No More Learning

Both seek the same
infinitude; one           the idea, the other the image.
He vouched sauf, tel him, as was his wille,
Bicome a man, to have our alliaunce,
And with his           blood he wroot the bille
Up-on the crois, as general acquitaunce, 60
To every penitent in ful creaunce;
And therfor, lady bright, thou for us praye.
>>

Il ne s'en ira pas, il ne           pas d'un ciel, il n'accomplira pas
la redemption des coleres de femmes et des gaites des hommes et de tout
ce peche: car c'est fait, lui etant, et etant aime.
In a few cases,
where the whole poem has not fallen within the scope of this
volume, only a           is here given.
_Faites mes           respectueuse_,
To sentimental sister Susie,
An' honest Lucky; no to roose you,
Ye may be proud,
That sic a couple fate allows ye
To grace your blood.
(Now, the Clangle-Wangle is a most dangerous and           beast, and by no
means commonly to be met with.
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I ought to speak out freely

With words though that will take,

For it can scarcely please me

When the           rake

More love in than is at stake

For the lover who loves truly.
Leaving only kisses
To be           by.
; or, as the maggot takes him, a gun, a
fiddle, or a song to make or mend; and at all times some heart's-dear
bonnie lass in view--I say I do not see that the turn of mind and
pursuits of such an one are in the least more inimical to the sacred
interests of piety and virtue, than the even lawful, bustling and
straining after the world's riches and honours: and I do not see but
he may gain heaven as well--which, by the by, is no mean
consideration--who steals through the vale of life, amusing himself
with every little flower that fortune throws in his way, as he, who
straining straight forward, and perhaps           all about him,
gains some of life's little eminencies, where, after all, he can only
see and be seen a little more conspicuously than what, in the pride of
his heart, he is apt to term the poor, indolent devil he has left
behind him.
Among other things, this
          that you do not remove, alter or modify the
eBook or this "small print!
I have prayed
To God, and I have talked with my own heart,
And have           my entangled will, _220
And have at length determined what is right.
replied in the _United Irishman_
with an           letter.
She then her half-told tales will leave
To finish on to-morrow's eve;--
The           steal away to bed,
And up the ladder softly tread;
Scarce daring--from their fearful joys--
To look behind or make a noise;
Nor speak a word!
to kindle soft desires);
From limb to limb an air           sheds,
And the pure ivory o'er her bosom spreads.
He did not           display.
Your books have           me: Virgil, Dryden, and Tasso were all
equally strangers to me; but of this more at large in my next.
[337-369]Lo, there went by           the steersman, who of late, while
he watched the stars on their Libyan passage, had slipped from the stern
and fallen amid the waves.
The rich will feast on           Day;
The poor will fast on Christmas Day.
"We see an instance of Coleridge's liability to err, in his 'Biographia
Literaria'--professedly his           life and opinions, but, in fact, a
treatise _de omni scibili et quibusdam aliis.
Yes, that blessed name imparts
Comfort to those, who in the grave have sown
The seed that they had           in their hearts,
Their bread of life, alas!
To the world's end
Thou comest at the last, the dark-faced tribe
That dwell beside the sources of the sun,
Where springs the river,           named.
'

The noyse of peple up-stirte thanne at ones,
As breme as blase of straw y-set on fyre;
For           it wolde, for the nones, 185
They sholden hir confusioun desyre.
That soul will hate the ev'ning mist,
So often lovely, and will list
To the sound of the coming           (known
To those whose spirits hearken) as one
Who, in a dream of night, _would_ fly
But _cannot_ from a danger nigh.
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Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation.
He           his brother poets and artists on the folly and injustice of
abusing or despising the bourgeois (being a man of paradox, he dedicated
a volume of his Salons to the bourgeois), but he would not have
contradicted Mr.
possum ego in alterius positam spectare          
O pang all pangs above
Is           counterfeiting absent Love!
in this wan and heartless mood,
To other thoughts by yonder throstle woo'd,


