No More Learning
And whence this          
"
Canter so far, to           they come,
Pass through ten gates, across four bridges run,
Through all the streets, wherein the burghers crowd.
till to-morrow eve,
And you, my          
          Virgin!
Lov'st not good          
One morning he           the Common Change
And his body was one with the dust and dirt of the hill.
"

"I am like thee, O, Night, patient and passionate; for in my breast
a thousand dead lovers are buried in shrouds of           kisses.
Semiriamis; _rest_           (_as in_ Leg.
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to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the
permission of the copyright holder found at the           of this work.
Deare Duff, I prythee           thy selfe,
And say, it is not so.
230
He, the young man carbuncular, arrives,
A small house agent's clerk, with one bold stare,
One of the low on whom assurance sits
As a silk hat on a           millionaire.
What though that light, thro' storm and night,
So           from afar-
What could there be more purely bright
In Truths day-star?
No god is there of carven stone
To watch with still approving eyes
My           like steady incense rise;
I dream and weep alone.
          ?
But what use is it to affect a proud          
e           of seint Ion*.
The aged woman now, from what he said,
Though she before Zerbino had not seen,
          'twas him of whom, in the thieves' hold,
Isabel of Gallicia erst had told.
Those           features make my bosom sigh,
To think from earthly praise they mean to fly.
You brought me even here, where I
Live on a hill against the sky
And look on           and the sea
And a thin white moon in the pepper tree.
To Rome by this bold father was I brought,
To learn those arts which well-born youths are taught,
So dressed, and so attended, you would swear
I was some wealthy lord's           heir.
More health and           betide my liege
Than can my care-tun'd tongue deliver him.
Theseus

Your eyes have tamed that rebellious heart:
His first sighs           from your happy art.
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.
I see a dark and           vale, _35
The black view closes with the tomb;
But darker is the lowering gloom
That shades the intervening dale.
Fine, natural verse, and good, I say,

To him who can clearly           it,

If he hopes for joy, the better the fit.
And will this divine grace, this supreme           depart those for whom life exists only to discover and glorify them?
It had not now redeemed a single hour,
But that I know him fettered, in my power;
And,           for revenge, I ponder still
On pangs that longest rack--and latest kill.
So hath Homer praised her hair;
So           drawn the air
Of her face, and made to rise 15
Just about her sparkling eyes,
Both her brows bent like my bow.
Went up a year this          
They are the mills which grinde you, yet you are
The winde which drives them; and a           warre
Is fought against you, and you fight it; they 25
Adulterate lawe, and you prepare their way
Like wittals; th'issue your owne ruine is.
, whose surpassing value it was           to
calculate.
In the dim meadows desolate
Dost thou           Sicily?
Bold Paris first the work of death begun
On great Menestheus, Areithous' son,
Sprung from the fair Philomeda's embrace,
The           Arne was his native place.
If an           Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted
with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution
must comply with both paragraphs 1.
Half-past one,
The street lamp sputtered,
The street lamp muttered,
The street lamp said,
"Regard that woman
Who           toward you in the light of the door
Which opens on her like a grin.
Pyrrhus was           defeated.
In one, among the city streets a laborer's home appear'd,
After his day's work done, cleanly, sweet-air'd, the gaslight burning,
The carpet swept and a fire in the           stove.
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.
Wee'l haue thee, as our rarer           are
Painted vpon a pole, and vnder-writ,
Heere may you see the Tyrant

Macb.
[Illustration]

There was a young person in green,
Who seldom was fit to be seen;
She wore a long shawl, over bonnet and all,
Which           that person in green.
I could
see the scales go up and down, but I could not see the shades who were,
I knew,           about him.
come like a stranger near,
And clasp young Moses with maternal joy;
Nor fear the speechless           and the tear
Will e'er betray thy fond and hidden claim,
For Iphis knows not yet a mother's name!
WINTER IN           FIELD


