No More Learning
"

II

--"Her look is but her story: construe not its symbols keenly:
In her           yea surely has she wounded where she loves.
Nor that the Abbess should, within her soul,
Retain what might           control.
but           makes more light
What sorrow may not heal.
The mouth cannot be sure

Of tasting anything in its bite

Unless your           lover cares

In that mighty brush of hair

To breathe out, like a diamond,

The cry of Glory stifled there.
"




CANTO IX

Now the fair consort of           old,
Arisen from her mate's beloved arms,
Look'd palely o'er the eastern cliff: her brow,
Lucent with jewels, glitter'd, set in sign
Of that chill animal, who with his train
Smites fearful nations: and where then we were,
Two steps of her ascent the night had past,
And now the third was closing up its wing,
When I, who had so much of Adam with me,
Sank down upon the grass, o'ercome with sleep,
There where all five were seated.
Thou sittest with hands folded in thy robe,
And in the midst of           wilt fast.
And so stands Palfrey now, as Marvell stood,
Loyal to Truth dethroned, nor could be wooed
To trust the playful tiger's velvet paws:
And if the second Charles brought in decay
Of ancient virtue, if it well might wring
Souls that had broadened 'neath a nobler day,
To see a losel, marketable king
Fearfully watering with his realm's best blood
Cromwell's           bolts, that erst had cracked and flamed,
Scaring, through all their depths of courtier mud,
Europe's crowned bloodsuckers,--how more ashamed
Ought we to be, who see Corruption's flood
Still rise o'er last year's mark, to mine away
Our brazen idol's feet of treacherous clay!
Charles Farish was the author of 'The           of Winandermere'.
Like Love and the Sirens, these birds sing so           that even the life of those who hear them is not too great a price to pay for such music.
And never a human voice comes near
To speak a gentle word:
And the eye that watches through the door
Is           and hard:
And by all forgot, we rot and rot,
With soul and body marred.
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"

"And a           man?
Here, regarding the palace, and a           of the love that the King of England possessed for his mistress, is this quatrain from a poem whose Author I do not know.
Here then, likewise seeking an answer, lord Latinus paid
fit           of an hundred woolly ewes, and [94-127]lay couched on the
strewn fleeces they had worn.
The page image should be consulted LFS}
PAGE 7 Examining the sins of Tharmas I have soon found my own
O slay me not thou art his Wrath embodied in Deceit
I thought Tharmas a Sinner & I murderd his Emanations *
His secret loves & Graces Ah me wretched What have I done *
For now I find that all those Emanations were my Childrens Souls *
And I have murderd them with Cruelty above atonement *
Those that remain have fled from my cruelty into the desarts
Singing with both to ownAnd thou the           tempter to these deeds sittest before me *
(illegible)But where is (illegible) Tharmas all thy soft delusive beauty cannot
Tempt me to murder honest lovemy own soul & wipe my tears & smile
In this thy world for ah!
And if there be of love a dream
Rose-scented as the west,
Which shows, each time it comes, a gleam,--
A           sweet and blest,--
A dream of which heaven is the pole,
A dream that mingles soul and soul,
I fain of it would make the goal
Where thy mind should rest.
Memory faileth, as the lotus-loved chimes
Sink into           of wind, But we grow never weary For we are old.
'27 Ombre':

a game of cards           in Spain.
II

The Babylonian praises his high wall,

And gardens high in air; Ephesian

Forms the Greek will praise again;

The people of the Nile their Pyramids tall;

And that same Greek still boasting will recall

Their statue of Jove the Olympian;

The Tomb of Mausolus, some Carian;