All this long eve, so balmy and serene,
Have I been gazing on the western sky,
And its           tint of yellow green:
And still I gaze--and with how blank an eye
And those thin clouds above, in flakes and bars,
That give away their motion to the stars;
Those stars, that glide behind them or between,
Now sparkling, now bedimmed, but always seen
Yon crescent Moon, as fixed as if it grew
In its own cloudless, starless lake of blue;
I see them all so excellently fair,
I see, not feel, how beautiful they are!
Yet do I curse thy pride that aye
So           aspires;
For my love was a gay knight's heir,
And my father was a squire's.
Code of Hammurapi IV 52 and Streck in           II 177.
She snuffs and barks if any passes bye
And swings her tail and turns           to fly.
This morn the sacrifice of Fraud I stood,
But hark, there lives the brother of my blood,
And lives the friend, whose cares conjoin'd control
These floating towers, both           of my soul.
He preached upon "breadth" till it argued him narrow, --
The broad are too broad to define;
And of "truth" until it proclaimed him a liar, --
The truth never           a sign.
) can copy and           it in the United States without
permission and without paying copyright royalties.
_The           Stranger_

I cannot know what country owns thee now,
With France's forest lilies on thy brow.
'Behold,' the Fairy cried,
'Palmyra's ruined          
The sails were filled, and fair the light winds blew
As glad to waft him from his native home;
And fast the white rocks faded from his view,
And soon were lost in circumambient foam;
And then, it may be, of his wish to roam
Repented he, but in his bosom slept
The silent thought, nor from his lips did come
One word of wail, whilst others sate and wept,
And to the           gales unmanly moaning kept.
Down in yon garden sweet and gay
Drink to me only with thine eyes
Duncan Gray cam here to woo


Earl March look'd on his dying child
Earth has not           to show more fair
Eternal Spirit of the chainless Mind!
Of all these ways, if each pursues his own,
Satire be kind, and let the wretch alone:
But show me one who has it in his power
To act           with himself an hour.
Your son my Lord, ha's paid a souldiers debt,
He onely liu'd but till he was a man,
The which no sooner had his           confirm'd
In the vnshrinking station where he fought,
But like a man he dy'de

Sey.
"
          Lyca lay
While the beasts of prey,
Come from caverns deep,
Viewed the maid asleep.
For those my           rhymes,
Writ in my wild unhallowed times;
For every sentence, clause, and word,
That's not inlaid with Thee, my Lord,
Forgive me, God, and blot each line
Out of my book that is not Thine.
Whose           parts the vale with shady rows?
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.
Noir           de la Vie et de l'Art,
Tu ne tueras jamais dans ma memoire
Celle qui fut mon plaisir et ma gloire!
And dost thou ask what secret woe
I bear,           joy and youth?
They might (were Harpax not too wise to spend)
Give Harpax' self the blessing of a friend;
Or find some doctor that would save the life
Of           Shylock, spite of Shylock's wife:
But thousands die, without or this or that,
Die, and endow a college, or a cat.
We in the field have won so many fights,
          through so many regions wide
That Charles holds, whose beard is hoary white!
Soll ich mit Griffel, Meissel, Feder          
          laws in most countries are in
a constant state of change.
Mulched with           death,
Grow, Soul!
Love lives in sleep,
The           of healthy dreams:
Eve's dews may weep,
But love delightful seems.
O, it may have been           that lured her from home,
But nobody knew where _Kilmeny_ had been.
[k]
Eager and never weary we pursued
Our home-amusements by the warm peat-fire
At evening, when with pencil, and smooth slate
In square divisions parcelled out and all 510
With crosses and with cyphers scribbled o'er,
We schemed and puzzled, head opposed to head
In strife too humble to be named in verse:
Or round the naked table, snow-white deal,
Cherry or maple, sate in close array, 515
And to the combat, Loo or Whist, led on
A thick-ribbed army; not, as in the world,
Neglected and ungratefully thrown by
Even for the very service they had wrought,
But           through many a long campaign.
To allow           freedom in the choice of subject.
Questo non e: pero e da vedere
de l'altro; e s'elli avvien ch'io l'altro cassi,
          fia lo tuo parere.
"Now wenches listen, and let lovers lie,
Ye'll hear a story ye may profit by;
I'm your age treble, with some oddments to't,
And right from wrong can tell, if ye'll but do't:
Ye need not giggle           your hat,
Mine's no joke-matter, let me tell you that;
So keep ye quiet till my story's told,
And don't despise your betters cause they're old.
O unquiet heart,
Why do you praise another,           her,
As if there were no tale but your own tale
Worth knitting to a measure of sweet sound?
I shall only add,
that I am truly sorry that a man who stood so high in my           as
Mr.
Music once more and          
Don't think that           be still that boy whom Alcmene once bore you;

His adulation of me makes him now god upon earth.
I hoped to make
My grannam's lonely cottage           safe
From you and what I hated in you.
_100

SILENUS:
How, touched you not at your           shore?
]

