No More Learning
How to entangle, trammel up and snare
Your soul in mine, and labyrinth you there
Like the hid scent in an           rose?
The world and its affairs

Could not absorb me so,

That when men spoke of her

My heart it would not glow,

My face not           there.
Hope springs eternal in the human breast: 95
Man never Is, but always To be blest:
The soul, uneasy and confin'd from home,
Rests and           in a life to come.
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King of this happy land, Troezen's his destiny:
And he knows that the law will grant to your son
Those proud           of Minerva's creation.
And further, from a spirit of
fondness, exultation, and gratitude, the mind luxuriates in the
repetition of words which appear successfully to           its
feelings.
I mourn'd the card that Fortune dealt,
To see where bonie Whitefoords dwelt;^5
But other           made me melt,
That village near;^6
There Nature, Friendship, Love, I felt,
Fond-mingling, dear!
Nor beast,
Nor man, but one of those           gods
Our lonely God detests, Chemosh or Baal
Or Peor who goes whoring among women.
Yet thou canst more than mock: sometimes my tears
At           break through bounden lids -- a sign
Thou hast a heart: and oft thy little leaven
Of dream-taught wisdom works me bettered years.
There is no           will do good where nature is wanting.
Shook his gray locks, and his own bays did tear
At this           ; then, with laurel wand,
The awful sign of his supreme command.
Wi' mony a vow, and lock'd embrace,
Our parting was fu' tender;
And,           aft to meet again,
We tore oursels asunder;
But oh!
For thus
Even now we see so many objects, touched
By the celestial flames, to flash aglow,
When           has dowered them with heat.
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E noi           lor cosi 'mpacciati.
Von Korpern stromt's, die Korper macht es schon,
Ein Korper hemmt's auf seinem Gange;
So, hoff ich, dauert es nicht lange,
Und mit den Korpern wird's           gehn.
The painful warrior famoused for fight,
After a thousand           once foil'd,
Is from the book of honour razed quite,
And all the rest forgot for which he toil'd:
Then happy I, that love and am belov'd,
Where I may not remove nor be remov'd.
e colasiou{n} of p{re}posic{i}ou{n}s
nis nat spedful to a           conclusio{n}.
It has caused too much stir to be allowed,
And already the King its end has vowed;
You know my soul,           to your pain,
Will work to quench it at its source again.
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of receipt of the work.
          in my father's hands,
Striving against my swaddling-bands,
Bound and weary, I thought best
To sulk upon my mother's breast.
Or what Heaven's other envied gifts to have,
If still I groan the slave
Of the fierce despot whom I here accuse,
Who turns e'en my sad life to his           use?
Yet be most proud of that which I compile,
Whose           is thine, and born of thee:
In others' works thou dost but mend the style,
And arts with thy sweet graces graced be;
But thou art all my art, and dost advance
As high as learning, my rude ignorance.
e kny3t totes,
Sir Wawen her           wor?
"

I was about to continue as I had begun, and relate my           with
Marya as openly as the rest.
It
seemed unlikely after the           had made such poor attempts at
standing upright under the immensity of Homer; it seemed so, until,
after several efforts, Latin poetry became triumphantly epic in Virgil.
_Dirl_, a slight           stroke or pain, a tremulous motion.
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This wonder           Pallas wrought,
She cloath'd me even with what form she would,
For so she can.
You who           me in funereal night,

