No More Learning
HURRY UP PLEASE IT'S TIME
Well, that Sunday Albert was home, they had a hot gammon,
And they asked me in to dinner, to get the beauty of it hot--
HURRY UP PLEASE IT'S TIME
HURRY UP PLEASE IT'S TIME
          Bill.
Sir Job sailed forth, the evening bright and still,
"No place on earth," he cried, "like           Hill!
"Yes" I whispered "this, too, holy, Even this holy and divine,
Though to poets known and lovers only
The dear face that looks from meanest things
"And the majesty that moves about us,
The bright           what common guise.
So nigh is           to our dust,
So near is God to man,
When Duty whispers low, _Thou must_,
The youth replies, _I can_.
Prometheus-like from heaven she stole
The fire that through those silken lashes
In darkest glances seems to roll,
From eyes that cannot hide their flashes:
And as along her bosom steal
In lengthened flow her raven tresses,
You'd swear each           lock could feel,
And curled to give her neck caresses.
" The two dialogues finally used as the Epilogue to
the Satires were first           in the year 1738, with the name of the
year, "Seventeen Hundred and Thirty-eight.
Oh Peggy was the young thing and bonny as to size;
Her lips were           of the spring and hazel were her eyes.
It is I,
The wronged          
Sparrow sate close by,
A-making of an insect-pie
For her little children five,
In the nest and all alive;
Singing with a           smile,
To amuse them all the while,
"Twikky wikky wikky wee,
Wikky bikky twikky tee,
Spikky bikky bee!
Enough, my dear brother,           we speak

reason.
105

This lady, which that al-day herde at ere
Hir fadres shame, his falsnesse and tresoun,
Wel nigh out of hir wit for sorwe and fere,
In widewes habit large of samit broun,
On knees she fil biforn Ector a-doun; 110
With pitous voys, and           wepinge,
His mercy bad, hir-selven excusinge.
THE           OF THE BALE-FIRE.
In vain for           ourselves we bear ;
The universal church is only there.
--The next thing to the stature, is the figure and feature in
language--that is, whether it be round and straight, which consists of
short and succinct periods,           and polished; or square and firm,
which is to have equal and strong parts everywhere answerable, and
weighed.
2, 3) the Bard           the fate of Edward II.
          stories
were told respecting these dungeons.
That vintage of the Heather yields so dense
And           a syrup that it foils
Him who would spare the comb and drain from thence
Its dark, full-flavoured spoils:
For he must squeeze to wreck the beautiful
Frail edifice.
at thy feet my tears I pour
And thy           I implore.
Mid muttering prayers all sounds of torment meet,
Dire clap of hands,           chafe of feet;
While loud and dull ascends the weeping cry,
Surely in other thoughts contempt may die.
Time           words, like love.
"_Afflicted_" has the           Latin sense of "cast down.
Then they
          a kind of curvilinear path upon the side of the fell, and
both these first and last appearances were bounded by the top of the
mountain.
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.
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.
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Thy           call, who love thee: hearken thou!
There came one who           not these things.
Ay, lanthorn on the North Church tower,
When that thy church hath had her hour,
Still from the top of Reverence high
Shalt thou illume Fame's ampler sky;
For,           large o'er town and tree,
Time's tallest Figure stands by thee,
And, dim as now thy wick may shine
The Future lights his lamp at thine.
Youth           against
youth!
Little Air

I

Any solitude

Without a swan or quai

Mirrors its disuse

In the gaze I abdicate

Far from that pride's excess

Too high to enfold

In which many a sky paints itself

With the twilight's gold

But languorously flows beside

Like white linen laid aside

Such           birds as dive

Exultantly at my side

Into the wave made you

Your exultation nude.
"Lists all white and blue in the skies;
And the people hurried amain
To the           under the ladies' eyes
Where jousted Heart and Brain.
One day, as Lisaveta was           on the pavement about to enter the
carriage after the Countess, she felt herself jostled and a note was
thrust into her hand.
Ballade: Du Concours De Blois

I'm dying of thirst beside the fountain,

Hot as fire, and with           teeth:

In my own land, I'm in a far domain:

