorsqu'il est temps j'entendis la priere
Qui joignait la limpidite de ces rivieres

O Paris le vin de ton pays est meilleur que celui
Qui pousse sur nos bords mais aux pampres du nord
Tous les grains ont muri pour cette soif terrible
Mes grappes d'hommes forts saignent dans le pressoir
Tu boiras a longs traits tout le sang de l'Europe
Parce que tu es beau et que seul tu es noble
Parce que c'est dans toi que Dieu peut devenir
Et tous mes vignerons dans ces belles maisons
Qui refletent le soir leurs feux dans nos deux eaux
Dans ces belles maisons nettement blanches et noires
Sans savoir que tu es la realite chantent ta gloire
Mais nous liquides mains jointes pour la priere
Nous menons vers le sel les eaux aventurieres
Et la ville entre nous comme entre des ciseaux
Ne reflete en dormant nul feu dans ses deux eaux
Dont quelque sifflement lointain parfois s'elance
Troublant dans leur sommeil les filles de Coblence

Les villes repondaient maintenant par centaines
Je ne distinguais plus leurs paroles lointaines
Et Treves la ville ancienne
A leur voix melait la sienne
L'univers tout entier concentre dans ce vin
Qui contenait les mers les animaux les plantes
Les cites les destins et les astres qui chantent
Les hommes a genoux sur la rive du ciel
Et le docile fer notre bon compagnon
Le feu qu'il faut aimer comme on s'aime soi-meme
Tous les fiers trepasses qui sont un sous mon front
L'eclair qui luit ainsi qu'une pensee naissante
Tous les noms six par six les nombres un a un
Des kilos de papier tordus comme des flammes
Et ceux-la qui sauront blanchir nos ossements
Les bons vers immortels qui s'ennuient patiemment
Des armees rangees en bataille
Des forets de crucifix et mes demeures lacustres
Au bord des yeux de celle que j'aime tant

Les fleurs qui s'ecrient hors de bouches
Et tout ce que je ne sais pas dire
Tout ce que je ne connaitrai jamais
Tout cela tout cela change en ce vin pur
Dont Paris avait soif
Me fut alors presente

Actions belles           sommeils terribles
Vegetation Accouplements musiques eternelles
Mouvements Adorations douleur divine
Mondes qui vous rassemblez et qui nous ressemblez
Je vous ai bus et ne fut pas desaltere

Mais je connus des lors quelle saveur a l'univers

Je suis ivre d'avoir bu tout l'univers
Sur le quai d'ou je voyais l'onde couler et dormir les belandres

Ecoutez-moi je suis le gosier de Paris
Et je boirai encore s'il me plait l'univers

Ecoutez mes chants d'universelle ivrognerie

Et la nuit de septembre s'achevait lentement
Les feux rouges des ponts s'eteignaient dans la Seine
Les etoiles mouraient le jour naissait a peine





End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Alcools, by Guillaume Apollinaire

*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ALCOOLS ***

***** This file should be named 15462-8.
Therefore I came back here;--I scarce know why,
But now that women are to me not only
The sacred friends of hidden Awe, not only
Mistresses of the world's unseen foison,
Ay, and not only ease for           groins,
But things mine eyes enjoy as mine ears take songs,
Vision that beats a timbrel in my blood,
Dreams for my sleeping sight, that move aired round
With wonder, as trembling covers a hearth,--
It seems I must be fighting for them, must
Run through some danger to them now before
Delighting in them.
'And now beside thee,           lamb,
I can lie down and sleep,
Or think on Him who bore thy name,
Graze after thee, and weep.
'
          answerde anoon, and seyde,
`Ma dame, y-wis, the goodlieste mayde 880
Of greet estat in al the toun of Troye;
And let hir lyf in most honour and Ioye.
The halter was of silk and gold,
That he reach'd forth unto me;
No           than if he would
By dainty things undo me.
" —Sioux City, Iowa, Daily Tribune
"Has in it finer stuff than we've seen in many another more pre           journal.
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.
O, so unnatural Nature,

You whose           flower

Lasts only from dawn to dusk!
They may be           and printed and given away--you may do
practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks.
Nay, she is rather the eternal lure
Out of form and things that end,
Out of all the starry snares,
Out of the trap of years,
Into           desire;
Lest man be satisfied with mind,--
Be never stung into self-hate
At crouching always in the crate
Of prudent knowledge round him wrought,
And so grow small as his own thought.
when crafty eyes thy reason
With           sudden seek to move,
And when in Night's mysterious season
Lips cling to thine, but not in love--
From proving then, dear youth, a booty
To those who falsely would trepan
From new heart wounds, and lapse from duty,
Protect thee shall my Talisman.
Arbuthnot interposes herewith an ejaculation
of           pity; is it really worth the poet's while to castigate
such a slight thing as Hervey, that "mere white curd"?
org


