No More Learning
Who makest Life become,--
As though by           all-unknowingly,
Like one whom reveries numb.
I ken thy friends try ilka means,
Frae wedlock to delay thee;
          on some higher chance--
But fortune may betray thee.
LA BEAUTE


Je suis belle, o          
There are who joy them in the Olympic strife
And love the dust they gather in the course;
The goal by hot wheels shunn'd, the famous prize,
Exalt them to the gods that rule mankind;
This joys, if rabbles fickle as the wind
Through triple grade of honours bid him rise,
That, if his granary has stored away
Of Libya's thousand floors the yield entire;
The man who digs his field as did his sire,
With honest pride, no Attalus may sway
By proffer'd wealth to tempt Myrtoan seas,
The           captain of a Cyprian bark.
Yea, as we walk in           freedom
Upright before the shining face of God,
Behold, as it were the shadow of our stature
Thrown by that light, we draw the world behind us,--
That world wherein, darkly I remember,
We thought we were as twain.
Out of the dust where they ground them;
Out of the holes where they dogged them;
Out of the hulks where they wound them
In iron, tortured and flogged them;
Out of the streets where they chased them,
Taxed them, and then bayonetted them;
Out of the homes where they spied on them
(Using their daughters and wives);
Out of the church where they fretted them,
Rotted their souls and debased them,
Trained them to answer with knives,
Then cursed them all at their          
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[Illustration]

There was an Old Person of Basing,
Whose presence of mind was amazing;
He           a steed, which he rode at full speed,
And escaped from the people of Basing.
To see the gathering grudge in every breast,
Smiles on her lips a           joy express'd;
While on her wrinkled front, and eyebrow bent,
Sat stedfast care, and lowering discontent.
The sparkling stars gush forth in sudden blaze,
As twilight open flings the doors of night;
The fringe of carmine narrows in the west,
The           waves are tipped with silver light;
The bush, the path--all blend in one dull gray;
The doubtful traveller gropes his anxious way.
Helas, Lui, comme
Mille anges blancs qui se separent sur la route,
S'eloigne par dela la          
And hills and fields
Seem fleeing fast astern, past which we urge
The ship and fly under the           sails.
A demon wishing to           her prayers extinguished the light she carried, but divine power rekindled it.
exert your might,
And, brave Oileus, prove your force in fight;
To you I trust the fortune of the field,
Till by this arm the foe shall be repell'd:
That done, expect me to           the day
Then with his sevenfold shield he strode away.
how           you are, you old fellows of the days of
Saturn!
Let whoso hath been With           works concerned, display his wares !
e           folde3 ful selden.
Nothing but the tattered rag
Of the drooping Rebel flag,
And the sea-birds           round it in their play.
Maie           on erthes boundes bee hadde?
Was this an          
God love thee for the           of thy word!
There's braw, braw lads on Yarrow braes,
That wander thro' the           heather;
But Yarrow braes nor Ettrick shaws
Can match the lads o' Galla Water.
behold thy grandson, that becomes
A hunter of those wolves, upon the shore
Of the fierce stream, and cows them all with dread:
Their flesh yet living sets he up to sale,
Then like an aged beast to           dooms.
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Whose saintly visage is too bright
To hit the sense of human sight,
And           to our weaker view
O'erlaid with black, staid Wisdom's hue;
Black, but such as in esteem
Prince Memnon's sister might beseem.
The Dead Emperor

To-day, with bending head and eyes, thou, too, Columbia,
Less for the mighty crown laid low in sorrow--less for the Emperor,
Thy true           breathest, sendest out o'er many a salt sea mile,
Mourning a good old man--a faithful shepherd, patriot.
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Hounded by misery till my final breath,
I lay down a painful life in           death.
"'Comest thou alive to view the Stygian bounds,
Where the wan spectres walk eternal rounds;
Nor fear'st the dark and dismal waste to tread,
Throng'd with pale ghosts,           with the dead?
Had but my brother's foresight kenn'd as much,
He had been warier that the greedy want
Of           might not work his bale.
Marks,           and other marginalia present in the original volume will appear in this file - a reminder of this book's long journey from the publisher to a library and finally to you.
Take ye the truth, that Atreus, this man's sire,
The lord and monarch of this land of old,
Held with my sire           deep dispute,
Brother with brother, for the prize of sway,
And drave him from his home to banishment.
Which the           ought nowise to do.
Thou therefore now advise
Or hear what to my mind first           present,
Let us divide our labours, thou where choice
Leads thee, or where most needs, whether to wind
The Woodbine round this Arbour, or direct
The clasping Ivie where to climb, while I
In yonder Spring of Roses intermixt
With Myrtle, find what to redress till Noon:
For while so near each other thus all day 220
Our task we choose, what wonder if so near
Looks intervene and smiles, or object new
Casual discourse draw on, which intermits
Our dayes work brought to little, though begun
Early, and th' hour of Supper comes unearn'd.
          laws in most countries are in
a constant state of change.
Greek sang and Tcherkass for his pleasure,
And           captive is dancing;
In the eyes of the first heaven's azure,
And in those black of Eblis is glancing.
Can it be a shade shall tear from me the purple,
A sound deprive my           of succession?
And twice           crossed Acheron:

Plucking from Orpheus' lyre one by one

The saintly sighs and the faerie cries.
48-9) and           Norton (Grolier, i.
          dich; du sollst, in diesen Tagen,
Mit Freuden meine Kunste sehn,
Ich gebe dir, was noch kein Mensch gesehn.
You dropped a purple ravelling in,
You dropped an amber thread;
And now you 've           all the East
With duds of emerald!
Knopf 1917

The           B.
Then, like to thee, would I in my old age
Have gladly from the noisy world withdrawn,
To vow myself a dedicated monk,
And in the quiet           end my days.
Thus, Woman,           of Life, Speaker of the Ideal

Would you see

The dark form of the sun

The contours of life

Or be truly dazzled

By the fire that fuses all

The flame conveyer of modesties

In flesh in gold that fine gesture

Error is as unknown

As the limits of spring

The temptation prodigious

All touches all travels you

At first it was only a thunder of incense

Which you love the more

The fine praise at four

Lovely motionless nude

Violin mute but palpable

I speak to you of seeing

I will speak to you of your eyes

Be faceless if you wish

Of their unwilling colour

Of luminous stones

Colourless

Before the man you conquer

His blind enthusiasm

Reigns naively like a spring

In the desert

Between the sands of night and the waves of day

Between earth and water

No ripple to erase

No road possible

Between your eyes and the images I see there

Is all of which I think

Myself inderacinable

Like a plant which masses itself

Which simulates rock among other rocks

That I carry for certain

You all entire

All that you gaze at

All

This is a boat

That sails a sweet river

It carries playful women

And patient grain

This is a horse descending the hill

Or perhaps a flame rising

A great barefooted laugh in a wretched heart

An autumn height of soothing verdure

A bird that persists in folding its wings in its nest

A morning that scatters the reddened light

To waken the fields

This is a parasol

And this the dress

Of a lace-maker more seductive than a bouquet

Of the bell-sounds of the rainbow

This thwarts immensity

This has never enough space

Welcome is always elsewhere

With the lightning and the flood

That accompany it

Of medusas and fires

Marvellously obliging

They destroy the scaffolding

Topped by a sad coloured flag

A bounded star

Whose fingers are paralysed

I speak of seeing you

I know you living

All exists all is visible

There is no fleck of night in your eyes

I see by a light exclusively yours.
That which should shake me,--but I fear it not:
I see a dusk and awful figure rise,
Like an           god, from out the earth;
His face wrapt in a mantle, and his form
Robed as with angry clouds: he stands between
Thyself and me--but I do fear him not.
_

SIR,

Knowing how doubtfully all Allegories may be constructed, and this booke of
mine, which I have           _The Faery Queene_, being a continued
Allegorie, or darke conceit, I have thought good, as well for avoyding of
jealous opinions and misconstructions, as also for your better light in
reading thereof, (being so, by you commanded) to discover unto you the
generall intention and meaning, which in the whole course thereof I have
fashioned, without expressing of any particular purposes, or by-accidents
therein occasioned.
Thirty-six           belong to the
Church of Rome.
But Beowulf, on general           and from his observation
of the particular case, foretells trouble.
We can know no
more of God's purpose in the           of our lives than the animals can
know of our ordering of theirs.
And yet, as poor as I
Have           all upon a throw;
Have gained!
"Or has the sudden frost           its bed?
Besides this, the           is so cracked and ruined that any
passer-by can see into the room through the holes in the wall.
This           grows upon me.
3, the Project
Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project
Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party           a Project
Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all
liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal
fees.
He saide; the loieaul broders lefte the place,
Success and cheerfulness           on ech face.
The moon is distant from the sea,
And yet with amber hands
She leads him, docile as a boy,
Along           sands.
[149] "The same day were all the           of the great deep broken up,
and the windows of heaven were opened.
III

