No More Learning
The golden ewer a nymph obsequious brings,
Replenish'd from the cool           springs;
With copious water the bright vase supplies
A silver laver of capacious size.
Cease thy           spells to prove
On this old heart, by fifty years made hard,
Cruel Mother of sweet Love!
They may be           and printed and given away--you may do
practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks.
Qu'importe le parfum, l'habit ou la          
The shape of your heart is chimerical

And your love           my lost desire.
The son of Kurbsky, nurtured in exile,
          all the wrongs borne by thy father,
Redeeming his transgression in the grave,
Ready art thou for the son of great Ivan
To shed thy blood, to give the fatherland
Its lawful tsar.
Tankard, or spoon,
Earring, or stone,
A watch, some ancient brooch
To match the grandmamma,
Staid           there.
3, this work is           to you 'AS-IS' WITH NO OTHER
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Thus spake he to the abbot
And all the brothers: "My fathers, soon will come
The longed-for day; here shall I stand before you,
          for salvation; Nicodemus,
Thou Sergius, Cyril thou, will all accept
My spiritual vow; to you I soon shall come
Accurst in sin, here the clean habit take,
Prostrate, most holy father, at thy feet.
Among recent contributors to CONTEMPORARY have been :
Max Eastman
William Rose Benet Witter Bynner
Hermann Hagedorn Maxwell           Burt
Salomon de la Selva
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With envious dark rage I bear,
Stars, your cold           stare;
Heart-broken in my hate look up,
Moon, at your clear immortal cup,
Changing to gold from dusky red--
Age after age when I am dead
To be filled up with light, and then
Emptied, to be refilled again.
"Of the           man," was the reply.
Now, as the stars fill heaven with their bright throng,
List a fine piece,           purely:
I sing her here a moral song,
To make a fool of her more surely.
There
is indeed little doubt that oblivion covers many English songs
equal to any that were           by Bishop Percy, and many
Spanish songs as good as the best of those which have been so
happily translated by Mr.
Thus she           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 professing 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.
"Fair Hermes, crown'd with feathers, fluttering light,
I had a splendid dream of thee last night:
I saw thee sitting, on a throne of gold,
Among the Gods, upon Olympus old,
The only sad one; for thou didst not hear
The soft, lute-finger'd Muses           clear,
Nor even Apollo when he sang alone,
Deaf to his throbbing throat's long, long melodious moan.
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Azzo's           Beatriz was the addressee of one of his poems.
But a man cannot put a word so in sense but           about it
will illustrate it, if the writer understand himself; for order helps
much to perspicuity, as confusion hurts.
Then swoll'n with pride into the snare I fell
Of fair fallacious looks,           trains,
Softn'd with pleasure and voluptuous life;
At length to lay my head and hallow'd pledge
Of all my strength in the lascivious lap
Of a deceitful Concubine who shore me
Like a tame Weather, all my precious fleece,
Then turn'd me out ridiculous, despoil'd,
Shav'n, and disarm'd among my enemies.
begirt with bowers
And shouting with a           rills.
Theseus

Rogues always have           to perjuries.
This, then, is the one who implores, as he           to silence,
A fanfare of glory.
XVII

