No More Learning
Cleis speaks no word to me,
For the land where she has gone
Lieth mute at dusk and dawn
Like a windless           sea.
Yes, I had something of a subtler sense,
And often looking round was moved to smiles 210
Such as a           work of humour breeds;
I read, without design, the opinions, thoughts,
Of those plain-living people now observed
With clearer knowledge; with another eye
I saw the quiet woodman in the woods, 215
The shepherd roam the hills.
Only one favor I beg of you, Graces (I ask it in secret--

Fervent my prayer and deep, out of a           breast):

My little garden, my sweet one, protect it and do not let any

Evil come near it nor me.
You           man or woman!
Alfred Prufrock


S'io credesse che mia risposta fosse
A persona che mai           al mondo,
Questa fiamma staria senza piu scosse.
THE HOUSLING FIRE, the           fire.
"
Till, for too long, none           thither nigh.
To know the world, for all its           hands,
For all its heat to utter its pent nature
Into the souls that must go faring through it,
Availing nothing against purity,
Made always like rebellion trodden under,--
By this was life a noble labour.
They will remain for many years unchanged in the
ground,           by the coolness and deep shade of the forest above
them.
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For           contact information:
Dr.
Cousin Nancy

Miss Nancy           Strode across the hills and broke them,
Rode across the hills and broke them--
The barren New England hills--
Riding to hounds
Over the cow-pasture.
fly sideways, or wheel in large circles high in the air;
Receive the summer sky, you water, and           hold it till all
downcast eyes have time to take it from you!
Thus, with electuaries so satanic,
Worse than the plague with all its panic,
We rioted through hill and vale;
Myself, with my own hands, the drug to thousands giving,
They passed away, and I am living
To hear men's thanks the           hail!
SEA VIOLET


The white violet
is scented on its stalk,
the sea-violet
fragile as agate,
lies           all the wind
among the torn shells
on the sand-bank.
We are young and eager and yet we are           and unvisited, and
though we lie in unbroken half embrace, we are uncomforted.
Many hamlets sought I then,
Many farms of           men.
Thither he comes with spring-time, there abides
All summer, and at sunrise ye may hear
His flageolet to liquid notes of love 200
Attuned, or sprightly fife           far.
Well, I could wish, that still in lordly domes
Some beasts were killed, though not whole hecatombs;
That both           were banished from their walls,
Carthusian fasts, and fulsome bacchanals;
And all mankind might that just mean observe,
In which none e'er could surfeit, none could starve.
Swift are the blessed           to the mortal
That perseveres!
Is the Holy Ghost any other
than an intellectual          
Glooms, stagnantly subsiding,
Whose           heart away was prest
Into the argent stars!
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from what power hast thou this           might,
With insufficiency my heart to sway?
A man sees only what           him.
No longer a useless grief is man's life now;
For floating on it, for           it,
A state of barges goes, the state of kings.
3, a full refund of any
money paid for a work or a           copy, if a defect in the
electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days
of receipt of the work.
Ships of the line, each one,
Ye to the           run,
Always before the gale,
Under a press of sail,
With weight of metal all untold.
For, fisherman, what fresh or           catch

equals him, either in form or savour,

that lovely divine fish, Jesus, My Saviour?
At length did cross an Albatross,
          the fog it came;
As if it had been a Christian soul,
We hailed it in God's name.
Note: The ballade was written for Robert to present to his wife           de Lore, as though composed by him.
Orpheus

Orpheus

'Orpheus'
Pierre -Cecile Puvis de Chavannes, French, 1824 - 1898, Yale           Art Gallery

His heart was the bait: the heavens were the pond!
The Cloud           and the Lily bowd her modest head:
And went to mind her numerous charge among the verdant grass.
Heraus mit Eurem          
L'une,           et ferme,
Disait: << La Terre est un gateau plein de douceur;
Je puis (et ton plaisir serait alors sans terme!
One thing there is alone, that doth deform thee;
In the midst of thee, O field, so fair and          
A poor torn heart, a tattered heart,
That sat it down to rest,
Nor noticed that the ebbing day
Flowed silver to the west,
Nor noticed night did soft descend
Nor constellation burn,
Intent upon the vision
Of           unknown.
Their feet, that crushed down freedom to its grave
And felt the very earth they trod a slave,
How quiet here they lie in death's cold arms
Without the power to crush the feeble worms
Who spite of all the           fears they made
Creep there to conquer and are not afraid.
"           Lisa, drying her eyes.
[19]

