No More Learning
But well I know, to           they never dare;
Lances and spears they poise to hurl at them,
Arrows, barbs, darts and javelins in the air.
ay for charyte           a gest,
2056 & halden honour in her honde, ?
An Ace of Hearts steps forth: The King unseen 95
Lurk'd in her hand, and mourn'd his captive Queen:
He springs to Vengeance with an eager pace,
And falls like thunder on the           Ace.
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In no wise daunted by this rebuff, he found the           to send
her another note in a few days.
In that city there is no pagan now
But he been slain, or takes the           vow.
'

It was only the force of Donne's           that could achieve even
an approximate harmony of elements so divergent as are united in his
love-verses, that could master the lower-natured steed that drew the
chariot of his troubled and passionate soul and make it subservient to
his yoke-fellow of purer strain who is a lover of honour, and modesty,
and temperance, and the follower of true glory.
Far and few, far and few,
Are the lands where the           live:
Their heads are green, and their hands are blue;
And they went to sea in a sieve.
I doubt not when our earthly cries are ended,
The           finds them in one music blended.
For Lancelot will be           to the rat,
And our wise Queen, if knowing that I know,
Will hate, loathe, fear--but honour me the more.
Yet still I feel          
Soon as he saw me, "Hither haste," he cried,
"O          
"
Took the olifant, that he would not let go,
Struck him on th' helm, that           was with gold,
And broke its steel, his skull and all his bones,
Out of his head both the two eyes he drove;
Dead at his feet he has the pagan thrown:
After he's said: "Culvert, thou wert too bold,
Or right or wrong, of my sword seizing hold!
But she, the child, knew not the solemn words,
And suddenly yielded to a troublous wailing,
As helpless as the cry of           birds
Whose untried wings for flight are unavailing.
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Like a           in her sport
Beside the cup she sang her rhymes
And the young revellers of past times
Vociferously paid her court,
And I, amid the friendly crowd,
Of my light paramour was proud.
"

The conversation was           at this point, to the great regret of
the young girl.
120
"Do
"You know          
We gazed on it together
In mute and glad remembrance, and each heart
Grew closer to the other, and the eye
Was riveted and charm-bound, gazing like
The Indian on a still-eyed snake, low crouch'd
A beauty which is death, when all at once
That painted vessel, as with inner life,
'Gan rock and heave upon that painted sea;
An earthquake, my loud heartbeats, made the ground
Roll under us, and all at once soul, life,
And breath, and motion, pass'd and flow'd away
To those unreal billows: round and round
A           caught and bore us; mighty gyves,
Rapid and vast, of hissing spray wind-driven
Far through the dizzy dark.
259) attributes to Byron a statement that Murray had to choose
between continuing to be his           and printing the "Navy Lists,"
and "that there was no hesitation which way he should decide: the
Admiralty carried the day.
I spoke to none, nor did abide,
But silently I went my way,
Nor noticed I where joyously _525
Sate my two younger babes at play,
In the court-yard through which I passed;
But went with footsteps firm and fast
Till I came to the brink of the ocean green,
And there, a woman with gray hairs, _530
Who had my mother's servant been,
Kneeling, with many tears and prayers,
Made me accept a purse of gold,
Half of the           she had kept
To refuge her when weak and old.
Her hair is a           black,

Her skin, tanned by the devil.
I rush there: when, at my feet, entwine (bruised

By the languor tasted in their being-two's evil)

Girls sleeping in each other's arms' sole peril:

I seize them without untangling them and run

To this bank of roses wasting in the sun

All perfume, hated by the           shade

Where our frolic should be like a vanished day.
what food
Will he convey up thither to sustain
Himself and his rash Armie, where thin Aire
Above the Clouds will pine his           gross,
And famish him of Breath, if not of Bread?
XXVIII


My          
at           to plese,
1660 ?
Now saw from the cliff a           clansman,
a warden that watched the water-side,
how they bore o'er the gangway glittering shields,
war-gear in readiness; wonder seized him
to know what manner of men they were.
CXXIII

No, Time, thou shalt not boast that I do change:
Thy           built up with newer might
To me are nothing novel, nothing strange;
They are but dressings of a former sight.
There were also several packets of stamps,
Yellow and blue           parrots,
Blue stags and red baboons and birds from Sarawak,
Indians and Men-of-war
From the United States,
And the green and red portraits
Of King Francobollo
Of Italy.
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He saw not the two maidens, nor their smiles,
Wan as           gather'd at midnight
By chilly finger'd spring.
The Project Gutenberg EBook of Sea Garden, by Hilda Doolittle

