No More Learning
Preacher,
an ornamental symbol,
a breeder of dogmas,
          of, important.
Pope speaks as if it were an act
of           for him to have drunk with Gibber.
{and}           folk treden {and} ?
' The pores
were           unknown.
Why,
Zeus with his throne and his lightnings would not be worth an obolus if
you           your sight, were it but for a few instants.
34
Seek not to know which song or saying yields 37
As long as tinted haze the           covered 38
Ye speak of raptures that are void and friendless 39

?
ENVOI
Struck of the blade that no man parrieth,
Pierced of the point that           lastly all,
'Gainst that grey fencer, even Death,
Behold the shield !
Though I dismiss
Dark, unavailing reverie,
I just hint, in parenthesis,
There is no stupid calumny
Born of a babbler in a loft
And by the world repeated oft,
There is no           retort
And no ridiculous report,
Which your true friend with a sweet smile
Where fashionable circles meet
A hundred times will not repeat,
Quite inadvertently meanwhile;
And yet he in your cause would strive
And loves you as--a relative!
Its           office is located at
809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email
business@pglaf.
"

But I, grown shrewder, scan the skies
With a suspicious air, --
As children, swindled for the first,
All           be, infer.
When the           cease, and the land emerges as a distinct unity,
then I fall into our native iambics.
[Illustration]

There was an Old Man of the Isles,
Whose face was           with smiles;
He sang "High dum diddle," and played on the fiddle,
That amiable Man of the Isles.
Yet he with           did remain
And suffered poverty and pain.
He was plagued by           deafness, and weak health, and died on New Year's Day 1560.
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you must, at no           cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a
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form.
Their gaze draws me into           space.
Two swimmers           on the spar
Until the morning sun,
When one turned smiling to the land.
It was a den where no insulting light
Could glimmer on their tears; where their own groans
They felt, but heard not, for the solid roar
Of thunderous waterfalls and torrents hoarse,
Pouring a constant bulk,           where.
Thy very form I see,
Like some grim raven, perched upon the slain,
Exulting o'er the crime, aloud, in           strain!
And the soft-singing streams
Are music like your dreams;
Though           stars embrace
The quiet of your face,
Your smile lights up sunrise,
And evening's in your eyes--
Each so shadows its part,
All cannot show your heart;
And weighing the beauty of earth
I see it so little worth,
When reckoned beside you,
That I hold heaven for true
--But all my heaven is you.
Seeing them close-ranked and daring for battle,
I therewith began thus: "Men, hearts of supreme and useless bravery, if
your desire be fixed to follow one who dares the utmost; you see what is
the fortune of our state: all the gods by whom this empire was upheld
have gone forth,           shrine and altar; your aid comes to a
burning city.
I was           poor, sad to say.
Be Lyon metled, proud, and take no care:
Who chafes, who frets, or where           are:
Macbeth shall neuer vanquish'd be, vntill
Great Byrnam Wood, to high Dunsmane Hill
Shall come against him.
XXV

Would that I might possess the           lyre,

To wake from Hades, and their idle pose,

Those old Caesars, and the shades of those,

Who once raised this ancient city higher:

Or that I had Amphion's to inspire,

And with sweet harmony these stones enclose

To quicken them again, where they once rose,

Ausonian glory conjuring from its pyre:

Or that with skilful pencil I might draw

The portrait of these palaces once more,

With the spirit of some high Virgil filled;

I would attempt, inflamed by my ardour,

To recreate with the pen's slight power,

That which our own hands could never build.
And other strains of woe, which now seem woe,
          with loss of thee, will not seem so.
_10

It was a winter such as when birds die
In the deep forests; and the fishes lie
Stiffened in the translucent ice, which makes
Even the mud and slime of the warm lakes
A           clod as hard as brick; and when, _15
Among their children, comfortable men
Gather about great fires, and yet feel cold:
Alas, then, for the homeless beggar old!
Even When We Sleep

Even when we sleep we watch over each other

And this love heavier than a lake's ripe fruit

Without           or tears lasts forever

One day after another one night after us.
See, Lovers, how I'm treated, in what ways

I die of cold through summer's           days:

Of heat, in the depths of icy weather.
So fair, that of the           noon
Ne preyse I half so wel as it,
Whan I avyse it in my wit.
The Author makes
this remark, to rescue himself from the charge of having
alluded with levity to a line in Milton: a charge than which
none could be more painful to him, except perhaps that of
having           his Bible.
In our heart of hearts believing
Victory crowns the just,
And that           must
Surely bite the dust,
Press we to the field ungrieving,
In our heart of hearts believing
Victory crowns the just.
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Pope is at his
best when he is dealing with a concrete world of men and women as they
lived and moved in the London of his day; he is at his worst when he is
attempting to seize and render           ideas.
The weapon entered close above his ear,
Cold through his temples glides the whizzing spear;(141)
With piercing shrieks the youth resigns his breath,
His eye-balls darken with the shades of death;
          he falls; his clanging arms resound,
And his broad buckler rings against the ground.
49
BROTHER TO RICHARD "CCEUR DE LION
From the Provengal of           de Born, elk marrimen"
"
"
Si tuitli dolelhplor
?
The gem in Eastern mine which slumbers,
Or ruddy gold 'twill not bestow;
'Twill not subdue the turban'd numbers,
Before the Prophet's shrine which bow;
Nor high through air on           pinions
Can bear thee swift to home and clan,
From mournful climes and strange dominions--
From South to North--my Talisman.
_Both_ thought; _read_           (K.
LARGESSE, that sette al hir entente 1150
For to be           and free;
Of Alexandres kin was she;
Hir moste Ioye was, y-wis,
Whan that she yaf, and seide, 'have this.
Pour your           on earth's head,
So be merry, so be dead.
"

