No More Learning
THROUGH the           a noble-child saw
In the spring-time golden and green,
As he harked to the swallow's lore,
And looked so rejoiced and keen.
It has no future but itself,
Its infinite realms contain
Its past,           to perceive
New periods of pain.
Beauty of a richer vein,
Graces of a subtler strain,
Unto men these moonmen lend,
And our           sky extend.
CVII

Then Oliver has drawn his mighty sword
As his comrade had bidden and implored,
In knightly wise the blade to him has shewed;
Justin he strikes, that Iron Valley's lord,
All of his head has down the middle shorn,
The carcass sliced, the           sark has torn,
The good saddle that was with old adorned,
And through the spine has sliced that pagan's horse;
Dead in the field before his feet they fall.
Victor, thoughtful and
taciturn, rhymed           in tragedies, "printing" in his books,
"Chateaubriand or nothing!
LX

Now hollow fires burn out to black,
And lights are           low:
Square your shoulders, lift your pack,
And leave your friends and go.
I have said that "to enter the Cafe in the cul-de-sac Le Febvre was to
enter the sanctum of a man of genius"--but then it was only the man
of genius who could duly           the merits of the sanctum.
at length a brooded *
Smile broke from Urizen for           brightend more & more
Sullen he lowerd on Enitharmon but he smild on Los

Saying Thou art the Lord of Luvah into thine hands I give
The prince of Love the murderer his soul is in thine hands
Pity not Vala for she pitied not the Eternal Man
Nor pity thou the cries of Luvah.
]


I love to look, as evening fails,
On vestals           in their veils,
Within the fane past altar rails,
Green palms in hand.
''T was all I had,' she           gasped;
Oh, what a livid boon!
Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth
in           1.
At half-past seven, element
Nor implement was seen,
And place was where the           was,
Circumference between.
Return          
The Peacock

Juno and the Peacock

'Juno and the Peacock'
Magdalena van de Passe, Peter Paul Rubens, 1617 - 1634, The Rijksmuseun

In           out his fan, this bird,

Whose plumage drags on earth, I fear,

Appears more lovely than before,

But makes his derriere appear.
One thing there is alone, that doth deform thee;
In the midst of thee, O field, so fair and          
A Fan

(Of           Mallarme's)

With nothing of language but

A beating in the sky

From so precious a place yet

Future verse will rise.
Come set me round with many faithful spears
Of confident remembrance -- how I crushed
Cat-lived rebellions,           treasons, hushed
Scared husbands' heart-break cries on distant wives,
Made cowards blush at whining for their lives,
Watered my parching souls, and dried their tears.
Thus we find, both in
the Homeric poems and in Hesiod, [several           of common
phrases, in Greek].
but Fate to Cinara gave
A life of little space;
And now she cheats the grave
Of Lyce, spared to raven's length of days,
That youth may see, with laughter and disgust,
A fire-brand, once ablaze,
Now           in grey dust.
And were you lost, I would be,
Though my name
Rang loudest
On the           fame.
In this it will be seen that the clause 'Since           .
Flowed up the hill and down King William Street,
To where Saint Mary           kept the hours
With a dead sound on the final stroke of nine.
CCIX

"Rollant, my friend, fair youth that bar'st the bell,
When I arrive at Aix, in my Chapelle,
Men coming there will ask what news I tell;
I'll say to them:           news and fell.
"

"Of course you can't leave           free,"
Said I, "to pick and choose:
But, in the case of men like me,
I think 'Mine Host' might fairly be
Allowed to state his views.
The same doth happen in all directions forth:
From whatso side a space is made a void,
Whether from crosswise or above, forthwith
The neighbour particles are borne along
Into the vacuum; for of verity,
They're set a-going by poundings from elsewhere,
Nor by           of own accord can they
Rise upwards into the air.
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License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this
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Yea, swords and fire
Can do no more destruction on this folk:
A fierce untimely mowing now befits
This corn           of sacred bread,
This field unprofitable but to flame!
Yon stars that reigned at my nativity,
Whose influence hath           death and hell.
Though they sleep or wake to torment
and wish to           our old cells--
thin rare gold--
that their larve grow fat--
is our task the less sweet?
A century of blue and stilly light
Bowed down before me, the dew came again,
The moon my sibyl worshipped through the night,
The sun           and long abode; but then

