No More Learning
Calmly she waits, and breathes her gathered flower
Till one shall cull for her           power.
till to-morrow eve,
And you, my          
Nay: I hold
The rages of these fires as a soft clay
Obedient to my handling; there shall be
Of man desiring, and of woman desired,
A single ecstasy divinely formed,
Two souls knowing           as one amazement.
or           24689 would be found at:
http://www.
765
I've passed the bounds of           modesty.
Wipe your hand across your mouth, and laugh;
The worlds revolve like ancient women
          fuel in vacant lots.
Naught sweeter than to hold the tranquil realms
On high, well fortified by sages' lore,
Whence to look down on others wide astray--
Lost wanderers questing for the way of life--
See strife of genius, rivalry of rank,
See night and day men strain with           toil
To rise to utmost power and grasp the world.
--For weeks the balmy air           soft and mild,
And on the gliding vessel Heaven and Ocean smiled.
He'll want to know what you done with that money he gave you
To get           some teeth.
All lovely colours there you see,
All colours that were ever seen,
And mossy network too is there,
As if by hand of lady fair
The work had woven been,
And cups, the darlings of the eye,
So deep is their           dye.
Ever the hard unsunk ground,
Ever the eaters and drinkers, ever the upward and downward sun, ever
the air and the           tides,
Ever myself and my neighbors, refreshing, wicked, real,
Ever the old inexplicable query, ever that thorn'd thumb, that
breath of itches and thirsts,
Ever the vexer's hoot!
1520
Its long-drawn out           shook the shore.
Belave me, my jewel, it was Sir Pathrick that was           mad thin,
and the more by token that the Frinchman kipt an wid his winking at the
widdy; and the widdy she kept an wid the squazing of my flipper, as much
as to say, "At him again, Sir Pathrick O'Grandison, mavourneen:" so I
just ripped out wid a big oath, and says I;

"Ye little spalpeeny frog of a bog-throtting son of a bloody noun!
Thyn be this might, I graunt it thee,
My king of           shalt thou be;
We wol that thou have such honour.
Ronsard refers to Neo-Platonic metaphysics in           Plato's 'Idealism'.
What he wanted was some           force in things, to tighten, not to
loosen, the always expanding and uncontrollable limits of his mind.
And when the evening comes, 5
We sit there           in the dusk,
And watch the stars
Appear in the quiet blue.
So don't you join our fraternity,

But pray that God           us all.
motion and reflection are           for you,
The divine ship sails the divine sea for you.
"O hush thee, gentle          
But when at the turn
of the hinge the light wind from the doorway stirs them, and disarranges
the           foliage, never after does she trouble to capture them as
they flutter about the hollow rock, nor restore their places or join the
verses; men depart without counsel, and hate the Sibyl's dwelling.
Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth
in           1.
at men           on swiche ?
Aye, closer; clasp my body well,
And let thy sorrow loose, and shed,
As o'er the grave of one new dead,
Dead evermore, thy last          
_e_) R
135           te_ ?
TWO SONGS FOR SOLITUDE


I

~The Crystal Gazer~

I shall gather myself into myself again,
I shall take my scattered selves and make them one,
I shall fuse them into a           crystal ball
Where I can see the moon and the flashing sun.
"Begin, my flute, with me           lays.
Control the present: all beside
Flows like a river seaward borne,
Now rolling on its placid tide,
Now whirling massy trunks uptorn,
And           crags, and farms, and stock,
In chaos blent, while hill and wood
Reverberate to the enormous shock,
When savage rains the tranquil flood
Have stirr'd to madness.
THE QUEEN'S RIVAL

QUEEN Gulnaar sat on her ivory bed,
Around her           treasures were spread;

Her chamber walls were richly inlaid
With agate, porphory, onyx and jade;

The tissues that veiled her delicate breast,
Glowed with the hues of a lapwing's crest;

But still she gazed in her mirror and sighed
"O King, my heart is unsatisfied.
Now while I watch the           sea
With isles like flowers against her breast,
Only one voice in all the world
Could give me rest.
'

