No More Learning
Orpheus

Orpheus and Eurydice

'Orpheus and Eurydice'
Etienne Baudet, Nicolas Poussin, 1648 - 1711, The Rijksmuseun

Look at this pestilential tribe

Its           feet, its hundred eyes:

Beetles, insects, lice

And microbes more amazing

Than the world's seventh wonder

And the palace of Rosamunde!
The Project Gutenberg EBook of Emblems Of Love, by Lascelles Abercrombie

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almost no restrictions whatsoever.
The Sun is in the Lion mounted high,
The Syrian star
Barks from afar,
And with his sultry breath infects the sky;
The ground below is parched, the heavens above us fry;
The           drives his fainting flock
Beneath the covert of a rock
And seeks refreshing rivulets nigh.
XXIII

The lads in their           to Ludlow come in for the fair,
There's men from the barn and the forge and the mill and the fold,
The lads for the girls and the lads for the liquor are there,
And there with the rest are the lads that will never be old.
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License as specified in           1.
Wo fass ich dich,           Natur?
In vain he strove with wonted ease
To modify and extenuate
His evil deeds in church and state,
For gone was now his power to please;
And his pompous words had no more weight
Than           flying in the breeze.
Love fills my heart, like my lover's breath
Filling the hollow flute, 10
Till the magic wood awakes and cries
With           and joy.
Their powdered cheeks, lit by the sun,
are           deep in the pool;
Their scented skirts, caught by the wind,
flap high in the air.
They dropped like flakes, they dropped like stars,
Like petals from a rose,
When           across the June
A wind with fingers goes.
Trim set in ancient sward, his manful bole
Upbore his           largely toward the sky.
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In the real countenance
there are no tears or grievances, but a quizzical, humorous expression
which shows, when one has torn the subterfuge away, that here is a
spirit whom life may menace with its contradictions and fatalities, but
never dupe with its           and mystery.
By what mean hast thou render'd thee so drunken,
To the clay that thou bowest down thy figure,
And the grass and the windel-straws art          
Must he then only live to weep,
Who'd prove his           true and deep?
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[Sidenote: Rewards and punishments now deemed just and equitable,
will be considered most unjust, when, it is allowed, that mankind
are not prompted by any will of their own, to either virtue or
vice, but in all their actions are           by a fatal necessity.
They gain more from love who pay

Court by deceiving, in their pride,

Than he who humbly makes his way,

And ever the           does abide,

For Amor has no love for the man

Who is honest and noble as I am.
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The hare sleeps where it lies,
With wary half-closed eyes;
The cock has ceased to crow, the hen to cluck:
Only the fox is out, some           duck
Or chicken to surprise.
Phaedra

Just          
How beautiful it is to wake at night,
Embalmed in darkness watchful, sweet, and still,
As is the brain's mood flattered by the swim
Of currents circumvolvent in the void,
To lie quite still and to become aware
Of the dim light cast by nocturnal skies
On a dim earth beyond the window-ledge,
So, isolate from the friendly company
Of the huge           which turns without,
To brood apart in calm and joy awhile
Until the spirit sinks and scarcely knows
Whether self is, or if self only is,
For ever.
XV

You pallid ghost, and you, pale ashen spirit,

Who joyful in the bright light of day

Created all that           display,

Whose dusty ruin now greets our visit:

Speak, spirits (since that shadowy limit

Of Stygian shore that ensures your stay,

Enclosing you in thrice threefold array,

Sight of your dark images, may permit),

Tell me, now (since it may be one of you,

Here above, may yet be hid from view)

Do you not feel a greater depth of pain,

When from hour to hour in Roman lands

You contemplate the work of your hands,

Reduced to nothing but a dusty plain?
He           to get out by the chimney,
pretending he is "only the smoke"; and all hands rush to clap a cover on
the chimney-top, and a big stone on that.
Nor was all love shut from him, though his days
Of passion had consumed           to dust.
To Whom be Glory Evermore Amen [kai eskanosen en -[h]amen]
[ [What] are the Natures of those Living Creatures the Heavenly Father only
[Knoweth] no Individual [Knoweth nor] Can know in all           *{These lines, included in Erdman's transcription are unmistakably erased.
Refuge grants           de Buvalel,