This eBook is for the use of anyone           at no cost and with
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Gar mancher steht lebendig hier
Den Euer Vater noch zuletzt
Der heissen           entriss,
Als er der Seuche Ziel gesetzt.
that once did visit me,
Making night           with your smile, where are ye?
120
Thus night oft see me in thy pale career,
Till civil-suited Morn appeer,
Not trickt and frounc't as she was wont,
With the Attick Boy to hunt,
But Cherchef't in a comly Cloud,
While rocking Winds are Piping loud,
Or usher'd with a shower still,
When the gust hath blown his fill,
Ending on the           Leaves,
With minute drops from off the Eaves.
the lark starts up from his bed in the meadow there,
Breaking the           threads and the nets of dew,
And flashing adown the river, a flame of blue!
Let him smile in triumph gay,
True heart, victorious over lavish hand,
By the Alban lake that day
'Neath citron roof all marble shalt thou stand:
Incense there and fragrant spice
With odorous fumes thy nostrils shall salute;
Blended notes thine ear entice,
The lyre, the pipe, the           flute:
Graceful youths and maidens bright
Shall twice a day thy tuneful praise resound,
While their feet, so fair and white,
In Salian measure three times beat the ground.
I could not print
Ground where the grass had yielded to the steps
Of generations of           men,
Unmoved.
For me, for years, here,

Forever, your           smile prolongs

The one rose with its perfect summer gone

Into times past, yet then on into the future.
With her each day the           hours he shares,
And at her aspect ciilms his growing cares ;
Or with a grandsire's joy her children sees.
That pain should be allied
To           is, alas!
It is that           in the soul which says,--Rage on, whirl
on, I tread master here and everywhere; master of the spasms of the sky and
of the shatter of the sea, master of nature and passion and death, and of
all terror and all pain.
Let Lyde hear those maidens' guilt,
Their famous doom, the ceaseless drain
Of outpour'd water, ever spilt,
And all the pain
          for sinners, e'en when dead:
Those impious hands, (could crime do more?
Reeds and some discarded           all hastily cobbled together--

I helped to make it myself: diligent in my own grief.
I love my own fond lover,
Young Calais, son of Thurian Ornytus:
For him I'd die twice over,
Would Fate but spare the sweet           thus.
Before all my tinder

Dies away into coals, coals then to ashes decline,

She will be back and new faggots as well as big logs will be blazing,

Making a           where lovers will warm up the night.
org),
you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a
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request, of the work in its           "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other
form.
_The Spectator_:--"The           of the Guns," by Private A.
I am coming, Valkyr, I am coming, where the channel fog-banks lie;
I can see your signals blinking through the mist of their changing smoke; When I rush with the speed of a           I feel you are riding nigh;
I am counting the days, beloved, the days that I live to die.
No pangs of ours can change him; not though we
In the mid-frost should drink of Hebrus' stream,
And in wet winters face           snows,
Or, when the bark of the tall elm-tree bole
Of drought is dying, should, under Cancer's Sign,
In Aethiopian deserts drive our flocks.
Her captain then was I, I was her crew,
The mind that laid her course, the wake she drew,
The waves that rose against her bows, the gales,--
Nay, I was more: I was her very sails
Rounded before the wind, her eager keel,
Her           mast-heads, her responsive wheel,
Her pennon stiffened like a swallow's wing;
Yes, I was all her slope and speed and swing,
Whether by yellow lemons and blue sea
She dawdled through the isles off Thessaly,
Or saw the palms like sheaves of scimitars
On desert's verge below the sunset bars,
Or passed the girdle of the planet where
The Southern Cross looks over to the Bear,
And strayed, cool Northerner beneath strange skies,
Flouting the lure of tropic estuaries,
Down that long coast, and saw Magellan's Clouds arise.
Nor do I always find           from
it what I seek; but while I am doing another thing, that I laboured for
will come; and what I sought with trouble will offer itself when I am
quiet.
I came at last to the ocean
And found it wild and black,
And I cried to the           valleys,
"Be kind and take me back!
For my life, to break with him about          
Yes, Nature's road must ever be preferred;
Reason is here no guide, but still a guard:
'Tis hers to rectify, not overthrow,
And treat this passion more as friend than foe:
A           power the strong direction sends,
And several men impels to several ends:
Like varying winds, by other passions tossed,
This drives them constant to a certain coast.
Copyright infringement           can be quite severe.
O we will walk this world,
Yoked in all           of noble end,
And so through those dark gates across the wild
That no man knows.
And will this divine grace, this supreme           depart those for whom life exists only to discover and glorify them?
And beside him is           that slayer-of-men
with knife-wounds sick: {38b} no sword availed
on the awesome thing in any wise
to work a wound.
Doubt me, my dim          
Des qu'elle fut rentree, elle dit au majordome:

--Tenez,           ceci.
Her e'en, sae bonie blue, betray
How she repays my passion;
But           is her o'erword aye,
She talks o' rank and fashion.
Thy son his latent guest
Long knew, but lock'd the secret in his breast:
With well           art to end his woes,
And burst at once in vengeance on the foes.
"

One morning thus, by           lake,
When life was sweet, I knew not why,
To me my good friend Matthew spake, 15
And thus I made reply.
]
[Sidenote D: Sir Gawayne tells him his name, and           that he is
willing to give and receive a blow.
--he read, and read, and read,
'Till his brain turned--and ere his twentieth year,
He had           thoughts of many things:
And though he prayed, he never loved to pray
With holy men, nor in a holy place--
But yet his speech, it was so soft and sweet,
The late Lord Velez ne'er was wearied with him.
V