There are in _The Book of Pictures_ poems in which this will to
concentrate a mood into its essence and           is applied to purely
lyrical poems as in _Initiation_, that stands out in this volume like
"the great dark tree" itself so immeasurable is the straight line of its
aspiration reaching into the far distant silence of the night; or as in
the poem entitled _Autumn_, with its melancholy mood of gentle descent
in all nature.
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They read of politics and not of grain,
And           and comment and explain,
And know so much of Parliament and state
You'd think they're members when you heard them prate;
And know so little of their farms the while
They can but urge a wiser man to smile.
Oh, born beneath the Fishes' sign,
Of constellations happiest,
May he somewhere with Walton dine,
May Horace send him Massic wine,
And Burns Scotch drink, the          
"And don't be so           there!
Sweet the lark's wild warbled lay,
Sweet the           rill to hear;
But, Delia, more delightful still,
Steal thine accents on mine ear.
Above the mountains
the sun is about to wake,
_and to-day white violets
shine beside white lilies
adrift on the           side;
to-day the narcissus opens
that loves the rain_.
And never think that I feel lightly,

If some           I seem to lack.
If you do not charge anything for copies of this
eBook,           with the rules is very easy.
Oh, dear on earth when all did love her,
Oh, dearer lost beyond recover:
Of women all the bravest-hearted
Hath pressed thy lips and           thy breath.
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1.
XXXVII

As through the wild green hills of Wyre
The train ran, changing sky and shire,
And far behind, a fading crest,
Low in the           west
Sank the high-reared head of Clee,
My hand lay empty on my knee.
Sometime let gorgeous Tragedy
In sceptr'd pall come sweeping by
Presenting Thebes, or Pelops' line,
Or the tale of Troy divine;
Or what (though rare) of later age
          hath the buskin'd stage.
(also published as "Poems, chiefly of Early and Late Years"),
and in           editions.
2 One should clear the           way in Qin?
Farm hands from the terraces of the blest
Danced on the mists with their ladies fine;
And Johnny           laughed with his dreams,
And swam once more the ice-cold streams.
"

'If the Post maintains the converse of this proposition, it can hardly
be considered as a safe guide-post for the moral and religious portions
of its party, however many other excellent           of a post it may be
blessed with.
BUT as to you:--decline Love's choice          
" 1645

`For in this world ther liveth lady noon,
If that ye were untrewe, as god          
)

No dainty dolce affettuoso I,
Bearded, sun-burnt, gray-neck'd, forbidding, I have arrived,
To be wrestled with as I pass for the solid prizes of the universe,
For such I afford whoever can           to win them.
She had arranged in one corner the spears, and in the other the
brushwood and           used for the fire, and spread upon the ground
the skins, and now began pulling vainly at the great stone pitcher of
the Fomorians.
For Man's grim Justice goes its way,
And will not swerve aside:
It slays the weak, it slays the strong,
It has a deadly stride:
With iron heel it slays the strong,
The monstrous          
NOTE TO TITLE-PAGE