Title: The Epic of Gilgamish
A Fragment of the           Legend in Old-Babylonian Cuneiform

Author: Stephen Langdon

Release Date: July 23, 2006 [EBook #18897]

Language: EN


*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE EPIC OF GILGAMISH ***




Produced by Jeroen Hellingman and the Online Distributed
Proofreading Team at http://www.
Some o'er thy Thamis row the ribboned fair,
Others along the safer turnpike fly;
Some           Hill ascend, some scud to Ware,
And many to the steep of Highgate hie.
The long _u_ is
due to analogy with           a Sumerian loan-word with nisbe ending.
But having been a main instrument in
rescuing the talent of my young parishioner from being buried in the
ground, by giving it such warrant with the world as could be derived
from a name already widely known by several printed           (all of
which I may be permitted without immodesty to state have been deemed
worthy of preservation in the Library of Harvard College by my esteemed
friend Mr.
Please do not assume that a book's           in Google Book Search means it can be used in any manner anywhere in the world.
Glooms of the live-oaks, beautiful-braided and woven
With intricate shades of the vines that myriad-cloven
Clamber the forks of the multiform boughs, --
Emerald twilights, --
Virginal shy lights,
Wrought of the leaves to allure to the whisper of vows,
When lovers pace timidly down through the green colonnades
Of the dim sweet woods, of the dear dark woods,
Of the heavenly woods and glades,
That run to the radiant marginal sand-beach within
The wide sea-marshes of Glynn; --

Beautiful glooms, soft dusks in the noon-day fire, --
Wildwood privacies, closets of lone desire,
Chamber from chamber parted with wavering arras of leaves, --
Cells for the passionate pleasure of prayer to the soul that grieves,
Pure with a sense of the passing of saints through the wood,
Cool for the dutiful           of ill with good; --

O braided dusks of the oak and woven shades of the vine,
While the riotous noon-day sun of the June-day long did shine
Ye held me fast in your heart and I held you fast in mine;
But now when the noon is no more, and riot is rest,
And the sun is a-wait at the ponderous gate of the West,
And the slant yellow beam down the wood-aisle doth seem
Like a lane into heaven that leads from a dream, --
Ay, now, when my soul all day hath drunken the soul of the oak,
And my heart is at ease from men, and the wearisome sound of the stroke
Of the scythe of time and the trowel of trade is low,
And belief overmasters doubt, and I know that I know,
And my spirit is grown to a lordly great compass within,
That the length and the breadth and the sweep of the marshes of Glynn
Will work me no fear like the fear they have wrought me of yore
When length was fatigue, and when breadth was but bitterness sore,
And when terror and shrinking and dreary unnamable pain
Drew over me out of the merciless miles of the plain, --

Oh, now, unafraid, I am fain to face
The vast sweet visage of space.
          is now where eyes with flame were fraught,
And thrice-bored visor serves for mask of naught.
Judith, our fates are closer to one another's

Than one might think, seeing my face and yours:

The whole divine abyss is present in your eyes,

And I feel the starry gulf within my soul;

We are both           of the silent skies.
Da indi scese           a Iuba;
onde si volse nel vostro occidente,
ove sentia la pompeana tuba.
It was a short procession, --
The           was there,
An aged bee addressed us,
And then we knelt in prayer.
A distant           voice .
The roads were broken, and the           day
Olindro from all sides was overlaid;
And, though he made a brave defence and long,
Of wife and life was plundered by that throng.
Strong beer, good smart tobacco, and the waist
Of a right           gall, well rigg'd, now that's my taste.
How can I say
If there were poets in the paths of          
D oubtless, as my heart's lady you'll have being,

E ntirely now, till death           my age.
The tides of war had ebb'd away
From Trachis and Thermopylae,
Long centuries had come and gone
Since that fierce day at Marathon;

Freedom was firmly based, and we
Wall'd by our own           sea;
The ancient passions dead, and men
Battl'd with ledger and with pen.
Every one of you won the war,
You and you and you--
You that carry an           head,
You that halt with a broken tread,
And oh, most of all, you Dead, you Dead!
Study our manuscripts, those Myriades 10
Of letters, which have past twixt thee and mee,
Thence write our Annals, and in them will bee
To all whom loves           fire invades,
Rule and example found;
There, the faith of any ground 15
No schismatique will dare to wound,
That sees, how Love this grace to us affords,
To make, to keep, to use, to be these his Records.
They looked as if they would be           and proper enough as
long as the coats were new and tidy, but would soon come to have a
beggarly and unsightly look, akin to rags and dust-holes.
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