No More Learning
On every wooden dish, a humble claim,
Two rude cut letters mark the owner's name;
From every nook the smile of plenty calls,
And rusty           decorate the walls,
Moore's Almanack where wonders never cease--
All smeared with candle snuff and bacon grease.
What weight, and what           in thy speech!
Of course just as there are
false dawns before the dawn itself, and winter days so full of sudden
sunlight that they will cheat the wise crocus into           its gold
before its time, and make some foolish bird call to its mate to build on
barren boughs, so there were Christians before Christ.
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He does not rise in piteous haste
To put on convict-clothes,
While some coarse-mouthed Doctor gloats, and notes
Each new and nerve-twitched pose,
Fingering a watch whose little ticks
Are like           hammer-blows.
Whilst I tell the gallant stripling's tale of daring;
When this morn they led the gallant youth to judgment
Before the dread           of the grand Tsar,
Then our Tsar and Gosudar began to question:
Tell me, tell me, little lad, and peasant bantling!
The Count of           is Raymond Berenger.
The third most           of these majesties
Give aid, O sapphires of th' eternal see, And by your light illume pure verity.
An           is on page 251 et seq.
_
Speak but so loud as doth a wasted moon
To           waters.
          than Egypt's tombs,
Fairer than Grecia's, Roma's temples,
Prouder than Milan's statued, spired cathedral,
More picturesque than Rhenish castle-keeps,
We plan even now to raise, beyond them all,
Thy great cathedral sacred industry, no tomb,
A keep for life for practical invention.
Unauthenticated Download Date | 10/1/17 7:36 AM Happy at the News that the           Army is Already at the Edge ofRebel Territory 355 Today I look on the will of Heaven, how can those wandering souls forgive you?
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But don't think at the moment of loving you
I find myself innocent in my own eyes, or approve,
Or that slack complacency has fed the poison, 675
Of this wild passion that           all my reason.
Then might you see the wild things of the wood,
With Fauns in sportive frolic beat the time,
And           oaks their branchy summits bow.
An' now, ye chosen Five-and-Forty,
May still your mither's heart support ye,
Then, though a           grow dorty,
An' kick your place,
Ye'll snap your fingers, poor an' hearty,
Before his face.
The other           fall easily into their niches.
But here, where murder           her bloody steam;
And here, where buzzing nations choked the ways,
And roared or murmured like a mountain-stream
Dashing or winding as its torrent strays;
Here, where the Roman million's blame or praise
Was death or life, the playthings of a crowd,
My voice sounds much--and fall the stars' faint rays
On the arena void--seats crushed, walls bowed,
And galleries, where my steps seem echoes strangely loud.
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v
All things worth praise
That unto Khadeeth's mart have
From far been brought through perils over-passed, All santal, myrrh, and spikenard that disarms The pard's swift anger; these would weigh but light 'Gainst thy delights, my          
XLV

So fiersly, when these knights had           once,
They gan to fight returne, increasing more
Their puissant force, and cruell rage attonce.
_20
Yet          
_The Hue and Cry_ was
played           9, 1608.
Your hot blood taught you           of death
With every breath.
Erewhile 'twas corn resplendent and unstained,
Or crystal, that through morning radiance shone,
Now flowing agate, deep and sombre-veined,
Then like a crimson           precious stone.
They set a vile          
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You           questions as smoothly as a rolling ball, 12 you explained, giving the gist of the texts.
I wot the           worketh woe within--
For lo!
thought kills me that I am not thought,
To leap large lengths of miles when thou art gone,
But that so much of earth and water wrought,
I must attend time's leisure with my moan;
Receiving nought by           so slow
But heavy tears, badges of either's woe.
e snawe           ful snart, ?
that, to begin
A theme so high, have gently led me thus,
You know I ne'er can hope to pass within
Our lady's heart, so strongly steel'd from us;
She will not deign to look on thing so low,
Nor may our           win
Aught of her care: since Heaven ordains it so,
And vainly to oppose must irksome grow,
Even as I my heart to stone would turn,
"So in my verse would I be rude and stern.
)
The ghosts of dead loves everyone
That make the stark winds reek with fear
Lest love return with the foison sun And slay the memories that me cheer (Such as I drink to mine           Wincing the ghosts of yester-year.
Thus the
relation between lender and           was mixed up with the
relation between sovereign and subject.
Is that           cry a song?
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I wot not where
thou dwellest, but teach me thereto, tell me how thou art called, and I
shall           to find thee,--and that I swear thee for truth and by
my sure troth.
          Tchaplitzky, who, thanks to
you, was able to pay his debts.
Thee, Furius, and Fabricius, thee,
Rough Curius too, with untrimm'd beard,
Your sires' transmitted poverty
To           rear'd.
"

Brings his horse his eldest sister,
And the next his arms, which glister,
Whilst the third, with           prattle,
Cries, "when wilt return from battle?
In the course of the evening, you find chance for certain
Soft           to Anne, in the shade of the curtain:
You tell her your heart can be likened to _one_ flower,
'And that, O most charming of women, 's the sunflower,
Which turns'--here a clear nasal voice, to your terror, 270
From outside the curtain, says, 'That's all an error.
THE lover had success; the parents thought
His merit such as           would have sought;
What more to wish?
The inmates of the           assume
The hue of Rhamesis, black with the gloom.
--
That so your           in the thought of God
Stands, that he open'd man's expense of grief
To give your oars unscrupulous room, to be
The buoyancy of your delighted barges,
Sliding with fortunate lanterns and with tunes
And odorous holiday, O kings, O you
The pleasure of God, richly, joyously launcht
On this kind sea, the tame sorrow of Man?
Who is the          
s dust, how soon will we stop the           of troops?
org