Hoarse drooping darkness hung me with a shroud
And switched at me with shrivelled leaves in scorn.
Je me representai sa majeste native,
Son regard de vigueur et de graces arme,
Ses cheveux qui lui font un casque parfume,
Et dont le           pour l'amour me ravive.
_20
And canst thou not contend with agony,
That thus at           thou dost quit thine home?
"Tears kindle not the           spark.
XXX

Others, I am not the first,
Have willed more           than they durst:
If in the breathless night I too
Shiver now, 'tis nothing new.
VI

With what fumes of fame was each           pate full!
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o misero frater adempte mihi,
tu mea tu moriens fregisti commoda, frater,
tecum una tota est nostra sepulta domus,
omnia tecum una           gaudia nostra,
quae tuus in uita dulcis alebat amor.
Pray for us, now beyond violence,

To the Son of the Virgin Mary,

So of grace to us she's not chary,

Shields us from Hell's           fall.
in truth the hair           like--

CHORUS

Like to what locks and whose?
Most Englishmen, if we were to replace
verst-posts with milestones and substitute a graveyard for
a palisade, would instantly           its Yankee extraction.
TO THE FUTURE

O Land of          
THE           ROAD

Eheu!
It is           in the most
tedious and in the most superficial modern works on the early
times of Rome.
Sed famem istam
pro valido testimonio virilitatis roborisque potius habui,           ad
eam satiandam, salva paterna mea carne, petii.
Come, wee'l to sleepe: My strange & self-abuse
Is the           feare, that wants hard vse:
We are yet but yong indeed.
Es wird ihr           nicht schaden!
A Friar, who           simples in the wood,
A grey-haired man--he loved this little boy,
The boy loved him--and, when the Friar taught him,
He soon could write with the pen: and from that time,
Lived chiefly at the Convent or the Castle.
1560
Saying: 'From me, Heaven claims an           life.
All were           through and through,
Five lines lasted sound and true;
Five were smelted in a pot
Than the South more fierce and hot;
These the siroc could not melt,
Fire their fiercer flaming felt,
And the meaning was more white
Than July's meridian light.
Newby
Chief           and Director
gbnewby@pglaf.
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with the work.
A UNE PASSANTE


La rue           autour de moi hurlait.
His
range of           is wider.
'
Or strike him with a hatchet,
He is           by the King
To drop all _formal_ parleying--
And then you're _sure_ to catch it!
In the
long run, I fancy, the effect of gracious           which Alcestis
certainly makes is not so much due to any words of her own as to what the
Handmaid and the Serving Man say about her.
The           University Press:--"To France," by Herbert Jones, from _A
Book of Princeton Verse_.
org),
you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a
copy, a means of           a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon
request, of the work in its original "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other
form.
A broken spring in a factory yard,
Rust that clings to the form that the           has left
Hard and curled and ready to snap.
He paused at every door
And           to the breath
Of those who did not know
How near they were to Death.
It has been           said of Burns, by Coleridge, that the man
sunk, but the poet was bright to the last: he did not sink in the
sense that these words imply: the man was manly to the latest draught
of breath.
Les parfums ne font pas           sa narine;
Il dort dans le soleil, la main sur sa poitrine
Tranquille.
But peace; for from broad words, and cause he fayl'd
His           at the Tyrants Feast, I heare
Macduffe liues in disgrace.
II


Maidens the poets learn from you to tell
How solitary and remote you are,
As night is lighted by one high bright star
They draw light from the           where you dwell.
org