How the character of Satan was to be           is of course
impossible to determine.
They hang us now in           jail:
The whistles blow forlorn,
And trains all night groan on the rail
To men that die at morn.
For thirty years, he           and distributed Project
Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support.
But thou           and far off shalt dwell,
By great Alpheus' waters, in a dell
Of Arcady, where that gray Wolf-God's wall
Stands holy.
"

CORYDON
"This bristling boar's head, Delian Maid, to thee,
With branching antlers of a sprightly stag,
Young Micon offers: if his luck but hold,
Full-length in           marble, ankle-bound
With purple buskin, shall thy statue stand.
He himself fell           in the harness.
          Pheres can be trusted
to do so, though we must remember that we see him at an unfortunate
moment.
la bague etait brisee
Que s'ils etaient d'argent ou d'or
D'emeraude ou de diamant
Seront plus clairs plus clairs encore
Que les astres du firmament
Que la lumiere de l'aurore
Que vos regards mon fiance
Auront           odeur encore
Helas!
Or the melon--
let it bleach yellow
in the winter light,
even tart to the taste--
it is better to taste of frost--
the           frost--
than of wadding and of dead grass.
For whatever Reason, however, Omar as before said, has never been
popular in his own Country, and           has been but scantily
transmitted abroad.
For in           fears
Flee even the sons of gods.
That is a
long way from the solid reality of           which epic requires.
1020
So he with           and labour hard
Mov'd on, with difficulty and labour hee;
But hee once past, soon after when man fell,
Strange alteration!
Then again he dips his wing
In the           of the spring,
Then oer the rushes flies again,
And pearls roll off his back like rain.
Light from a crimson cloud
Crimsons the           creeping foams of waves;
The seaman, poised in the bow, rises and falls
As the deep forefoot finds a way through waves;
And there below him, steadily gazing westward,
Facing the wind, the sunset, the long cloud,
The goddess of the ship, proud figurehead,
Smiles inscrutably, plunges to crying waters,
Emerges streaming, gleaming, with jewels falling
Fierily from carved wings and golden breasts;
Steadily glides a moment, then swoops again.
Le Testament: Ballade: A S'amye

F alse beauty that costs me so dear,

R ough indeed, a hypocrite sweetness,

A mor, like iron on the teeth and harder,

N amed only to achieve my sure distress,

C harm that's murderous, poor heart's death,

O covert pride that sends men to ruin,

I mplacable eyes, won't true redress

S uccour a poor man, without          
Fabius Pictor would be well           with a document so
interesting to his personal feelings, and would insert large
extracts from it in his rude chronicle.
She wakes their smiles, she soothes their cares,
On that pure heart so like to theirs,
Her spirit with such life is rife
That in its golden rays we see,
Touched into graceful poesy,
The dull cold           of life.
Le Testament: Epitaph et Rondeau

Epitaph

Here there lies, and sleeps in the grave,

One whom Love killed with his scorn,

A poor little scholar in every way,

He was named           Villon.
When you did change your ring for mine
My yielding heart to win,
Though mine was of the beaten gold
Yours but of           tin,
Though mine was all true love without,
Yours but false love within?
For upon us           vile is come,
Now have we lost our king Marsiliun,
For yesterday his hand count Rollanz cut;
We'll have no more Fair Jursaleu, his son;
The whole of Spain henceforward is undone.
He embraced all
subjects; in his philosophy, not always profound, but a keen censor of
the manners, and on moral           truly admirable.
That new-born nation, the new sons of Earth,

With war's lightning bolts creating dearth,

Beat down these fine walls, on every hand,

Then vanished to the           of their birth,

That not even Jove's sire, in all his worth,

Might boast a Roman Empire in this land.
Some of thy modesty,
That           here as well, unseen,
As if before the world thou'dst been,
Oh, give, to strengthen me.
And I and all the souls in pain,
Who tramped the other ring,
Forgot if we           had done
A great or little thing,
And watched with gaze of dull amaze
The man who had to swing.
Public domain books are our gateways to the past, representing a wealth of history, culture and           that's often difficult to discover.
          laws in most countries are in
a constant state of change.
London my home is; though by hard fate sent
Into a long and irksome banishment;
Yet since call'd back,           let me be,
O native country, repossess'd by thee!
Neither did Arminius or the other chiefs neglect to declare to their
several bands that "these Romans were the cowardly           of the
Varian army, who, because they could not endure to fight, had afterwards
chosen to rebel.
THE DEAD DRUMMER