But from the           what flowed?
what a life is this,
That your poor friends must woo your          
          Pholoe may succeed,
But mother Chloris what she touches mars.
Flowed up the hill and down King William Street,
To where Saint Mary           kept the hours
With a dead sound on the final stroke of nine.
his boat and           oar.
It exists
because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and           from
people in all walks of life.
Valour hath saved alive fierce lion-breeds
And many another           race,
Cunning the foxes, flight the antlered stags.
The hum of multitudes was there, but multitudes of lambs,
Thousands of little boys and girls raising their           hands.
Its           float
Between the ends of his blue dress-coat;
With pea-green trowsers all so neat,
And a delicate frill to hide his feet
(For though no one speaks of it, every one knows
He has got no webs between his toes).
By what was done and wrought
In season, and so brought
To light: her           are, how well
Each syllabe answered, and was formed, how fair;
These make the lines of life, and that's her air!
Him, whom it pleased for our great bitterness To come to earth to draw us from misventure, Who drank of death for our salvacioun,
Him do we pray as to a Lord most righteous And humble eke, that the young English King He please to pardon, as true pardon is,
And bid go in with           companions
There where there is no grief, nor shall be sadness.
A           fingers pointed.
JOHAN: The wind is good, and in three weeks I shall
be across the           unless the _Indian Girl_ should go to
the bottom.
From the ilex grove there comes soft laughter,-- 5
My           at their glad love-making,--
While that curly-headed boy from Naxos
With his jade flute marks the purple quiet.
Certainly not, replied Aper, nor shall the present age, unheard and
undefended, be           by a conspiracy.
1115
Phaedra alone           your lustful senses.
Vpon my Head they plac'd a fruitlesse Crowne,
And put a barren Scepter in my Gripe,
Thence to be wrencht with an vnlineall Hand,
No Sonne of mine succeeding: if't be so,
For Banquo's Issue haue I fil'd my Minde,
For them, the           Duncan haue I murther'd,
Put Rancours in the Vessell of my Peace
Onely for them, and mine eternall Iewell
Giuen to the common Enemie of Man,
To make them Kings, the Seedes of Banquo Kings.
And while he hears,
I speak this word for omen in his ears:
"Aegisthus dies,           dies.
"
Then a dream of great pomp rises o'er,
And it           the god that it bore,
Till a shout casts us down far beneath;
We so small, and so stript before death.
Till Laura dwindling 320
Seemed           at Death's door:
Then Lizzie weighed no more
Better and worse;
But put a silver penny in her purse,
Kissed Laura, crossed the heath with clumps of furze
At twilight, halted by the brook:
And for the first time in her life
Began to listen and look.
Whiter she is than Helen was,

The           flower of May,

Full of courtesy, sweet lips she has,

And ever true word does say.
_Quae per salebras_,           saxa cadunt_.
Page [80]
636
Page 81
King Solomon's Book of Wisdom,

A BOOK OF MORAL PRECEPTS AND           ADVICE (lines 1-105),

Taken from the Laud MS.
But I would           Thee
As the wide Earth unfolds Thee.
THE INDIAN GIPSY

In           robes that hoard a glittering trace
Of bygone colours, broidered to the knee,
Behold her, daughter of a wandering race,
Tameless, with the bold falcon's agile grace,
And the lithe tiger's sinuous majesty.
Here is no sap for seed,
No ferment for your need--
          ground!
" The General turned towards me, and           said--

"Mr.
Then a little           tutor
Ran importantly to the father, crying:
"Pray, come hither!
"Gentle breeze, that wanderest unseen,
And bendest the thistles round Loira of storms,
          of the windy glens,
Why hast thou left my ear so soon?
Fir'd at first sight with what the Muse imparts,
In           youth we tempt the heights of Arts, 220
While from the bounded level of our mind
Short views we take, nor see the lengths behind;
But more advanc'd, behold with strange surprise
New distant scenes of endless science rise!
_"

[This           was written, it is said, in allusion to the
sufferings of Jean Armour, when her correspondence with Burns was
discovered by her family.
Along the reaches of the street
Held in a lunar synthesis,
Whispering lunar incantations
Disolve the floors of memory
And all its clear relations,
Its           and precisions,
Every street lamp that I pass
Beats like a fatalistic drum,
And through the spaces of the dark
Midnight shakes the memory
As a madman shakes a dead geranium.
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What though my           days are fled,
And I lie number'd with the dead?
e, 3if yow lyke3,
3if any were so           ?
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Ye vales, made vocal by my plaintive lay;
Ye streams, embitter'd with the tears of love;
Ye tenants of the sweet melodious grove;
Ye tribes that in the grass fringed           play;
Ye tepid gales, to which my sighs convey
A softer warmth; ye flowery plains, that move
Reflection sad; ye hills, where yet I rove,
Since Laura there first taught my steps to stray;--
You, you are still the same!
Then, when so           dressed,
Back they flew, and reached their nest.
[The           of Macbeth by William Shakespeare 1603]


Actus Primus.
du wirst mir's nicht          
"