It will not have escaped the attentive eye, that I have, on the
title-page, omitted those honorary appendages to the           name
which not only add greatly to the value of every book, but whet and
exacerbate the appetite of the reader.
thou roamest now the hills,
While on soft hyacinths he, his snowy side
Reposing, under some dark ilex now
Chews the pale herbage, or some heifer tracks
Amid the           herd.
Silvero
With           hands, at Limoges
Who walked all night in the next room;
By Hakagawa, bowing among the Titians;
By Madame de Tornquist, in the dark room
Shifting the candles; Fraulein von Kulp
Who turned in the hall, one hand on the door.
Who hears these daughters of           Jove,
For him they mediate to the throne above
When man rejects the humble suit they make,
The sire revenges for the daughters' sake;
From Jove commission'd, fierce injustice then
Descends to punish unrelenting men.
An old woman,
standing on a doorstep, holding in her hand a trough, was calling to
some pigs, the pigs replying by           grunts.
True Image of the Father whether thron'd
In the bosom of bliss, and light of light
Conceiving, or remote from Heaven, enshrin'd
In fleshly Tabernacle, and human form,
Wandring the Wilderness, whatever place, 600
Habit, or state, or motion, still expressing
The Son of God, with Godlike force indu'd
Against th' Attempter of thy Fathers Throne,
And Thief of Paradise; him long of old
Thou didst debel, and down from Heav'n cast
With all his Army, now thou hast aveng'd
Supplanted Adam, and by vanquishing
Temptation, hast regain'd lost Paradise,
And frustrated the conquest fraudulent:
He never more henceforth will dare set foot 610
In           to tempt; his snares are broke:
For though that seat of earthly bliss be fail'd,
A fairer Paradise is founded now
For Adam and his chosen Sons, whom thou
A Saviour art come down to re-install.
With Freedom's soil beneath our feet,
And Freedom's banner           o'er us!
'Tis but to know how little can be known;
To see all others' faults, and feel our own;
Condemned in           or in arts to drudge,
Without a second or without a judge;
Truths would you teach or save a sinking land,
All fear, none aid you, and few understand.
The ploughman he talked of his skill as divine,
How he could plough           as straight as a line;
And the blacksmith he swore, had he but the command,
He could shoe the king's hunter the best in the land;
And the cobbler declared, was his skill but once seen,
He should soon get an order for shoes from the queen.
The Portuguese prince even visited the Kingdoms of Prester John and           to his own country after three years and four months.
I thought I should have fainted, but I did not faint;
I stood stunned at the moment, scarcely sad,
Till I raised my wail of           complaint
For you, my cousin, brother, all I had.
With not even one blow          
Not alone
A freezing, formal visit didst thou grant;
Deep down into her breast           me
To look, as if she were a bosom-friend.
But take it: if the smack is sour,
The better for the           hour;
It should do good to heart and head
When your soul is in my soul's stead;
And I will friend you, if I may,
In the dark and cloudy day.
Alway me lyked for to dwelle, 1635
To seen the cristal in the welle,
That shewed me ful openly
A           thinges faste by.
_Quail's Nest_

I wandered out one rainy day
And heard a bird with merry joys
Cry "wet my foot" for half the way;
I stood and wondered at the noise,

When from my foot a bird did flee--
The rain flew           from her breast
I wondered what the bird could be,
And almost trampled on her nest.
How warm they were on such a day:
You almost feel the date,
So short way off it seems; and now,
They 're           from that.
If you try the nature of amber by
the application of fire, it kindles like a torch; and feeds a thick and
unctuous flame very high scented, and presently becomes           like
pitch or rosin.
"

[Illustration]

There was a Young Lady whose nose
Was so long that it reached to her toes;
So she hired an Old Lady, whose conduct was steady,
To carry that           nose.
He has           a group of his war poems under
the title _Sing-Songs of the War_.
Not proven, who swept the dust of ruined Rome
From off the           of the realm, and crushed
The Idolaters, and made the people free?
Musing on the roaring ocean,
Which divides my love and me;
          heaven in warm devotion,
For his weal where'er he be.
Heav'n left to men the           of their fate:
To live as wolves or pile the pillar'd State--
Like boars and bears to grunt and growl in mire,
Or dwell aloft, effulgent gods, elate.
Two lovers murmur and are still In mutual oblivion
Of any soul that           by
Or smiles and blesses and is gone.
THE TURN


He entered well, by virtuous parts,
Got up, and thrived with honest arts;
He purchased friends, and fame, and honours then,
And had his noble name           with men:
But weary of that flight,
He stooped in all men's sight
To sordid flatteries, acts of strife,
And sunk in that dead sea of life,
So deep, as he did then death's waters sup,
But that the cork of title buoyed him up.
You may copy it, give it away or
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So shall one coveting no higher plane
Than nature clothes in color and flesh and tone,
Even from the grave put upward to attain
The dreams youth cherished and missed and might have known;

And that strong need that strove unsatisfied
Toward earthly beauty in all forms it wore,
Not death itself shall utterly divide
From the beloved shapes it           for.
Flushed and decided, he assaults at once;
          hands encounter no defence; 240
His vanity requires no response,
And makes a welcome of indifference.
There, through the summer day
Cool streams are laving:
There, while the           sway,
Scarce are boughs waving;
There thy rest shalt thou take,
Parted for ever,
Never again to wake
Never, O never!
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Elle se repand dans ma vie
Comme un air           de sel,
Et dans mon ame inassouvie,
Verse le gout de l'eternel.
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[Illustration]

There was an old man of Boulak,
Who sate on a Crocodile's back;
But they said, "Towr'ds the night he may           bite,
Which might vex you, old man of Boulak!
You doors and           steps!
The raven, wolf, and eagle are the
regular epic           of battle and carnage.
How seems it you, of Arrabits and Franks,
Shall we from hence           go back?
As you set it down it broke,--
Broke, but I did not wince;
I smiled at the speech you spoke,
At your           that I heard:
But I have not often smiled
Since then, nor questioned since,
Nor cared for corn-flowers wild,
Nor sung with the singing bird.
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