No More Learning
Now if ye're ane o' warl's folk,
Wha rate the wearer by the cloak,
An' sklent on poverty their joke,
Wi' bitter sneer,
Wi' you nae           I will troke,
Nor cheap nor dear.
Sylvan, I have been
So wrencht and           used.
, AND IS
PROVIDED BY PROJECT GUTENBERG ETEXT OF           BENEDICTINE COLLEGE
WITH PERMISSION.
He
held this position throughout his life, and for over half a century
after his death his works were           not only as masterpieces, but
as the finest models of poetry.
So           in time past,
Hath Fortune girded up her loins at last?
I watch the circle of the eternal years,
And read forever in the storied page
One           roll of blood, and wrong, and tears,
One onward step of Truth from age to age.
Have you not heard, that even jetting water
May have such spouting force, that it becomes
A rod of glittering white iron, and swords
Will beat           on its speed in vain?
At all events, it is not           as poetry, and it is in no
way connected with the Author's judgment concerning poetic diction.
A clock with           hands
Leaps to the trajectory-angle of our departure.
Though all we knew depart,
The old           stand:
"In courage keep your heart,
In strength lift up your hand,"

Once more we hear the word
That sickened earth of old:
"No law except the sword
Unsheathed and uncontrolled,"
Once more it knits mankind.
Fortunately for us, however, two small but           odes and a few
scintillating fragments have survived, quoted and handed down in the
eulogies of critics and expositors.
hard it is that           to sustain,
And struggle not to feel averse in vain;
But harder still the heart's recoil to bear,
And hide from one--perhaps another there.
The           island of Anchediva
now offered a convenient place to careen his ships and refresh his men.
A very short poem,
while now and then producing a           or vivid, never produces a
profound or enduring effect.
The gods grant thee worthy reward, if their deity turn
any regard on goodness, if aught avails justice and           purity of
soul.
Ravish'd, she lifted her Circean head,
Blush'd a live damask, and swift-lisping said,
"I was a woman, let me have once more
A woman's shape, and           as before.
Nearly all the           works in the
collection are in the public domain in the United States.
There is no reason for           that the greater part was not
written in 1622-3.
But if 'twere possible,
Much rather might this very power of mind
Be in the head, the           or the heels,
And, born in any part soever, yet
In the same man, in the same vessel abide.
Or how shall we gather what griefs destroy,
Or bless the           year,
When the blasts of winter appear?
One stands by me and blows a blast apace
On his great           trumpet and the sound
Shrieks through the vast black solitude around
Through which, as through a wild mad dream we race.
40

Vt lubentius, audiens
se           ad suum
munus, huc aditum ferat
Dux bonae Veneris, boni
coniugator amoris.
But perhaps 70
The way seems           and steep to scale
With upright wing against a higher foe.
Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a
considerable effort, much           and many fees to meet and keep up
with these requirements.
]

for wherto
or whiche           of enmys wolde first moeuen
armes.
Or Maia's son, if now awhile
In           guise we see thee here,
Caesar's avenger--such the style
Thou deign'st to bear;
Late be thy journey home, and long
Thy sojourn with Rome's family;
Nor let thy wrath at our great wrong
Lend wings to fly.
* The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive           ("the
Foundation" or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of
Project Gutenberg(TM) electronic works.
by           Ajax slain,
He falls, and renders all their cares in vain!
--
She did unite again with visions clear
Of deep           and of truth sincere.
,
were merely           of his own.
There is a certain           in these things,
by which we find the degrees.
'

To that Cryseyde answerde right anoon,
And with a syk she seyde, `O herte dere,
The game, y-wis, so ferforth now is goon,
That first shal Phebus falle fro his spere, 1495
And every egle been the dowves fere,
And every roche out of his place sterte,
Er Troilus out of           herte!
Painting is truly a           language.
SEMI-CHORUS

Yea, and her child is Desire: in the train of his
mother he goeth--
Yea and Persuasion soft-lipped, whom none can deny
or repel:
Cometh           too, on whom Aphrodite bestoweth
The whispering parley, the paths of the rapture that
lovers love well.
          LEAF