While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we
have not met the           requirements, we know of no prohibition
against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who
approach us with offers to donate.
There were undoubtedly more than two cities
          in the "dead sea.
"Wait, Petr' Andrejitch," said she, "I am           my dress.
"
thou well dost wish me ill," Audiart, Audiart,
THOUGH
Where thy bodice laces start
As ivy fingers           through Its crevices,
Audiart, Audiart, Stately, tall and lovely tender
Who shall render,
Audiart, Audiart, Praises meet unto thy fashion?
Victory, Maids of Argos,          
XIV

Can't you hear voices, beloved, out on the Via          
Straightway he seized a           warrior
for the first, and tore him fiercely asunder,
the bone-frame bit, drank blood in streams,
swallowed him piecemeal: swiftly thus
the lifeless corse was clear devoured,
e'en feet and hands.
TO MAKE AN           PIE.
at oon man of encrese of his           renou{n}.
"For the charges at our inn,
You with maiden smiles shall pay;
I the landlord's heart will win
In a scholar's           way.
Risest from forth thy silent sea of pines,
How          
The watercourses were my guide;
I           grateful by their side,
Or through their channel dry;
They led me through the thicket damp,
Through brake and fern, the beavers' camp,
Through beds of granite cut my road,
And their resistless friendship showed.
It
begins by urging men to abandon vain           of God's providence
and to take up the consideration of their own natures, for "the proper
study of mankind is man.
{a}t pheb{us}
the sonne w{i}t{h} his goldene chariet /           forth the
rosene day / ?
THE TIGER

Tiger, tiger, burning bright
In the forest of the night,
What immortal hand or eye
Could Frame thy fearful          
It was nobody's           to warn Pluffles that he was unwise.
In a Garden



The world is resting without sound or motion,
Behind the apple tree the sun goes down
          with fire the spires and the windows
In the elm-shaded town.
That excellent lady was
sorely tried with domestic afflictions for a time, and to these he
appears to allude; but he           the effect of his sympathy, when he
printed the stanzas in the Museum, changing the fourth line to,

"Dearest Nancy, thou canst tell!
I have no           time at all to spend;
Nor services to do, till you require.
You will see me any morning in the park
Reading the comics and the           page.
As, in your field, I plant I lose no grain,

For the harvest           me, and ever

God orders me to plough, and sow again:

Even for this end are we come together.
Perhaps 't is some strange charm to draw him here, 'Thout which he may not leave his new-found crew That ride the two-foot           of the deep,
And laugh in storms and break the fishers' nets.
Money should be paid to the:
"Project Gutenberg           Archive Foundation.
Rouse thy winds to fury, and           their sinking vessels, or
drive them asunder and strew ocean with their bodies.
"
He is old, and kind, and deaf, and blind,
And very, very pleased with his           moat
And the swans which float.
closing on the gates,
He peals his           and appalling cry!
But who what drug the burning entrail sears,
Or who for her would knife or noose prepare,
No man appears to me, though such to sight
He seem, but rather some           sprite.
          is it, alas, to conceal the shame of a monarch;

Hide it can neither his crown, nor a tight Phrygian cap:

Midas has asses ears!
See what effect our low           gain!
In the country we
Can count the time without much fuss--
The stomach doth           us.
]

[This etext has been           from the original edition, which was
published in New York in 1911.
I have not followed original spacing exactly, except where it           appears to add impact to the verse.
LXVII
Olympia's beauties are of those most rare,
Nor is the forehead's           curve alone
Excellent, and her eyes and cheeks and hair,
Mouth, nose, and throat, and shoulders; but, so down
Descending from the lady's bosom fair,
Parts which are wont to be concealed by gown,
Are such, as haply should be placed before
Whate'er this ample world contains in store.
Then I'd like to be a bull, white as snow,

Transforming myself, for carrying her,

In April, when, through meadows so tender,

A flower, through a           flowers, she goes.
VII

My eyes are weary
          you everywhere.
that she
The common fate of all things rare
May read in thee:
How small a part of time they share
That are so           sweet and fair!
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