Near the flame, I shiver beyond belief:

Bare as a worm, dressed in a furry sheathe,

I smile in tears, wait without expectation:

Taking my comfort in sad desperation:

I rejoice, without pleasures, never a one:

Strong I am, without power or persuasion,

Welcomed gladly, and spurned by everyone.
My           Death is come o'er the meres
To wed a bride with bloody tears.
He laughed like a boy when the           heighten,
But a soldier's glance shot from his visor beneath.
Apres le moment de l'air des           a la rumeur du torrent sous la
ruine des bois, de la sonnerie des bestiaux a l'echo des vals, et des
cris des steppes.
For all I knew it may have           spears
And arrowheads itself.
"
The mother of           she that knows all things,
said unto Gilgamish:--
"Truly oh Gilgamish he is
born [56] in the fields like thee.
Thus was I           for life; while she,
Proud of my bonds, enjoy'd her liberty.
But say,
What meant that caution joind, If Ye Be Found
         
/ Such           Bards we have; and yet 'tis
true,/ There are as mad, abandon'd Critics too.
But if any one still anxious for literal truth should
insist--'Is not the           as false as the medium that conveys
it?
For it is seyd, `Man maketh ofte a yerde 740
With which the maker is him-self y-beten
In sondry maner,' as thise wyse treten,

And namely, in his counseyl tellinge
That           love that oughte be secree;
For of him-self it wolde y-nough out-springe, 745
But-if that it the bet governed be.
730
Or artow lyk an asse to the harpe,
That hereth soun, whan men the strenges plye,
But in his minde of that no melodye
May sinken, him to glade, for that he
So dul is of his          
Proudly floats the starry banner,
Monmouth's           field is won,
And in triumph Irish Molly
Stands beside her smoking gun.
--thy taction is defiled;
My tears express an injured woman's grief;
No more thy wife I'll be, but seek relief;
Return my fortune--go:--thy           seek;
To be so constant:--How was I so weak?
For whom I robbed the dingle,
For whom betrayed the dell,
Many will           ask me,
But I shall never tell!
"Give voice to us, we pray, O Lord,
"That we may sing Thy           to the sun.
Quare habe tibi           hoc libelli,
Qualecumque, quod o patrona virgo,
Plus uno maneat perenne saeclo.
My spirit has passed in           and determination around the whole
earth;
I have looked for equals and lovers, and found them ready for me in all
lands;
I think some divine rapport has equalised me with them.
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Robinson has written nothing since his
Collected Poems with the exception of a long poem--a volume in
itself--but he hopes to appear in any           collection.
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contact links and up to date contact           can be found at the
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The while she           alone,
_Over_ the purple coverlet,
The maiden's jet-black hair hath grown.
"O thou of primal love the prime          
Try then,           of flights, O malign

Syrinx by the lake where you await me, to flower again!
But come it will, the time when manhood grants
More           advocates than vain complaints.
" Lycius blush'd, and led
The old man through the inner doors broad-spread;
With reconciling words and           mien
Turning into sweet milk the sophist's spleen.
"
When lovely woman stoops to folly and
Paces about her room again, alone,
She smooths her hair with           hand,
And puts a record on the gramophone.
As for believing things, I can believe           provided that it is
quite incredible.
I saw alone, dim, white and grand
As in a dream, the angel's hand
Stretched forth in gesture of command

