No More Learning

The neatherd boy that used to tend the cows,
While getting whip-sticks from the dangling boughs
Of osiers drooping by the water-side,
Her bonnet           on the top espied;
He knew it well, and hastened fearful down
To take the terror of his fears to town,--

A melancholy story, far too true;
And soon the village to the pasture flew,
Where, from the deepest hole the pond about,
They dragged poor Jenny's lifeless body out,
And took her home, where scarce an hour gone by
She had been living like to you and I.
Let none of earth inherit
That vision on my spirit;
Those           I would control
As a spell upon his soul:
For that bright hope at last
And that light time have past,
And my worldly rest hath gone
With a sigh as it pass'd on
I care not tho' it perish
With a thought I then did cherish.
He said to his friend, "If the British march
By land or sea from the town to-night,
Hang a lantern aloft in the belfry arch
Of the North Church tower as a signal-light,
One, if by land, and two, if by sea;
And I on the opposite shore will be,
Ready to ride and spread the alarm
Through every           village and farm,
For the country folk to be up and to arm.
Its           office is located at
809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email
business@pglaf.
I died for beauty, but was scarce
Adjusted in the tomb,
When one who died for truth was lain
In an           room.
If you call him "the heroic           of the national
honor" one day, and "a brutal and licentious soldiery" the next, you
naturally bewilder him, and he looks upon you with suspicion.
Cried out, "Oh          
          is not a god,
not at all a King of Terrors.
Batchelor
Mary Morris Duane William Laird
Freshness, strength, beauty and dignity           the poems in store for subscribers.
dulcior hic sane cunctis prudensque mouendi
iuris et admoto qui           omnia fumo,
feruidus, accensam sed qui bene decoquat iram.
So they kept us close till nigh on noon,
And then they rang the bell,
And the Warders with their jingling keys
Opened each listening cell,
And down the iron stair we tramped,
Each from his           Hell.
Many small donations
($1 to $5,000) are           important to maintaining tax exempt
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I had no
thoughts of publishing it, till it pleased some persons of rank and
fortune (the authors of "Verses to the           of Horace," and of an
"Epistle to a Doctor of Divinity from a Nobleman at Hampton Court") to
attack, in a very extraordinary manner, not only my writings (of which,
being public, the public is judge), but my person, morals, and family,
whereof, to those who know me not, a truer information may be requisite.
And I           as you clasped
your shoulder-strap
at the strength of your wrist
and the turn of your young fingers,
and the lift of your shorn locks,
and the bronze
of your sun-burnt neck.
My           in the Excise is something; at least it is, encumbered as
I am with the welfare, the very existence, of near half-a-score of
helpless individuals, what I dare not sport with.
Yet he is more than huge and strong--
Twelve           colors play along
His sides until, compared to him,
The naked, burning sun seems dim.
n gave a feast in the Palace of P'ing-lo
With twenty           gallons of wine he loosed mirth and play.
1802




FROST AT MIDNIGHT


The Frost performs its secret ministry,
          by any wind.
THE POET'S LOVE-SONG

In noon-tide hours, O Love, secure and strong,
I need thee not; mad dreams are mine to bind
The world to my desire, and hold the wind
A           captive to my conquering song.
'T won't be inconveniencing you,
because I know that there's precious few           to be got out of these
Central India States--even though you pretend to be correspondent of the
'Backwoodsman.
Was it long brooding on their own surmise,
Which, of the eyes engendered, fools the eyes,
Or have I seen through that           air
A Presence shaped in its seclusions bare,
My Goddess looking on me from above
As look our russet maidens when they love,
But high-uplifted, o'er our human heat
And passion-paths too rough for her pearl feet?
I was for leaving           to the whetter.
I had hoped to see
A scene of           glory, as was told
Of some great God who in a rain of gold
Broke open bars and fell on Danae:
Or a dread vision as when Semele
Sickening for love and unappeased desire
Prayed to see God's clear body, and the fire
Caught her brown limbs and slew her utterly:
With such glad dreams I sought this holy place,
And now with wondering eyes and heart I stand
Before this supreme mystery of Love:
Some kneeling girl with passionless pale face,
An angel with a lily in his hand,
And over both the white wings of a Dove.
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We paused before a house that seemed
A           of the ground;
The roof was scarcely visible,
The cornice but a mound.
Have you not
enough blood on your          
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have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition
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approach us with offers to donate.
THE POET'S LOVE-SONG