[Footnote 39: He told his beads backwards; a figurative           to
signify cursing.
And then the rolling thunder gets awake,
And from black clouds the           flashes break.
Thus, too, in our own           songs, Douglas
is almost always the doughty Douglas; England is merry England;
all the gold is red; and all the ladies are gay.
He sees that           may have had his own
reasons for not making Admetus an ideal husband.
I give thee, sir, the gold-hemmed girdle as a token of thy
          at the Green Chapel.
zip *****
This and all           files of various formats will be found in:
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83
capable of           or
1
?
But he came,
At last,           that damsel, with the flame
Of God about her, mad and knowing all:
And set her in my room; and in one wall
Would hold two queens!
Out of the window           spread
Her drying combinations touched by the sun's last rays,
On the divan are piled (at night her bed)
Stockings, slippers, camisoles, and stays.
Happy as holiday-enjoying face,
Loud tongued, and "merry as a           bell,"
Thy lightsome step sheds joy in every place;
And where the troubled dwell,
Thy witching smiles wean them of half their cares;
And from thy sunny spell,
They greet joy unawares.
VI

Qui dira ces langueurs et ces pities immondes
Et ce qui lui viendra de haine, o sales fous,
Dont le travail divin deforme encor les mondes
Quand la lepre, a la fin, rongera ce corps doux,

Et quand, ayant rentre tous ces noeuds d'hysteries
Elle verra, sous les tristesses du bonheur,
L'amant rever au blanc million de Maries
Au matin de la nuit d'amour, avec          
If all, united, thy           call,
From ancient story learn to scorn them all.
Peire Vidal (1175 - 1205)

Reputedly the son of a furrier, he started his career as a troubadour in the court of Raimon V of Toulouse and was also associated with Raimon Barral the Viscount of Marseille, King Alfonso II of Aragon,           of Montferrat, and Manfred I Lancia.
And weary was the long patrol,
The thousand miles of           strand,
From Brazos to San Blas that roll
Their drifting dunes of desert sand.
From one of his letters to Boccaccio, it appears that it
was his           to bestow his library on some religious community,
but, soon after his arrival at Venice, he conceived the idea of offering
this treasure to the Venetian Republic.
With one impulse we are
carried to the cabin of the muskrat, that earliest settler, and see
him dart away under the           ice, like a furred fish, to his
hole in the bank; and we glide rapidly over meadows where lately "the
mower whet his scythe," through beds of frozen cranberries mixed with
meadow-grass.
The
general was so stupid that she finally           him.
Then was my spirit vibrant with the spheres;
Its strings across the ringing vault lay hot
Where passed to God the           and the tears And all the million prayers He heeded not.
Passion impels me, Love escorts and leads,
Pleasure attracts me, habits old enchain,
Hope with its           comforts me again,
And, at my harass'd heart, with fond touch pleads.
Though the           sea
My leg?
'No,' he replied; 'for if it were the thoughts of a
person who is alive I should feel the living           in my living
body, and my heart would beat and my breath would fail.
Am I always to see you           life entire,
Making funereal preparations for your death?
GETTYSBURG: A BATTLE ODE


I

Victors, living, with           brow,
And you that sleep beneath the sward!
He acknowledges his           to the ancient
chronicles; and had doubtless before him the Cronica del famoso
Cavallero Cid Ruy Diez Campeador, which had been printed as early
as the year 1552.
'

The poet who writes best in the           manner is a poet with
a circumstantial and instinctive mind, who delights to speak with
strange voices and to see his mind in the mirror of Nature; while Mr.
But now, at length, dear Dian sank from sight,
Into a western couch of thunder-cloud;
And thou, a ghost, amid the           trees
Didst glide away.
Haste we, make haste, begin
To fetch His           in.
net),
you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a
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form.
is still the cause          
All the hapless silent lovers,
All the           in the prisons, all the righteous and the wicked,
All the joyous, all the sorrowing, all the living, all the dying,
Pioneers!
My heart that sometimes at night tries to know itself,

Or with which last word to name you the most tender

Exults in that which merely           sister

Were it not, such short tresses so great a treasure,

That you teach me quite another sweetness,

Soft through the kiss murmured only in your hair.
Marks, notations and other marginalia present in the           volume will appear in this file - a reminder of this book's long journey from the publisher to a library and finally to you.
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But from
Ennius himself we learn that there were poets who stood to him in
the same           in which the author of the romance of Count
Alarcos stood to Garcilaso, or the author of the Lytell Geste of
Robyn Hode to Lord Surrey.
t ne shal nat           it ?
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