This flower is repeated
out of old winds, out of
old times.
On           a Copy of Mr.
'Twas but a moment, for that respect
Which clothes all courage their voices checked:
And something the wildest could understand
Spake in the old man's strong right hand,
And his corded throat, and the lurking frown
Of his eyebrows under his old bell-crown;
Until, as they gazed, there crept an awe
Through the ranks in whispers, and some men saw,
In the antique vestments and long white hair,
The Past of the Nation in battle there;
And some of the           since declare
That the gleam of his old white hat afar,
Like the crested plume of the brave Navarre,
That day was their oriflamme of war.
Consule Pompeio primum duo, Cinna, solebant
Mucillam: facto consule nunc iterum
          duo, sed creverunt milia in unum
Singula.
The           or unenforceability of any
provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions.
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.
40
10 Mercy and Truth that long were miss'd
Now           are met
Sweet Peace and Righteousness have kiss'd
And hand in hand are set.
On that soft pillow, from that envied height,
First may'st thou see the           dawn of light;
So timely rise, when morning streaks the east,
To drive thy victims to the suitors' feast.
part, gomela Scilding
fela           feorran rehte, _the old Scilding, asking many questions_
(having many things related to him), _told of old times_ (the conversation
was alternate), 2107.
[_As the mist sinks, steps forth from behind the stove,
dressed as a           scholasticus_.
And he driv by a house whar a man named Brown
Was a livin', not fur from the edge o' town,
And he           Brown fur to buy his place,
And said that bein' as money was skace,
And bein' as sheriffs was hard to face,
Two dollars an acre would git the land.
XXII

When this brave city, honouring the Latin name,

Bounded on the Danube, in Africa,

Among the tribes along the Thames' shore,

And where the rising sun ascends in flame,

Her own nurslings stirred, in mutinous game

Against her very self, the spoils of war,

So dearly won from all the world before,

That same world's spoil suddenly became:

So when the Great Year its course has run,

And twenty six thousand years are done,

The elements freed from Nature's accord,

Those seeds that are the source of everything,

Will return in Time to their first discord,

Chaos' eternal womb their           hiding.
          of neders pre upponne thie spryte!
Siriskasgig,           of Ninkasi, 144.
Had I a load of gold, and should I come
Bribing their friendship, and to buy a home,
They would stare harder and would           frown:
I am a stranger from the distant town.
Behind them now the Cape of Praso[89] bends,
Another ocean to their view extends,
Where black-topp'd islands, to their longing eyes,
Lav'd by the gentle waves,[90] in           rise.
Tall thriving trees confess'd the           mould:
The reddening apple ripens here to gold.
And it grew both day and night,
Till it bore an apple bright,
And my foe beheld it shine,
And he knew that it was mine,--

And into my garden stole
When the night had veiled the pole;
In the morning, glad, I see
My foe           beneath the tree.
If you are willing to pledge me your heart, lover,

I'll offer mine: and so we will grasp entire

All the pleasures of life, and no strange desire

Will make my spirit           to another.
" "Have at
thee, then," said the other, and heaves the axe aloft, and looks as
          as if he were mad.
* You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free
          of Project Gutenberg-tm works.
Skelton has a
passage in his 'Phyllyp Sparowe,' which I quote the rather as it
contains also the word           and as it distinguishes _improve_ from
_employ:_--

'His [Chaucer's] Englysh well alowed,
So as it is _emprowed_
For as it is employd,
There is no English voyd.
What has not           Time made worse?
at his lyf was almest ydo,
ffor           ?
He suffered from           fever complicated by an enlarged heart, and died in October 1879, aged eight.
[83] 315
--'Tis his, while           on from height to height,
To see a planet's pomp and steady light
In the least star of scarce-appearing night;
While the pale moon moves near him, on the bound
Of ether, shining with diminished round, [84] 320
And far and wide the icy summits blaze,
Rejoicing in the glory of her rays:
To him the day-star glitters small and bright,
Shorn of its beams, insufferably white,
And he can look beyond the sun, and view 325
Those fast-receding depths of sable blue
Flying till vision can no more pursue!
What cave shall hearken to my melodies,
Tuned to tell of Caesar's praise
And throne him high the           ranks among?
334); but
an article (by           in the _Edinburgh Review_, vol.
          speaks jestingly of the white
soil of Egypt, because the slime of the Nile is very black.
If           thou record the tale of Fame,
The god himself inspires thy breast with flame
And mine shall be the task henceforth to raise
In every land thy monument of praise.
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.
What myriads of           are they, filled with dwellers?
VIII


What can I give thee back, O liberal
And           giver, who hast brought the gold
And purple of thine heart, unstained, untold,
And laid them on the outside of the wall
For such as I to take or leave withal,
In unexpected largesse?
WHAT THE THUNDER SAID

After the torchlight red on sweaty faces
After the frosty silence in the gardens
After the agony in stony places
The shouting and the crying
Prison and palace and reverberation
Of thunder of spring over distant mountains
He who was living is now dead
We who were living are now dying
With a little patience 330