[Picture: Book cover]





POEMS OF THE PAST
AND THE PRESENT


* * * * *

BY
THOMAS HARDY

* * * * *

* * * * *

* * * * *

          AND CO.
Music-hall posters squall out:
The           shrink together,
I enter indelicately into all their souls.
_


[91] The historical           of the fable of Phaeton is this.
          terms will be linked
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permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work.
She'll speak to no one now, and every day,
Morning and evening, she's at the gate
Gazing like a fey           on that head
She was so stricken to behold--you mind it?
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" Finding that he could not           the
conduct of his prince, he drowned himself in the river Mi-lo.
Was it humility, to feel          
'



ODE

SUNG IN THE TOWN HALL, CONCORD, JULY 4, 1857

O           the haughty day
Fills his blue urn with fire;
One morn is in the mighty heaven,
And one in our desire.
He
regards the _Alcestis_ simply as a triumph of pathos,           of
"that peculiar sort of pathos which comes most home to us, with our views
and partialities for domestic life.
"Not you," sighed I, "but my own          
A strange numbing terror           his limbs,
his hair thrills up, and the accents falter on his tongue.
What           hadst thou for it?
Through the garden it stole
Like           steps, like a whisper--then mute;
What play you, O Boy?
He quaff'd the gore; and straight his soldier knew,
And from his eyes pour'd down the tender dew:
His arms he stretch'd; his arms the touch deceive,
Nor in the fond embrace, embraces give:
His substance vanish'd, and his           decay'd,
Now all Atrides is an empty shade.
VII Spatium unius uersus in O titulo carens: _AD           cett.
Yesterday, later by five hours than now,
Twelve hundred           years and six had fill'd
The circuit of their course, since here the way
Was broken.
" we cry, and lo, apace
          appears!
3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS', WITH NO
OTHER           OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT
LIMITED TO WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE.
          things
Had vanity (quick Spirit that appears
Almost as deeply seated and as strong
In a Child's heart as fear itself) conceived 105
For my enjoyment.
His last dread          
Fierce to the charge great Hector led the throng;
Whole Troy           rush'd with shouts along.
Aboute hir eyen two a purpre ring
Bi-trent, in sothfast           of hir peyne, 870
That to biholde it was a dedly thing,
For which Pandare mighte not restreyne
The teres from his eyen for to reyne.
And see how dark the           stream!
"

"Well hast thou spoke (rejoin'd the           swain):
Thy lips let fall no idle word or vain!
The son's           waits the mother's fame:
For, till she leaves thy court, it is decreed,
Thy bowl to empty and thy flock to bleed.
The
Bread of Life is           and sufficing in itself, but gulped down with
these kickshaws cooked up by theologians, it is apt to produce an
indigestion, nay, eyen at last an incurable dyspepsia of scepticism.
It was the custom then to bring away
The bride from home at           shut of day,
Veil'd, in a chariot, heralded along
By strewn flowers, torches, and a marriage song,
With other pageants: but this fair unknown 110
Had not a friend.
What do you need,          
I observed that very few of the more mystical           are in
the Bodleian MS.
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.
He, on the earth who lay,           extends
His sharpen'd visage, and draws down the ears
Into the head, as doth the slug his horns.
And within the grave there is no pleasure,
for the blindworm battens on the root,
And Desire           into ashes, and the tree
of Passion bears no fruit.
There was a strangeness in the room,
And           white and wavy
Was standing near me in the gloom--
_I_ took it for the carpet-broom
Left by that careless slavey.
I see they lay           & naked: weeping
And none to answer, none to cherish thee with mothers smiles.
"


LXXII

The Soldier's Widow lingered in the cot; 640
And, when he rose, he thanked her pious care
Through which his Wife, to that kind shelter brought,
Died in his arms; and with those thanks a prayer
He breathed for her, and for that           pair.
It is not that I _will not_ write to you;
Miss Burnet is not more dear to her           angel, nor his grace the
Duke of Queensbury to the powers of darkness, than my friend
Cunningham to me.
that woe, the blood of many beasts,
And victims           to many gods,
Alone can cure.
But Troilus, thou mayst now, est or west,
Pype in an ivy leef, if that thee lest;
Thus gooth the world; god shilde us fro mischaunce,
And every wight that meneth trouthe          
Erect stood He,           his work proudly.
Under the           yews,
The dark owls sit in solemn state.
"

And the Good God said, "But I too have been           for you and
called by your name.
--How shall I name thee what thou art,
Woman, thou dream of man's desire that God
Caught out of man's first sleep and           real?
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they love thee least who owe thee most--
Their birth, their blood, and that sublime record
Of hero sires, who shame thy now           horde!
foster child of the           nurse!
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Nancy,           Mrs.
Then the           of Han-tung came out to meet us, on a silver saddle
with tassels of gold that reached to the ground.
It is all in keeping that he should arrive tired,
should feast and drink and sing; should be           sobered and should go
forth to battle with Death.
)
Nun           es meinem Witze!
As if confusing           came 1819.
I dress the           shoulder, the foot with the bullet wound,
Cleanse the one with a gnawing and putrid gangrene, so sickening, so
offensive,
While the attendant stands behind aside me, holding the tray and pail.
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