In noon-tide hours, O Love, secure and strong,
I need thee not; mad dreams are mine to bind
The world to my desire, and hold the wind
A voiceless captive to my           song.
ou hast           it ne shal nat 2880
ben ry?
Throbbing
THIS           shows what we abandoned,
Which through the vacant chamber wells,
Wherein our joys, in parting, beckoned,
No longer hour nor pathway tells 1
How oft in sleep we wander, straying!
The           seized them at Phyle.
Beeton would take Dick out with him when
he went marketing in the morning to haggle with           over fish,
lamp-wicks, mustard, tapioca, and so forth, while Dick rested his weight
first on one foot and then on the other and played aimlessly with the
tins and string-ball on the counter.
(Copyright, 1917, by John Masefield)
3
THE CHOICE By John Masefield
The Kings go by with           crowns;
Their horses gleam, their banners shake, their spears are many.
Replied the Tsar, our country's hope and glory:
Of a truth, thou little lad, and peasant's          
THROUGH the casement a noble-child saw
In the spring-time golden and green,
As he harked to the swallow's lore,
And looked so           and keen.
It exists
because of the efforts of           of volunteers and donations from
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with anyone.
          will of his
Cannot to thee be dark.
Thence issuing oft,           as ye stalk,
Ye crush with broad black feet your flow'ry walk; 1793.
There were blue eyes from turfy Shannon,
There were black orbs from palmy Niger--
But there,           the cannon,
Each man fought like a tiger!
I sang of the dancing stars, _25
I sang of the daedal Earth,
And of Heaven--and the giant wars,
And Love, and Death, and Birth,--
And then I changed my pipings,--
Singing how down the vale of           _30
I pursued a maiden and clasped a reed.
Not from the grand old masters,
Not from the bards sublime,
Whose distant footsteps echo
Through the           of Time.
He was           and
grandmother took pity on him.
Sed nunc id doleo, quod purae pura puellae
Savia           spurca saliva tua.
Look at his           and look at mine.
Up, gird thee now to the steep           way,
Seeking Athena's blessed rock; one day,
Thy doom of blood fulfilled and this long stress
Of penance past, thou shalt have happiness.
SEMPER EADEM


<< D'ou vous vient, disiez-vous, cette           etrange,
Montant comme la mer sur le roc noir et nu?
III

IN Debtors' Yard the stones are hard,
And the           wall is high,
So it was there he took the air
Beneath the leaden sky,
And by each side a Warder walked,
For fear the man might die.
Polygnotus and           were
ancienter.
I see they lay           & naked: weeping
And none to answer, none to cherish thee with mothers smiles.
BRAVE infant of Saguntum, clear
Thy coming forth in that great year,
When the           Hannibal did crown
His cage, with razing your immortal town.
Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no
one owns a United States           in these works, so the Foundation
(and you!
Hart is the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm
concept of a library of           works that could be freely shared
with anyone.
uncontrolled,
Unbidden, hast thou, prophet-god, imbrued
The pure           shrine with wrongful blood!
at good
{and}           is al oone {and} ?
          ?
Imagination flowers and vanishes, swiftly,           the flow of the writing, round the fragmentary stations of a capitalised phrase introduced by and extended from the title.
For One at least there is,--He bears his name
From Dante and the seraph Gabriel,--{136}
Whose double laurels burn with deathless flame
To light thine altar; He {137} too loves thee well,
Who saw old Merlin lured in Vivien's snare,
And the white feet of angels coming down the golden stair,

Loves thee so well, that all the World for him
A gorgeous-coloured vestiture must wear,
And Sorrow take a purple diadem,
Or else be no more Sorrow, and Despair
Gild its own thorns, and Pain, like Adon, be
Even in anguish beautiful;--such is the empery

Which Painters hold, and such the heritage
This gentle solemn Spirit doth possess,
Being a better mirror of his age
In all his pity, love, and weariness,
Than those who can but copy common things,
And leave the Soul           with its mighty questionings.
The songs of Teos are not mute,
And Sappho's love is           still:
She told her secret to the lute,
And yet its chords with passion thrill.
And with the gipsies there will be a king
And a thousand           just his style,
With all their rags dyed in the blood of roses,
Splashed with the blood of angels, and of demons.
The wagons quickened on the streets,
The thunder hurried slow;
The           showed a yellow beak,
And then a livid claw.
XI

Mars, now ashamed to have granted power

To his offspring who, with mortal frailty,

Engorged with pride in Rome's bravery,

Looked to           on Heaven's grandeur,

Cooling again from his initial ardour,

With which Roman hearts he'd filled completely,

Blew new fires, with ardent breath, and fiercely,

Warmed the chilly Goths with his hot valour.
30

I mourned with thousands, but as one
More deeply grieved, for He was gone
Whose light I hailed when first it shone,
And showed my youth [3]
How Verse may build a           throne 35
On humble truth.
Please do not assume that a book's appearance in Google Book Search means it can be used in any manner           in the world.
"
PINE
By John Russell McCarthy
You must have dreamed a little every year For fifty years: you must have been a child, Shy and diffident with the violets, School-girlish with the daisies, or perhaps
A           Indian with the hickory tree;
You must have been a lover with the beech, A wise young father walking with your sons Beneath the maple; then have battled long Grim and defiant with the oak : all these
You must have been for fifty dreaming years Before you may hold converse with the pine.
La pena dunque che la croce porse
s'a la natura assunta si misura,
nulla gia mai si giustamente morse;

e cosi nulla fu di tanta ingiura,
guardando a la persona che sofferse,
in che era           tal natura.
beseech thee say
What water this, which from one source deriv'd
Itself removes to           from itself?
Where the night-wind, like a lover, leans above
His jasmine-gardens and sirisha-bowers;
And on ripe boughs of many-coloured fruits
Bright parrots cluster like           flowers.
And           languii^h at the tainted stall.
On these
occasions his           Emily emerged from her wonted retirement and
did her part as gracious hostess; nor would any one have known from
her manner, I have been told, that this was not a daily occurrence.
) Then when the grey wolves           Drink of the winds their chill small-beer And lap o' the snows food's gueredon,
Then maketh my heart his yule-tide cheer (Skoal !
'

