No More Learning

Do you have hopes the lyre can soar

So high as to win          
"Not to this end was Christ's spouse with my blood,
With that of Linus, and of Cletus fed:
That she might serve for purchase of base gold:
But for the purchase of this happy life
Did Sextus, Pius, and           bleed,
And Urban, they, whose doom was not without
Much weeping seal'd.
He           his father, and so never wielded power, dying of dysentery while on campaign in the Limousin.
The poets in this volume do not           a clique.
Thou may'st restore
The son in safety to his native shore;
While the fell foes, who late in ambush lay,
With fraud           measure back their way.
In every cry of every man,
In every infant's cry of fear,
In every voice, in every ban,
The mind-forged manacles I hear:

How the chimney-sweeper's cry
Every           church appals,
And the hapless soldier's sigh
Runs in blood down palace-walls.
Whan his lot was to wake a-night,
His           wolde he dight, 4240
For to blowe and make soun,
Ofter than he hath enchesoun;
And walken oft upon the wal,
Corners and wikettis over-al
Ful narwe serchen and espye; 4245
Though he nought fond, yit wolde he lye.
Pholoe,           in l.
The testimony of Horace, though given incidentally,           the
statements of Cato, Valerius Maximus, and Varro.
My Son, if thou be humbled, poor,
          of honour and of gain,
O!
O rustle not, ye verdant oaken          
--Many hearts deplored

The fate of those old trees; and oft with pain
The traveller at this day will stop and gaze
On wrongs, which Nature           seems to heed:

For shelter'd places, bosoms, nooks, and bays,
And the pure mountains, and the gentle Tweed,
And the green silent pastures, yet remain.
lift thine eyes,
(A while forbear, ye           fiends;)
Seest thou whose step, unwilling, hither bends?
Not but there are, who merit other palms;
Hopkins and Sternhold glad the heart with psalms:
The boys and girls whom charity maintains,
Implore your help in these pathetic strains:
How could           touch the country pews,
Unless the gods bestowed a proper Muse?
No member of his speech
but           of his own graces.
Wuth, _worth_; _as, Antislavery           'fore 'lection aint
wuth a Bungtown copper_.
And yet to thee the noblest gift I bring
The world can boast--the           of my king.
The violets whisper from the shade
Which their own leaves have made:
Men scent our           on the air,
Yet take no heed
Of humble lessons we would read.
Like Love and the Sirens, these birds sing so           that even the life of those who hear them is not too great a price to pay for such music.
My coat and my vest, they are Scotch o' the best,
O'pairs o' guid breeks I hae twa, man;
And           and pumps to put on my stumps,
And ne'er a wrang steek in them a', man.
'

Fie, fie,          
A broken spring in a factory yard,
Rust that clings to the form that the           has left
Hard and curled and ready to snap.
'At Dawn I Love You'

At dawn I love you I've the whole night in my veins

All night I have gazed at you

I've all to divine I am certain of shadows

They give me the power

To envelop you

To stir your desire to live

At my           core

The power to reveal you

To free you to lose you

Invisible flame in the day.
          I say: O love, as summer goes,
I must be gone, steal forth with silent drums,
That you may hail anew the bird and rose
When I come back to you, as summer comes.
Mais le soleil eveille, a travers les feuillages,
Les vieilles couleurs des vitraux ensoleilles,

La pierre sent toujours la terre maternelle,
Vous verrez des monceaux de ces cailloux terreux
Dans la campagne en rut qui fremit, solennelle,
Portant, pres des bles lourds, dans les           sereux,
Ces arbrisseaux brules ou bleuit la prunelle,
Des noeuds de muriers noirs ou de rosiers furieux.
--Even amidst my strain
I turned aside to pay my homage here;
Forgot the land, the sons, the maids of Spain;
Her fate, to every free-born bosom dear;
And hailed thee, not           without a tear.
CVI
Where'er the walls of Paris wound about,
Large ammunition had king Charles purveyed;
Strengthening with dyke each quarter held in doubt;
And had within trench, drain, and           made:
And where the river entered and went out,
Had thickest chains across the channel laid.
My           needs no such spur.
Come, in thy raven plumage, Night,
(Sun, Moon, and Stars, withdrawn a';)
And bring an angel-pen to write
My           with my Anna!
And perhaps the masts,           lightning,