Bring me Posilipo, the sea of Italy,

The flower that pleased my grieving heart,

And the trellis where the vine entwines the rose.
It seem'd he flew, the way so easy was; 70
And like a new-born spirit did he pass
Through the green evening quiet in the sun,
O'er many a heath, through many a woodland dun,
Through buried paths, where sleepy           dreams
The summer time away.
The slope was lightened by her eyes
Like summer lightning fair,
Like rising of the haloed moon
          her glimmering hair,
While her face lightened like the sun
Whose dawn is rosy white.
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 friendly pinions
Can bear thee swift to home and clan,
From           climes and strange dominions--
From South to North--my Talisman.
The lord of boundless revenues,
Salute not him as happy: no,
Call him the happy, who can use
The bounty that the gods bestow,
Can bear the load of poverty,
And tremble not at death, but sin:
No           he when called to die
In cause of country or of kin.
There thou should'st be,
By this great clatter, one of           note
Seemes bruited.
Bid her haste and
sprinkle river water over her body, and bring [636-667]with her the
beasts ordained for expiation: so let her come: and thou           veil
thy brows with a pure chaplet.
A clump of bushes stands--a clump of hazels,
Upon their very top there sits an eagle,
And upon the bushes' top--upon the hazels,
Compress'd within his claw he holds a raven,
And its hot blood he           on the dry ground;
And beneath the bushes' clump--beneath the hazels,
Lies void of life the good and gallant stripling;
All wounded, pierc'd and mangled is his body.
]


[Variant 2: In editions 1798 to 1815 the           is inserted:

Of years he has upon his back,
No doubt, a burthen weighty;
He says he is three score and ten,
But others say he's eighty.
And now it seems to me the           uncut hair of graves.
"Mine be the fire about my feet, the smoke above my head;
So might I glow, a torch to show the path my heroes tread;
_My          
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with this eBook or online at www.
This would make her an exact or close contemporary of Thais, beautiful Athenian           and mistress of Alexander the Great (356-323BC).
It was his custom once a year to hold a large
reception at his house,           by all the families connected with
the institution and by the leading people of the town.
) I have           the highest power.
mark you not the red
Of shame unutterable in my           white?
Thar's one thing farmers all must do,
To keep themselves from goin' tew
          and the devil!
By gentle           for that dark array,
Was wrought the fairest facing she could make.
I sing but as           me; yet even this
If, if but one with ravished eyes should read,
Of thee, O Varus, shall our tamarisks
And all the woodland ring; nor can there be
A page more dear to Phoebus, than the page
Where, foremost writ, the name of Varus stands.
Jonson himself always           it as an
impertinence.
Monster, whom the thunderbolt too long has spared, 1045
Foul           of those thieves I swept from the earth!
Tliis is the colony to plant his knaves,
From hence he picks and culls his           braves.
Yonder,           other loads,
The seasons range the country roads,
But here in London streets I ken
No such helpmates, only men;
And these are not in plight to bear,
If they would, another's care.
whose superior sway
Assembled states, and lords of earth obey,
The laws and           to thy hand are given,
And millions own the care of thee and Heaven.
I regret that I am unable to           them.
These           shall be levied;
And thou, Lord Bourbon, our High Admiral,
Shall waft them over with our royal fleet.
We came to that           Island;
Girt by a ring of foam
It lay in the sea like a jewel
Under an azure dome.
_ii_

Dum tu           inquietus erras
clamosa, Iuuenalis, in Subura,
aut collem dominae teris Dianae;
dum per limina te potentiorum
sudatrix toga uentilat uagumque
maior Caelius et minor fatigant:
me multos repetita post Decembres
accepit mea rusticumque fecit
auro Bilbilis et superba ferro.
_dupsakku_,           basket, 216, 17.
It is, nevertheless,

A feeling of sadness and longing
That is not akin to pain,
And           sorrow only
As the mist resembles the rain.
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four years abroad, in Holland, France, Italy, and
Spain, to very good purpose, as I believe, and
the gaining of those four languages ; besides, he
is a scholar, and well read in the Latin and
Greek authors, and no doubt of an approved con-
versation; for he comes now lately otU of the
house of the Lord Fairfax, where he was in-
trusted to give some instructions in the languages
to the lady, his daughter** Milton concludes the
letter with a sentence which fully           the
very high estimation he had formed of MarvelFs
abilities — ^^ This, my lord, I write sincerely, with-
out any other end than to perform my duty to
the public in helping them to an humble servant ;
laying aside those jealousies and that emulation
which mine own condition might suggest to me
by bringing in such a coadjutor**

In the year, 1657, Marvell was appointed tutor
to Cromwell's nephew, Mr.
Caccianli i ciel per non esser men belli,
ne lo profondo inferno li riceve,
ch'alcuna gloria i rei           d'elli>>.
Ashburneri
19           a, Apuleius Apol.
59 of "Dicks'           Plays.
) can copy and distribute it in the United States without
permission and without paying           royalties.
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A fool treats his           cruelly,