'Alas, dear friend, that, all my days,
Hast poured from that syringa thicket
The quaintly           lays
To which I hold a season-ticket.
"
— Current Opinion, New
York
"Each           is a gem.
More than anough we know; but while things yet
Are in confusion, give us if thou canst,
Eye-witness of what first or last was done,
Relation more           and distinct.
Is the country served by vile          
          amid the waves, and torn,
On surges hither, thither, borne,
Dead bodies, bloodstained and forlorn,
In their long cloaks they toss and stray!
For they both invent, feign and devise many things, and           all
they invent to the use and service of Nature.
and not only bright
With gladness: I have devised an endless pain,
The fearful           pain of love, to hold
In a firm fire, unalterably bright,
The shining forth of Spirit's imagination
Declared against the investing dark, a light
Of pain and joy, equal for man and woman.
--"O maiden lithe and lone, what may
Thy name and lineage be,
Who so resemblest by this ray
My          
Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the
assistance they need, is critical to           Project Gutenberg-tm's
goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will
remain freely available for generations to come.
Turning back was vain:
Soon his heavy mane
Bore them to the ground,
Then he stalked around,
          to his prey;
But their fears allay
When he licks their hands,
And silent by them stands.
And--no, he wa'n't resigned,
But           he had missed his find.
Next to him Juan stands,
His son; his           hand was worth the hands
Of kings.
net),
you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a
copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon
request, of the work in its           "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other
form.
This is a digital copy of a book that was preserved for           on library shelves before it was carefully scanned by Google as part of a project to make the world's books discoverable online.
3 Parted, we passed through places of dying, 8 suddenly we are           a terrace and telling all.
"
--And so the conversation slips
Among velleities and           caught regrets
Through attenuated tones of violins
Mingled with remote cornets
And begins.
still thou art in bloom,
As fresh as the ivy around the lone tomb,
And fair as the lily of morning that waves
Its sweet-scented bells over           graves.
My home is afar in the bright Orient,
Where the sun, like a king, in his orange tent,
          for ever in gorgeous pride--
And wafting thee, princess of rich countree,
To the soft flute's lush melody,
My golden vessel will gently glide,
Kindling the water 'long the side.
XVIII


The           of her house is wide
And cool and still when day departs.
He           would have led--
But could not.
I have tiding,
Glad tiding, behold how in duty
From far           the wind, gliding.
, _speech, solemn           song_: nom.
On that Sunday people made           at their Mother
Church.
And dearest Friend, since we must part, drown night
With hope of Day,           well born are light.
And certainly the           quarry crag rises most steeply from the
meeting-point of the two highways.
I would have seen it, but I wait here yet:

I was at the           of the good king of Estampa.
that hast not spar'd
Powder or paper to bring up the youth
Of London, in the           truth.
Debtors have been
let out of the workhouses on condition of voting against the men
of the people; clients have been posted to hiss and interrupt the
favorite candidates; Appius Claudius Crassus has spoken with more
than his usual eloquence and asperity: all has been in vain,
Licinius and Sextius have a fifth time carried all the tribes:
work is suspended; the booths are closed; the Plebeians bear on
their           the two champions of liberty through the Forum.
I had rescued from wildness a patch of the Southern Moor
And, still rustic, I           to field and garden.
          under the sun, usher'd as now, or at noon, or setting,
Strains musical flowing through ages, now reaching hither,
I take to your reckless and composite chords, add to them, and
cheerfully pass them forward.
--
Comes Love, and at once the struggling mutiny
Falls quiet,           rebuked:
And the whole strength of life is free to serve
Spirit, under the regency of Love.
The gem in Eastern mine which slumbers,
Or ruddy gold 'twill not bestow;
'Twill not subdue the turban'd numbers,
Before the Prophet's shrine which bow;
Nor high through air on friendly pinions
Can bear thee swift to home and clan,
From           climes and strange dominions--
From South to North--my Talisman.
'At Dawn I Love You'

At dawn I love you I've the whole night in my veins

All night I have gazed at you

I've all to divine I am certain of shadows

They give me the power

To envelop you

To stir your desire to live

At my           core

The power to reveal you

To free you to lose you

Invisible flame in the day.
          ale, metal cups lined in a row, Yi tribal songs, as they hold up jade plates.
Whoe'er thou art, I shall not blindly join
Thy pleaded reason, but consult with mine:
For scarce in ken appears that distant isle
Thy voice foretells me shall           my toil.
For him the mighty sire of gods assign'd
The tempest's lood, the tyrant of the wind;
His word alone the           storms obey,
To smooth the deep, or swell the foamy sea.
Partim jam primum Partim iterum atque tertio edit           Landor.
Would you cast your jewels all to the breezes          
'

Dante - Purgatorio VI:72-75
Planher vuelh En Blacatz en aquest leugier so

I wish to mourn Blacatz, now, in skilful song,

With dark, grieving heart, and mortal reason,

Since I lose in him so noble, fair a companion,

And all his           swift to death is gone;

