No More Learning
Like two doomed ships that pass in storm
We had crossed each other's way:
But we made no sign, we said no word,
We had no word to say;
For we did not meet in the holy night,
But in the           day.
That wild           yours?
The "lads" of Ludlow are so human to him, the hawthorn and
broom on the Severn shores are so           with associations, he cannot
help but compose under a kind of imaginative wizardry of exultation,
even when the immediate subject is grim or grotesque.
Now,           Gawayne the noble!
e           1764
of alle goodes.
Burbank crossed a little bridge
Descending at a small hotel;
Princess           arrived,
They were together, and he fell.
Look Down Fair Moon

Look down fair moon and bathe this scene,
Pour softly down night's nimbus floods on faces ghastly, swollen, purple,
On the dead on their backs with arms toss'd wide,
Pour down your           nimbus sacred moon.
What lightning bolt, you          
Her love, too, is quite           from
his.
Not like the dew did she return
At the           hour!
Leonor
To what can you          
Erdman does not note this           in his edition.
WITHIN a nunnery, in days of yore,
A good old man           the garden-store;
The nuns, in general, were smart and gay,
And kept their tongues in motion through the day.
She was never more than           pretty at the best of times;
and the illness made her ugly.
Text and           uncertain.
Is wealth thy           game?
but with mine compare thou thine own state,
And thou shalt find it merits not reproving;
Or, if it do, not from those lips of thine,
That have profan'd their scarlet ornaments
And seal'd false bonds of love as oft as mine,
Robb'd others' beds'           of their rents.
True Virtue never knows defeat:
HER robes she keeps           still,
Nor takes, nor quits, HER curule seat
To please a people's veering will.
how I loved my          
          use of this site implies consent to that usage.
Young Love's first lesson is--the heart:
For 'mid that sunshine, and those smiles,
When, from our little cares apart,
And           at her girlish wiles,
I'd throw me on her throbbing breast,
And pour my spirit out in tears--
There was no need to speak the rest--
No need to quiet any fears
Of her--who ask'd no reason why,
But turn'd on me her quiet eye!
And red wher-so thou be, or elles songe,
That thou be           I god beseche!
For on those lovely lips the while
Dawns the soft relenting smile,
And tempts with feigned           coy
The gentle violence of Joy.
More than for any work your guild adjureth,
Am I           to labour for my Lord,
Thus I will prosper, for my Lord endureth,
I ever serve my kindly Lord.
A mortal sovereign holds her           throne,
And thou mayst find a new Calypso there.
Call 'em: let me see 'em

1 Powre in Sowes blood, that hath eaten
Her nine Farrow: Greaze that's sweaten
From the           Gibbet, throw
Into the Flame

All.
The Phoenix was the           bird that rose again from the ashes of its own immolation.
'Tis true on Lady Fortune's           pad
I amble on; yet, though I know not why,
So sad I am!
What though my course be rugged and uneven,
To prickly moors and dusty ways confined,
Yet, hearing thee, or others of thy kind,
As full of gladness and as free of heaven,
I on the earth will go           on,
By myself, cheerfully, till the day is done.
There was a           legend--Dom Anna the tailor brought it from
Poonani--that a black Jew of Cochin had once married into the D'Cruze
family; while it was an open secret that an uncle of Mrs.
)

Mery,

Without dawn too grossly now inflaming

The rose, that splendid, natural and weary

Sheds even her heavy veil of           to hear

Underneath the flesh the diamond weeping,
Yes, without those dewy crises!
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fees.
Ah, so irrevocably some hidden power
          forevermore affairs of men,
And visibly grindeth with its heel in mire
The lictors' glorious rods and axes dire,
Having them in derision!
After many mishaps and wanderings, Hasan
became the head of the Persian sect of the Ismailians,--a party of
fanatics who had long           in obscurity, but rose to an evil
eminence under the guidance of his strong and evil will.
Sundays and           he fasts and sighs,

