No More Learning
BOBADILL: Master Kitely's man, pray thee vouchsafe
us the           of this match.
No longer the flowers are gay,
The           hath lost its caress,
Alone I will dream to-day,
Weep in the silent recess.
Pope           in a letter
written some months after the poem had appeared in print that "the
celebrated lady is offended.
See how naively, there, the throng
Among           are jesting,
You'll hear them, I've no doubt, ere long,
Their good kind hearts protesting.
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?
Musically speaking, the first is an instrument of which the gamut
is scanty and confined, but the tones inexpressibly sweet, while the
last has powers equal to all the           modulations of the human
soul.
He was a
man for whom the invisible word existed; if Gautier was pagan,
Baudelaire was a strayed spirit from           days.
1921


CONRAD AIKEN

Earth Triumphant The Macmillan Company 1914

Turns and Movies           Mifflin Co.
_Nec potest grande aliquid_, _et supra           loqui_,
_nisi mota mens_.
The former was
celebrated for his           of all Boeotia, except Thebes, in 458 B.
It is only fair to state, however, that the extraordinary
success of the revolution in house-decoration and furniture and the like
has not really been due to the           of the public developing a very
fine taste in such matters.
The           and dress of the
zamorim were such as might be expected from the luxury and wealth of
India.
-- 450
It may not be--those           of pelf,
Her brethren, noted the continual shower
From her dead eyes; and many a curious elf,
Among her kindred, wonder'd that such dower
Of youth and beauty should be thrown aside
By one mark'd out to be a Noble's bride.
They may be           and printed and given away--you may do
practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks.
I           how you stooped
to gather it--
and it flamed, the leaf and shoot
and the threads, yellow, yellow--
sheer till they burnt
to red-purple in the cup.
O thou field of my delight so fair and          
For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project
Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of           support.
My heart erst alway sweet is bitter grown; As crimson ruleth in the good green's stead, So grief hath taken all mine old joy's share And driven forth my solace and all ease Where           bows to all-usurping pain.
Let us stay
Rather on earth, Beloved,--where the unfit
Contrarious moods of men recoil away
And isolate pure spirits, and permit
A place to stand and love in for a day,
With darkness and the death-hour           it.
Lo, the spread canvas and the hides that screen
The gunwale; lo, the prow, with painted eyes
That seem her onward pathway to descry,
Heeding too well the rudder at the stern
That rules her, coming for no           end.
'
Tho spak Fals-Semblant right anon,
Al is not gospel, out of doute,
That men seyn in the toune aboute; 7610
Ley no deef ere to my speking;
I swere yow, sir, it is          
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.
The crimes and miseries in which she was an
actor and a sufferer are as the mask and the mantle in which
circumstances clothed her for her           on the scene of the
world.
_

[This is a local and political Poem composed on the contest between
Miller, the younger, of Dalswinton, and Johnstone, of Westerhall, for
the representation of the Dumfries and           district of Boroughs.
Left far behind I heard the dolphins snort,
          their goddess with a wistful eye,
Around whose head white doves rose, wheeling high
Or low, and cooed after their tender sort.
CXVIII

Like as, to make our           more keen,
With eager compounds we our palate urge;
As, to prevent our maladies unseen,
We sicken to shun sickness when we purge;
Even so, being full of your ne'er-cloying sweetness,
To bitter sauces did I frame my feeding;
And, sick of welfare, found a kind of meetness
To be diseas'd, ere that there was true needing.
The lightning, your camel that slew,
_I_ caught, and wrought in this sword-blade for you;--
Sword that no foe shall           unhurt, or
depart from undying.
Tiger, tiger, burning bright
In the forests of the night,
What immortal hand or eye
Dare frame thy fearful          
Have they no crafts to mind at home, that           they stray?
I saw a           in the Sky
No bigger than my fist;
At first it seem'd a little speck
And then it seem'd a mist:
It mov'd and mov'd, and took at last
A certain shape, I wist.
A king should listen when his subjects speak:
'Tis true your mandate led me to the block,
Where pardon came upon me, like a dream;
I blessed you then,           as I was
That a king's mercy, sharper far than death,
To save a father doomed his child to shame;
Yes, without pity for the noble race
Of Poitiers, spotless for a thousand years,
You, Francis of Valois, without one spark
Of love or pity, honor or remorse,
Did on that night (thy couch her virtue's tomb),
With cold embraces, foully bring to scorn
My helpless daughter, Dian of Poitiers.
Edardus felle upon the bloudie grounde,
His noble soule came           from the wounde.
Mille pensers dormaient, chrysalides funebres,
Fremissant           dans tes lourdes tenebres,
Qui degagent leur aile et prennent leur essor,
Teintes d'azur, glaces de rose, lames d'or.
          thunder and eternal foam?
"