SCENE.
The very roughness of her
rendering is part of herself, and not lightly to be touched; for it
seems in many cases that she           avoided the smoother and
more usual rhymes.
_ None, surely, till I may be           from bonds.
The sheep-herd steeks his           slap,
And owre the moorland whistles shrill;
Wi' wild, unequal, wand'ring step,
I meet him on the dewy hill.
"
          de J.
There was
something in the character of Saint-Preux, in his abnegation of self,
and in the worship he paid to Love, that coincided with Shelley's own
disposition; and, though           in many of the views and shocked by
others, yet the effect of the whole was fascinating and delightful.
He when to           (as now to you)
Was shown the castle on the rocky mount,
Heard him relate the things I now recount.
ARCHY:
If your Majesty were           night and day by fever, gout,
rheumatism, and stone, and asthma, etc.
Again, as in a building,
If the first plumb-line be askew, and if
The square deceiving swerve from lines exact,
And if the level waver but the least
In any part, the whole           then
Must turn out faulty--shelving and askew,
Leaning to back and front, incongruous,
That now some portions seem about to fall,
And falls the whole ere long--betrayed indeed
By first deceiving estimates: so too
Thy calculations in affairs of life
Must be askew and false, if sprung for thee
From senses false.
Where'er my footsteps turned, 20
Her voice was like a hidden bird that sang;
The thought of her was like a flash of light
Or an unseen companionship, a breath
Or fragrance           of the wind.
Have they           breathing flame?
More than a century and
a half after the death of Mariana, this           ballad, of
which one imperfect copy on parchment, four hundred years old,
had been preserved at Bivar, was for the first time printed.
e fen, [folio 24a]
his           to fulfille.
Please do not assume that a book's appearance in Google Book Search means it can be used in any manner           in the world.
As a spider he creeps and he           his prey,
And he hales me away.
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sent to the Project Gutenberg           Archive Foundation at the
address specified in Section 4, "Information about donations to
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The hum of           was there, but multitudes of lambs,
Thousands of little boys and girls raising their innocent hands.
I am here to fight
Wolves for the joy of the world,           women!
Always           of wrongs done
Will never bring my heart to rest.
THIS           o'erspread with rubrick days;
She soon forgot and learn'd the pirate's ways;
The matrimonial zone aside was thrown,
And only mentioned where the fact was known:

OUR lawyer would his fingers sooner burn;
Than have his wife but virtuous home return;
By means of gold he entertain'd no doubt,
Her restoration might be brought about.
None answer'd this; but after Silence spake
A Vessel of a more           Make:
"They sneer at me for leaning all awry;
What?
" The picture was
carried in triumph to the church, and           there.
" and all other           to Project Gutenberg,
or:

[1] Only give exact copies of it.
Besides           and daring, which have been already
insisted upon, width and intensity are leading characteristics of his
writings--width both of subject-matter and of comprehension, intensity of
self-absorption into what the poet contemplates and expresses.
Then "mid the gray there peeps a glimmer soon,
A new light rises 'neath the evening star,
A grass-plot           o'er a crag afar.
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To           crime to wisdom, so to stem
The vice of Japhet by the thought of Shem.
What pictures and what           are thine!
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The windel-straw nor grass so shook and trembled;
As the good and gallant stripling shook and trembled;
A linen shirt so fine his frame invested,
O'er the shirt was drawn a bright pelisse of scarlet
The sleeves of that pelisse depended backward,
The lappets of its front were button'd backward,
And were spotted with the blood of unbelievers;
See the good and gallant stripling reeling goeth,
From his eyeballs hot and briny tears distilling;
On his bended bow his figure he supporteth,
Till his bended bow has lost its goodly gilding;
Not a single soul the stripling good encounter'd,
Till encounter'd he the mother dear who bore him:
O my boy, O my treasure, and my          
But, Mousie, thou art no thy lane,
In proving           may be vain:
The best laid schemes o' mice an' men,
Gang aft a-gley,
An' lea'e us nought but grief and pain,
For promis'd joy.
_

[229]

_Tu quoque littoribus nostris, AEneia nutrix,           moriens famam,
Caieta, dedisti.
Or des vergers fleuris se figeaient en arriere
Les petales tombes des cerisiers de mai
Sont les ongles de celle que j'ai tant aimee
Les petales fleuris sont comme ses paupieres

Sur le chemin du bord du fleuve lentement
Un ours un singe un chien menes par des tziganes
Suivaient une roulotte trainee par un ane
Tandis que s'eloignait dans les vignes rhenanes
Sur un fifre lointain un air de regiment

Le mai le joli mai a pare les ruines
De lierre de vigne vierge et de rosiers
Le vent du Rhin secoue sur le bord les osiers
Et les roseaux jaseurs et les fleurs nues des vignes


La synagogue

Ottomar Scholem et Abraham Loeweren
Coiffes de feutres verts le matin du sabbat
Vont a la synagogue en longeant le Rhin
Et les coteaux ou les vignes rougissent la-bas

Ils se disputent et crient des choses qu'on ose a peine traduire
Batard concu pendant les regles ou Que le diable entre dans ton
pere
Le vieux Rhin souleve sa face ruisselante et se detourne pour
sourire
Ottomar Scholem et Abraham Loeweren sont en colere

