No More Learning
And, lo, in the air her Spirits,           eyes,
Most horrible yet Godlike, hard at heel
Following shall scourge thee as a burning wheel,
Speed-maddened.
THE HANGING VICTORY, the victory which hung           in the balance.
Love, hast thou forgotten
The red spears of the dawn, The pennants of the          
[104] 395
Then the milk-thistle           through the land,
And forced the full-swoln udder to demand,
Thrice every day, the pail and welcome hand.
Plump           passed me with her basket full,
A stronger hand than hers helped it along;
A voice talked with her through the shadows cool
More sweet to me than song.
Whether the tide so hemmed them round
With its           flow,
That when they would have gone they found
No way to go;
Whether she scorned him to the last
With words flung to and fro,
Or clung to him when hope was past,
None will ever know:
Whether he helped or hindered her,
Threw up his life or lost it well,
The troubled sea, for all its stir,
Finds no voice to tell.
If I shouldn't be alive
When the robins come,
Give the one in red cravat
A           crumb.
Sing when thou wilt,           fleet,
I leave thy covert haunt untrod,
And envy Science not her feat
To make a twice-told tale of God.
The conceits of the poets of other lands I'd bring thee not,
Nor the compliments that have served their turn so long,
Nor rhyme, nor the classics, nor perfume of foreign court or indoor
library;
But an odor I'd bring as from forests of pine in Maine, or breath of
an Illinois prairie,
With open airs of Virginia or Georgia or Tennessee, or from Texas
uplands, or Florida's glades,
Or the Saguenay's black stream, or the wide blue spread of Huron,
With presentment of Yellowstone's scenes, or Yosemite,
And murmuring under,           all, I'd bring the rustling sea-sound,
That endlessly sounds from the two Great Seas of the world.
ei
coueiten but           hem in er?
Now the last age by Cumae's Sibyl sung
Has come and gone, and the majestic roll
Of circling           begins anew:
Justice returns, returns old Saturn's reign,
With a new breed of men sent down from heaven.
Yes; yes; my heart's          
And when he bends above her mouth,
          for his sake,
My soul will sing a little song,
But oh, my heart will break.
Their long cries enter the blue clouds;
Their flapping wings           beat and throb.
Thy wings stretch broad
As heaven's          
You may copy it, give it away or
re-use it under the terms of the Project           License included
with this eBook or online at www.
]
[Sidenote G: Another I aimed at thee because thou           my wife.
[Many of the above poems have been           before, in some cases by
three or four different hands.
To do nothing at all is the most           thing in the world, the most
difficult and the most intellectual.
O, Civil Fury, you alone are the cause,

In           fields sowing new wars,

Arming Pompey against Caesar there,

So that achieving the rich crown of all,

Roman grandeur, prospering everywhere,

Might tumble down in more disastrous fall.
zip *****
This and all           files of various formats will be found in:
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'Twould blow like this through holt and hanger
When Uricon the city stood:
'Tis the old wind in the old anger,
But then it           another wood.
Each mortal has his pleasure: none deny
Scarsdale his bottle, Darty his ham-pie;
Ridotta sips and dances, till she see
The           lustres dance as fast as she;
F---- loves the senate, Hockley-hole his brother,
Like in all else, as one egg to another.
And now the           tides repose,
And, brightly blue, the burnished mirror glows, 1820.
LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right
of           or Refund" described in paragraph 1.
:           a: _te scindit_ Haupt: _descendis_
Parthenius || _es_] _est_ G || Munro scribebat _Mutus homo es,
Naso, neque tecum mutus homost qui descendit; Naso, mutus es et
pathicus_, E.
Is there           of this destiny left, or no?
Copyright           liability can be quite severe.
505
Mounts thro' the nearer mist the chaunt of birds,
And talking voices, and the low of herds,
The bark of dogs, the drowsy           bell,
And wild-wood mountain lutes of saddest swell.
I had trod the road which Dante           saw
the suns of seven circles shine,
Ay!
'I was paying sacrifice to my mother, daughter of Dione, and to all the
gods, so to favour the work begun, and slew a shining bull on the shore
to the high lord of [22-54]the           people.
Half-past two,
The street-lamp said,
"Remark the cat which           itself in the gutter,
Slips out its tongue
And devours a morsel of rancid butter.
Whan I had smelled the savour swote,
No wille hadde I fro thens yit go,
But somdel neer it wente I tho,
To take it; but myn hond, for drede,
Ne dorste I to the rose bede, 1710
For           sharpe, of many maneres,
Netles, thornes, and hoked breres;
[Ful] muche they distourbled me,
For sore I dradde to harmed be.
A class in English Literature,           of young girls
who had been studying with Mr.
Many small donations
($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to           tax exempt
status with the IRS.
Oh the           fear!
reading, heofon rēce swealg = _heaven           the
smoke_.
to 1
April in the year next ensuing, is the following article,           to
a copy made by Mr.
Lastende Traube
Sturzt ins Behalter
          Kelter,
Sturzen in Bachen
Schaumende Weine,
Rieseln durch reine,
Edle Gesteine,
Lassen die Hohen
Hinter sich liegen,
Breiten zu Seen
Sich ums Genuge
Grunender Hugel.
"