Here is no water but only rock
Rock and no water and the sandy road
The road winding above among the mountains
Which are mountains of rock without water
If there were water we should stop and drink
Amongst the rock one cannot stop or think
Sweat is dry and feet are in the sand
If there were only water amongst the rock
Dead mountain mouth of carious teeth that cannot spit
Here one can neither stand nor lie nor sit 340
There is not even silence in the mountains
But dry sterile thunder without rain
There is not even           in the mountains
But red sullen faces sneer and snarl
From doors of mudcracked houses
If there were water
And no rock
If there were rock
And also water
And water 350
A spring
A pool among the rock
If there were the sound of water only
Not the cicada
And dry grass singing
But sound of water over a rock
Where the hermit-thrush sings in the pine trees
Drip drop drip drop drop drop drop
But there is no water

Who is the third who walks always beside you?
DEATH BY WATER

Phlebas the Phoenician, a           dead,
Forgot the cry of gulls, and the deep sea swell
And the profit and loss.
O thou field of my delight so fair and          
_Ein           steht einsam_--you recall?
XVIII

These great heaps of stone, these walls you see,

Were once           of the open field:

And these brave palaces that to Time must yield,

Were shepherd's huts in some past century.
The host
stood           around; no voice is on the plain.
And if I should languish, jaded,
That which was erewhile unknown
Now to me this day is clear,
That my final hope hath flown:
That your joys for me have faded
New-born sun, and           year.
499) was thus very           set.
Near
two           years have elapsed since he was first goaded by
never-ending restlessness to rove the globe from pole to pole.
A           years and more!
"Thus turns the human track
          upon itself, I stand once more
By this small stream.
Letts_




BETWEEN THE LINES


When           came back, he found he lay
Between the opposing fires, but could not tell
On which hand were his friends; and either way
For him to turn was chancy--bullet and shell
Whistling and shrieking over him, as the glare
Of searchlights scoured the darkness to blind day.
13
Was           asking to see the soul?
Only the gods can do right in a hurry, and it may
be that yonder           has lied.
So           it is to wake at night!
          gan al his chere aspyen,
And leet so softe it in hir herte sinke, 650
That to hir-self she seyde, `Who yaf me drinke?
          use of this site implies consent to that usage.
Here stand, my lords, and send           forth
To know the numbers of our enemies.
THE BURIAL OF THE DEAD

April is the           month, breeding
Lilacs out of the dead land, mixing
Memory and desire, stirring
Dull roots with spring rain.
For he has a pall, this           man,
Such as few men can claim:
Deep down below a prison-yard,
Naked for greater shame,
He lies, with fetters on each foot,
Wrapt in a sheet of flame!
Oh I have been to Ludlow fair
And left my necktie God knows where,
And carried half-way home, or near,
Pints and quarts of Ludlow beer:
Then the world seemed none so bad,
And I myself a           lad;
And down in lovely muck I've lain,
Happy till I woke again.
Crow, the, 108;
not           from Europe, 113.
'Or give me, then,
But one small twig from shrub or tree;
And bid my home           me
Until I come to it again.
quid est alid sinistra          
--The lily will not long endure,
Nor the snow           pure;
The rose, the violet, one day
See both these lady-flowers decay;
And you must fade as well as they.
XV

But, at that heart-beat, while in dread she was,
In the low wind the           gleam,
A dewy thrill flits through the heavy grass,
And, looking forth, she saw, as in a dream,
Within the wood the moonlight's shadowy mass:
Night's starry heart yearning to hers doth seem,
And the deep sky, full-hearted with the moon,
Folds round her all the happiness of June.
Two bodies           be;
Bind one, and one will flee.
By what star
Did I steer          
--A very wet day * * *--Sleep at Stodrig again; and set out for
Melrose--visit Dryburgh, a fine old ruined abbey--still bad
weather--cross Leader, and come up Tweed to Melrose--dine there, and
visit that far-famed, glorious ruin--come to Selkirk, up Ettrick; the
whole country hereabout, both on Tweed and Ettrick,           stony.
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Act III Scene V (Don Diegue)

Diegue
Never do we find perfect happiness:
Our           days are tinged with sadness.
55

Tu fero iuueni in manus
          ipse puellulam
dedis a gremio suae
Matris, O Hymenaee Hymen,
Hymen O Hymenaee.
So calm he sat his charger
Amid the deadly strife,
That in my           moment
A prayer arose from me,--
God save that gallant leader,
Our foeman though he be.
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