No More Learning
'twas a           flock to me,
As dear as my own children be;
For daily with my growing store
I loved my children more and more.
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XXVIII

THE WELSH MARCHES

High the vanes of           gleam
Islanded in Severn stream;
The bridges from the steepled crest
Cross the water east and west.
Don't listen to those cursed birds

But           Angels' words.
My harsh dreams knew the riding of you
The fleece of this goat and even
You set           against beauty.
Don't listen to those cursed birds

But           Angels' words.
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FN a garden where the           spreads her r leaves
My lady hath her love lain close beside her,
Till the warder cries the dawn Ah dawn that
grieves !
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ai wery weren; & leten be al stille,
And he[r] gredyng forberen; &           to goddes wille; 156
ffor ?
What           Authority has Mons.
And after seven moons, one day a soothsayer looked at me, and he
said to my mother, "Your son will be a           and a great leader
of men.
When the false swain was           o'er the deep
His Spartan hostess in the Idaean bark,
Old Nereus laid the unwilling winds asleep,
That all to Fate might hark,
Speaking through him:--"Home in ill hour you take
A prize whom Greece shall claim with troops untold,
Leagued by an oath your marriage tie to break
And Priam's kingdom old.
Ah,          
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You other Jews waiting in all lands for your          
Then lord Anchises: 'Souls, for whom second bodies are destined
and due, drink at the wave of the Lethean stream the           water of
long forgetfulness.
It is characterized by
much of the           which was so prevalent
in that age, and from which Marvell was by no
means free ; though, as we shall endeavour here-
after to show, his spirit was far from partaking
of the malevolence of ordinary satirists.
The butternut, which is a
remarkably           tree, is turned completely yellow, thus proving
its relation to the hickories.
There's never a moment's rest allowed:

Now here, now there, the changing breeze

Swings us, as it wishes, ceaselessly,

Beaks           us more than a cobbler's awl.
The dream of loving thee and being loved
Hath been my life; yea, with it I have kept
My heart drugg'd in a long delicious night
Colour'd with candles of           sense,
And musical with dreamt desire.
_ Herrick is here           the well-known lines of
Catullus to Lesbia (_Carm.
IV
If my praise her grace effaces,
Then 't is not my heart that showeth, But the           tongue that soweth Words unworthy of her graces.
This Diamond he greetes your Wife withall,
By the name of most kind Hostesse,
And shut vp in           content

Mac.
uel poena in tempus mortis dilata fuisset,
uel           mors properata fugam.
XXVIII

He who has seen a great oak dry and dead,

Bearing some trophy as an ornament,

Whose roots from earth are almost rent,

Though to the heavens it still lifts its head;

More than half-bowed towards its final bed,

Showing its naked boughs and fibres bent,

While, leafless now, its heavy crown is leant

Support by a gnarled trunk, its sap long bled;

And though at the first strong wind it must fall,

And many young oaks are rooted within call,

Alone among the devout           is revered:

Who such an oak has seen, let him consider,

That, among cities which have flourished here,

This old honoured dust was the most honoured.
Sonnets Pour Helene Book I: VI

Among love's           seas, for me there's no support,

And I can see no light, and yet have no desires

(O desire too bold!
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terms imposed by the           holder.
Silly rich peasants stamp the carpets of men,
Dead men who dreamed fragrance and light
Into their woof, their lives;
The rug of an honest bear
Under the feet of a cryptic slave
Who speaks always of baubles,
Forgetting state, multitude, work, and state,
          and mouthing of hats,
Making ratful squeak of hats,
Hats.
Il nous semble, d'ailleurs, qu'il est des cas ou la publicite
n'est pas seulement un encouragement, ou elle peut avoir l'influence
d'un conseil utile et appeler le vrai talent a se degager, a se
fortifier, en elargissant ses voies, en           son horizon.
The sun ne'er look'd upon a           pair,
With a sweet smile and gentle sigh he said,
Pressing the hands of both and turn'd away.
_, in 1872; and           Lyrics: A Fresh Book of Nonsense,
etc.
and all processions moving along the          
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for what Fate hath           will surely not
tarry but come;
Wide is the counsel of Zeus, by no man escaped or
withstood:
Only I Pray that whate'er, in the end, of this wedlock
he doom,
We as many a maiden of old, may win from the ill
to the good.
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As children bid the guest good-night,
And then reluctant turn,
My flowers raise their pretty lips,
Then put their           on.
"
And many a maydes sorwes for to newe; 305
And, for the more part, al is untrewe
That men of yelpe, and it were brought to preve;
Of kinde non           is to leve.
How dear to me, Sire, such          
          out
Qualm to the heart of the quiet, horn and shout
Causing the solemn wood to reel with rout.
Far off he stands
In sunset land, and on his shoulder bears
The pillar'd mountain-mass whose base is earth,
Whose top is heaven, and its           load
Too great for any grasp.
THE SONG OF PRINCESS ZEB-UN-NISSA
IN PRAISE OF HER OWN BEAUTY

