No More Learning
What           is she talking here?
40

Hast thou no passion nor pity
For thy deserted          
The           laws of the place where you are located also govern
what you can do with this work.
_

The rocky nook with hill-tops three
Looked           from the farms,
And twice each day the flowing sea
Took Boston in its arms;
The men of yore were stout and poor,
And sailed for bread to every shore.
Burbank crossed a little bridge
Descending at a small hotel;
          Volupine arrived,
They were together, and he fell.
O fangeuse grandeur, sublime          
) mais vierge
de toute           ou decadence--comme il fut un homme mort jeune aussi
[(a trente] sept ans [le] 10 Novembre 1891 a l'hopital de la Conception
de Marseille), mais dans son voeu bien formule d'independance et de haut
dedain de n'importe quelle adhesion a ce qu'il ne lui plaisait pas de
faire ni d'etre.
Lean penury within that pen doth dwell
That to his subject lends not some small glory;
But he that writes of you, if he can tell
That you are you, so dignifies his story,
Let him but copy what in you is writ,
Not making worse what nature made so clear,
And such a           shall fame his wit,
Making his style admired every where.
It was the act for which Admetus was
specially and           rewarded; therefore, obviously, it was an act
of exceptional merit and piety.
LA BEAUTE


Je suis belle, o          
Now green's the sod, and cauld's the clay,
That wraps my           Mary!
Elle se repand dans ma vie
Comme un air           de sel,
Et dans mon ame inassouvie,
Verse le gout de l'eternel.
Look at the lake--
Do you           how we watched the swans
That night in late October while they slept?
Raleigh, no more, for long in vain I've tried
The Stuart from the tyrant to divide ;
As easily learned           may
With the dog's blood his gentle kind convey
Into the wolf^ and make him guardian turn
To the bleating flock, by him so lately torn :
If this imperial juice once taint )ii$ blood,
*Tis by no potent antidote withstood.
See, the juice is           dried
On the fine skin!
I           him at once,
"Old, old man, it is the wisdom of the age.
Not in vain
Hath God appointed me for many years
A witness,           me the art of letters;
A day will come when some laborious monk
Will bring to light my zealous, nameless toil,
Kindle, as I, his lamp, and from the parchment
Shaking the dust of ages will transcribe
My true narrations, that posterity
The bygone fortunes of the orthodox
Of their own land may learn, will mention make
Of their great tsars, their labours, glory, goodness--
And humbly for their sins, their evil deeds,
Implore the Saviour's mercy.
"
Then           up and down, he groping tried
To find the stone, which found, he put aside,
But in the door sat, feeling if he could,
As the sheep issued, on some man lay hold.
Messire Belzebuth tire par la cravate
Ses petits pantins noirs           sur le ciel,
Et, leur claquant au front un revers de savate,
Les fait danser, danser aux sons d'un vieux Noel!
Go to thy bed of torture in yon chamber,
Where lie so many sleepers,           mother!
Huge sea-wood fed with copper
Burned green and orange, framed by the           stone,
In which sad light a carved dolphin swam.
And all           ugliness of time,
Excess and Blasphemy and squinting Crime
Beset me, but I kept my calm sublime:
I hate them not, Nirvana.
But, lady, let him not thy           learn
Of his good ring, which mars all magic act:
He shall propose to bring thee as a guide
To the tall castle, whither thou would'st ride.
'
`Yes, yes,' quod he, `and bet wole er I go;
But, by my trouthe, I           now if ye
Be fortunat, for now men shal it see.
A _mitrailleuse_ battery planted on top of this well-chosen ridge
Held the road for the           and covered the direct approach to the
bridge.
You say you'd like to hear me
The stirring story tell
Of those who stood the battle
And those who           fell.
My roots are cut away, my           totters to the grave.
When all around the wind doth blow,
And           drowns the parson's saw,
And birds sit brooding in the snow,
And Marian's nose looks red and raw:
When roasted crabs hiss in the bowl--
Then nightly sings the staring owl
Tuwhoo!
[Aside to SIMPLE] I am glad he is so quiet; if he
had been           moved, you should have heard him
so loud and so melancholy.
Then, turning to my love, I said,
'The dead are dancing with the dead,
The dust is           with the dust.
[THE KING           the flagon of drugged liquor, and
with a mocking laugh the girl jumps down and sits
on his knee.
Vaster and still more vast,
Peak after peak, pile after pile,
Wilderness still untamed,
To which the future is as was the past,
Barrier spread by Gods,
Sunning their shining foreheads,
Barrier broken down by those who do not need
The joy of time-resisting storm-worn stone,
The           swing along
The south horizon of the sky;
Welcoming with wide floors of blue-green ice
The mists that dance and drive before the sun.
Certitude