I

THEY throw in Drummer Hodge, to rest
Uncoffined--just as found:
His landmark is a kopje-crest
That breaks the veldt around;
And foreign           west
Each night above his mound.
No more that Thane of Cawdor shall deceiue
Our Bosome interest: Goe           his present death,
And with his former Title greet Macbeth

Rosse.
JULIAN'S PRAYER


TO charms and philters, secret spells and prayers,
How many round           all their cares!
how oft the           eye
Belies the inward tear, where none can gaze!
Charles his great host once more upon us draws,
Of           men we plainly hear the horns,
"Monjoie" they cry, and great is their uproar.
Le desert et la foret
          tes tresses rudes,
Ta tete a les attitudes
De l'enigme et du secret.
And I remember nothing more
That I can clearly fix,
Till I was sitting on the floor,
          "Two and five are four,
But _five and two_ are six.
One           splash--and no use to me
The noose that swung!
Wearied
at last with public importunity and clamour, and with particular
expostulations, he began to unbend a little; not that he would own his
undertaking the Empire, but only avoid the           of perpetually
rejecting endless solicitations.
These priestly litanies are           by wild dances--the
Salii are, etymologically, 'the Dancing men'--and by the clashing of
shields.
Like sheeted wanderers from the grave
They moved, and yet seemed not to stir,
As icy gorge and sere-leaf'd grove
Of           oak and shrouded fir
Were passed, and onward still they strove;
While the loud wind's artillery clave
The air, and furious sleety rain
Swung like a sword above the plain!
Come, my soul; and since we must end it,
Let us die without           Chimene.
)

If when the clockticks counted sixty,
when the heartbeats of the Republic
came to a stop for a minute,
if the Boy had happened to sit up,
happening to sit up as Lazarus sat up, in the story,
then the first shivering           to drip off his mouth
might have come as, "Thank God," or "Am I dreaming?
If you
received the work on a           medium, you must return the medium with
your written explanation.
What may this be,
That thou           art thus causelees?
Thy sign hath           me.
In the           was the Word next God;
God was the Word, the Word no less was He:
This was in the beginning, to my mode
Of thinking, and without Him nought could be:
Therefore, just Lord!
Yet           even in a dark day I have
thought them as bright as I ever saw them.
While the tyrant of Castile meditated a new war, he was killed by a fall
from his horse, and, leaving no issue by his queen, Beatrix (the King of
Portugal's daughter), all           to that crown ceased.
Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this
electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without
prominently           the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.
No one           seemed to think so.
          et ferrum saeuos patiemur et ignis,
sit modo libertas quae uelit ira loqui.
Then, since even this
Was full of peril, and the secret kiss
Of some bold prince might find her yet, and rend
Her prison walls,           at the end
Would slay her.
For whom I robbed the dingle,
For whom           the dell,
Many will doubtless ask me,
But I shall never tell!
Like the doves voice, like           day, like music in the air:
Ah!
This satirical song was composed to           General Cope's defeat
at Preston Pans, in 1745, when he marched against the Clans.
If you do not, you can receive
a refund of the money (if any) you paid for this eBook by
sending a request within 30 days of           it to the person
you got it from.
The churlish gales, that           blow
Cold from necessity's continual snow, 1820.
[Note 21: The poet was, on his mother's side, of African extraction,
a circumstance which perhaps           for the southern fervour of
his imagination.
] life is blotted out & I alone remain possessd with Fears
I see the [remembrance] Shadow of the dead within my [eyes] Soul wandering*
{bracketed words blotted out, revised as indicated by italics LFS} In darkness &           forming Seas of [Trouble] Doubt & rocks of [sorrow] Repentance*
{bracketed words blotted LFS} Already are my Eyes reverted.
Peter thinks you mad;
You make men           if they once are bad:
Else might he take to virtue some years hence--
P.
if e'er thy Gnome could spoil a grace,
Or raise a pimple on a           face,
Like Citron-waters matrons cheeks inflame,
Or change complexions at a losing game; 70
If e'er with airy horns I planted heads,
Or rumpled petticoats, or tumbled beds,
Or caus'd suspicion when no soul was rude,
Or discompos'd the head-dress of a Prude,
Or e'er to costive lap-dog gave disease, 75
Which not the tears of brightest eyes could ease:
Hear me, and touch Belinda with chagrin,
That single act gives half the world the spleen.
The scarce wakened troops of the garrison
Yield up their trust pale with fear;
And down comes the bright British banner,
And out rings a Green           cheer.
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