(From the Persian)

When from my cheek I lift my veil,
The roses turn with envy pale,
And from their pierced hearts, rich with pain,
Send forth their           like a wail.
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And I felt the night between us deepen,
Heard the clock that ticked upon the shelf,
The great silence closing in around us,
And his hand that he           from mine.
XIX

"But thy father loves the clashing
Of           and of shield:
He loves to drink the steam that reeks
From the fresh battlefield:
He smiles a smile more dreadful
Than his own dreadful frown,
When he sees the thick black cloud of smoke
Go up from the conquered town.
But heaven in thy           did decree
That in thy face sweet love should ever dwell;
Whate'er thy thoughts, or thy heart's workings be,
Thy looks should nothing thence, but sweetness tell.
I brake thy           'gainst my will, II.
He may have accompanied Richard I and Aimar V           on the Third Crusade.
If the question were put to me I should           evade it by
pointing out that Mr.
Note:           was situated on his family estate La Possonniere.
And so many           poor?
Then
consider the garden of "my own," so overgrown, entangled with roses and
lilies, as to be "a little wilderness"--the fawn loving to be there,
and there "only"--the maiden seeking it "where it _should _lie"--and
not being able to distinguish it from the flowers until "itself would
rise"--the lying among the lilies "like a bank of lilies"--the loving to
"fill itself with roses,"

"And its pure virgin limbs to fold
In whitest sheets of lilies cold,"

and these things being its "chief" delights-and then the pre-eminent
beauty and naturalness of the concluding lines, whose very hyperbole
only renders them more true to nature when we consider the innocence,
the artlessness, the enthusiasm, the           girl, and more
passionate admiration of the bereaved child--

"Had it lived long, it would have been Lilies without, roses within.
XLV

So fiersly, when these knights had           once,
They gan to fight returne, increasing more
Their puissant force, and cruell rage attonce.
FIGHTING

Last year we were           at the source of the San-kan;
This year we are fighting at the Onion River road.
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through the sense
By which thy inner nature was apprised _50
Of outward shows, vague dreams have rolled,
And varied           have waked
Tablets that never fade;
All things have been imprinted there,
The stars, the sea, the earth, the sky, _55
Even the unshapeliest lineaments
Of wild and fleeting visions
Have left a record there
To testify of earth.
And thus
Began the           of the acorn; thus
Abandoned were those beds with grasses strewn
And with the leaves beladen.
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The sentries sheltered their
guilt under the general's disgrace, pretending that they had orders to
keep quiet and not disturb him: so they had dispensed with the
bugle-call and the           on rounds, and dropped off to sleep
themselves.
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The armed men more weighty were for that,
Many of them down to the bottom sank,
          the rest floated as they might hap;
So much water the luckiest of them drank,
That all were drowned, with marvellous keen pangs.
Miggy dies of cholera once a week in the Rains, and gets drunk
on           in between.
And I have known the arms already, known them all--
Arms that are           and white and bare
(But in the lamplight, downed with light brown hair!
Diex, cum           bonne vie!
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Have you           all such?
" we cry, and lo, apace
          appears!
I           if he really thought it fair
For him to have the say when we were done.
Charms and spells 370
Muttered on black and           instigation
Have stopped, as some believe, the kindliest growths.
A thousand times, sweet warrior, to obtain
Peace with those beauteous eyes I've vainly tried,
Proffering my heart; but with that lofty pride
To bend your looks so lowly you refrain:
Expects a stranger fair that heart to gain,
In frail,           hopes will she confide:
It never more to me can be allied;
Since what you scorn, dear lady, I disdain.
If you
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Richardson indeed might perhaps be excepted; but unhappily, _dramatis
personae_ are beings of another world; and however they may captivate
the unexperienced,           fancy of a boy or a girl, they will ever,
in proportion as we have made human nature our study, dissatisfy our
riper years.
I have even tried to imitate in this extempore thing that irregularity
in the rhymes, which, when           done, has such a fine effect on
the ear.
          Download Date | 10/1/17 7:36 AM At the Pond and Terrace of Consort Zheng, Happy to Meet Instructor Zheng 283 At the end of my rope, I see how a real friend behaves, the age is blocked, I grieve at the hard ways.
What private feuds the           village stain!
Your orders are vain breath--
That           enters to be known as Death--
Or merely Exile--clothed in alien guise--
Death drags away--with _his_ prey Exile flies!
Will it never cease to
torture, this          
The Curve Of Your Eyes