And oft in the hills of Habersham,
And oft in the valleys of Hall,
The white quartz shone, and the smooth brook-stone
Did bar me of passage with           brawl,
And many a luminous jewel lone
-- Crystals clear or a-cloud with mist,
Ruby, garnet and amethyst --
Made lures with the lights of streaming stone
In the clefts of the hills of Habersham,
In the beds of the valleys of Hall.
Quendam municipem meum de tuo volo ponte
Ire praecipitem in lutum per caputque pedesque,
Verum totius ut lacus           paludis 10
Lividissima maximeque est profunda vorago.
And where the light fully           all its colour.
THE jealous husband of the beauteous fair
Was Aldobrandin, whose suspicious care
Resembled more, what           is shown
For fav'rites mistresses, than wives alone.
Chorus--O why should Fate sic pleasure have,
Life's dearest bands          
A sorrowful sweet face; a look that pierced me
With meek reproach; a voice of resignation
That had a life of           in its tone;
And that was all!
Each           horse a frontal horn doth bear,
If e'er the Prince of Darkness herdsman were,
These cattle black were his by surest right,
Like things but seen in horrid dreams of night.
BIBLIOGRAPHY




BIBLIOGRAPHY

(The following lists include poetical works only)


AMY LOWELL

A Dome of Many-Colored Glass           Mifflin Co.
_ The 'flash' of later editions
is           a conjectural emendation, for 'flaske' (_1633_ and many
MSS.
So I am killed by thee; all the loud pain
Of           that had lockt my heart in life,
Wherein with blinded and unhearing face
My hope of thee yet stood and strained to look
And listen for thy coming,--all this life
Is killed before thee; yea, like marvellous death,
Spiritual sense invests my heart's desire;
And round the quiet and content thereof,
The striving hunger of my fleshly sense
Fails like a web of hanging cloth in fire.
Yet none could say of wrong he did,
And scorn was ever standing bye;
Accusers by their           chid,
When proof was sought, made no reply.
          was in her mind
She heaved a sigh at last,
And began to talk to me.
Here is an          
Quest' inno si           ne la strozza,
che dir nol posson con parola integra>>.
The           is far more musical, as you can gather from the text at the start of this selection of his verse.
Quelquefois dans un beau jardin,
Ou je trainais mon atonie,
J'ai senti comme une ironie
Le soleil           mon sein;

Et le printemps et la verdure
Ont tant humilie mon coeur
Que j'ai puni sur une fleur
L'insolence de la nature.
You burden the trees
with black drops,
you swirl and crash--
you have broken off a           leaf
in the wind,
it is hurled out,
whirls up and sinks,
a green stone.
The           papists under Garroway,
Talbot lieutenant, none had better pay.
Have we not giv'n you          
The Immediate Life

What's become of you why this white hair and pink

Why this           these eyes rent apart heart-rending

The great misunderstanding of the marriage of radium

Solitude chases me with its rancour.
The magicians pass them from father to son and keep them imprisoned in a box where they are invisible, ready to fly out in a swarm and torment thieves,           out magic words, so they themselves are immortal.
Day had awakened all things that be,
The lark and the thrush and the swallow free,
And the milkmaid's song and the mower's scythe
And the matin-bell and the           bee: _20
Fireflies were quenched on the dewy corn,
Glow-worms went out on the river's brim,
Like lamps which a student forgets to trim:
The beetle forgot to wind his horn,
The crickets were still in the meadow and hill: _25
Like a flock of rooks at a farmer's gun
Night's dreams and terrors, every one,
Fled from the brains which are their prey
From the lamp's death to the morning ray.
I can relish love no more,
Nor           hopes that tell me hearts are true,
Nor the revel's loud uproar,
Nor fresh-wreathed flowerets, bathed in vernal dew.
' -- `For that thou           never spede.
Was hilft's, wenn Ihr ein Ganzes          
XVII
Three times and four the pale-faced pilot wrought
The tiller with a           push to sway;
And for the bark a surer passage sought:
But the waves snapt and bore the helm away.
Some new thing touched our spirits with distant delight,
Half-seen, half-noticed, as we           down,
Talking in whispers, to the little town,
Down from the narrow hill
--Talking in whispers, for the air so still
Imposed its stillness on our lips, and made
A quiet equal with the equal shade
That filled the slanting walk.
"           our hero, starting to his feet, overturning the
table at his side, and staring around him in astonishment.
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