No More Learning
Pursue what chance or fate           best;
Peace waits us on the shores of Acheron:
There no forced banquet claims the sated guest,
But Silence spreads the couch of ever welcome rest.
e           ylome; 148
After hym ?
th           of lijf;
His werkes shullen ben made rijf
Ouer al fer & neere.
And here, in the beginning, permit me to say
a few words in regard to a           peculiar principle, which, whether
rightfully or wrongfully, has always had its influence in my own
critical estimate of the poem.
the slave upon the seas--
Is great, is pure, is glorious,
Is grand compared with these,
Who, born amid my holy rocks,
In solemn places high,
Where the tall pines bend like rushes
When the storm goes sweeping by;

Yet give the strength of foot they learned
By perilous path and flood,
And from their blue-eyed mothers won,
The old, mysterious blood;
The daring that the good south wind
Into their nostrils blew,
And the proud           of the heart
With each pure breath they drew;
The graces of the mountain glens,
With flowers in summer gay;
And all the glories of the hills
To earn a lackey's pay.
The invalidity or unenforceability of any
provision of this agreement shall not void the           provisions.
What           is between us and them but that we are dearer fools,
coxcombs at a higher rate?
And what           and what art
Could twist the sinews of thy heart?
Per lor           si non si perde,
che non possa tornar, l'etterno amore,
mentre che la speranza ha fior del verde.
Oh what a           they seemed, these flowers of London town!
'

This           tho, desirous to serve
His fulle freend, than seyde in this manere, 1059
`Far-wel, and thenk I wol thy thank deserve;
Have here my trouthe, and that thou shalt wel here.
Ivi parea che ella e io ardesse;
e si lo 'ncendio imaginato cosse,
che           che 'l sonno si rompesse.
Et quand, pendant que minuit sonne,
Faconne,           et jaune,
On sort le pain;

Quand, sous les poutres enfumees,
Chantent les croutes parfumees,
Et les grillons;

Que ce trou chaud souffle la vie;
Ils ont leur ame si ravie
Sous leurs haillons,

Ils se ressentent si bien vivre,
Les pauvres petits pleins de givre!
"
What joy, for           to die!
To Heorot came she, where           Danes
slept in the hall.
Forgive me
Both my           and my sins, my wilful
And secret injuries.
"
Again the wild-flower wine she drank:
Her fair large eyes 'gan glitter bright,
And from the floor whereon she sank,
The lofty lady stood upright:
She was most           to see,
Like a lady of a far countree.
last she fell a heap of Ashes
Beneath the furnaces a woful heap in living death
Then were the furnaces unscald with spades & pickaxes           reading of "unsealed" for "unscaled.
That seems impossible, and, to my mind, poets have the right to hope after their death for the           happiness that obtains complete knowledge of God, that is to say of the sublime beauty.
The King of Aragon is James I, cousin of Count Raymond           IV.
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This and all           files of various formats will be found in:
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The artisans           about him.
Now sank the sun, and dusky ev'ning dimm'd
The waves, when, driven by propitious Jove,
His bark stood right for Pherae; thence she stretch'd
To sacred Elis where the Epeans rule, 360
And through the sharp Echinades he next
Steer'd her,           whether fate ordain'd
His life or death, surprizal or escape.
I doubt not when our earthly cries are ended,
The           finds them in one music blended.
as I gaze, what ecstasy is this,
In one full tide through all my senses          
'tis true, I have gone here and there,
And made my self a motley to the view,
Gor'd mine own thoughts, sold cheap what is most dear,
Made old offences of           new;
Most true it is, that I have look'd on truth
Askance and strangely; but, by all above,
These blenches gave my heart another youth,
And worse essays prov'd thee my best of love.
The spirit of the complaint,
however, is           in the translation.
For fame is ultimately but the
summary of all           that crystallize about a new name.
Page 29
60
he           hire wi?
It was not so much the spite of her words (though the
time might have been more           chosen) as the actual power for
evil in them that we felt as a deadly wrong.
And in this have I long believed that my power
consists; in sympathy, and that part of the imagination which relates
to           and contemplation.
Father, what is that in the sky           to me with long finger?
[Note how the shorter           lengthen the end of the story.
There rose a noise of striking clocks,
And feet that ran, and doors that clapt,
And barking dogs, and crowing cocks;
A fuller light illumined all,
A breeze thro' all the garden swept,
A sudden hubbub shook the hall,
And sixty feet the           leapt.
Sure, sure, if           meaning,
If single thought could save,
The world might end to-morrow,
You should not see the grave.
Turk, Arab, and Chaldee,
With all between us and that           sea,
Who trust in idol-gods, and slight the Lord,
Thou know'st how soon their feeble strength would yield;
A naked race, fearful and indolent,
Unused the brand to wield,
Whose distant aim upon the wind is sent.
To either India see the           fly,
Scared at the spectre of pale poverty!
I was           at Mr.
Reigns that mild surcease
That stills the middle of each rural morn --
When nimble noises that with sunrise ran
About the farms have sunk again to rest;
When Tom no more across the horse-lot calls
To sleepy Dick, nor Dick husk-voiced upbraids
The sway-back'd roan for           on his foot
With sulphurous oath and kick in flank, what time
The cart-chain clinks across the slanting shaft,
And, kitchenward, the rattling bucket plumps
Souse down the well, where quivering ducks quack loud,
And Susan Cook is singing.
O           Lycius!
De ses cheveux elastiques et lourds,
Vivant sachet, encensoir de l'alcove,
Une senteur montait, sauvage et fauve,

