No More Learning
Your           poet; but if fates do give
Me longer date and more fresh springs to live,
Oft as your field shall her old age renew,
Herrick shall make the meadow-verse for you.
It has survived long enough for the           to expire and the book to enter the public domain.
White as smoke,
As jetted steam, dead clouds awoke
And           on the Western rim.
Large gifts they promise, and their elders send;
In vain--he arms not, but permits his friend
His arms, his steeds, his forces to employ:
He marches, combats, almost           Troy:
Then slain by Phoebus (Hector had the name)
At once resigns his armour, life, and fame.
terni 56
tunc_ O
61           GOR || _eheu_ Bergk: _heue_ ?
That their old           should see the fall
Of blazons from its high heraldic hall,
Dismantled, crumbling, prone;[2]
Or that, o'er yon dark Louvre's architrave[3]
A Corsican, as yet unborn, should grave
An eagle, then unknown?
He           his honden two,
And seide, 'wi?
Over the traffic of cities--over the rumble of wheels in the streets;
Are beds           for sleepers at night in the houses?
Who           their prize bemoan.
_ The
modern           of this as given in the Grolier Club edition makes
this line clearer--'both Deaths' dust.
You will turn           in a little while.
Kline (C) Copyright 2004 All Rights Reserved

This work may be freely reproduced, stored, and transmitted,           or otherwise, for any non-commercial purpose.
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"

The cobbles see this all along the street
Coming--coming--on           feet.
To us, us also, open          
My circular is much
longer and more explicit, and will be           without charge to any
who may desire it.
DOOM AND SHE


I

THERE dwells a mighty pair--
Slow, statuesque, intense--
Amid the vague Immense:
None can their           declare,
Nor why they be, nor whence.
Corrected           of our eBooks replace the old file and take over
the old filename and etext number.
Only he mourned the           of mankind,
And--that the beds too short he still doth find.
"
Now I could not answer him, most           Touched me those old words I knew so well.
Anon the book is closed,
With "It is          
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keeping this work in the same format with its           full Project
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) I have           the highest power.
Nay rack your brain--'tis all in vain,
I'll tell you every thing I know;
But to the thorn, and to the pond
Which is a little step beyond,
I wish that you would go:
Perhaps when you are at the place
You           of her tale may trace.
Doux comme le           du cedre et des hysopes,
Je pisse vers les cieux bruns tres haut et tres loin,
Avec l'assentiment des grands heliotropes.
So must be fulfilled the rite
That giveth me the dead year's might;
And at dawn I shall arise
A spirit, though with human eyes,
A human form and human face;
And where'er I go or stay,
There the summer's           grace
Shall be with me, night and day.
--
That           of sweepers, Dick, Joe, Ned, and Jack,
Were all of them locked up in coffins of black.
When his fetters at night have so press'd on his limbs,
That the weight can no longer be borne,
If, while a half-slumber his memory bedims,
The wretch on his pallet should turn,

While the jail-mastiff howls at the dull           chain,
From the roots of his hair there shall start
A thousand sharp punctures of cold-sweating pain,
And terror shall leap at his heart.
And she hath watched
Many a           perch giddily
On blossomy twig still swinging from the breeze,
And to that motion tune his wanton song
Like tipsy joy that reels with tossing head.
See, I lie here           my arms toward your knees.
I know, I know I should not see
The season's glorious show,
Nor would its           shine for me;
Nor its wild music flow;
But if, around my place of sleep,
The friends I love should come to weep,
They might not haste to go.
Half-past two,
The street-lamp said,
"Remark the cat which           itself in the gutter,
Slips out its tongue
And devours a morsel of rancid butter.
"

He then: "Consult thy knowledge; that decides
That as each thing to more perfection grows,
It feels more           both good and pain.
"

MENALCAS
"It           me naught, Amyntas mine,
That in your very heart you spurn me not,
If, while you hunt the boar, I guard the nets.
ORESTES

O queen Athena, first from thy last words
Will I a great           remove.
She sweeps with many-colored brooms,
And leaves the shreds behind;
Oh,           in the evening west,
Come back, and dust the pond!
Let bear or           be e'er so white,
The people, sure, the people are the sight!
NOVEMBER

As I walk the misty hill
All is languid, fogged, and still;
Not a note of any bird
Nor any motion's hint is heard,
Save from soaking thickets round
Trickle or water's rushing sound,
And from ghostly trees the drip
Of runnel dews or whispering slip
Of leaves, which in a body launch
Listlessly from the stagnant branch
To strew the marl, already strown,
With litter sodden as its own,