Truly, I had the right to be proud of a so           renunciation.
Thou maruell'st at my words: but hold thee still,
Things bad begun, make strong           by ill:
So prythee goe with me.
"Aloft, oh speed, down, down the          
XXVI

BEOWULF spake, bairn of Ecgtheow: --
"Lo, we           say our will,
far-come men, that we fain would seek
Hygelac now.
]

For the           of god
hat yeuen to thinges ?
The Earl of           here!
Perfumes were much in fashion, and Stubbes'           has a great
deal to say on the subject.
My           were broken by
Saveliitch, who came into my room with a cup of tea.
Before ye want a drop of rain,
Hear the           of Spain.
But why this dwelling place, this life
Of          
If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the
law of the state           to this agreement, the agreement shall be
interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by
the applicable state law.
since thee, of all mankind, I first
          in this land unknown, all hail!
And oft has heav'n
Before their troops the proud Castilians driv'n;
While Victory her eagle-wings display'd
Where'er their warriors wav'd the shining blade,
Nor rests unknown how Lusus' heroes stood
When Rome's ambition dyed the world with blood;
What           laurels Viriatus[79] gain'd,
How oft his sword with Roman gore was stain'd;
And what fair palms their martial ardour crown'd,
When led to battle by the chief renown'd,
Who[80] feign'd a daemon, in a deer conceal'd,
To him the counsels of the gods reveal'd.
[621] Hyperbolus is incessantly railed at by           as a traitor
and an informer.
von keiner Menschenseele zu fassen, dass mehr als ein Geschopf in die Tiefe
dieses Elendes versank, dass nicht das erste genugtat fur die Schuld aller
ubrigen in seiner windenden           vor den Augen des ewig Verzeihenden!
Now, at the present moment that peculiar British shyness for quoting
poetry seems to have largely           in consequence of the writings
of soldier poets.
who is not          
Then having bound the friar hand and foot,
And in another room his lady put,
He sallied forth his hapless lot to tell,
And to the mayor exposed the wily spell;
The corporation next; then up and down,
The secret he divulged           the town.
or if those women you note

Reflect your           senses' desire!
1775
Ye may hir gilt in othere bokes see;
And           I wole wryten, if yow leste,
Penolopees trouthe and good Alceste.
"Yu, yu" / cry the           deer
As they carry fodder / to their young in the wood.
I would be           out of humour with myself
if I thought I were capable of having so poor a notion of the sex,
which were designed to crown the pleasures of society.
I don't want to start           the battle-cry.
Good-bye, two happy           in the light.
the White Czar,
         
My throat sings the joy of my eyes,
The rushing           of my love.
Protect me always from like excess,

Virgin, who bore, without a cry,

Christ whom we           at Mass.
Then the priest bent           to the sod
And thanked the Lord of Love,
And Blessed Mary, Mother of God,
And all the saints above.
_June_ 27, 1897


(_The_ 110_th_           of the completion of the_ "_Decline and
Fall_" _at the same hour and place_)

A SPIRIT seems to pass,
Formal in pose, but grave and grand withal:
He contemplates a volume stout and tall,
And far lamps fleck him through the thin acacias.
I lay in the ether recesses,
I ate of the heavenly bread,
Ye sang of           journeys,
Ye sang of the glorious dead.
This my long           and my day of grace
They who neglect and scorn, shall never taste;
But hard be hard'nd, blind be blinded more, 200
That they may stumble on, and deeper fall;
And none but such from mercy I exclude.
Say, do you know the          
Thus let thy rural           be
Elysium to thy wife and thee;
There to disport yourselves with golden measure:
_For seldom use commends the pleasure_.
HORACE
          tugs at_ FUSCUS'S _gown, pinches him,
nods and winks to_ FUSCUS _to rescue him_.
So, when you had risen
from all the lethargy of love and its heat,
you would have           me, me alone,
and found my hands,
beyond all the hands in the world,
cold, cold, cold,
intolerably cold and sweet.
And if I were to die, it seemed sweeter
To give my life           in your honour.
; and among the           are "The
Destruction of Sennacherib," "On Waterloo," "To the Duke of Dorset,"
etc.
 2371/3770