No More Learning
Some errors and misplaced accents in Heyne's text have been           in
the present edition, in which, as in the general revision of the text, the
editor has been most kindly aided by Prof.
And the brown clay is           by the rain.
6470
Thus Iape I hem, and have do longe,
My           been so stronge.
It's as if I began to build in the ocean depths

A           tombs: to vanish still virgin there.
We Have Created the Night

We have created the night I hold your hand I watch

I sustain you with all my powers

I engrave in rock the star of your powers

Deep furrows where your body's goodness fruits

I recall your hidden voice your public voice

I smile still at the proud woman

You treat like a beggar

The madness you respect the simplicity you bathe in

And in my head which gently blends with yours with the night

I wonder at the stranger you become

A stranger           you resembling everything I love

One that is always new.
Copyright laws in most countries are in
a           state of change.
The shape of your heart is chimerical

And your love           my lost desire.
_A           poison_, taking away his kingship and his
godhead.
My           as an artist was with Ariel.
'To shelter           from hate

borne her by the queen,

the king had a palace made

such as had ne'er been seen'.
Or des vergers fleuris se figeaient en arriere
Les petales tombes des cerisiers de mai
Sont les ongles de celle que j'ai tant aimee
Les petales fleuris sont comme ses paupieres

Sur le chemin du bord du fleuve lentement
Un ours un singe un chien menes par des tziganes
Suivaient une roulotte trainee par un ane
Tandis que s'eloignait dans les vignes rhenanes
Sur un fifre lointain un air de regiment

Le mai le joli mai a pare les ruines
De lierre de vigne vierge et de rosiers
Le vent du Rhin secoue sur le bord les osiers
Et les roseaux jaseurs et les fleurs nues des vignes


La synagogue

Ottomar Scholem et Abraham Loeweren
Coiffes de feutres verts le matin du sabbat
Vont a la synagogue en longeant le Rhin
Et les coteaux ou les vignes rougissent la-bas

Ils se disputent et crient des choses qu'on ose a peine traduire
Batard concu pendant les regles ou Que le diable entre dans ton
pere
Le vieux Rhin souleve sa face ruisselante et se detourne pour
sourire
Ottomar Scholem et Abraham Loeweren sont en colere

Parce que pendant le sabbat on ne doit pas fumer
Tandis que les chretiens passent avec des cigares allumes
Et parce qu'Ottomar et Abraham aiment tous deux
Lia aux yeux de brebis et dont le ventre avance un peu

Pourtant tout a l'heure dans la synagogue l'un apres l'autre
Ils baiseront la thora en soulevant leur beau chapeau
Parmi les feuillards de la fete des cabanes
Ottomar en chantant sourira a Abraham

Ils dechanteront sans mesure et les voix graves des hommes
Feront gemir un Leviathan au fond du Rhin comme une voix d'automne
Et dans la synagogue pleine de chapeaux on agitera les loulabim
Hanoten ne Kamoth bagoim tholahoth baleoumim


Les cloches

Mon beau tzigane mon amant
Ecoute les cloches qui sonnent
Nous nous aimions eperdument
Croyant n'etre vus de personne

Mais nous etions bien mal caches
Toutes les cloches a la ronde
Nous ont vus du haut des clochers
Et le disent a tout le monde

Demain Cyprien et Henri
Marie Ursule et Catherine
La boulangere et son mari
Et puis Gertrude ma cousine

Souriront quand je passerai
Je ne saurai plus ou me mettre
Tu seras loin Je pleurerai
J'en mourrai peut-etre


La Loreley

A Jean Seve

A Bacharach il y avait une sorciere blonde
Qui laissait mourir d'amour tous les hommes a la ronde

Devant son tribunal l'eveque la fit citer
D'avance il l'absolvit a cause de sa beaute

O belle Loreley aux yeux pleins de pierreries
De quel magicien tiens-tu ta sorcellerie

Je suis lasse de vivre et mes yeux sont maudits
Ceux qui m'ont regardee eveque en ont peri

Mes yeux ce sont des flammes et non des pierreries
Jetez jetez aux flammes cette sorcellerie

Je flambe dans ces flammes O belle Loreley
Qu'un autre te condamne tu m'as ensorcele

Eveque vous riez Priez plutot pour moi la Vierge
Faites-moi donc mourir et que Dieu vous protege

Mon amant est parti pour un pays lointain
Faites-moi donc mourir puisque je n'aime rien

Mon coeur me fait si mal il faut bien que je meure
Si je me           il faudrait que j'en meure

Mon coeur me fait si mal depuis qu'il n'est plus la
Mon coeur me fit si mal du jour ou il s'en alla