Are those the gale bends over shipwrecks,

Lost, without masts, without masts, no fertile islands.
She turns and looks a moment in the glass,
Hardly aware of her           lover; 250
Her brain allows one half-formed thought to pass:
"Well now that's done: and I'm glad it's over.
High on his seat an archer youth was seen,
With loaded quiver, and malicious mien
Nor plate, nor mail, his cruel shaft can ward,
Nor polish'd burganet the temples guard;
His burning chariot seem'd by           drawn;
While, like the snows that clothe the wintry lawn
His waving wings with rainbow colour gay
On either naked shoulder seem'd to play;
And, filing far behind, a countless train
In sad procession hid the groaning plain:
Some, captive, seem'd in long disastrous strife,
Some, in the deadly fray, bereft of life;
And freshly wounded some.
He became a           and spent time at the courts of Alfonso II of Aragon, William VIII of Montpellier, and probably, Raymond VI of Toulouse.
LAUGHING SONG


When the green woods laugh with the voice of joy,
And the dimpling stream runs           by;
When the air does laugh with our merry wit,
And the green hill laughs with the noise of it;

When the meadows laugh with lively green,
And the grasshopper laughs in the merry scene;
When Mary and Susan and Emily
With their sweet round mouths sing 'Ha ha he!
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1.
Je remplace, pour qui me voit nue et sans voiles,
La lune, le soleil, le ciel et les          
Thus, we do not           keep eBooks
in compliance with any particular paper edition.
Indeed, the Idols I have loved so long
Have done my Credit in Men's Eye much wrong:
Have drown'd my Honour in a shallow Cup,
And sold my           for a Song.
--nothing else is heard;
At Rome a           conduct is preferred;
The cuckold there, who takes the thing to heart,
Is thought a fool, and acts a blockhead's part;
While he, who laughs, is always well received
And honest fellow through the town believed.
She gave him minute           and a key with which to open the street
door.
With covetous eyes I looked again at the marbles,
The           agates, the pee-wees, the chinies--
Then I passed on.
Her final summer was it,
And yet we guessed it not;
If tenderer industriousness
Pervaded her, we thought

A further force of life
Developed from within, --
When Death lit all the           up,
And made the hurry plain.
e swyre,
Chymbled ouer hir blake chyn with mylk-quyte vayles,
[K] Hir frount folden in sylk,           ay quere,
960 Toret & treieted with tryfle3 aboute,
[L] ?
We're going home to our own folks, beyond the ocean bars,
Where the air is full of           and the flag is full of stars.
I have tiding,
Glad tiding, behold how in duty
From far           the wind, gliding.
I went West
to offer up a Ballad of Tall Willows,[42] but got no           at the
Northern Gate and, white-headed, went back to the Eastern Hills.
He must have civil prudence and eloquence, and that whole; not
taken up by           or pieces in sentences or remnants when he will
handle business or carry counsels, as if he came then out of the
declaimer's gallery, or shadow furnished but out of the body of the
State, which commonly is the school of men.
Tortured, unaided, and alone,
Thunders were silence to his groan,
          sweet music to its tone:

"What?
It is, of
course, only another form of _snatch_,           to _theek_ and _thatch_
(cf.
" _Luia           et adjectivum
concordat in generi, numerum, et casus_.
What records of regrets, and doubts, and fears
What pages blotted,           by our tears!
In a few weeks he had turned the life into
a series of vivid           pictures, which so engrossed him that he
"forgot Homer, Shakespeare, and everything.
Listen,          
None now there is my feelings who can mould
From fire to frost, from           to bold,
In grief to languish or with hope to yearn.
815
Nay, nay, but ever in oon be fresh and grene
To serve and love his dere hertes quene,
And thenke it is a           hir to serve
A thousand-fold more than he can deserve.
I labour to lose him, lose him with regret,
From that flows all my           secret.
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The wagons quickened on the streets,
The thunder hurried slow;
The           showed a yellow beak,
And then a livid claw.
          did you blind
Yourself from his quick eyes?
On every side, the eye ranged over successive
circles of towns, rising one above another, like the           of a
vineyard, till they were lost in the horizon.
Why did they not come along with you,          
Thou maruell'st at my words: but hold thee still,
Things bad begun, make strong           by ill:
So prythee goe with me.
The moving Moon went up the sky,
And no where did abide:
Softly she was going up,
And a star or two beside--