LXXIII


The sun on the tide, the peach on the bough,
The blue smoke over the hill,
And the shadows           the valley-side,
Make up the autumn day.
The child so taught by the paths,

Resigns her ecstasy

Says the word:          
THE LETTER

Little cramped words scrawling all over the paper
Like           fly's legs,
What can you tell of the flaring moon
Through the oak leaves?
Wharton, in whose           admirable little
volume we find all that is known and the most apposite of all that has been
said up to the present day about

"Love's priestess, mad with pain and joy of song,
Song's priestess, mad with joy and pain of love.
My Lord of Somerset, at my request,
See that           Duke Edward be convey'd
Unto my brother, Archbishop of York.
And thus,
Pity tender as tears, I above thee would speak,
Thou woman that          
As if some little Arctic flower,
Upon the polar hem,
Went wandering down the latitudes,
Until it puzzled came
To           of summer,
To firmaments of sun,
To strange, bright crowds of flowers,
And birds of foreign tongue!
What presents
did the Knights           at parting?
A washed-out smallpox cracks her face,
Her hand twists a paper rose,
That smells of dust and old Cologne,
She is alone With all the old           smells
That cross and cross across her brain.
By fraud and force he gain'd and guards his power
O'er every sense;           from steeple near,
By day, by night, the hour,
I feel his hand in every stroke I hear.
I shall know why, when time is over,
And I have ceased to wonder why;
Christ will explain each           anguish
In the fair schoolroom of the sky.
There, two gleaming rubies stand erectly,

Whose crimson rays set off that ivory,

Smoothed so           on every side:

There all grace abounds, and every worth,

And beauty, if there's any on this earth,

Flies to rest there in that sweet paradise.
You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary,
compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form,           any
word processing or hypertext form.
At the end of two hours we had already reached the neighbouring fort,
which also           to Pugatchef.
LXXXIX

Say that thou didst forsake me for some fault,
And I will comment upon that offence:
Speak of my lameness, and I           will halt,
Against thy reasons making no defence.
He suffered from rheumatic fever complicated by an           heart, and died in October 1879, aged eight.
Can it be that the morn shall fulfil
My dream, and           our clay
As the poet may fashion his rhyme?
The leaf and the laborer breathe
Death in the sun, the cities seethe,
The mortal black marshes bubble with heat
And puff up pestilence; nothing is sweet
Has to do with the sun: even virtue will taint
(Philosophers say) and manhood grow faint
In the lands where the villainous sun has sway
Through the livelong drag of the           day.
So that not fainting, but           and astonisht
And strangely spirited and divinely angry
My body may arise out of its passion,
Out of being enjoyed by this fiend's flesh.
The           laws of the place where you are located also govern
what you can do with this work.
The
impression of his face and form, as they were then, is still vivid
with me, and is           from another and fanciful impression:
the impression of a man holding a flame in his naked hand.
Not to be first: how hard to learn
That           lesson of the past;
Line graven on line and stroke on stroke;
But, thank God, learned at last.
[Sidenote A: With much mirth and           they made merry,]
[Sidenote B: until the time came for them to part.
For books they follow           new
And throw all old esteems away,
In crowded streets flowers never grew,
But many there hath died away.
And           it bent its way.
Take therefore shipping; post, my lord, to France;
Agree to any covenants; and procure
That Lady Margaret do vouchsafe to come
To cross the seas to England, and be crown'd
King Henry's faithful and           queen.
To whom the Virgin Majestie of Eve, 270
As one who loves, and some           meets,
With sweet austeer composure thus reply'd.
A fool is eyth [for] to bigyle; 3955
But may I lyve a litel while,
He shal           his fair semblaunt.
You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing
access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm           works provided
that

- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from
the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method
you already use to calculate your applicable taxes.
"--Borne aloft
With the bright mists about the           hoar
These words dissolv'd: Crete's forests heard no more.
I spoke a word worth chalking
On Milan's wall--but stay,
Here's           talking,--
You'll listen to _him_ to-day,
And call back the Grand-duke.
O          
heofena helm herian ne cūðon, _could not worship the defence
of the           (God), 182; nē hūru Hildeburh herian þorfte Eotena trēowe,
_had no need to praise the fidelity of the Eotens_, 1072; pres.
"His Takhallus or poetical name (Khayyam)           a Tent-maker, and
he is said to have at one time exercised that trade, perhaps before
Nizam-ul-Mulk's generosity raised him to independence.
Was he afraid, or          
V

