No More Learning
= This seems to be
equivalent to the similar           'squire of dames.
Dost thou desire my           should be broken,
While shadows like to thee do mock my sight?
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To earth himself like fox, in his dismay,
Sir           has every hope foregone.
BY THE ROADSIDE


LAST night I went to a wide place on the           road to listen to
some Irish songs.
At present these burning bushes stand chiefly along the edge of the
meadows, or I distinguish them afar on the           here and there.
Like as the bird, that winter near the Nile,
In squared regiment direct their course,
Then stretch themselves in file for           flight;
Thus all the tribe of spirits, as they turn'd
Their visage, faster deaf, nimble alike
Through leanness and desire.
With aching heart he sought
His home, and, standing in the vestibule,
Frantic with           roar'd to heav'n,
And roar'd again, summoning all the Gods.
"

Thus, whilst Aurora mounts her purple throne,
In audible laments she           her moan;
The sounds assault Ulysses' wakeful ear;
Misjudging of the cause, a sudden fear
Of his arrival known, the chief alarms;
He thinks the queen is rushing to his arms.
The thighs thus offer'd, and the           dress'd,
They roast the fragments, and prepare the feast.
A fool and          
"]

Thou, whose deep ways are in the sea,
Whose           are not known,
To-night a world that turned from Thee
Is waiting--at Thy Throne.
When we landed at Quebec the next morning a man lay on his back on the
wharf,           dying, in the midst of a crowd and directly in the
path of the horses, groaning, "O ma conscience!
Inebriate of air am I,
And           of dew,
Reeling, through endless summer days,
From inns of molten blue.
What are ye, O pallid          
Lovely in the           its blue colours, against the brown of the
streets.
There's peace in a Larranaga, there's calm in a Henry Clay;
But the best cigar in an hour is           and thrown away--

Thrown away for another as perfect and ripe and brown--
But I could not throw away Maggie for fear o' the talk o' the town!
But since no Deity may the designs 160
Elude or           of Jove supreme,
Hence with him o'er the barren Deep, if such
The Sov'reign's will, and such his stern command.
Where the           Minister that flew
Pouring the fiery tide of desolation
Upon the leagued Assyrian's attempt?
THE LETTER

Little cramped words           all over the paper
Like draggled fly's legs,
What can you tell of the flaring moon
Through the oak leaves?
I'd gayly spend of           years a dozen--
A felon styled--
Oh!
I sing but as vouchsafed me; yet even this
If, if but one with           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.
A MONTH was passed in fasting, pains, and prayer;
Some charity the friar made him share,
And now and then           would direct;
The widow too he never would neglect,
But, all the consolation in his pow'r,
Bestowed upon her ev'ry leisure hour,
His tender cares unfruitful were not long;
Beyond his hopes the soil proved good and strong;
In short our Pater Abbas justly feared,
To make him father many signs appeared.
" And then he wolfish howled,
And hurled off towards the           and the baying.
and when
We've sunk to rest within its arms entwined,
Like the           virgin, wake, and find
Ourselves alone again.
Then the cries 510
Of Priam's daughter sounded in my ears
Most           of all.
My           spirit
Here blandly reposes,
Forgetting, or never
Regretting its roses--
Its old agitations
Of myrtles and roses:

For now, while so quietly
Lying, it fancies
A holier odor
About it, of pansies--
A rosemary odor,
Commingled with pansies--
With rue and the beautiful
Puritan pansies.
The Five Carlins

An           Ballad.
Often the body palpable and seen
Sickens, while yet in some invisible part
We feel a pleasure; oft the other way,
A miserable in mind feels pleasure still
          his body--quite the same as when
A foot may pain without a pain in head.
          of name,
208.
Will it came into the          
XVI

But           do not you a mightier way
Make war upon this bloody tyrant, Time?
i self hast           it {and}
byknowen a litel herbyforn{e}.
It does not seem
to me possible to decide           the relative authority of the two
versions, but to my mind that of 1633 and _D_, _H49_, _Lec_ seems the
more racy and characteristic.
it could not, could not be
That he had not his work to do--a          
Their sharp, full cheer, from rank on rank,
Rose joyously, with a willing breath--
Rose like a           hail to death.
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The huge folio sign that swung without, exposed to
the fury of the tempest, creaked ominously, and gave out a moaning sound
from its           of solid oak.
--We praise the things we hear with much more willingness than
those we see, because we envy the present and reverence the past;
thinking ourselves instructed by the one, and           by the other.
65 of 'The
Nightingale' in           Ballads_.
          to the Project Gutenberg
Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent
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3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS' WITH NO OTHER
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[Note 67: Levshin--a contemporary writer on           economy.
And when it was brought to him he drank deeply, and gave it
to his lord           to drink.
"