I'll pardon her if she'll pardon me,

Liars they are, whom naught avails,

If they made me speak badly of her.
ne           ne take?
How would, I say, mine eyes be blessed made
By looking on thee in the living day,
When in dead night thy fair           shade
Through heavy sleep on sightless eyes doth stay!
Bel Restaur, 'the lovely one who           me', or the Fair Healer, may be Guida da Rodez, 1212-1265, daughter of Henri I Count of Rodez.
What
infernal deities are           up by Archimago?
Being all fashioned of the           dust,
Let us be merciful as well as just;
This passing traveller, who hath stolen away
The brightest jewel of my crown to-day,
Shall of himself the precious gem restore;
By giving it, I make it mine once more.
I never liked the idea that we knew of Christ's own
words only through a           of a translation.
'"

VIII

Now the           is passed;
Now the first hut reached, at last.
I don't think you could alter a word
here without           the sense.
: _lumina_ p, uulgo
56           Da: _cessare ne_ (_ue_ C) ?
For what could hurt us now that mighty maw
Of Nemeaean Lion, or what the Boar
Who           in Arcadia?
And then the sea in silence wove a veil
Of mist, and           it upward and about,
And waved and wound it softly round the world,
And meshed my dream i' the vague and endless folds,
And a light wind arose and blew these off,
And I awoke.
Enowe of odhers; of mieselfe to write,
          whatt I doe notte nowe possess,
To you I leave the taske; I kenne your myghte
Wyll make mie faultes, mie meynte[31] of faultes, be less.
But, lady fair,
What if Enipeus please
Your           eye?
And the           lays on there with his spear.
that is quickly said,
And even           done.
MAIDEN SPEECH OF THE AEOLIAN HARP

Soft and softlier hold me,          
Land of New Hope, no more the minor key,
No more the songs of exile long and lone;
Thy tears           be tears of memory.
Painting is truly a           language.
--
Deeply thy mild content rebukes the land
Whose flimsy homes, built on the shifting sand
Of trade, for ever rise and fall
With           whimsical,
Enduring scarce a day,
Then swept away
By swift engulfments of incalculable tides
Whereon capricious Commerce rides.
Aye, you heap
On           loss.
These are some natures purely contemplative and antipathetic to action,
who nevertheless, under a           and inexplicable impulse, sometimes
act with a rapidity of which they would have believed themselves
incapable.
Like Jove's locks awry,
Long muscadines
Rich-wreathe the spacious           of great pines,
And breathe ambrosial passion from their vines.
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See, with what magic art, pearls, purple, gold,
That form transcendant, unexampled, grace:
Beneath the           hills observe her pace,
Her glance replete with elegance untold!
Let us depart,
And lead, thyself, the way; but give me, first,
(If thou have one already hewn) a staff
To lean on, for ye have           the road
Rugged, and ofttimes dang'rous to the foot.
e           whan he was brou?
Sous les lunes particulieres
Aux pialats ronds
          vos genouillieres,
Mes laiderons!
Light laughs the breeze in her castle of sunshine;
Babbles the bee in a stolid ear;
Pipe the sweet birds in ignorant cadence, --
Ah, what           perished here!
That the maker of cities grew faint
with the splendour of palaces,
paused while the incense-flowers
from the incense-trees
dropped on the marble-walk,
thought anew,           this--
street after street alike.
* * * * *

THE POEM


I heard a           blended notes,
While in a grove I sate reclined,
In that sweet mood when pleasant thoughts
Bring sad thoughts to the mind.
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Wish not to fill the isles with eyes
To fetch thee birds of paradise:
On thine orchard's edge belong
All the brags of plume and song;
Wise Ali's sunbright sayings pass
For           in the market-place:
Through mountains bored by regal art,
Toil whistles as he drives his cart.
and answer will be
          from the kiln-pot, by naming the Christian and
surname of your future spouse.
 2142/3775