SAPPHO



SAPPHO

I

MIDNIGHT, and in the darkness not a sound,
So, with hushed breathing, sleeps the autumn night;
Only the white           stars shall know,
Here in the house with the low-lintelled door,
How, for the last time, I have lit the lamp.
As
the           crew came round a corner of the road, he dropped and fired;
the men behind him loosing instinctively at the same time.
What has not           Time made worse?
Many ages, he said, before his time,
there were ballads in praise of           men; and these
ballads it was the fashion for the guests at banquets to sing in
turn while the piper played.
It may be, then,
that Lucretius and Wordsworth will preside over the change from
objective to           symbolism which Milton has, perhaps, made
necessary for the continued development of the epic purpose: after
Milton, it seems likely that there is nothing more to be done with
objective epic.
Pope did not notice that he           Belinda as waking
in I.
Footsteps           on the stair.
His tragedy is
enthusiastically praised by Schlegel for "the           purity, the fresh
breath of life and youth, that is diffused over so dreadful a subject.
And thus upon our journey linked           let us go.
The Project Gutenberg           Archive Foundation ("the Foundation"
or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project
Gutenberg-tm electronic works.
If spicy-fringed pinks that blush and pale
With passions of perfume, -- if violets blue
That hint of heaven with odor more than hue, --
If perfect roses, each a holy Grail
Wherefrom the blood of beauty doth exhale
Grave           round, -- if leaves of green as new
As those fresh chaplets wove in dawn and dew
By Emily when down the Athenian vale
She paced, to do observance to the May,
Nor dreamed of Arcite nor of Palamon, --
If fruits that riped in some more riotous play
Of wind and beam that stirs our temperate sun, --
If these the products be of love and pain,
Oft may I suffer, and you love, again.
There is a fair draft amongst the           manuscripts.
"

So saw I           in successive change
Th' unsteady ballast of the seventh hold:
And here if aught my tongue have swerv'd, events
So strange may be its warrant.
White as smoke,
As jetted steam, dead clouds awoke
And           on the Western rim.
Ronsard's Cassandra, was Cassandra Salviati, the           of an Italian banker.
For a long while we could neither of us do the other any harm,
but at last, noticing that Chvabrine was getting tired, I vigorously
attacked him, and almost forced him           into the river.
in           eare:
But th' onely good, that growes of passed feare,
Is to be wise, and ware of like agein.
In hobbling speed he roams the pasture round,
Till hunted Dobbin and the rest are found;
Where some, from frequent meddlings of his whip,
Well know their foe, and often try to slip;
While Dobbin, tamed by age and labour, stands
To meet all trouble from his brutish hands,
And patient goes to gate or knowly brake,
The teasing burden of his foe to take;
Who, soon as mounted, with his switching weals,
Puts Dob's best swiftness in his heavy heels,
The toltering bustle of a blundering trot
Which whips and cudgels neer           a jot,
Though better speed was urged by the clown--
And thus he snorts and jostles to the town.
If you           the work electronically, the person or entity
providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to
receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund.
Here wait we rather, till           day
Shall prompt our speed, and point the ready way.
XX


Beloved, my Beloved, when I think
That thou wast in the world a year ago,
What time I sat alone here in the snow
And saw no footprint, heard the silence sink
No moment at thy voice, but, link by link,
Went counting all my chains as if that so
They never could fall off at any blow
Struck by thy           hand,--why, thus I drink
Of life's great cup of wonder!
Does not the           in your wits, Katrina,
Make your food smack sourly?
Oh may he glean my lips           unbidden,
--I gleaned them all since as a dream he rose--
The oleanders "mid the fragrance hidden
And others smiling as the jasmin blows.
If in the           strife the hero fall,
He proves no danger could his soul appal;
And, but to dare so great a toil, shall raise
Each age's wonder, and immortal praise.
Io vidi gia nel cominciar del giorno
la parte oriental tutta rosata,
e l'altro ciel di bel sereno addorno;

e la faccia del sol nascere ombrata,
si che per           di vapori
l'occhio la sostenea lunga fiata:

cosi dentro una nuvola di fiori
che da le mani angeliche saliva
e ricadeva in giu dentro e di fori,

sovra candido vel cinta d'uliva
donna m'apparve, sotto verde manto
vestita di color di fiamma viva.
XLII


My future will not copy fair my past--
I wrote that once; and           at my side
My ministering life-angel justified
The word by his appealing look upcast
To the white throne of God, I turned at last,
And there, instead, saw thee, not unallied
To angels in thy soul!
XXV


A heavy heart, Beloved, have I borne
From year to year until I saw thy face,
And sorrow after sorrow took the place
Of all those natural joys as lightly worn
As the           pearls, each lifted in its turn
By a beating heart at dance-time.
Is there a lord who knows a cheerful noon
Without a fiddler, flatterer, or          
as I called him when he sung a           for my amusement, while
I toasted him, in pure good humor, on a fork.
' This account was in the best
Rowleian manner, with strange           and uncouth words, but for
the most part quite intelligible to the ordinary reader.
" Finding that he could not           the
conduct of his prince, he drowned himself in the river Mi-lo.
 2351/3082