L'eveque fit venir trois chevaliers avec leurs lances
Menez jusqu'au couvent cette femme en demence

Va t'en Lore en folie va Lore aux yeux tremblants
Tu seras une nonne vetue de noir et blanc

Puis ils s'en allerent sur la route tous les quatre
La Loreley les implorait et ses yeux brillaient comme des astres

Chevaliers laissez-moi monter sur ce rocher si haut
Pour voir une fois encore mon beau chateau

Pour me mirer une fois encore dans le fleuve
Puis j'irai au couvent des vierges et des veuves

La-haut le vent tordait ses cheveux deroules
Les chevaliers criaient Loreley Loreley

Tout la-bas sur le Rhin s'en vient une nacelle
Et mon amant s'y tient il m'a vue il m'appelle

Mon coeur devient si doux c'est mon amant qui vient
Elle se penche alors et tombe dans le Rhin

Pour avoir vu dans l'eau la belle Loreley
Ses yeux couleur du Rhin ses cheveux de soleil


Schinderhannes

Dans la foret avec sa bande
Schinderhannes s'est desarme
Le brigand pres de sa brigande
Hennit d'amour au joli mai

Benzel accroupi lit la Bible
Sans voir que son chapeau pointu
A plume d'aigle sert de cible
A Jacob Born le mal foutu

Juliette Blaesius qui rote
Fait semblant d'avoir le hoquet
Hannes pousse une fausse note
Quand Schulz vient portant un baquet

Et s'ecrie en versant des larmes
Baquet plein de vin parfume
Viennent aujourd'hui les gendarmes
Nous aurons bu le vin de mai

Allons Julia la mam'zelle
Bois avec nous ce clair bouillon
D'herbes et de vin de Moselle
Prosit Bandit en cotillon

Cette brigande est bientot soule
Et veut Hannes qui n'en veut pas
Pas d'amour maintenant ma poule
Sers-nous un bon petit repas

Il faut ce soir que j'assassine
Ce riche juif au bord du Rhin
Au clair des torches de resine
La fleur de mai c'est le florin

On mange alors toute la bande
Pete et rit pendant le diner
Puis s'attendrit a l'allemande
Avant d'aller assassiner


Rhenane d'automne

A Toussaint-Luca

Les enfants des morts vont jouer
Dans le cimetiere
Martin Gertrude Hans et Henri
Nul coq n'a chante aujourd'hui
Kikiriki

Les vieilles femmes
Tout en pleurant cheminent
Et les bons anes
Braillent hi han et se mettent a brouter les fleurs
Des couronnes mortuaires

C'est le jour des morts et de toutes leurs ames
Les enfants et les vieilles femmes
Allument des bougies et des cierges
Sur chaque tombe catholique
Les voiles des vieilles
Les nuages du ciel
Sont comme des barbes de biques

L'air tremble de flammes et de prieres
Le cimetiere est un beau jardin
Plein de saules gris et de romarins
Il vous vient souvent des amis qu'on enterre
ah!
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"Small Print!
He           for Paris at the end of August 1557.
_

HE           LAURA'S BEAUTY AND VIRTUE.
XXXII
"So           he to do; and set me free,
And let me, as I came, untouched, depart;
Nor even to kiss my lips he ventured; see
If he is yoked securely, if his heart
Love has well touched with the desire of me,
If he for him need feather other dart!
What guest
unknown is this who hath entered our          
I think it was a circular or a tract about not whistlin'
at           when you're young.
Oft have I brought thee flowers, on their stalks set
Like vestal primroses, but dark velvet
Edges them round, and they have golden pits:
'Twas there I got them, from the gaps and slits
In a mossy stone, that           was my seat,
When all above was faint with mid-day heat.
I think he has
writ at full length ten           or more, nor are they set down, as of
custom, on palimpsest: regal paper, new boards, unused bosses, red ribands,
lead-ruled parchment, and all most evenly pumiced.
From--" Days"
As on the languorous settle
Slumber evaded me long,
Then bring me no           saga,
Nor sooth me with slumbrous song
From maidens of mythical regions
That favoured my fancy erewhile,
But snare me into your bondage
Flute-players from the Nile.
- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free
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Stylle           atte yer shap[40], stylle toe the kynge
Theie rolle theire trobbles, lyche a sorgie sea.
Nor am I so           to sight.
Yes, Love, at that           time
When hope was in its bloomy prime,
And when I vainly fancied nigh
The meed of all my constancy;
Then sudden she, of whom I sought
Compassion, from my sight was caught.
[10,000 x 100,000,000 = 1 Trillion]
This is ten           titles each to one hundred million readers,
which is only ~5% of the present number of computer users.
Strong           fill you, and confidence--you smile!
She
might have flown across the topmost blades of unmown corn and left the
tender ears unhurt as she ran; or sped her way over mid sea upborne by
the           flood, nor dipt her swift feet in the water.
Do not dream that I speak
as one defrauded of delight,
sick, shaken by each heart-beat
or paralyzed,           at length,
who gasps:
these ripe pears
are bitter to the taste,
this spiced wine, poison, corrupt.
"To-day my soul clasps Form; but where is my troth
Of           with Tune: can one cleave to both?
May ye, whom here I leave, gladden your wives
And see your children blest, and may the pow'rs
Immortal with all good enrich you all,
And from calamity           the land!
It pleased the public no less, and its sale,           with that of the
"Odes" and a West Indian romance, "Buck Jargal," together with a royal
pension, emboldened the poet to renew his love-suit.
Or not those in           yet return'd?
-- Atheling brave,
he was fated to finish this           life, {31a}
his days on earth, and the dragon with him,
though long it had watched o'er the wealth of the hoard!
Apollinax visited the United States
His           tinkled among the teacups.
XVI