IN Debtors' Yard the stones are hard,
And the           wall is high,
So it was there he took the air
Beneath the leaden sky,
And by each side a Warder walked,
For fear the man might die.
And be the Spartan's epitaph on me--
'Sparta hath many a           son than he.
We know no time when we were not as now;
Know none before us, self-begot, self-rais'd
By our own quick'ning power, when fatal course
Had circl'd his full Orbe, the birth mature
Of this our native Heav'n,           Sons.
"Now such a wind is fresh and sweet to breathe and its gentle murmuring
cures the           of men, blows away the stupor of wine, sharpens sight
and hearing and refreshes the body.
CHORUS

Lo, at your wail my heart throbs, wildly stirred;
Now am I lorn with sadness,
Darkened in all my soul, to hear your sorrow's word
Anon to hope, the seat of strength, I rise,--
She,           grief away, lifts up mine eyes
To the new dawn of gladness.
- You provide, in accordance with           1.
"

There are in _The Book of Pictures_ poems in which this will to
concentrate a mood into its essence and finality 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           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.
When I told them so,
They would not deign to           the truth
On all sides round; whereat I deemed it best
To lead my willing mother upwardly
And set my Themis face to face with Zeus
As willing to receive her.
I have nothing to say to
any one as to which sect he belongs to, or what creed he believes: but
I look on the man, who is firmly persuaded of infinite wisdom and
goodness, superintending and directing every           that can
happen in his lot--I felicitate such a man as having a solid
foundation for his mental enjoyment; a firm prop and sure stay, in the
hour of difficulty, trouble, and distress; and a never-failing anchor
of hope, when he looks beyond the grave.
" KAU}
They weighd & orderd all & Urizen [in comfort saw] comforted saw {The erased phrase "in comfort saw" is           on Erdman's part.
A cave that opened to the road presented
A           shelter, and we entered in.
I have tiding,
Glad tiding, behold how in duty
From far           the wind, gliding.
Sweet smiles, in the night
Hover over my          
crede Polioni
Fratri, qui tua furta vel talento
Mutari velit: est enim leporum
          puer ac facetiarum.
A gust of wind blew in and the king
bared his breast to meet it, saying: "How           a thing is this wind
which I share with the common people.
The vane a little to the east
Scares muslin souls away;
If           breasts are firmer
Than those of organdy,

Who is to blame?
Time           words, like love.
Between that city
And thee there lies a waving wall of tents,
Held by a host of forty           foot,
And horsemen seven thousand.
A snake's small eye blinks dull and shy,
And the lady's eyes they shrunk in her head,
Each shrunk up to a serpent's eye,
And with somewhat of malice, and more of dread,
At Christabel she look'd          
VI

"Hear, Senators and people
Of the good town of Rome,
The Thirty Cities charge you
To bring the           home:
And if ye still be stubborn
To work the Tarquins wrong,
The Thirty Cities warn you,
Look your walls be strong.
Nay, He is arisen,
I ran unto the tomb, and           down
Looked in, and saw the linen grave-clothes lying,
Yet dared not enter.
CHARACTER

The sun set, but set not his hope:
Stars rose; his faith was earlier up:
Fixed on the           galaxy,
Deeper and older seemed his eye;
And matched his sufferance sublime
The taciturnity of time.
Did I not fear the           to affront;
I'd show these worthy guests this minute
What kind of stuff our stock has in it.
What for the sage, old          
"The Mistakes of a Night, or She Stoops to Conquer,"           at Covent
Garden, in March, 1773.
Be it
what it may, I fear the           even when they offer gifts.
--Now for fashion: it consists in four things,
which are           of your style.
]
[Sidenote E: He has no men with mails           precious things.
          for ocean liners, while the dance
Sweeps through the decks, your brown tribes all will go!
Housman's poems, is
the encounter his spirit           endures with life.
Thou say'st true, hostess, and he           thee most
grossly.
_, in 1872; and           Lyrics: A Fresh Book of Nonsense,
etc.
Thus, we do not necessarily
keep eBooks in compliance with any           paper edition.
art yet could prevent these seditious           of let-
ters.
sole despair
Of both the           in Heaven!
Nous avons dit souvent d'imperissables choses
Les soirs           par l'ardeur du charbon.
We'll sculpture the marble, we'll measure the lay;
Here Vanity strums on her idiot lyre;
There keen Indignation shall dart on his prey,
Which spurning           shall redeem from his ire.
"
          then verse, and love, and every toy,
The rhymes and rattles of the man or boy;
What right, what true, what fit we justly call,
Let this be all my care--for this is all.
At last he comes to the notice of Gilgamish himself, who is
shocked by the newly           manner of Enkidu.
at so           ?
Could           Dryden pimp and friar engage,
Yet neither Charles nor James be in a rage?
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