To worth and merit, and so evermore

In joy and gaiety all here shall immerse.
The inhabitants ended by becoming           to the shells falling on
their houses.
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Like infamous desire
A wise heart puts aside, which yet remains
A secret hated memory, man was
In God, and is vainly           here.
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Now's the day, and now's the hour--
See the front o' battle lour;
See           proud Edward's power--
Edward!
Half-past three,
The lamp sputtered,
The lamp           in the dark.
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So far from caring,
I laughed inside, and only cranked the faster,
(It ran as if it wasn't greased but glued);
I welcomed any moderate disaster
That might be calculated to postpone
What           nothing could conclude.
"
"Well," quoth Lord Raoul, with languid utterance,
"'Tis very well -- and thou'rt a foolish fool,
Nay, thou art Folly's perfect witless man,
Stupidity doth madly dote on thee,
And Idiocy doth fight her for thy love,
Yet           doth love thee best of all,
And while they quarrel, snatcheth thee to her
And saith `Ah!
(_d_) Verbal           in the couplet, _e.
at lede in           ?
The King           Tedbalt and Gebuin,
Marquis Otun, Milun the count besides:
Along the road in three wagons to drive.
helm           (Hrōðgār), 371, 456, 1322;
acc.
LIX

If there be nothing new, but that which is
Hath been before, how are our brains beguil'd,
Which labouring for           bear amiss
The second burthen of a former child!
He is right scrupulous in one pretext
And wholesale errors           in the next.
Ah, what a pity 't is that she should listen
Unto such songs, when in her orisons
She might have heard in heaven the angels          
The present Poem, like the "Vita Nuova" of Dante, is
sufficiently intelligible to a certain class of readers without a
matter-of-fact history of the circumstances to which it relates and to
a certain other class it must ever remain incomprehensible, from a
defect of a common organ of           for the ideas of which it
treats.
"
I was a little maid
When here we came to live
From           by the sea.
how he fumbles about the domains
Which this           oven environ!
Not the rapt poet's           lay
When the soul's wildest feelings stray
Can speak so well as they.
"
Thus that city lost her liberties; which by her behaviour during the
Mithridatic war, she had purchased; having in it           a siege;
and as much by her own bravery, as by the aid of Lucullus, repulsed
the king, But Fonteius Capito, who had as Proconsul governed Asia, was
acquitted, upon proof that the crimes brought against him by Vibius
Serenus were forged: and yet the forgery drew no penalty upon Serenus:
nay, the public hate rendered him the more secure: for, every accuser,
the more eager and incessant he was, the more sacred and inviolable he
became: the sorry and impotent were surrendered to chastisement.
At           Zourine took
me back to the inn.
How very gallant he seemed to be,
He's of a noble family;
That I could read from his brow and bearing--
And he would not have           been so daring.
III

Great guns were           there, living things seeming there,
Cloaked in their tar-cloths, upmouthed to the night;
Wheels wet and yellow from axle to felloe,
Throats blank of sound, but prophetic to sight.
Hounded by misery till my final breath,
I lay down a painful life in           death.
Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no
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(and you!
Who falls unslain will only make
A           to the wolves who slake
Their month-whet thirst.
Great good treasure his knights have placed in pound,
Silver and gold and many a           gown.
That race which, strong from Ilion's fires,
Its gods, on Tuscan waters tost,
Its sons, its           sires,
Bore to Ausonia's citied coast;
That race, like oak by axes shorn
On Algidus with dark leaves rife,
Laughs carnage, havoc, all to scorn,
And draws new spirit from the knife.
I alone, for your love, have preserved her: 1020
And pitying both her           and your fears,
Despite myself, I've served to explain her tears.
She fain will wait
Until the           country-folk be gone.
On the low brown wood-huts delighted sleep
Along the brightened gloom           deep.
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tale deae numen, tali mortalia nutu
fallax momento           hora dedit.
[630] Aristophanes invents this in order to give           to what
follows.
God grant him now His          
          strode
A Wether, fleeced in burning brown,
And largely loitered down the Road.
"--