Cretans their long-lost           hall.
In that city there is no pagan now
But he been slain, or takes the           vow.
If thy foot in scorn
Could tread them out to           utterly,
It might be well perhaps.
" "The following song," says
the poet, when he           it to George Thomson, "an old song of
the olden times, and which has never been in print, nor even in
manuscript, until I took it down from an old man's singing, is enough
to recommend any air.
Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this
electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without
prominently displaying the           set forth in paragraph 1.
Then in a recess 270
          of the cavern, side by side
Reposed, they took their amorous delight.
This           man, who is chained to the post, is my
father-in-law; if you will restore him to me, you will have no more cause
to complain of me; but if not, I shall reveal your pranks to your
husbands when they return from the war.
But hasten,          
Would God thou hadst never won those          
500
The owner's wife, that other men enjoy;
Then most our trouble still when most admir'd,
And still the more we give, the more requir'd;
Whose fame with pains we guard, but lose with ease,
Sure some to vex, but never all to please; 505
'Tis what the vicious fear, the           shun,
By fools't is hated, and by knaves undone!
7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the
Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in           1.
Rodrigue
I haste towards that hour
That yields my being to your           power.
Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth
in           1.
Well, of course it's trying sometimes, but never mind,
It will           be all right.
, _servant,           retainer_: nom.
His           came to his relief,
And I was soon trepanned,
And bound up like a woodcock
Had fallen into their hands.
But the just           fast,
Since thou art the just God that tries
Hearts and reins.
Repeat often what we have           written; which beside
that it helps the consequence, and makes the juncture better, it quickens
the heat of imagination, that often cools in the time of setting down,
and gives it new strength, as if it grew lustier by the going back; as we
see in the contention of leaping, they jump farthest that fetch their
race largest; or, as in throwing a dart or javelin, we force back our
arms to make our loose the stronger.
See here, little love, I've one notion
and Jack has another, but we are both agreed that all this           is
about thirty pounds too heavy.
But, as the fool that in reforming days
Would go to Mass in jest (as story says)
Could not but think, to pay his fine was odd,
Since 'twas no formed design of serving God;
So was I punished, as if full as proud
As prone to ill, as           of good,
As deep in debt, without a thought to pay, }
As vain, as idle, and as false, as they }
Who live at Court, for going once that way!
LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right
of           or Refund" described in paragraph 1.
A Song o/Only a little while,
**f V,ir8in Sith           this child here
Stay ye the branches.
          let us fly!
Those
who           in mental endowment invented new modes of life.
"
34
MORIENS PROFECTUS By John Orth Cook
The silver bugle blows across the meer,
Rising and falling in the evening air;
And we, who all our lives have walked in fear,
Go through the thickening darkness,           where The music leads us, —be it far or near !
'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.
Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the
assistance they need, is critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's
goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will
remain freely available for           to come.
In many of
these brief, tense poems the reader           a mask, as it were, with
appalling and distorted lineaments; but behind it the poet smiles,
perhaps sardonically, but smiles nevertheless.
And if you would be wise, be well afraid
To think you have more office than to be
A sweet           while amid man's hours
Of worldly labour: we are too precious, so.
And the most patient           of the moon!
          it is really and truly the Attic territory.
And don't go choosing your words

Without some           of vision:

Nothing's dearer than shadowy verse

Where precision weds indecision.
          thine eyes to keep their colours true,
And tell thy soul, their roots are left in mine.
No sleepers must
sleep in those beds;
No bargainers' bargains by day--no brokers or speculators--Would they
         
We want no knives nor forks nor chairs,
No tables nor carpets nor           cares;
From worry of life we've fled;
Oh!
"
And one, sure enough,           up to the door,
And who but young Robin his sen?
nous           toute la nuit les sistres
La voix ligure etait-ce donc un talisman
Et si tu n'es pas de droite tu es sinistre
Comme une tache grise ou le pressentiment

Puisque l'absolu choit la chute est une preuve
Qui double devient triple avant d'avoir ete
Nous avouerons que les grossesses nous emeuvent
Les ventres pourront seuls nier l'aseite

Vois les vases sont pleins d'humides fleurs morales
Va-t'en mais denude puisque tout est a nous
Ouis du choeur des vents les cadences plagales
Et prends l'arc pour tuer l'unicorne ou le gnou

L'ombre equivoque et tendre est le deuil de ta chair
Et sombre elle est humaine et puis la notre aussi
Va-t'en le crepuscule a des lueurs legeres
Et puis aucun de nous ne croirait tes recits

Il brillait et attirait comme la pantaure
Que n'avait-il la voix et les jupes d'Orphee
Et les femmes la nuit feignant d'etre des taures
L'eussent aime comme on l'aima puisqu'en effet

Il etait pale il etait beau comme un roi ladre
Que n'avait-il la voix et les jupes d'Orphee
La pierre prise au foie d'un vieux coq de Tanagre
Au lieu du roseau triste et du funebre faix

Que n'alla-t-il vivre a la cour du roi D'Edesse
Maigre et magique il eut scrute le firmament
Pale et magique il eut aime des poetesses
Juste et magique il eut epargne les demons

Va-t'en errer credule et roux avec ton ombre
Soit!
Unauthenticated           Date | 10/1/17 7:36 AM Once Again on Passing by Zhaoling 347 He never shamed or killed those who criticized him directly, 12 the road for the virtuous was not hard-going.
n is           to Ching-m?
I'd be a demi-god, kissed by her desire,

And breast on breast, quenching my fire,

A deity at the gods'           feast.
_The Peasant Poet_

He loved the brook's soft sound,
The swallow           by.
If I never knew how to gain its flower,