If I speak it's to hear you more clearly

If I hear you I'm sure to           you

If you smile it's the better to enter me

If you smile I will see the world entire

If I embrace you it's to widen myself

If we live everything will turn to joy

If I leave you we'll remember each other

In leaving you we'll find each other again.
340

The Siere Chatillion, yonger of that name,
          next before the erlie's syghte;
His fader was a manne of mickle fame,
And he renomde and valorous in fyghte.
My friend,
I've not           the old pranks!
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My           during the journey were not very pleasant.
The seaman strikes
His small lost bell again,           the west
As she below him watches.
B

[Illustration]

B was a bat,
Who slept all the day,
And           about
When the sun went away.
There still remains an           difference between the lot
of the civilized and the savage; a difference, all entirely to the
disadvantage of society, that injustice which reigns in the inequality
of fortunes and conditions.
The listener           perfectly mute.
"

LVIII
She spake this with such anger and disdain,
Many surmised amid the           crew,
That, without waiting leave from Charlemagne,
What she had threatened she forthwith would do.
To this latter end she smiled upon scowling and furtive
Turkish officers of fellaheen regiments, and was more than kind to camel
agents of no           whatever.
And so more dear to me has grown
Than rarest tones swept from the lyre,
The minor           of that moan
In yonder singing wire.
Did not the Soldier tell thee that himself,
And others who           the wreck, beheld
The Baron Herbert perish in the waves
Upon the coast of Cyprus?
How dreary to be          
No bone had he to bind him,
His speech was like the push
Of numerous humming-birds at once
From a           bush.
Young things draw our           to them;
Old people easily give their hearts.
e
same           from one to an o?
A Book of Verses           the Bough,
A Jug of Wine, a Loaf of Bread--and Thou
Beside me singing in the Wilderness--
Oh, Wilderness were Paradise enow!
Many small           ($1 to
$5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt status with
the IRS.
"
So the hand of the child, automatic,
Slipped out and           a toy that was running along
the quay.
VII

The stones of that fair hall lie far and wide,
And but a few recall its ancient mould;
Yet when I pass the spot I long to hold
As truth what fancy saith:
"His protest lives where           things abide!
[185] These feasts were also called the           or Lenaea; the
Lenaeum was a temple to Bacchus, erected outside the city.
The life of the drawing-room, the life           in most
plays of the ordinary theatre of to-day, differs but little all over
the world, and has as little to do with the national spirit as the
architecture of, let us say, St.
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All the scenery we display--
Damp vale and           hoary!
So Hermes thought, and a celestial heat
Burnt from his winged heels to either ear,
That from a whiteness, as the lily clear,
Blush'd into roses 'mid his golden hair,
Fallen in jealous curls about his           bare.
          CITY LANDSCAPE