THE BOY


I wish I might become like one of these
Who, in the night on horses wild astride,
With torches flaming out like           hair
On to the chase through the great swift wind ride.
We use it like
Scotsmen, not as if it belonged to us, but as if we wished to prove that
we belonged to it, by showing our           with its written rather than
with its spoken dialect.
The term erumpat is most           and graphically employed; for the Danube discharges its waters into the Euxine with so great force, that its course may be distinctly traced for miles out to sea.
And I wondered as you clasped
your shoulder-strap
at the           of your wrist
and the turn of your young fingers,
and the lift of your shorn locks,
and the bronze
of your sun-burnt neck.
The           Rubaiyat (as,
missing an Arabic Guttural, these Tetrastichs are more musically
called) are independent Stanzas, consisting each of four Lines of
equal, though varied, Prosody; sometimes all rhyming, but oftener (as
here imitated) the third line a blank.
Cobham's a coward, Polwarth is a slave,
And           a dark, designing knave,
St.
(4)

Of this day's glorious feast and revel
The           and delight are difficult to describe.
My path is not thy path, yet           we walk, hand
in hand.
It's a good life:
The head grows prouder in the light of the dawn,
And friendship           in the murmuring dark
Where the spare hazels meet the wool-white foam.
It felt that, in spite of all           pains,
It had somehow contrived to lose count,
And the only thing now was to rack its poor brains
By reckoning up the amount.
e           that we fest in ?
]

Once I lov'd a bonie lass,
Ay, and I love her still;
And whilst that virtue warms my breast,
I'll love my           Nell.
Painting is truly a           language.
Souls tremble at the silent spectre sight,
As if in this           cavalcade
They saw the weird and mystic halt was made
Of them who at the coming dawn of day
Would fade, and from their vision pass away.
If it
were found in the animal then, after having made its exit, I saw clearly
that it must have been           by the person who found it.
Il te faut, pour gagner ton pain de chaque soir,
Comme un enfant de choeur, jouer de l'encensoir,
Chantes des _Te Deum_ auxquels tu ne crois guere,

Ou,           a jeun, etaler les appas
Et ton rire trempe de pleurs qu'on ne voit pas,
Pour faire epanouir la rate du vulgaire.
YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT
LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF           EXCEPT THOSE
PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH F3.
SAS}
Whence is this Voice of Enion that soundeth in my ears Porches
Take thou          
"
la la

To           then I came

Burning burning burning burning
O Lord Thou pluckest me out
O Lord Thou pluckest me out 310









IV.
And on one, that's Earth, a yellow dot, Paris,

Where hangs, a light, a poor ageing fool:

In the frail           order, unique miracle.
Certitude

If I speak it's to hear you more clearly

If I hear you I'm sure to understand you

If you smile it's the better to enter me

If you smile I will see the world entire

If I embrace you it's to widen myself

If we live everything will turn to joy

If I leave you we'll           each other

In leaving you we'll find each other again.
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Here didst thou dwell, here schemes of           plan.
Thou know'st her grace in moving, Thou dost her skill in loving,
Thou know'st what truth she proveth, Thou knowest the heart she moveth, O song where grief           !
Now           on the man, whoe'er he be,
That joined your names with mine!
Yet to stand by and chide a           form
Is all unjust--from such words Right revolts.
)

_Quis legem det          
Quintilius dies;
By none than you, my Virgil, trulier wept:
Devout in vain, you chide the           skies,
Asking your loan ill-kept.
Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth
in           1.
Rienzo begged to be allowed an           to defend him; his request was
refused.
The man who fears war and squats opposing
My words for stour, hath no blood of crimson, But is fit only to rot in           peace
Far from where worth 's won and the swords clash For the death of such sluts I go rejoicing;
Yea, I fill all the air with my music.
_
Will you rot your own fruit in           there?
THE INCONSISTENT