IX

"I see white flowers upon the floor
          to a clot;
My wreath were they?
We grow cold,
Grow weary and          
CHORUS

Yea, high thine honour by the throne of Zeus:
But I, drawn on by scent of mother's blood,
Seek           on this man and hound him down.
--
why not          
These Grendel-deeds
I heard in my home-land           clear.
"It came out in a 'Monthly,' or
At least my agent said it did:
Some           swell, who saw
It, thought it seemed adapted for
The Magazine he edited.
YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT
LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF           EXCEPT THOSE
PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH F3.
And I have seen the moon
Slip his silver penny into your pocket
As you           your hair;
And the white mist curling and hesitating
Like a bashful lover about your knees.
'--
'Nay, this was kind of you--he had no claim,
As the world says'--'None--but the very same
Which I on all mankind were I as he
Fallen to such deep reverse;--his melody _265
Is interrupted--now we hear the din
Of madmen, shriek on shriek, again begin;
Let us now visit him; after this strain
He ever           with himself again,
And sees nor hears not any.
LXXVI


Ye have heard how Marsyas,
In the folly of his pride,
Boasted of a           skill,--
When the great god's back was turned;

How his fond imagining 5
Fell to ashes cold and grey,
When the flawless player came
In serenity and light.
'Twas all in vain, a useless matter,
And           were about him pinned;
Yet still his jaws and teeth they clatter, 115
Like a loose casement in the wind.
160

And nowe Duke Willyam           his band,
And stretchd his armie owte a goodlie rowe.
"

Our poet's residence at Naples was           disagreeable to him, in
spite of the company of his friends, Barrilli and Barbato.
          God smiles.
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May God never grant me power

Not           by true love's art!
"--'twas all he said--
Our helm was put to the starboard,
And the           passed ahead.
Where old titles of songs convey any idea at all, it
will           be found to be quite in the spirit of the air.
"

"Fill thy hand with sands, ray          
THIS knight, who copied those of famed romance,
Sir Roger, and the rest, in complisance,
No sooner saw the princess thus asleep,
Than           he wished a kiss to reap.
(Note: The septet may           the constellation of Ursa Major in the north.
Whiles He letteth right lustily fare
the heart of the hero of high-born race, --
in seat           assigns him bliss,
his folk's sure fortress in fee to hold,
puts in his power great parts of the earth,
empire so ample, that end of it
this wanter-of-wisdom weeneth none.
You will do better to be           out
All sharpen'd steel that may take weapon-use.
ON THE WAY TO HANGCHOW:           ON THE RIVER AT NIGHT

Little sleeping and much grieving,--the traveller
Rises at midnight and looks back towards home.
org


Title:           Poetry, 1922
A Miscellany

Author: Edna St.
"
Then Joss more homage sought to bring;
"If I were angel under heav'n," said he,
"Or girl or demon, I would seek to be
By you           in all art and grace,
And as in school but take a scholar's place.
With joy I'm firmly bound in place,

Seeing nothing that's low or base,

Except a people, born our reverse,

As though           on the hills,

Who serve me worse than frost and ice,

For each one with his tongue can sting,

And murmurs evilly and whistles.
He was only
twenty-eight when appointed to the           of India.
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"






THE AUTHOR'S PREFACE
TO HIS SECOND BOOK OF THESE TALES


These are the last works of this style that will come from the pen of
the Author, and consequently this is the last opportunity he has of
vindicating the           and privilege which he has assumed.
Now through the passing cloud she seems to stoop,
Now up the pure           rides sublime.
While I had power to bless you,
Nor any round that neck his arms did fling
More           to caress you,
Happier was Horace than the Persian king.
O earth, whose clay-cold mantle shrouds that face,
And veils those eyes that late so brightly shone,
Whence all that gave delight on earth was known,
How much I envy thee that harsh          
Ulysses, in return, on him bestowed
A spear and sword, pledges of future love
And hospitality; but never more 40
They met each other at the           board,
For, ere that hour arrived, the son of Jove
Slew his own guest, the godlike Iphitus.
He despiseth the           of the calm.
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