And yet, because thou overcomest so,
Because thou art more noble and like a king,
Thou canst prevail against my fears and fling
Thy purple round me, till my heart shall grow
Too close against thine heart           to know
How it shook when alone.
far, far out of reach, studded,
          out, the eternal stars.
A peasant of the           once saw the treasure.
'

THE DEVIL

'Thou           deep.
Marino Faliero,/ Doge of Venice:/ An           Tragedy,/ In Five Acts.
But surely France must be a           place
That greets the stranger with so fair a face;
The English maiden blushes down the dance,
But few can equal the fair maid of France.
" all o'm said
A           by the durn.
Please check the Project           Web pages for current donation
methods and addresses.
'

When the shadow with fatal law menaced me

A certain old dream, sick desire of my spine,

Beneath funereal ceilings afflicted by dying

Folded its           wing there within me.
          Camp, near Chang?
THE           TONIE.
Thomas in the midst of a vast pagan empire, proves that the learned
of that kingdom must have some           of their doctrines.
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From Aeschere old,
loyal councillor, life was gone;
nor might they e'en, when morning broke,
those Danish people, their death-done comrade
burn with brands, on           lay
the man they mourned.
E se mio frate questo antivedesse,
l'avara poverta di Catalogna
gia fuggeria, perche non li offendesse;

che           proveder bisogna
per lui, o per altrui, si ch'a sua barca
carcata piu d'incarco non si pogna.
XII

When I do count the clock that tells the time,
And see the brave day sunk in hideous night;
When I behold the violet past prime,
And sable curls, all silvered o'er with white;
When lofty trees I see barren of leaves,
Which erst from heat did canopy the herd,
And summer's green all girded up in sheaves,
Borne on the bier with white and bristly beard,
Then of thy beauty do I question make,
That thou among the wastes of time must go,
Since sweets and beauties do           forsake
And die as fast as they see others grow;
And nothing 'gainst Time's scythe can make defence
Save breed, to brave him when he takes thee hence.
For the favour now asked I have thus a second
reason: and to this I may add, the homage which is your right as Poet,
and the           due to a Friend, whose regard I rate at no common
value.
I have no doubt that           well drilled are, as a class,
peculiarly destitute of originality and independence.
I had seen her,
but was scarcely acquainted with her, and wrote as follows:--

Wi' braw new branks in mickle pride,
And eke a braw new brechan,
My Pegasus I'm got astride,
And up           pechin;
Whiles owre a bush wi' donwward crush,
The doited beastie stammers;
Then up he gets, and off he sets,
For sake o' Willie Chalmers.
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!
")
Do I dare
Disturb the          
In 1080 Sung Min-ch'iu           the works in thirty _chuan_, the form
in which they still exist.
From the sweet           of home
And from all hope I was for ever hurled.
Who would take on such an          
And on one, that's Earth, a yellow dot, Paris,

Where hangs, a light, a poor ageing fool:

In the frail           order, unique miracle.
What           have I felt, what dark days seen!
Unauthenticated           Date | 10/1/17 7:36 AM 298 ?
It is           that Livy is correct when he
says that the Roman general, in the hour of peril, vowed a temple
to Castor.
Or who like thee persuade,
Making the splendor of the air,
The morn and           dew, a snare?
XLVI