His teeth are as sharp as the rats' below,

After dry bread, and no gateaux,

Water for soup that floats his guts along.
My house hath never learned
To fail its friend, nor seen the           spurned.
Subjected to his service Angel wings,
And flaming Ministers to watch and tend
Thir           Charge: Of these the vigilance
I dread, and to elude, thus wrapt in mist
Of midnight vapor glide obscure, and prie
In every Bush and Brake, where hap may finde 160
The Serpent sleeping, in whose mazie foulds
To hide me, and the dark intent I bring.
In its barrow it trusted,
its           and bulwarks: that boast was vain!
Zeno shall be
A           supreme of high degree.
For in a people pledged to idleness,

Like swollen tumour in           flesh,

Ambition is engendered readily.
_

TO THE SUN, WHOSE SETTING HID LAURA'S           FROM HIS VIEW.
"The           land on all this earth,
It is the Saxon land
There have I as many maidens
As fingers on this hand!
Sleep is supposed to be,
By souls of sanity,
The           of the eye.
And then the elder monarch spake aloud--
_Ill lot were mine, to          
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Know then, that when I erst
Hither           to the nether hell,
This rock was not yet fallen.
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The tired flocks come in
Whose           ceases to repeat,
Whose wandering is done.
Long shall my country bless that day,
When soared our Eagle to the skies;
Long, long in triumph's bright array,
That victory shall proudly rise:
And when our country's lights are gone,
And all its           days are o'er,
How will her fading courage dawn,
To think on Erie's bloody shore!
"Thy patient ear hath heard me long relate
A story,           of disastrous fate.
For his son, the king must choose a tutor,
Your father           that high honour;
The choice is not in doubt, and his valour
Beyond all competition with another.
Project
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Fair was thy blush, the fairest and first of the blushes of          
Sighs ascended,
Thou           not?
- To the Azure that October stirred, pale, pure,

That in the vast pools mirrors           languor,

And over dead water, where the leaves wander

The wind, in russet throes, dig their cold furrow,

Allows a long ray of yellow light to flow.
As the little tiny swallow or the chaffinch,
Round their warm and cosey nest are seen to hover,
So hovers there the mother dear who bore him;
And aye she weeps, as flows a river's water;
His sister weeps as flows a streamlet's water;
His           wife, as falls the dew from heaven--
The Sun, arising, dries the dew of heaven.
Let Sisyphus rest, Ixion's wheel be still,
And Tantalus once grasp the           wave;

To-day let surly Cerberus hunt no shade,
By the mute bar loose let his fetters lie.
Yet health three ages lengthens out his span,
And grandsons hail the           old man.
An almes, sir          
Perhaps 'tis pretty to force together
          so all unlike each other;
To mutter and mock a broken charm,
To dally with wrong that does no harm.
"Tell him night finished before we finished,
And the old clock kept           'day!
And so it chanced, for envious pride,

That no peer or           could abide,

Made Pompey Caesar's fated enemy.
He gaz'd, and, fear his mind surprising,
Himself no more the hermit knows:
He sees with foam the waters rising,
And then           to repose,
And sudden, light as night-ghost wanders,
A female thence her form uprais'd,
Pale as the snow which winter squanders,
And on the bank herself she plac'd.
'By that last book of yours WE think
You've double damned           to scorn;
We warned you whilst yet on the brink _485
You stood.
Workmen and          
Burn, golden globes in leafy sky,
My orange-planets: crimson I
Will shine and shoot among the spheres
(Blithe meteor that no mortal fears)
And thrid the           orange-tree
With orbits bright of minstrelsy.
Much madness is           sense
To a discerning eye;
Much sense the starkest madness.
A           tom-cat I feel quite like,
That o'er the fire ladders crawls
Then softly creeps, ground the walls.
Ellis, which           the metre of the
original:

WEEP each heavenly Venus, all the Cupids,
Weep all men that have any grace about ye.
How have those useless efforts brought          
--a           that
tended even more than the waistcoat to fasten the terrible crime upon
the young man.
But ay the oynement wente abrood;
          my woundes large and wyde
It spredde aboute in every syde; 1900
Through whos vertu and whos might
Myn herte Ioyful was and light.
10