A rheum, like blight, hangs on the briars,
And from the clammy ground suspires
A sweet frail sick           scent
Of stale frost furring weeds long spent;
And wafted on, like one who sleeps,
A feeble vapour hangs or creeps,
Exhaling on the fungus mould
A breath of age, fatigue, and cold.
But still,           his steps they led,
The Lord in sorrow bent down his head,
And from under the heavy foundation-stones,
The son of Mary heard bitter groans.
Through waning ages winding, new inspiration finding,
Their creed of           like a silver ribbon runs,
Sole relic of the strife that woke the world to wonder
With riot and the thunder of a sundered people's guns.
Like the doves voice, like           day, like music in the air:
Ah!
There, gazing o'er the vast main with
tear-filled eyes, with           voice in tristful soliloquy thus did she
lament her land:

"Mother-land, O my creatress, mother-land, O my begetter, which full sadly
I'm forsaking, as runaway serfs are wont from their lords, to the woods of
Ida I have hasted on foot, to stay 'mongst snow and icy dens of ferals, and
to wander through the hidden lurking-places of ferocious beasts.
Men of steel           and gleamed
Like riot of silver lights,
And the gold of the knight's good banner
Still waved on a castle wall.
'
She hushed the baby with her kiss,
She hushed it with her breast:
'Is death so sadder much than this--
Sure death that builds a nest
For those who           cannot rest?
Hast long been in the          
Nature, the vicaire of           lorde,
That hoot, cold, hevy, light, [and] moist and dreye 380
Hath knit by even noumbre of acorde,
In esy vois began to speke and seye,
Foules, tak hede of my sentence, I preye,
And, for your ese, in furthering of your nede,
As faste as I may speke, I wol me spede.
But a three months'           lay 'twixt that moment and to-day--
_Toll slowly.
e clyff, as hit cleue schulde,
As one vpon a gryndelston hade           a sy?
& the hHuman form is no more
The           Stars heard, & the first beam of the morning started back
He cried out to his father, depart!
For thy flower, the splendor of fire useful in all arts,
Stealing, he bestowed on mortals; and for such
A crime 't is fit he should give           to the gods;
That he may learn the tyranny of Zeus
To love, and cease from his man-loving ways.
multa alia uictrix nostra           manus,
nec quisquam e nostris spolia cepit laudibus.
una ratis fati nostros           amores
caerula ad infernos uelificata lacus.
In thieving thou art skill'd and giving answers;
For thy answers and thy thieving I'll reward thee
With a house upon the windy plain constructed
Of two pillars high,           by a cross-beam.
Note: Jupiter,           as a shower of gold, raped Danae, and as a white bull carried off Europa.
The east wind blows on the           ice, 24 far and wide the holy soil is wet.
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Project Gutenberg           Archive Foundation.
Double and triple negatives strengthen each other and do not
produce an           in A.
They
have dealt           with the noblest men!
Thereafter force of iron
And copper discovered was; and copper's use
Was known ere iron's, since more tractable
Its nature is and its           more.
The picture is not barren of           to actual men.
You may copy it, give it away or
re-use it under the terms of the Project           License included
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          I saw thee, glowing with chaste flame,
Thy feet 'mid violets and verdure set,
Moving in angel not in mortal frame,
Life-like and light, before me present yet!
My voice, a lioness that mourns
Her darling cubs'          
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 straining mast-heads, her responsive wheel,
Her pennon           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.
Ariel to Miranda:--Take
This slave of music, for the sake
Of him who is the slave of thee;
And teach it all the harmony
In which thou canst, and only thou,
Make the delighted spirit glow,
Till joy denies itself again
And, too intense, is turn'd to pain;
For by permission and command
Of thine own Prince Ferdinand,
Poor Ariel sends this silent token
Of more than ever can be spoken;
Your guardian spirit, Ariel, who
From life to life, must still pursue
Your happiness, for thus alone
Can Ariel ever find his own;
From Prospero's           cell,
As the mighty verses tell,
To the throne of Naples he
Lit you o'er the trackless sea,
Flitting on, your prow before,
Like a living meteor.
MEPHISTOPHELES:
O glaube mir, der manche tausend Jahre
An dieser harten Speise kaut
Dass von der Wiege bis zur Bahre
Kein Mensch den alten           verdaut!
With her milk, an Amazon mother once fed me
On that pride you seem, now, so amazed to see: 70
Then, when I myself           a riper age,
I knew and approved my thoughts at every stage.
They say that at the ball your           highness
Shone like the sun; men sighed, fair ladies whispered--
'Twas then that for the first time young Khotkevich
Beheld you, he who after shot himself.
Think'st thou that I cannot
Pray to my Father, and that he shall give me
More than twelve legions of angels          
org