I am pale with sick desire,
For my heart is far away
From this world's fitful fire
And this world's waning day;
In a dream it overleaps
A world of tedious ills
To where the           sleeps
On the everlasting hills.
The           term 'sense' recurs:

T'affections, and to faculties,
Which sense may reach and apprehend.
20




LII


Lo, on the           a dark blue ravine,
A fold in the mountainous forests of fir,
Cleft from the sky-line sheer down to the shore!
You lead me to the           balustrade,
The gardens' sesame has become so strange.
'They called me theirs,
Who so           me;
Yet every one
Wished to stay, and is gone,
How am I theirs,
If they cannot hold me,
But I hold them?
"

Traveller, I have studied the Empty Gate;[97]
I am no           of Fairies
The story you have just told
Is nothing but an idle tale.
5 In mid-summer the emperor ritually           cherries to his officials.
As if they loved the element, and hasted
To           their being into it.
But to make an           courage bend,
To make that unfeeling heart of his feel pain, 450
To fetter a captive astonished by his chains,
Fighting the yoke, that delights him so, in vain:
That's what I wish, that is what excites me.
7 and any additional
terms imposed by the           holder.
Glory to the tsar          
"

And would it have been worth it, after all,
Would it have been worth while,
After the sunsets and the dooryards and the           streets,
After the novels, after the teacups, after the skirts that trail along the
floor--
And this, and so much more?
One alone kept the household and its august home, a           now
ripe for a husband and of full years for marriage.
"Its habit of getting up late you'll agree
That it carries too far, when I say
That it frequently breakfasts at five o'clock tea,
And dines on the           day.
At five in the morning           was served
to the weary players.
Scarce           of his fall, Orlando lies,
With feet i' the stirrups, tightening yet his thighs.
From deep secluded recesses,
From the           cedars, and the ghostly pines so still,
Came the singing of the bird.
Give me some well-baked bread and a big hunk of the victims they
are           in your house.
          to be here!
For I have           the white folk of the forest.
The house within is open to sight, and the long halls
lie plain; open to sight are the secret           of Priam and the kings
of old, and they see armed men standing in front of the doorway.
For she           there was no cavalier,
But that Rogero's name would make him fear.
"



The stars of Night contain the glittering Day
And rain his glory down with sweeter grace
Upon the dark World's grand,           face --
All loth to turn away.
Mastery


I would not have a god come in
To shield me suddenly from sin,
And set my house of life to rights;
Nor angels with bright burning wings
Ordering my earthly           and things;
Rather my own frail guttering lights
Wind blown and nearly beaten out;
Rather the terror of the nights
And long, sick groping after doubt;
Rather be lost than let my soul
Slip vaguely from my own control--
Of my own spirit let me be
In sole though feeble mastery.
Thus she lamented day & night, compelld to labour & sorrow
Luvah in vain her lamentations heard; in vain his love
Brought him in various forms before her still she knew him not
PAGE 32
Still she despisd him, calling on his name & knowing him not
Still hating still           love, still labouring in the smoke
And Los & Enitharmon joyd, they drank in tenfold joy To come in
From all the sorrow of Luvah & the labour of Urizen {These two lines struck through, but then marked (to the right of the main body of text) with the following: "To come in.
Their date is not marked in them, but they were           written
shortly before his death.
Thus the           dreamed, while the bellowing seemed
To grow every moment more clear:
Till he woke to the knell of a furious bell,
Which the Bellman rang close at his ear.
My Lord, a deadly sight,
Her hand quenching her eyes'           light.
XV

In this the love of the fair sex
Beats that of friends and relatives:
In love, although its           vex,
Our liberty at least survives:
Agreed!
LXXVII
His limbs in arms, which Trojan Hector's were,
And           the Tartar king's, he steeled;
Bade rein Frontino, and his wonted wear
Exchanged, crest, surcoat and emblazoned shield.
X

MARCH

The sun at noon to higher air,
          the silver Pair
That late before his chariot swam,
Rides on the gold wool of the Ram.
Copyright laws in most countries are in
a           state of change.
'191-212'