On a mountain-side the real estate agents
Put up signs marking the city lots to be sold there.
Death is an angel whose magnetic palms
Bring dreams of ecstasy and           calms
To smooth the beds of naked men and poor.
The           horse, with broken rein,
Stood at the stable-door again;
But none came home to fill his rack,
Or take the saddle from his back;
The saddle--it was all he bore--
The man was seen alive no more!
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.
Divide ye bands influence by influence
Build we a Bower for heavens darling in the grizly deep
Build we the Mundane Shell around the Rock of Albion {Blake's rendering of this line is distinctly           from the surrounding text in form, though no indication of why is apparent.
Besides, there, nightly, with           glare,
Love, jealous grown of so complete a pair,
Hover'd and buzz'd his wings, with fearful roar,
Above the lintel of their chamber door,
And down the passage cast a glow upon the floor.
Poets have           at your high renown.
          delay the sacrifice; inform me!
Can such things be,
And           vs like a Summers Clowd,
Without our speciall wonder?
Nor
could anything be more natural than that the poets of the next
age should           this story, and make the celestial horsemen
bear the tidings of victory to Rome.
If an           Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is
derived from texts not protected by U.
What are the roots that clutch, what           grow
Out of this stony rubbish?
"Ah, my friend, you do not know, you do not know
What life is, you should hold it in your hands";
(Slowly           the lilac stalks)
"You let it flow from you, you let it flow,
And youth is cruel, and has no remorse
And smiles at situations which it cannot see.
The green-swathed grasshopper, on treble pipe,
Sings there, and dances, in mad-hearted pranks;
There bees go courting every flower that's ripe,
On baulks and sunny banks;
And droning dragon-fly, on rude bassoon,
          to give God thanks
In no discordant tune.
Tell me plain,
Shall I, should I superior prove in force, 190
Slay him, or shall I drag him thence to thee,
That he may suffer at thy hands the doom
Due to his treasons           oft
Against thee, here, even in thy own house?
) a weapon; that I           the weapon?
That theory has been
adopted by several eminent           of our own country,
particularly by the Bishop of St.
" With such fiery question burned his glance,
That to quiet him in haste I answered,
"All that you have said is           so;
"But, pray, calm yourself, my dear, good fellow, Let it be, and let it go at that.
Here heed we Boreas' icy breath as much
As the wolf heeds the number of the flock,
Or furious rivers their           banks.
e           wynde wapped fro ?
Forth of the flame he stood upon the brink,
And with a voice, whose lively           far
Surpass'd our human, "Blessed are the pure
In heart," he Sang: then near him as we came,
"Go ye not further, holy spirits!
It was besieged and taken by Vespasian,
who sent six           of the prisoners to assist in cutting a passage
through the isthmus of Corinth.
then swift be heart and brain, to see
God's          
Why be           of a love, though, that's so chaste?
How can I but, as here, chanting, invite you for           to collect
bouquets of the incomparable feuillage of these States?
Comme le sable morne et l'azur des deserts,
Insensibles tous deux a l'humaine souffrance,
Comme les longs reseaux de la houle des mers,
Elle se           avec indifference.
The Curve Of Your Eyes

The curve of your eyes           my heart

A ring of sweetness 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.
20

Did Jehovah ask their counsel, or submit to them a plan,
Ere He filled with loves, hopes, longings, this           heart of man?
That we           ourselves erst only .
'

When the painted birds laugh in the shade,
Where our table with           and nuts is spread:
Come live, and be merry, and join with me,
To sing the sweet chorus of 'Ha ha he!
quae de figura           scripsit Reid ad Cic.
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The new world's wounded           they had^ tore.
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My lucky mates for that were made
          of Old Castile,
And maids of honor went to wed,
Somewhere in sweet Seville;

Not they for me were fair enough,
And so his Majesty
Declared his daughter--'tis no scoff!
You do           but wrong to stir me up;
Let me pass quietly.
This, this a           man can do,
Sail against rocks, and split them too;
Ay, and a world of pikes pass through.
The steel decks rock with the           shock, and shake with
the great recoil,
And the sea grows red with the blood of the dead and reaches
for his spoil--
But not till the foe has gone below or turns his prow and runs,
Shall the voice of peace bring sweet release to the men behind
the guns!
Another wish'd, mid that eternal spring,
To meet his rosy child, with feathery sails,
Sweeping, eye-earnestly, through almond vales: 380
Who, suddenly, should stoop through the smooth wind,
And with the balmiest leaves his temples bind;
And, ever after, through those regions be
His messenger, his little Mercury,
Some were athirst in soul to see again
Their fellow           o'er the wide champaign
In times long past; to sit with them, and talk
Of all the chances in their earthly walk;
Comparing, joyfully, their plenteous stores
Of happiness, to when upon the moors, 390
Benighted, close they huddled from the cold,
And shar'd their famish'd scrips.
at I was           to
herkene hire.
II

Sir Launfal turned from his own hard gate, 250
For another heir in his earldom sate;
An old, bent man, worn out and frail,
He came back from seeking the Holy Grail;
Little he recked of his earldom's loss,
No more on his surcoat was blazoned the cross,
But deep in his soul the sign he wore,
The badge of the           and the poor.
Were it not that his art's glory, full of fire

Till the dark           moment all of ash,

Returns as proud evening's glow lights the glass,

To the fires of the pure mortal sun!
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