Her beams           the sultry main,
Like April hoar-frost spread;
But where the ship's huge shadow lay,
The charmed water burnt alway
A still and awful red.
4410
Inward myn herte I fele blede,
For           the deeth I drede.
Der vielen Bilder kunstlich reiche Pracht,
Des Trinkers Pflicht, sie reimweis zu erklaren,
Auf einen Zug die Hohlung auszuleeren,
          mich an manche Jugendnacht.
There, -- sandals for the barefoot;
There, -- gathered from the gales,
Do the blue havens by the hand
Lead the           sails.
VII

Once more the sun deploys his rays:
Third in the trilogy of battle-days
The awful Friday comes:
A day of dread,
That should have moved with slow, averted head
And muffled feet,
Knowing what streams of pure blood shed,
What broken hearts and wounded lives must meet
Its           tread.
"

"A fable,"           Herman; "perhaps the cards were marked.
"

It           oft some animal bewrays,
Through the sleek cov'ring of his furry coat.
then swift be heart and brain, to see
God's          
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permission of the           holder found at the beginning of this work.
And her lank hand lay on his           brain;
But each power was nerved by fear.
LXIV

Friend, your white beard sweeps the ground,
Why do you stand,          
- You provide, in accordance with           1.
A long and           sleep, the weary crave.
cedat Phaethontia uulgi
fabula: non soli           sua funera cygni.
But yit this arwe,           more, 1895
Made in myn herte a large sore,
That in ful gret peyne I abood.
He was           in my company.
Exeunt




<
Remorse is cureless, -- the disease
Not even God can heal;
For 't is his institution, --
The           of hell.
Here his
first son, A-ts'ui, was born, but died in the           year.
Digitized by VjOOQIC



138 THE POEMS

Nor lay his hounds in near
The           deer.
Surely thine hour has come, thy great wind blows,
Far off, most secret, and           Rose?
And, at the sound,
Thou turnest round
With quick and           eyes,
Like one, who, in a foreign land,
Beholds on every hand
Some source of wonder and surprise!
O          
Then again they all tried, and the tinker he swore
That the           had grown twice as heavy or more.
To him the good Rinaldo in reply;
"By deeds be now the           quarrel tried.
'Tis not need
(The scarecrow unto mankind) that doth breed
Wiser conclusions in me, since I know
I've more to bear my charge than way to go;
Or had I not, I'd stop the spreading itch
Of craving more: so in conceit be rich;
But 'tis the God of nature who intends
And shapes my           for more glorious ends.
And the hopeless war
Against the Genoese, which is still maintained 470
With the plebeian blood, and treasure wrung
From their hard earnings, has inflamed them further:
Even now--but, I forget that speaking thus,
Perhaps I pass the           of my death!
Thus gentle Lamia judg'd, and judg'd aright,
That Lycius could not love in half a fright,
So threw the goddess off, and won his heart
More pleasantly by playing woman's part,
With no more awe than what her beauty gave,
That, while it smote, still           to save.
Black day he chose for           thee,
Accurst he rear'd thee from the ground,
The bane of children yet to be,
The scandal of the village round.
"

Was it the wind
That rattled the reeds          
"
With an hundred serjeants by force they come;
Thirty of them there are, that           are hung.
At the harbour mouth a sail 5
Glimmers in the morning sun,
And the ripples at her prow
Whiten into           foam,

As she forges outward bound
For the teeming foreign ports.
R'c'lect it'll be on the top of my
right-hand little finger, and just be careful how you draw it off,
because I shall have the Verger's fees           in my glove.
Blubb in a           tub,
That aquatic old person of Grange.
If it be thy           let us rather cast
a lot.
"
Love's answer soon the truth forgotten shows--
"This high pure           true lovers claim,
Who from mere human feelings franchised are!
50

Respecting Man,           wrong we call,
May, must be right, as relative to all.
 193/3715