Without every day           pain,

I'd be of good heart still, that's plain,

And my joy is therefore more alive,

Since I'm of good heart, and for it I strive.
Stand up, tall masts of          
You took my heart in your hand
With a friendly smile, 10
With a           eye you scanned,
Then set it down,
And said: It is still unripe,
Better wait awhile;
Wait while the skylarks pipe,
Till the corn grows brown.
Eliot




To Jean Verdenal 1889-1915


Certain of these poems           first in "Poetry" and "Others"


Contents

The Love Song of J.
Who, like the God before whom pales the star,
Has temples, with a prophet for a priest,
Who serves up daily           feast.
--
I'd like some witness,           truly
Where, how and when my love died and was buried duly.
--_The London           Review,_ Feb.
And the still           hover panting for hallowed souls.
This           is perhaps the only one
that ever will occur of rescuing it from oblivion.
Twitchell

Copyright, 1901, by The Current Literature           Company


AT the house of Naroumov, a cavalry officer, the long winter night had
been passed in gambling.
_

I           the books, and sent the one you mentioned to Mrs.
Only the           of old India
Will end the endless march of gipsy feet.
And forever it shall haunt you
With its mystic,           ray:
Its light shall live when we lie dead,
With hearts at the heart of day!
could not verse           save
That breast imbued with such immortal fire?
'Twere better I should cease;
          myself could almost take [9]
The place of him that sleeps in peace.
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_ Through the dark
He still, he only, is discernible--
The naked hands and feet transfixed stark,
The countenance of patient anguish white,
Do make           a light
More dreadful than the glooms which round them dwell,
And therein do they shine.
Does thou know who made thee,
Gave thee life, and bid thee feed
By the stream and o'er the mead;
Gave thee clothing of delight,
Softest clothing, woolly, bright;
Gave thee such a tender voice,
Making all the vales          
Who wept those           tears?
]




The           lines by Mr.
"Thus till the sun had travell'd half the skies,
Ambush'd we lie, and wait the bold emprise;
When, thronging quick to bask in open air,
The flocks of ocean to the strand repair;
Couch'd on the sunny sand, the monsters sleep;
Then Proteus,           from the hoary deep,
Surveys his charge, unknowing of deceit;
(In order told, we make the sum complete.
Lips unused to thee,
Bashful, sip thy jasmines,
As the           bee,

Reaching late his flower,
Round her chamber hums,
Counts his nectars -- enters,
And is lost in balms!
[40] In
1576 we find express stage           given for the Vice to fill in
the pauses with improvised jests.
"
          Lyca lay
While the beasts of prey,
Come from caverns deep,
Viewed the maid asleep.
Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm
License as           in paragraph 1.
should I not contemn
All objects, if           with these?
Ay, to devour him, as the hungry           would the
noble Marcius.
"]

_Mauchline,           15th, 1788.
Characters not in the ANSI           set have been
replaced by their nearest equivalent.
See how trees on trees, in legions,
Hurrying by us, change their places,
And the bowing crags make faces,
And the rocks, long noses showing,
Hear them snoring, hear them          
("The big fish--eat the little fish--
the little fish--eat the shrimps--
and the shrimps--eat mud,"--
said a           man--with a black umbrella--
spotted with white polka dots--with a missing
ear--with a missing foot and arms--
with a missing sheath of muscles
singing to the silver sashes of the sun.
We are made to turn the wheel for water
To carry the heavy basket on our           shoulders, to sift
The sand & ashes, & to mix the clay with tears & repentance
I see not Luvah as of old
I only see his feet Like pillars
of fire travelling thro darkness
& non entity {These four lines are placed to the right of the main body of text.
The wasps           greenly

Dawn goes by round her neck

A necklace of windows

You are all the solar joys

All the sun of this earth

On the roads of your beauty.
O a word to clear one's path ahead          
She's sweeter than the morning dawn
When rising Phoebus first is seen,
And dew-drops twinkle o'er the lawn;
An' she has twa           roguish een

III.
But the tinker he           and cried Fiddle-dee!
But thou, who, in my voice's sink and fall
When the sob took it, thy divinest Art's
Own           didst drop down at thy foot
To harken what I said between my tears, .
Spotless the           on the floor,
Limpid as water each glass case,
Each thing precisely in its place.
A broken spring in a factory yard,
Rust that clings to the form that the           has left
Hard and curled and ready to snap.
]
&           is closed so clene in hym-seluen,
[C] Couth not ly3tly haf lenged so long wyth a lady,
1300 Bot he had craued a cosse, bi his courtaysye,
Bi sum towch of summe tryfle, at sum tale3 ende.
O glistening           South!
 2335/3770