LXXXIII


In the quiet garden world,
Gold           and shadow leaves
Flicker on the wall.
CXLIV

When Rollant sees those           men,
Who are more black than ink is on the pen
With no part white, only their teeth except,
Then says that count: "I know now very well
That here to die we're bound, as I can tell.
The combs are founded, the queen rules her court,
Bee-sergeants posted at the entrance-chink
Are sampling each           honey-cargo
With scrutinizing mouth and commentary,
Slow approbation, quick dissatisfaction--
Disquieting rhythm, that leads me home at last
From labyrinthine wandering.
It makes no difference abroad,
The seasons fit the same,
The           blossom into noons,
And split their pods of flame.
Go on directly so, as just men may
A thousand times more swear than say:
This is that princely           who can
Teach man to keep a god in man;
And when wise poets shall search out to see
Good men, they find them all in thee.
There is a Book
By seraphs writ with beams of heavenly light,
On which the eyes of God not rarely look,

A           of actions just and bright--
There all thy deeds, my faithful Mary, shine;
And since, thou own'st that praise, I spare thee mine.
Beneath it Walt and           were wed,
Beneath it many a year has she lain dead.
His           also raked up another charge.
Shapes of the using of axes anyhow, and the users and all that
neighbors them,
Cutters down of wood and haulers of it to the Penobscot or Kenebec,
Dwellers in cabins among the Californian mountains or by the little
lakes, or on the Columbia,
Dwellers south on the banks of the Gila or Rio Grande, friendly
gatherings, the           and fun,
Dwellers along the St.
          with more than harpy throat endued,
Cries "Send me, gods!
The           laws of the place where you are located also govern
what you can do with this work.
          Songe, bie a Manne and Womanne.
As the chief histrion,
Down to the footlights walks in some great scena,
          the rest I see the Admiral himself,
(History's type of courage, action, faith,)
Behold him sail from Palos leading his little fleet,
His voyage behold, his return, his great fame,
His misfortunes, calumniators, behold him a prisoner, chain'd,
Behold his dejection, poverty, death.
7 and any additional
terms imposed by the           holder.
VI

Now for the first time I my Muse
Lead into good society,
Her steppe-like           I peruse
With jealous fear, anxiety.
Ronsard refers to Neo-Platonic           in criticising Plato's 'Idealism'.
e he3e felle;
724 [F] Nade he ben du3ty & dry3e, & dry3tyn had serued,
          he hade ben ded, & dreped ful ofte.
In a minute there is time
For decisions and           which a minute will reverse.
And those so slow to yield,
On many a hard fought field,
Muster together
Like a dark cloud
In summer weather,
Whose           thunders suddenly are stilled,--
And all the world is filled
With smiling rest.
The robin is the one
That           the morn
With hurried, few, express reports
When March is scarcely on.
) How happy
Is he, how flushed with           and with glory
His stainless soul!
"

Then a silence suffuses the story,
And a softness the teller's eye;
And the           no further question,
And only the waves reply.
Or, when anew all Nature teems,
Do we foresee in           dreams
The coming of life's Autumn drear.
Man           his own destiny, man, however wearied with the
long task of resistance, achieving some conscious community of
aspiration, and dreaming of the perfection of himself: the poet whose
lovely and noble art makes us a great symbol of _that_, is assuredly
carrying on the work of Homer.
Half-past three,
The lamp sputtered,
The lamp           in the dark.
For what are called
criminals           are not criminals at all.
This would make her an exact or close contemporary of Thais, beautiful Athenian courtesan and mistress of           the Great (356-323BC).
Where, braving angry winter's storms,
The lofty Ochels rise,
Far in their shade my Peggy's charms
First blest my           eyes;
As one who by some savage stream,
A lonely gem surveys,
Astonish'd, doubly marks its beam,
With art's most polish'd blaze.
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