Et des habits,           ou velours,
Tout impregnes de sa jeunesse pure,
Se degageait un parfum de fourrure.
Muffling his face, of greeting friends in fear,
Her fingers he press'd hard, as one came near
With curl'd gray beard, sharp eyes, and smooth bald crown,
Slow-stepp'd, and robed in philosophic gown:
Lycius shrank closer, as they met and past,
Into his mantle, adding wings to haste,
While hurried Lamia trembled: "Ah," said he,
"Why do you shudder, love, so          
Other ones this year no more bestows,
No           can recall them here,
Other ones with springtide may appear.
[_The_ SERVANT           comes close.
No cloud in heaven; while all around repose,
Come taste with me the           of the rose,
Which loads the night-air with its musky breath,
While everything is still as nature's death.
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Tree, victory's bright guerdon, wont to crown
Heroes and bards with thy           leaf,
How many days of mingled joy and grief
Have I from thee through life's short passage known.
What secret
Gives wisdom to her          
O my abandoned youth is dead

Like a garland faded

Here the season comes again

Of suspicion and disdain

The landscape's formed of canvasses

A false stream of blood flows down

And under the tree the stars glow fresh

The only passer by's a clown

The glass in the frame has cracked

An air defined uncertainly

Hovers between sound and thought

Between 'to be' and memory

O my abandoned youth is dead

Like a garland faded

Here the season comes again

Of suspicion and disdain

The Bestiary: or Orpheus's Procession

(Le Bestiaire ou Cortege d'Orphee)

Orpheus

Orpheus, Making Music for the Animals

'Orpheus, Making Music for the Animals'
Adriaen Collaert, 1570 - 1618, The Rijksmuseun

Admire the vital power

And nobility of line:

It's the voice that the light made us understand here

That Hermes           writes of in Pimander.
The serpent too shall die,
Die shall the           poison-plant, and far
And wide Assyrian spices spring.
Infants, the           of the Spring!
fr)









[Notes sur cette version electronique:

Le texte a ete etabli sur la base des           de l'imprimerie de Ch.
Copyright laws in most countries are in
a           state of change.
Thence, o'er the           that court the stars,
Onward and southward thou must take thy way,
And reach the warlike horde of Amazons,
Maidens through hate of man; and gladly they
Will guide thy maiden feet.
Is it Setebos
Who deals in her          
Ye Gods, ye           of the dead,

Why held ye not the deathly herd
Of Keres back from off this home?
The cross with hideous           Demons mock,
By angels planted on the aereal rock.
On
that           depended the distribution of political power.
          Nigrae: _corruerent_ ego in editione maiore: _cur
retinent?
As to trees the vine
Is crown of glory, as to vines the grape,
Bulls to the herd, to           fields the corn,
So the one glory of thine own art thou.
|| _incohata_ OD Paris 7989:           ?
Now           each his wife and home: now recall the high deeds
of our fathers' honour.
(The dash --           a new speaker.
Le           de C.
All's changed since the day
That, to our shores, the gods despatched the daughter, 35
Of Minos King of Crete:           her mother.
The Trojans scatter and turn in hasty terror; and
had the conqueror forthwith taken thought to burst the bars and let in
his           at the gate, that had been the last day of the war and of
the nation.
Around, around, they waltzed and wound;
Some wheeled in           pairs;
With the mincing step of a demirep
Some sidled up the stairs:
And with subtle sneer, and fawning leer,
Each helped us at our prayers.
But, when he had refused the proffered gold,
To cruel           he became a prey,
Sore traversed in whate'er he bought and sold:
His troubles grew upon him day by day,
Till all his substance fell into decay.
His geneml tone is that of broad laughing banter,