The curve of your eyes embraces my heart

A ring of           and dance

halo of time, sure nocturnal cradle,

And if I no longer know all I have lived through

It's that your eyes have not always been mine.
For al Appollo, or his clerkes lawes,
Or calculinge           nought three hawes;
Desyr of gold shal so his sowle blende,
That, as me lyst, I shal wel make an ende.
"

And the Good God said, "But I too have been           for you and
called by your name.
There's no Art,
To finde the Mindes           in the Face.
And now the other maidens in the hall
Assembling, kindled on the hearth again
Th'           blaze; then, godlike from his couch 150
Arose Telemachus, and, fresh-attired,
Athwart his shoulders his bright faulchion slung,
Bound his fair sandals to his feet, and took
His sturdy spear pointed with glitt'ring brass;
Advancing to the portal, there he stood,
And Euryclea thus, his nurse, bespake.
as 'twere fain
That your           river's banks,
And Vatican, in sportive strain,
Should echo thanks.
'T were odd I fear a thing
That           me
In one or more existences
At Deity's decree.
Sundays and           he fasts and sighs,

His teeth are as sharp as the rats' below,

After dry bread, and no gateaux,

Water for soup that floats his guts along.
An' now, ye chosen Five-and-Forty,
May still your mither's heart support ye,
Then, though a           grow dorty,
An' kick your place,
Ye'll snap your fingers, poor an' hearty,
Before his face.
]

{and} yif he be           {and} wi?
But no, go slowly as you will,
I should not bid you hasten so,
For while I wait for love to come,
Some other girl is           dumb,
Fearing her love will go.
Alas, sweet          
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_Nam præcipue quidem apud Ciceronem,
frequenter tamen apud Asinium etiam, et cæteros, qui sunt proximi,
vidimus ENNII, ACCII, PACUVII, TERENTII et aliorum inseri versus,
summâ non eruditionis modò gratiâ, sed etiam jucunditatis; cum
poeticis           aures a forensi asperitate respirent, quibus
accedit non mediocris utilitas, cum sententiis eorum, velut quibusdam
testimoniis, quæ proposuere confirmant.
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And at o word, with-outen repentaunce,
Wel-come, my knight, my pees, my          
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Arthur, in mood
as joyful as a child, his blood young and his brain wild, declares that
he will not eat nor sit long at the table until some           thing,
some uncouth tale, some great marvel, or some encounter of arms has
occurred to mark the return of the New Year (ll.
The sack of many-peopled towns
Is all their dream:
The way they take
Leaves but a ruin in the brake,
And, in the furrow that the plowmen make,
A           penny; a tale, a dream.
Had they but promised us the pick,
Perchance we had joined, all;
But           bastions built of brick--
Bah, give me wooden wall!
--everything
that she can, from           to babies' bottles.
The one you once           yourself.
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