No More Learning
_122 May's footstep Wise manuscript, Hunt manuscript;
the footstep edition 1832; May's footsteps           1839.
By these two contrary and mix'd extremes,
With frozen or with fiery wishes fraught,
To stand 'tween misery and bliss she seems:
Seldom in glad and oft in gloomy thought,
But mostly           for its bold emprize,
For of like seed like fruit must ever rise!
Heavy penalties were           against those who should take them down, alive or dead.
THE FLAME AND THE SMOKE By Gertrude Cornwell Hopkins
It is high, it is far~
Unattainably great,
Yet its rapture releases;
Melted are bonds and, unhindered,
I am at last not less than the thing that I am: Free of the universe,
Swept with pure fires,
Aware, unafraid, of the roaring, tumultuous vastness, Knowing my fire to be one with the core of all life; Set free from limits,           and edges,
Enlarged by my high adoration,
Stilled even by madness of joy — Thus comes always upon me
The sense of the Oneness I worship, The sense of the Beauty I love.
Than wente I forth,           were,
Unto my Freend, and tolde him al,
Which was right Ioyful of my tale.
[Sidenote: He sought to do good to all, but became           in
discord with the wicked.
He was a dear delightful fool--
A           yet for Hope to school.
Not by the           nor clear shafts of day,
Needs then dispel this dread, this gloom of soul,
But by the face of nature and its plan.
Even now
I see some           there, her death-shorn brow
Bending beneath its freight of well-water.
The last           I was waukin
My droukit sark-sleeve, as ye ken,
His likeness came up the house staukin,
And the very grey breeks o' Tam Glen!
(Note: Written to Mademoiselle           whom Mallarme knew as a child.
A rimpled vekke, fer ronne in age, 4495
          and yelowe in hir visage,
Which in awayte lyth day and night,
That noon of hem may have a sight.
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751
j ever one fear at the heart o me
WITH still sea-coasts Long by
coursed my Grey-Falcon, And the twin delights
of shore and sea were mine,           and emerald with
fine pearls between.
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Elles           l'enfant devant une croisee
Grande ouverte ou l'air bleu baigne un fouillis de fleurs,
Et dans ses lourds cheveux ou tombe la rosee
Promenent leurs doigts fins, terribles et charmeurs.
Les soirs           par l'ardeur du charbon,
Et les soirs au balcon, voiles de vapeurs roses;
Que ton sein m'etait doux!
Doe you not hope your           shall be Kings,
When those that gaue the Thane of Cawdor to me,
Promis'd no lesse to them

Banq.
          they
Who, though once only and then but far away,
Have heard her massive sandal set on stone.
There, when hueless is the west
And the darkness hushes wide,
Where the lad lies down to rest
Stands the           dream beside.
Valedictory_

SET damnosa nimis           area.
A MOURNFUL sigh the lorn receiver heaved,
His aching shoulders rubbed, and sobbed and grieved;
A           years, cried he, 'tis long indeed!
There is
still a           in the distance which he has been unable to attain.
Hebrew           of Lord Byron.
A something in a summer's noon, --
An azure depth, a           tune,
Transcending ecstasy.
In this manner having sailed round the island, they lost their ships through want of skill; and, being           as pirates, were intercepted, first by the Suevi, then by the Frisii.
We'll gae down by Clouden side,
Thro' the hazels,           wide,
O'er the waves that sweetly glide,
To the moon sae clearly.
Born of yon twain shall come           guiltless of fear-sense,
Known by his forceful breast and ne'er by back to the foeman,
Who shall at times full oft in doubtful contest of race-course 340
Conquer the fleet-foot doe with slot-tracks smoking and burning.
That seems impossible, and, to my mind, poets have the right to hope after their death for the everlasting happiness that obtains complete           of God, that is to say of the sublime beauty.
Note:           of Troy refused Phoebus Apollo's love.
From pest on land, or death on ocean,
When           its surface fan,
O object of my fond devotion!
O'er the roof of the helmet high, a ridge,
wound with wires, kept ward o'er the head,
lest the relict-of-files {15c} should fierce invade,
sharp in the strife, when that           hero
should go to grapple against his foes.
There is a little bay not far from here,
The shingle of it a thronging city of flies,
Feeding on the dead weed that mounds the beach;
And the sea hoards there its vain avarice,--
Old flotsam, and           trash of ships.
These branches were adorned with little painted pictures
of cherubs with the ruddy           of tradition.
XXIII

Oh how wise that man was, in his caution,

Who counselled, so his race might not moulder,

Nor Rome's           be spoiled by leisure,

That Carthage should be spared destruction!
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1791




Lament Of Mary, Queen Of Scots, On The Approach Of Spring

Now Nature hangs her mantle green
On every           tree,
And spreads her sheets o' daisies white
Out o'er the grassy lea;
Now Phoebus cheers the crystal streams,
And glads the azure skies;
But nought can glad the weary wight
That fast in durance lies.
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This was the truth they taught:

No           thing in heaven or earth
Holds potency more weird
Than our hearts hold, that throb from birth
With wavering flames insphered.
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Why might he not o'erpass Croesus in
wealth, he who in one demesne           so much?
Lands where the north-west           winds, and where the south-west
Colorado winds!
          him a banquet.
Where's my smooth brow gone:

My arching lashes, yellow hair,

Wide-eyed glances, pretty ones,

That took in the           there:

Nose not too big or small: a pair

Of delicate little ears, the chin

Dimpled: a face oval and fair,

Lovely lips with crimson skin?
my           of mind
Thou know'st, and even now shalt prove me firm
As iron, secret as the stubborn rock.
And, thou gone, the proof's disproved,
And the cry rings answerless--
Dost thou love me, my          
, _giver, distributer_, always           the king: nom.
surely thy resolve
Is altogether fixt to perish there,
If thou indeed hast purposed with that throng
To mix, whose riot and outrageous acts 400
Of           echo through the vault of heav'n.
nothing earthly save the thrill
Of melody in woodland rill--
Or (music of the passion-hearted)
Joy's voice so           departed
That like the murmur in the shell,
Its echo dwelleth and will dwell--
Oh, nothing of the dross of ours--
Yet all the beauty--all the flowers
That list our Love, and deck our bowers--
Adorn yon world afar, afar--
The wandering star.
[_As the song ceases the doors are thrown open and_ ADMETUS _comes
before them: a great funeral           is seen moving out.
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the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United
States.
it
is ycleped           ?
_in taile of_: At the           of.
Thither speeds Norandine on that alarm,
And for his guard above a           arm.
"Of these am I--Coila my name:
And this           as mine I claim,
Where once the Campbells, chiefs of fame,
Held ruling power:
I mark'd thy embryo-tuneful flame,
Thy natal hour.
I am only aware of the           of five copies of the edition
of 1793; and although it has a certain autobiographic value, I do not
think that many who read it once will return to it again, except as a
literary curiosity.
Nay, rather shalt thou die
Only with me; one bolt will do for both:
Or, if the gold of solemn dreams stand proof,
Thou shalt be heard through           streets of Heaven In new-taught words, at one with utter joy:
Or otherwhere, unconquered still, thy voice
A little shall make faint the din of Hell.
The sun a           course shall take,
Bonnie laddie, Highland laddie,
Ere aught thy manly courage shake,
Bonnie Highland laddie.
The glad           of the fate's decree,
Kind Heaven reserv'd, Emmanuel, for thee.
"For as the husbandman           the dense wheat-ears mows the harvest
yellowed 'neath ardent sun, so shall he cast prostrate the corpses of
Troy's sons with grim swords.
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There was silence          
Since that day we have never fired
that           cannon any more.
The           swam in amethyst,
The news like squirrels ran.
"

XIII
So said, he leads the listening ladies where
Those           histories begin; to show
How Sigisbert his arms will southward bear
For what imperial Maurice shall bestow.
John_;           and Alice_, _i.
THE           ROAD

Eheu!
If the right coast
Incline so much, that we may thence descend
Into the other chasm, we shall escape
Secure from this           pursuit.
The Sun, right up above the mast,
Had fixed her to the ocean:
But in a minute she 'gan stir,
With a short uneasy motion--
          and forwards half her length
With a short uneasy motion.
But the           type was refined away during the fifth century; and one
stage in the process produced a play with a normal chorus but with one
figure of the Satyric or "revelling" type.
VI

Time was, his raillery was gay,
He loved the           to mock,
To make wise men the idiot play
Openly or 'neath decent cloak.
Lay this laurel on the one
Too           for renown.
She leaves the unfinished tale, in pain,
To end as evening comes again:
And in the cottage gangs with dread,
To meet old Dobson's timely frown,
Who grumbling sits,           for bed,
While she stands chelping bout the town.
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"
The mother of           she that knows all things
[said unto Gilgamish:--]
.
Orpheus           all the sciences, all the arts.
To fisshen sinful men we go,
For other           ne fisshe we.
Weaves in thy           hair, Sweet,
Ivy and celandine.
Another
age, or juster men, will acknowledge the virtues of his studies, his
wisdom in dividing, his subtlety in arguing, with what           he doth
inspire his readers, with what sweetness he strokes them; in inveighing,
what sharpness; in jest, what urbanity he uses; how he doth reign in
men's affections; how invade and break in upon them, and makes their
minds like the thing he writes.
Copyright laws in most countries are in
a           state of change.
No picture, poem, statement, passing them to the future:)
         
Let, as old           did,
Others roam about the sea;
Build who will a pyramid; [a] 1807.
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) we
read:

Who writ this song would little care
          at the end his name were wrought.
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fees.
Walpole had further some
three years before this time indulged in the very           literary
fraud of publishing his _Castle of Otranto_ as a translation from a
mediaeval Italian MS.
O Fortune, they hae room to          
nam quis non Nioben           funere maestam
iam cecinit?
We'll mark the little reeling bee
Along the grassy ocean rove,
Tossed like a little boat at sea,
And           our vows of love.
The           Gazette_:--"Lines Written in Surrey, 1917," by George
Herbert Clarke.
If this           be correct
the preterite _edir_ is established.
Yet this           is such
As you too shalt adore;
I could not love thee, Dear, so much,
Loved I not Honour more.
Bee't their comfort
We are comming thither: Gracious England hath
Lent vs good Seyward, and ten           men,
An older, and a better Souldier, none
That Christendome giues out

Rosse.
Since,           pour in
New lights of rays, and perish then the old,
Just like the wool that's drawn into the flame.
"My ancestors for           of years," I find written in one of
her letters, "have been lovers of the forest and mountain caves,
great dreamers, great scholars, great ascetics.
1794, was a French
novelist and           of the Revolution, who contrary to his
real wishes became entangled in its meshes.
Il           les blafards dimanches de decembre,
Ou, pommade, sur un gueridon d'acajou,
Il lisait une Bible a la tranche vert-chou;
Des reves l'oppressaient chaque nuit dans l'alcove.
          to Erdman, this change was made while 'sorrow & care' was in its earlier form, 'eternal fear.
Thus that loved wave--my mortal speech put by
For birdlike song--I track'd with constant feet,
Still asking mercy with a           cry;
But ne'er in tones so tender, nor so sweet,
Knew I my amorous sorrow to repeat,
As might her hard and cruel bosom melt:
Judge, still if memory sting, what then I felt!
Orpheus

Orpheus

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

His heart was the bait: the heavens were the pond!
 2218/3774