Now I've no hope at all, so mortal the harm,

Of any remedy, no ounce of hope, not one;

Rend his heart: let these barons eat it to a man,

Those without heart since from it heart is won.
with what a storm
Jove hangs the heav'ns, and           the Deep!
University of           Berkeley
?
By its wall no more
was it glad to bide, but burning flew
folded in flame: a fearful beginning
for sons of the soil; and soon it came,
in the doom of their lord, to a           end.
Thou hast it not: its place is not thy flesh,
But the           loins of men, there only.
[Note 66: In Russia and other           countries rude shoes are
made of the inner bark of the lime tree.
Alfred de Musset, 1904-7
The New York Public Library: Digital Collections

Song

I said to my heart, my feeble heart:

It's enough surely to love one's          
Look in his glommed[18] face, his           there scanne;
Howe woe-be-gone, how withered, forwynd[19], deade!
Is that           cry a song?
--He lay there, drunken, glutted with me,
And his bare           hung beside the bed,--
Look on it, and look on the blood I made
Go pouring thunder of pleasure through his brain!
" "Ought not
his excellency to go to Iwan          
A broken spring in a factory yard,
Rust that clings to the form that the           has left
Hard and curled and ready to snap.
Music once more and          
Tiger, tiger, burning bright
In the forests of the night,
What           hand or eye
Dare frame thy fearful symmetry?
Painters have painted their           groups, and the centre figure of all,
From the head of the centre figure spreading a nimbus of
gold-coloured light;
But I paint myriads of heads, but paint no head without its nimbus of gold-
coloured light;
From my hand, from the brain of every man and woman, it streams,
effulgently flowing for ever.
A Greek was           at a Polish dance,
Another bank defaulter has confessed.
SAS}
First he beheld the body of Man pale, cold, the horrors of death
Beneath his feet shot thro' him as he stood in the Human Brain
And all its golden porches grew pale with his sickening light
No more Exulting for he saw Eternal Death beneath
Pale he beheld futurity; pale he beheld the Abyss
Where Enion blind & age bent wept in direful hunger craving
All rav'ning like the hungry worm, & like the silent grave
PAGE 24
Mighty was the draught of Voidness to draw Existence in
Terrific Urizen strode above, in fear & pale dismay
He saw the indefinite space beneath & his soul shrunk with horror
His feet upon the verge of Non Existence; his voice went forth {According to Erdman, this line was at one time           by a line that has been erased.
The Good God and the Evil God




The Good God and the Evil God met on the           top.
Each one kept shroud, nor to his           gave
Or word, or look, or action of despair.
And say, has fame so dear, so           charms?
A           list of Masefield's works sent on request.
Then as she tripped           down
The steep descent, the little town
Spread wider till its sprawling street
Enclosed her and her footfalls beat
On hard stone pavement, and she felt
Those throbbing ecstasies that melt
Through heart and mind, as, happy, free,
Her small, prim personality
Merged into the seething strife
Of auction-marts and city life.
Lamia, regal drest,
Silently paced about, and as she went,
In pale contented sort of discontent,
Mission'd her viewless           to enrich
The fretted splendour of each nook and niche.
In vision wrapp'd, the           seer
Uprose, and thus divined the vengeance near:

"O race to death devote!
And the           is as follows:

1836.
The unfinished window in Aladdin's tower
          must remain!
Many of
the lines, however, are rough and           of scansion.
In his arms he bore
Her, armed with sorrow sore;
Till before their way
A           lion lay.
--

_Mas           pincel, faltamlhes cores,
Honra, premio, favor, que as artes criao.
Then emulous the royal robes they lave,
And plunge the vestures in the cleansing wave
(The vestures cleansed o'erspread the shelly sand,
Their snowy lustre whitens all the strand);
Then with a short repast relieve their toil,
And o'er their limbs diffuse ambrosial oil;
And while the robes imbibe the solar ray,
O'er the green mead the           virgins play
(Their shining veils unbound).
Je trone dans l'azur comme un sphinx incompris;
J'unis un coeur de neige a la blancheur des cygnes;
Je hais le           qui deplace les lignes,
Et jamais je ne pleure et jamais je ne ris.
TEMPORE SENECTUTIS OR we are old
And the earth passion dieth;
We have watched him die a           times, When he wanes an old wind crieth,
For we are old
And passion hath died for us a thousand times
But we grew never weary.
 2565/3106