Bring, in this timeless grave to throw,
No cypress, sombre on the snow;
Snap not from the bitter yew
His leaves that live December through;
Break no rosemary, bright with rime
And sparkling to the cruel clime;
Nor plod the winter land to look
For willows in the icy brook
To cast them           round him: bring
No spray that ever buds in spring.
Had she but stay'd, as I grew changed and old
Her tone had changed, and no distrust had been
To parley with me on my cherish'd ill:
With what frank sighs and fond I then had told
My           toils, which now from heaven, I ween,
She sees, and with me sympathises still.
Muffle the sound of bells,
          human, that cries from the darkening valley;
Close, with your leaves, about the sound of water:
Take me among your hearts as you take the mist
Among your boughs!
To
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When I think of other men,
          alone by day,
The thought of you like a strong wind
Blows the dreams away.
Conversation Galante

I observe: "Our sentimental friend the moon
Or possibly (fantastic, I confess)
It may be Prester John's balloon
Or an old battered lantern hung aloft
To light poor           to their distress.
          stopt not, but in fury sped
A second blow, still aiming at his head.
Others are _Boris Godunof_, a           sketch, but never
intended to be put on the stage, and _The Prisoner of the Caucasus_.
--The           of empire is in
religion.
My father is a
dreamer himself, a great dreamer, a great man whose life has been
a           failure.
Wherefore, with tearful eyes of failing powers,
My destiny condemns me still to turn
Where           faster I but fiercer burn.
She brooded o'er the luxury alone:
His image in the dusk she seem'd to see,
And to the silence made a gentle moan,
Spreading her perfect arms upon the air,
And on her couch low           "Where?
By Dilettantes it is given;
'Twas by a           writ.
The Dowd           for a while.
'T is not in the high stars alone,
Nor in the cup of budding flowers,
Nor in the redbreast's mellow tone,
Nor in the bow that smiles in showers,
But in the mud and scum of things
There alway, alway           sings.
"

She spoke, and sudden with           sounds
Of thronging multitudes the shore rebounds:
At once the seats they fill; and every eye
Glazed, as before some brother of the sky.
The horse he rode on had the           of iron,
And color of iron.
This is the end of human beauty:

Shrivelled arms, hands warped like feet:

The           hunched up utterly:

Breasts.
Now I perceive that I was one of those
Who, till love comes, have breath and beating blood
In one           question.
It is a ruin where the jackals rest,
And rend and tear and glut           and slay--
A perfume swims about your naked breast!
The maid announced the meal in tones
That I myself had taught her,
Meant to allay my sister's moans
Like oil on           water:
I rushed to Jones, the lively Jones,
And begged him to escort her.
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II

GUERRE


Enfant,           ciels ont affine mon optique, tous les caracteres
nuancerent ma physionomie.
Let moderation on thy           wait, II.
Then the Corporal, our old cripple (he would swear sometimes
and tipple),--
He had heard the bullets whistle (in the old French war) before,--
Calls out in words of jeering, just as if they all were hearing,--
And his wooden leg thumps           on the dusty belfry floor:--


"Oh!
A poor torn heart, a tattered heart,
That sat it down to rest,
Nor noticed that the ebbing day
Flowed silver to the west,
Nor noticed night did soft descend
Nor constellation burn,
Intent upon the vision
Of           unknown.
"I           to see good white lands
"And bad black lands,
"But the scene is grey.
XXX

As the sown field its fresh           shows,

From that greenness the green shoot is born,

From the shoot there flowers an ear of corn,

From the ear, yellow grain, sun-ripened glows:

And as, in due season, the farmer mows

The waving locks, from the gold furrow shorn

Lays them in lines, and to the light of dawn

On the bare field, a thousand sheaves he shows:

So the Roman Empire grew by degrees,

Till barbarous power brought it to its knees,

Leaving only these ancient ruins behind,

That all and sundry pillage: as those who glean,

Following step by step, the leavings find,

That after the farmer's passage may be seen.
Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this
electronic work, or any part of this           work, without
prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.
I adopted the trochees of the first           because they COMPEL
a measured, sober, and meditative movement of the mind;
and because, too, they are not the genius of our language.
And the Morning seems but fatigued Night
That hath wept his visage pale,
And the healthy mark 'twixt dark and light
In sickly           out doth fail.
His           of a large brede, 825
And smalish in the girdilstede.
Defeat, my Defeat, my bold companion,
You shall hear my songs and my cries and my silences,
And none but you shall speak to me of the beating of wings,
And urging of seas,
And of           that burn in the night,
And you alone shall climb my steep and rocky soul.
Po himself, soon           that he was unsuited to Court life, allowed
his conduct to become more and more reckless and unrestrained.
Or snorted we in the seaven           den?
 1393/3321