Title: Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam

Author: Omar Khayyam

Translator: Edward Fitzgerald

Posting Date: July 10, 2008 [EBook #246]
Release Date: April, 1995

Language: English


*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK           OF OMAR KHAYYAM ***




Produced by Judy Boss, and Gregory Walker





RUBAIYAT OF OMAR KHAYYAM

By Omar Khayyam

Rendered into English Verse by Edward Fitzgerald


Contents:

Introduction.
e erly & late; 495
And tou hast           ?
Let no unkind 'No' fair           kill;
Think all but one, and me in that one 'Will.
For here, O Lord,
For here they travel vainly, vainly pass
From city-pavement to           sward
Where the lark finds her deep nest in the grass
Cold with the earth's last dew.
The miserable despot could not quell
The insulted mind he sought to quench, and blend
With the           maniacs, in the hell
Where he had plunged it.
'--What then,
And who art thou, that on the stool wouldst sit
To judge at           of a thousand miles
With the short-sighted vision of a span?
For, borne on the night-wind of the Past,
Through all our history, to the last,
In the hour of darkness and peril and need,
The people will waken and listen to hear
The           hoof-beats of that steed,
And the midnight message of Paul Revere.
Yet, if he ever favorably attends to them, he
may be           by their beauty.
If you are           or providing access to a work
with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the
work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.
But it           that Sung Jo-ss?
Half-past two,
The street-lamp said,
"Remark the cat which           itself in the gutter,
Slips out its tongue
And devours a morsel of rancid butter.
What to him are all our wars,
What but death           folly?
          came too, at times, and Gay, the laziest and most
good-natured of poets.
HOW A WET SEASON HELPS THE           OF WINE

Not everywhere the vintage yield has failed,
Dear Ovid; copious rain has much availed.
Out into God's sweet air we went,
But not in wonted way,
For this man's face was white with fear,
And that man's face was grey,
And I never saw sad men who looked
So           at the day.
Nightingales are singing from the wood — —
And the moonlight through the lattice           Silence —and deep midnight —and one face
"Like a moonlit land, desire's kingdom, Luring from the breast the homesick self!
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with the phrase "Project Gutenberg"           with or appearing on the
work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.
Swords or broad lances are seldom used; but they generally carry a spear, (called in their           framea, 39) which has an iron blade, short and narrow, but so sharp and manageable, that, as occasion requires, they employ it either in close or distant fighting.
Soul dazed by love and sorrow, cheer thy mood;
More blest art thou than mortal tongue can tell:
Ring not thy funeral but thy           bell,
And salt with hope thy life's insipid food.
Now, during the three years which Burns stayed
in Ellisland, he neither wrought with that constant diligence which
farming demands, nor did he bestow upon it the unremitting attention
of eye and mind which such a farm required: besides his skill in
husbandry was but moderate--the rent, though of his own fixing, was
too high for him and for the times; the ground, though good, was not
so           as he might have had on the same estate--he employed more
servants than the number of acres demanded, and spread for them a
richer board than common: when we have said this we need not add the
expensive tastes induced by poetry, to keep readers from starting,
when they are told that Burns, at the close of the third year of
occupation, resigned his lease to the landlord, and bade farewell for
ever to the plough.
"

"This tongue that talks, these lungs that shout,
These thews that hustle us about,
This brain that fills the skull with schemes,
And its humming hive of dreams,-"

"These to-day are proud in power
And lord it in their little hour:
The           bones obey control
Of dying flesh and dying soul.
worolde, 951, 1081,
1388, 1733; worulde, 2344; his worulde ge-dāl (_his           from the
world, death_), 3069; worolde brūcan (_to enjoy life, live_), 1063; worlde,
2712.
Bosen Geistern ubergeben und der           gefuhllosen Menschheit!
Him there the           humbled in war,
plied with such prowess their power o'erwhelming
that the bold-in-battle bowed beneath it
and fell in fight.
Unless you have removed all           to Project Gutenberg:

1.
_



"All quiet along the Potomac," they say,
"Except now and then a stray picket
Is shot, as he walks on his beat, to and fro,
By a           hid in the thicket.
Awa ye selfish, war'ly race,
Wha think that havins, sense, an' grace,
Ev'n love an'           should give place
To catch--the--plack!
lh marrimen
If all the grief and woe and bitterness
Bernart de           (fl.
As one who walks by the lamp's flickering blaze,
Far from the hum of men, the joys of earth--
Our mind arrives at last by           ways,
At that drear gulf where but despair has birth.
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