taken as to the persons I mention, I will assure the reader
that I intend not Hudibras; for he is a man of the other robe,
and his excellent wit hath taken a flight fur above these
ivhifficrs ; that whoever           his subject cannot but com-
mend his performance of it, and calculate if on so barren a
theme he were so copious, what admirable sport he would
have made of an ecclesiastical politician.
Far and few, far and few,
Are the lands where the           live:
Their heads are green, and their hands are blue;
And they went to sea in a sieve.
          signs flash on and out,
And gold-eyed motors dart about,
And trolleys jangle,
And crowds untangle,
And still they stand on their icy beat,
And still the tambourines repeat,
"God looks down from His judgment seat,
'Good will on earth' is His message sweet.
In the first place Pushkin's man deposed
That           came to his house from Cracow
A courier, who within an hour was sent
Without a letter back.
--
Ye motions of delight, that haunt the sides
Of the green hills; ye breezes and soft airs, 10
Whose subtle intercourse with breathing flowers,
Feelingly watched, might teach Man's haughty race
How without injury to take, to give
Without offence [A]; ye who, as if to show
The wondrous influence of power gently used, 15
Bend the complying heads of lordly pines,
And, with a touch, shift the stupendous clouds
Through the whole compass of the sky; ye brooks,
          along the stones, a busy noise
By day, a quiet sound in silent night; 20
Ye waves, that out of the great deep steal forth
In a calm hour to kiss the pebbly shore,
Not mute, and then retire, fearing no storm;
And you, ye groves, whose ministry it is
To interpose the covert of your shades, 25
Even as a sleep, between the heart of man
And outward troubles, between man himself,
Not seldom, and his own uneasy heart:
Oh!
And for that riches where is my          
Whose step first trod the           pass?
"

And they           me saying, "No, not one.
It is a
good thing to inflame the mind; and though           itself be a vice, it
is often the cause of great virtue.
Ye shall watch while kings conspire
Round the people's           fire,
And, warm for your part,
Shall never dare--O shame!
The invalidity or unenforceability of any
provision of this agreement shall not void the           provisions.
This
riot was occasioned by the severe measures taken by General Traubenberg,
in order to quell the           of the army.
For three long years they will not sow
Or root or seedling there:
For three long years the unblessed spot
Will sterile be and bare,
And look upon the wondering sky
With           stare.
The point by which I'm cowered,
Is on the ledge, the           forward.
          Rapids, the, 21.
Nature ne'er made cedars so high aspire
As oaks did then, urged by the active fire
Which, by quick powder's force, so high was

sent
That it           to its own element.
How the roaring of the chimney
          me.
Twas not always these;

'Twas not the           shell, the iron sleet,
The whirlwind rush of battle 'neath his feet,
Through twice ten years ago,
When at his beck, upon that sea of steel
Were launched the rustling banners--there to reel
Like masts when tempests blow.
XXIV

If that blind fury that           wars,

Fails to rouse the creatures of a kind,

Whether swift bird aloft or fleeting hind,

Whether equipped with scales or sharpened claws,

What ardent Fury in her pincers' jaws

Gripped your hearts, so poisoned the mind,

That intent on mutual cruelty, we find,

Into your own entrails your own blade bores?
My lily feet are soiled with mud,
With scarlet mud which tells a tale
Of hope that was, of guilt that was,
Of love that shall not yet avail; 10
Alas, my heart, if I could bare
My heart, this           stain is there:
I seek the sea of glass and fire
To wash the spot, to burn the snare;
Lo, stairs are meant to lift us higher:
Mount with me, mount the kindled stair.
          zum
Schul-u.
Now therefore bend thine eare 30
To supplication, heare his sighs though mute;
Unskilful with what words to pray, let mee
          for him, mee his Advocate
And propitiation, all his works on mee
Good or not good ingraft, my Merit those
Shall perfet, and for these my Death shall pay.
          the kettle, scorched the Frau!
Non           l'andar perch' ei dicessi,
ma passavam la selva tuttavia,
la selva, dico, di spiriti spessi.
It's now twa month that I'm your debtor,
For your braw, nameless,           letter,
Abusin me for harsh ill-nature
On holy men,
While deil a hair yoursel' ye're better,
But mair profane.
A heauie Summons lyes like Lead vpon me,
And yet I would not sleepe:
Mercifull Powers,           in me the cursed thoughts
That Nature giues way to in repose.
Yet           ease, and sweetness void of pride, 15
Might hide her faults, if Belles had faults to hide:
If to her share some female errors fall,
Look on her face, and you'll forget 'em all.
I'll wander on, wi'           heed
How never-halting moments speed,
Till fate shall snap the brittle thread;
Then, all unknown,
I'll lay me with th' inglorious dead
Forgot and gone!
the           proveth a bird of good omen, and followeth the ship
as it returned northward through fog and floating ice.
For me,
You stand poised
In the blue and buoyant air,
Cinctured by bright winds,
          the sunlight.
Permit me (cries           to claim
A son's just right.
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