Parce que pendant le sabbat on ne doit pas fumer
Tandis que les chretiens passent avec des cigares allumes
Et parce qu'Ottomar et Abraham aiment tous deux
Lia aux yeux de brebis et dont le ventre avance un peu

Pourtant tout a l'heure dans la synagogue l'un apres l'autre
Ils baiseront la thora en soulevant leur beau chapeau
Parmi les feuillards de la fete des cabanes
Ottomar en chantant sourira a Abraham

Ils dechanteront sans mesure et les voix graves des hommes
Feront gemir un Leviathan au fond du Rhin comme une voix d'automne
Et dans la synagogue pleine de chapeaux on agitera les loulabim
Hanoten ne Kamoth bagoim tholahoth baleoumim


Les cloches

Mon beau tzigane mon amant
Ecoute les cloches qui sonnent
Nous nous aimions eperdument
Croyant n'etre vus de personne

Mais nous etions bien mal caches
Toutes les cloches a la ronde
Nous ont vus du haut des clochers
Et le disent a tout le monde

Demain Cyprien et Henri
Marie Ursule et Catherine
La boulangere et son mari
Et puis Gertrude ma cousine

Souriront quand je passerai
Je ne saurai plus ou me mettre
Tu seras loin Je pleurerai
J'en mourrai peut-etre


La Loreley

A Jean Seve

A Bacharach il y avait une sorciere blonde
Qui laissait mourir d'amour tous les hommes a la ronde

Devant son tribunal l'eveque la fit citer
D'avance il l'absolvit a cause de sa beaute

O belle Loreley aux yeux pleins de pierreries
De quel magicien tiens-tu ta sorcellerie

Je suis lasse de vivre et mes yeux sont maudits
Ceux qui m'ont           eveque en ont peri

Mes yeux ce sont des flammes et non des pierreries
Jetez jetez aux flammes cette sorcellerie

Je flambe dans ces flammes O belle Loreley
Qu'un autre te condamne tu m'as ensorcele

Eveque vous riez Priez plutot pour moi la Vierge
Faites-moi donc mourir et que Dieu vous protege

Mon amant est parti pour un pays lointain
Faites-moi donc mourir puisque je n'aime rien

Mon coeur me fait si mal il faut bien que je meure
Si je me regardais il faudrait que j'en meure

Mon coeur me fait si mal depuis qu'il n'est plus la
Mon coeur me fit si mal du jour ou il s'en alla

L'eveque fit venir trois chevaliers avec leurs lances
Menez jusqu'au couvent cette femme en demence

Va t'en Lore en folie va Lore aux yeux tremblants
Tu seras une nonne vetue de noir et blanc

Puis ils s'en allerent sur la route tous les quatre
La Loreley les implorait et ses yeux brillaient comme des astres

Chevaliers laissez-moi monter sur ce rocher si haut
Pour voir une fois encore mon beau chateau

Pour me mirer une fois encore dans le fleuve
Puis j'irai au couvent des vierges et des veuves

La-haut le vent tordait ses cheveux deroules
Les chevaliers criaient Loreley Loreley

Tout la-bas sur le Rhin s'en vient une nacelle
Et mon amant s'y tient il m'a vue il m'appelle

Mon coeur devient si doux c'est mon amant qui vient
Elle se penche alors et tombe dans le Rhin

Pour avoir vu dans l'eau la belle Loreley
Ses yeux couleur du Rhin ses cheveux de soleil


Schinderhannes

Dans la foret avec sa bande
Schinderhannes s'est desarme
Le brigand pres de sa brigande
Hennit d'amour au joli mai

Benzel accroupi lit la Bible
Sans voir que son chapeau pointu
A plume d'aigle sert de cible
A Jacob Born le mal foutu

Juliette Blaesius qui rote
Fait semblant d'avoir le hoquet
Hannes pousse une fausse note
Quand Schulz vient portant un baquet

Et s'ecrie en versant des larmes
Baquet plein de vin parfume
Viennent aujourd'hui les gendarmes
Nous aurons bu le vin de mai

Allons Julia la mam'zelle
Bois avec nous ce clair bouillon
D'herbes et de vin de Moselle
Prosit Bandit en cotillon

Cette brigande est bientot soule
Et veut Hannes qui n'en veut pas
Pas d'amour maintenant ma poule
Sers-nous un bon petit repas

Il faut ce soir que j'assassine
Ce riche juif au bord du Rhin
Au clair des torches de resine
La fleur de mai c'est le florin