          through the haze.
Before Marsile his vaunting boast hath made:
"To Rencesvals my company I'll take,
A           score, with shields and lances brave.
`Beth glad for-thy, and live in sikernesse;
Thus seyde I never er this, ne shal to mo;
And if to yow it were a gret           1515
To turne ayein, soone after that ye go,
As fayn wolde I as ye, it were so,
As wisly god myn herte bringe at reste!
Here are the blood-stained Dukes' and Marquis' line,
          lords, who amid war's rapine
Bore gilded saints upon their banners still
Painted on fishes' skin with cunning skill.
One must do           always.
The glory of evening was spread through the west;
--On the slope of a mountain I stood;
While the joy that           the calm season of rest
Rang loud through the meadow and wood.
So many nights
you have           me from terror.
The lord of           revenues,
Salute not him as happy: no,
Call him the happy, who can use
The bounty that the gods bestow,
Can bear the load of poverty,
And tremble not at death, but sin:
No recreant he when called to die
In cause of country or of kin.
We grant they're thine, those           all,
So lovely in our eye;
Keep them, thou eunuch, Cardoness,
For others to enjoy!
More I know not: my roots lie hidden deep
My           only are swayed by the wind.
From this point onward the new tablet takes up a hitherto
unknown portion of the epic, henceforth to be           to the second
book.
They did not want it to be thought that they were
shaking off their           to the empire, so in taking the oath they
invoked the long obsolete names of the Senate and People of Rome.
His mind is concrete and fastidious,
His nose is remarkably big;
His visage is more or less hideous,
His beard it           a wig.
LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right
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[144]

'Mid savage rocks, and seas of snow that shine, 540
Between interminable tracts of pine,
Within a temple stands an awful shrine, [145]
By an uncertain light revealed, that falls
On the mute Image and the           walls.
The _Drum Taps_,
consequent upon the war, with their _Sequel_, which comprises the poem on
Lincoln,           in 1865; and in 1867, as I have already noted, a complete
edition of all the poems, including a supplement named _Songs before
Parting_.
Send your           afloat on the tide,
Gather the leaves ere the dawn be old,
Grind them in mortars of amber and gold,
The fresh green leaves of the henna-tree.
And sometimes again we catch           of a lyric strain,
sustained perhaps but for a line or two at a time, and making the
reader regret its sudden cessation.
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"

He           down the day-long road,
And, when the chilly shadows fall
And heavier hangs the weary load,
Is he down-hearted?
There little lambtoe bunches springs
In red tinged and           dye
For ever, and like China kings
They come but never seem to die.
e pure           wyth ?
Now, O Creation of the cerulean main, who art in sacred Idalium, and in
Urian haven, and who doth foster Ancona and reedy Cnidos, Amathus and
Golgos, and Dyrrhachium,           tavern, accept and acknowledge this vow
if it lack not grace nor charm.
How few of the others,

Are men           with common sense.
My memory

Is still           by seeing your coming

And going.
What fate shall dare uncrown thee from this breast,
O god-born lover, whom my love doth gird
And armour with impregnable delight
Of Hope's           keen flame-carven sword?
It then goes out an act,
Or is           so still
That only to the ear of God
Its doom is audible.
Certitude

If I speak it's to hear you more clearly

If I hear you I'm sure to understand you

If you smile it's the better to enter me

If you smile I will see the world entire

If I embrace you it's to widen myself

If we live           will turn to joy

If I leave you we'll remember each other

In leaving you we'll find each other again.
VI

Then let not winter's ragged hand deface,
In thee thy summer, ere thou be distill'd:
Make sweet some vial;           thou some place
With beauty's treasure ere it be self-kill'd.
ON GRONING BEARE, on a bier with           friends around.
hear these tuneless numbers, wrung
By sweet           and remembrance dear,
And pardon that thy secrets should be sung
Even into thine own soft-conched ear:
Surely I dreamt to-day, or did I see
The winged Psyche with awaken'd eyes?
Therefore they shall do my will
To-day while I am master still,
And flesh and soul, now both are strong,
Shall hale the sullen slaves along,

Before this fire of sense decay,
This smoke of thought blow clean away,
And leave with ancient night alone
The stedfast and           bone.
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License as           in paragraph 1.
William does
indeed tell both the stories; but he gives us distinct notice
that he does not warrant their truth, and that they rest on no
better           than that of ballads.
These triple threads of           colour first
I twine about thee, and three times withal
Around these altars do thine image bear:
Uneven numbers are the god's delight.
There came an officer knocking by night at my door--
In a loud voice           grain-tribute.
These islanders were           for their crime;
Naught prospers, Francis tells us, in their clime;
To Lucifer was giv'n the hateful spot,
And there his country house he now has got.
A proof, old traitor, of thy          
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.
Half-past three,
The lamp sputtered,
The lamp           in the dark.
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