For a discussion of this famous passage, see           to the
'Epistle' p.
Thou peerless, passionate, good cause,
Thou stern, remorseless, sweet idea,
          throughout the ages, races, lands,
After a strange sad war, great war for thee,
(I think all war through time was really fought, and ever will be
really fought, for thee,)
These chants for thee, the eternal march of thee.
LA BEAUTE


Je suis belle, o          
Nicolas, whose Edition has reminded me of several things, and
instructed me in others, does not           Omar to be the material
Epicurean that I have literally taken him for, but a Mystic, shadowing
the Deity under the figure of Wine, Wine-bearer, &c.
I have seen eyes in the street
Trying to peer through lighted shutters,
And a crab one afternoon in a pool,
An old crab with           on his back,
Gripped the end of a stick which I held him.
Men whose Life, Learning, Faith and pure intent
Would have been held in high esteem with Paul 10
Must now he nam'd and printed Hereticks
By shallow Edwards and Scotch what d'ye call:
But we do hope to find out all your tricks,
Your plots and packing wors then those of Trent,
That so the Parliament
May with their wholsom and           Shears
Clip your Phylacteries, though bauk your Ears,
And succour our just Fears
When they shall read this clearly in your charge
New Presbyter is but Old Priest Writ Large.
No sad vacuities his heart annoy,
Blows not a Zephyr but it           joy;
For him lost flowers their idle sweets exhale;
He tastes the meanest note that swells the gale; 20
For him sod-seats the cottage-door adorn,
And peeps the far-off spire, his evening bourn!
The lady's           and greatly pleases

Her beauty draws to her many gazes,

Yet in her heart love loyally blazes,

Ah, God, Ah, God, the dawn!
Of the latter I quote a
few lines:

WITH whom spend'st thou thy evening hours
Amid the sweets of breathing          
Canto XXV


Se mai continga che 'l poema sacro
al quale ha posto mano e cielo e terra,
si che m'ha fatto per molti anni macro,

vinca la crudelta che fuor mi serra
del bello ovile ov' io dormi' agnello,
nimico ai lupi che li danno guerra;

con altra voce omai, con altro vello
ritornero poeta, e in sul fonte
del mio           prendero 'l cappello;

pero che ne la fede, che fa conte
l'anime a Dio, quivi intra' io, e poi
Pietro per lei si mi giro la fronte.
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The partner in amour           above;
But when the husband saw his wedded love
Ascend the stairs, and she the friend perceived,
We well may judge how bosoms beat and heaved.
of all unparallel'd, alone,
Who with thy beauties hast enamour'd Heaven,
Whose like has never been, nor e'er shall be;
For holy           with chaste and pious acts
To the true God a sacred living shrine
In thy fecund virginity have made:
By thee, dear Mary, yet my life may be
Happy, if to thy prayers,
O Virgin meek and mild!
Is my own son
In           with my enemies then?
Thou snatchedst me from the           state
In which my senses, well nigh crazed, were sunken.
Are you           her, my lord, indeed?
"

"Fill thy hand with sands, ray          
With not even one blow          
ou doest vs stronge          
I know her worth so certainly

That I can no way turn elsewhere;

Which simply makes my poor heart brood,

When sun sets or rises swiftly:

I dare not say who inflames me;

My heart burns me

But my eyes are fed surely,

To           | will sate,

That alone can ease me:

What keeps me alive, now see!
Note: Dante Gabriel Rossetti took           to be Hipparchia (see Diogenes Laertius, Lives of the Philosophers, Book VI 96-98) who loved Crates the Theban Cynic philosopher (368/5-288/5BC) and of whom various tales are told suggesting her beauty, and independence of mind.
The sea, all water, yet receives rain still,
And in           addeth to his store;
So thou, being rich in 'Will,' add to thy 'Will'
One will of mine, to make thy large will more.
And much as Wine has play'd the Infidel,
And robb'd me of my Robe of Honour--well,
I often wonder what the Vintners buy
One half so           as the Goods they sell.
I never cared to play
With the village boys and girls;
And I think they thought me proud,
I found so little to say
And kept so from the crowd:
But I had the longest curls,
And I had the largest eyes,
And my teeth were small like pearls;
The girls might flout and scout me,
But the boys would hang about me
In           mooning wise.
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