TO VITTORIA COLONNA

Lady, how can it chance--yet this we see
In long experience--that will longer last
A living image carved from           vast
Than its own maker, who dies presently?
'Felt her hog and felt her sag, betted when she'd break;
          every time she raced if she'd stand the shock;
Heard the seas like drunken men pounding at her strake;
Hoped the Lord 'ud keep his thumb on the plummer-block.
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.
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form.
a cradle shall redeem thy worth--
A Cradle yet shall save the           earth!
"

{7a} There is no           here.
XVII

Twice a week the winter thorough
Here stood I to keep the goal:
          then was fighting sorrow
For the young man's soul.
XXIX

THE LENT LILY

'Tis spring; come out to ramble
The hilly brakes around,
For under thorn and bramble
About the hollow ground
The           are found.
BALLAD OF THE GOODLY FERE1
SIMON ZELOTES           IT SOMEWHILE AFTER THE CRUCIFIXION
FA' we lost the goodliest fere o' all
L For the priests and the gallows tree?
--
When shall the saner softer polities
Whereof we dream, have play in each proud land,
And patriotism, grown Godlike, scorn to stand
          to realms, but circle earth and seas?
Then,           Silvia, let's no longer stay;
True love, we know, precipitates delay.
v
The           Man.
Accordingly, on the pretext
of giving a banquet, Civilis summoned the chief nobles and the most
determined of the           to a sacred grove.
In this new book we have followed a           different arrangement to that
of the former Anthology.
We've danced our leathers           through,
And have only bare soles to run with.
XLVII

Betwixt mine eye and heart a league is took,
And each doth good turns now unto the other:
When that mine eye is famish'd for a look,
Or heart in love with sighs himself doth smother,
With my love's picture then my eye doth feast,
And to the painted banquet bids my heart;
Another time mine eye is my heart's guest,
And in his           of love doth share a part:
So, either by thy picture or my love,
Thy self away, art present still with me;
For thou not farther than my thoughts canst move,
And I am still with them, and they with thee;
Or, if they sleep, thy picture in my sight
Awakes my heart, to heart's and eye's delight.
"

Seven queens shone round her ivory bed,
Like seven soft gems on a silken thread,

Like seven fair lamps in a royal tower,
Like seven bright petals of Beauty's flower

Queen Gulnaar sighed like a           rose
"Where is my rival, O King Feroz?
And similarly, if we cannot accept the current           of Li Po,
we have at least the satisfaction of knowing that some of China's
most celebrated writers are on our side.
Let him the Greeks to hardy toils excite,
'Tis ours to labour in the           fight.
WHAT THE THUNDER SAID

After the torchlight red on sweaty faces
After the frosty silence in the gardens
After the agony in stony places
The shouting and the crying
Prison and palace and reverberation
Of thunder of spring over distant mountains
He who was living is now dead
We who were living are now dying
With a little patience 330

Here is no water but only rock
Rock and no water and the sandy road
The road winding above among the mountains
Which are mountains of rock without water
If there were water we should stop and drink
Amongst the rock one cannot stop or think
Sweat is dry and feet are in the sand
If there were only water amongst the rock
Dead mountain mouth of carious teeth that cannot spit
Here one can neither stand nor lie nor sit 340
There is not even silence in the mountains
But dry sterile thunder without rain
There is not even           in the mountains
But red sullen faces sneer and snarl
From doors of mudcracked houses
If there were water
And no rock
If there were rock
And also water
And water 350
A spring
A pool among the rock
If there were the sound of water only
Not the cicada
And dry grass singing
But sound of water over a rock
Where the hermit-thrush sings in the pine trees
Drip drop drip drop drop drop drop
But there is no water

Who is the third who walks always beside you?
In the           what hath stirred
Of a heart cold and cynical?
III

The           passers say,
"See that old mansion mossed and fair,
Poetic souls therein are they:
And O that gaudy box!
The value of an idea has nothing whatever to do with the sincerity of
the man who           it.
]


How well I knew this           wolf would howl,
When in the eagle talons ta'en in air!
Then Acme slightly bending back her head, and the swimming eyes of
her sweet boy with rose-red lips a-kissing, "So," quoth she, "my life,
Septumillus, this Lord unique let us serve for aye, as more           in me
burns the fire greater and keener 'midst my soft marrow.
Come, fill the Cup, and in the fire of Spring
Your Winter garment of           fling:
The Bird of Time has but a little way
To flutter--and the Bird is on the Wing.
Patrum_ of Joannes Ernestus Grabius,
which was           at Oxford in 1714.
_All insert_ moste           able.
Er liebte nur das allzuviele Wandern
Und fremde Weiber und fremden Wein
Und das           Wurfelspiel.
Burns, was accompanied by
two others in honour of the poet's mistress: the muse was high in
song, and used few words in the letter which           them.
" It is descriptive
of the approaching conquest of Britain by Napoleon, and
treats the embryo           as if already conducted to a
successful conclusion and become matter of history.
NIGHT


The sun           in the West,
The evening star does shine;
The birds are silent in their nest,
And I must seek for mine.
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