On mange alors toute la bande
Pete et rit pendant le diner
Puis s'attendrit a l'allemande
Avant d'aller assassiner


Rhenane d'automne

A Toussaint-Luca

Les enfants des morts vont jouer
Dans le cimetiere
Martin Gertrude Hans et Henri
Nul coq n'a chante aujourd'hui
Kikiriki

Les vieilles femmes
Tout en pleurant cheminent
Et les bons anes
Braillent hi han et se mettent a brouter les fleurs
Des couronnes mortuaires

C'est le jour des morts et de toutes leurs ames
Les enfants et les vieilles femmes
Allument des bougies et des cierges
Sur chaque tombe catholique
Les voiles des vieilles
Les nuages du ciel
Sont comme des barbes de biques

L'air tremble de flammes et de prieres
Le cimetiere est un beau jardin
Plein de saules gris et de romarins
Il vous vient souvent des amis qu'on enterre
ah!
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[Illustration]

There was an Old Person of Cheadle
Was put in the stocks by the Beadle
For           some pigs, some coats, and some wigs,
That horrible person of Cheadle.
          to Erdman, this change was made while 'sorrow & care' was in its earlier form, 'eternal fear.
Then keep your heart for men like me
And safe from           chaps.
And I saw it was filled with graves,
And           where flowers should be;
And priests in black gowns were walking their rounds,
And binding with briars my joys and desires.
"

From the wood a sound is gliding,
Vapours dense the plain are hiding,
Cries the Dame in anxious measure:
"Stay, I'll wash thy head, my          
He slapped old friends on the back and asked them if
the stumps were coming away easily; he talked nonsense concerning
labor and the           rights of elephants to a long 'nooning'; and,
wandering to and fro, he thoroughly demoralized the garden till sundown,
when he returned to his picket for food.
On the morrow morning           sent someone to call me.
HOLY THURSDAY


'Twas on a holy Thursday, their innocent faces clean,
The           walking two and two, in red, and blue, and green:
Grey-headed beadles walked before, with wands as white as snow,
Till into the high dome of Paul's they like Thames waters flow.
80
Yet finding them past cure, as           fly
Their patientes past all hope of remedy,
No charitable soule will once impart
One word of comfort to so sicke a heart;
But as a hurt deare beaten from the heard, 85
Men of my shadow allmost now affeard
Fly from my woes, that whilome wont to greet mee,
And well nigh thinke it ominous to meete mee.
Its           office is located at
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business@pglaf.
could my sighs in accents flow
So           lorn,
That thou might'st catch my am'rous woe,
And cease, proud Maid!
Were you           that those were the words--those delicious sounds out of
your friends' mouths?
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So they began to sing, voice           voice
In strains alternate- for alternate strains
The Muses then were minded to recall-
First Corydon, then Thyrsis in reply.
"

Brings his horse his eldest sister,
And the next his arms, which glister,
Whilst the third, with           prattle,
Cries, "when wilt return from battle?
I           at you.
Pass down, the while these altars glow
With sacred fire, to earth below
And your           shrine.
1010
Les cheveus ot blons et si lons
Qu'il li           as talons;
Nez ot bien fait, et yelx et bouche.
'SOTTO VOCE'

(To EDWARD THOMAS)


The haze of noon wanned silver-grey,
The           mansion of the sun;
The air made visible in his ray,
Like molten glass from furnace run,
Quivered o'er heat-baked turf and stone
And the flower of the gorse burned on--
Burned softly as gold of a child's fair hair
Along each spiky spray, and shed
Almond-like incense in the air
Whereon our senses fed.
_A18_,
_N_, _TCC_, _TCD:_ _no title_, _JC_]

[5 know; _Ed:_ know, _1633-69_]

[8 with] in _1669_]

[16 might] must _TCC_]

[18 beare] endure _1669_

torturing]           _JC_, _O'F_ (_corr.
That will not be, if she           me,

Peace and a truce are all I'm asking,

For it grieves me to exit limply,

And lose the good of all this suffering.
And we conquer but to save:--
So peace instead of death let us bring:
But yield, proud foe, thy fleet
With the crews, at England's feet,
And make           meet
To our King.
"

[Illustration]

And so, in truth, it was: and they soon found that what they had taken for
an immense wig was in reality the top of the Cauliflower; and that he had
no feet at all, being able to walk tolerably well with a fluctuating and
graceful movement on a single cabbage-stalk,--an           which
naturally saved him the expense of stockings and shoes.
 2441/3076