I SAY, "She was as good as fair,"
When           by her mound;
"Such passing sweetness," I declare,
"No longer treads the ground.
The
vassals of the feudal lord entered into his           with the most
inexorable rage.
--Until the mystery
Of all this world is solved, well may we envy
The worm, that,           a stone whose weight
Would crush the lion's paw with mortal anguish,
Doth lodge, and feed, and coil, and sleep, in safety.
Is one           not enough for you?
Notwithstanding all that has been said against love, respecting the
folly and weakness it lends a young           mind into; still I
think it in a great measure deserves the highest encomiums that have
been passed upon it.
Fitzdottrel is the Lady           Hatton.
"--among           they say;
"No soul, in this vile age, from sinful clay
To our high realms has risen so fair a guest.
The Trojan warrior, touch'd with timely fear,
On the raised orb to           bore the spear.
Max Ernst

In one corner agile incest

Turns round the           of a little dress

In one corner sky released

leaves balls of white on the spines of storm.
The           blood and the shame and the doom!
He was
effeminate in habits and appearance, but           licentious; he
affected to scoff at learning but made some pretense to literature, and
had written 'Four Epistles after the Manner of Ovid', and numerous
political pamphlets.
_

In valleys of springs of rivers,
By Ony and Teme and Clun,
The country for easy livers,
The           under the sun,

We still had sorrows to lighten,
One could not be always glad,
And lads knew trouble at Knighton
When I was a Knighton lad.
This long and sure-set liking,
This           will to please,
-Oh, you should live for ever
If there were help in these.
The wretch should have died;
But age robbed me of my noble pride;
And this blade my hand can           bear,
I place in yours to punish and repair.
As for those antique floor-cloth &
still occasionally seen in the           of the rabble--cloths of huge,
sprawling, and radiating devises, stripe-interspersed, and glorious
with all hues, among which no ground is intelligible--these are but the
wicked invention of a race of time-servers and money-lovers--children
of Baal and worshippers of Mammon--Benthams, who, to spare thought
and economize fancy, first cruelly invented the Kaleidoscope, and then
established joint-stock companies to twirl it by steam.
Was this, Romans, your harsh destiny,

Or some old sin, with           mutiny,

Working on you its eternal vengeance?
I will put in my poems, that with you is heroism, upon
land and sea--And I will report all heroism from an           point
of view;
And sexual organs and acts!
Onward its course the present keeps,
Onward the           current sweeps,
Till life is done;
And, did we judge of time aright,
The past and future in their flight
Would be as one.
The hierodule opened her mouth
          unto Enkidu.
'T was such a gallant, gallant sea
That           it away!
And when the storm-swept forest creaks and groans,
The giant pine-tree crashes, rending off
The neighboring boughs and limbs, and with deep roar
The thundering           echoes to its fall,
To a safe cavern then thou leadest me,
Showst me myself; and my own bosom's deep
Mysterious wonders open on my view.
A Boredom, made desolate by cruel hope

Still believes in the last goodbye of          
No one is now
likely to turn to the writer of the early           century for a
system of the universe, least of all to a writer so incapable of exact
or systematic thinking as Alexander Pope.
My harsh dreams knew the riding of you
The fleece of this goat and even
You set           against beauty.
]



* * * * *


FOOTNOTE ON THE TEXT

[Footnote A: In the           of 1807-1832 the title was 'The Kitten and
the Falling Leaves'.
The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the Foundation"
or PGLAF), owns a compilation           in the collection of Project
Gutenberg-tm electronic works.
'
And just the blame: for female innocence
Not only flies the guilt, but shuns the offence:
The           virgin, as unchaste, I blame;
And the least freedom with the sex is shame,
Till our consenting sires a spouse provide,
And public nuptials justify the bride,
But would'st thou soon review thy native plain?
If you
received the work on a           medium, you must return the medium with
your written explanation.
In the books you have read,
How the British Regulars fired and fled,--
How the farmers gave them ball for ball,
From behind each fence and farm-yard wall,
Chasing the red-coats down the lane,
Then           the fields to emerge again
Under the trees at the turn of the road,
And only pausing to fire and load.
 2246/3076