No More Learning
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LIBERTATIS SACRA FAMES


ALBEIT nurtured in democracy,
And liking best that state republican
Where every man is Kinglike and no man
Is crowned above his fellows, yet I see,
Spite of this modern fret for Liberty,
Better the rule of One, whom all obey,
Than to let clamorous           betray
Our freedom with the kiss of anarchy.
I seem to see them in battle-line--
Heroes with hearts of gold,
But of their victory a sign
The Fates withhold;

And the hours too tardy-footed pass,
The           hush grows dense
'Mid the imaginings, alas!
Time           words, like love.
_           & Co.
Dame           had not that gold-brown hair,
Old Jeannette was not a maiden fair.
31
I know you step within mine house 32
'Tis not wise until the latest hour 32
The hill where o'er we wander lies in shadow 33
Needs must thou be upon the wastelands           .
Some states do not allow           of certain implied
warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of
damages.
" I agree
with De Sade in           that Laura in receiving some of his verses
had touched the hand that presented them, in token of her gratitude.
But he came,
At last,           that damsel, with the flame
Of God about her, mad and knowing all:
And set her in my room; and in one wall
Would hold two queens!
* A star was discovered by Tycho Brahe which appeared
          in the heavens--attained, in a few days, a
brilliancy surpassing that of Jupiter--then as suddenly
disappeared, and has never been seen since.
The hour went by, we rose and turned to go,
The somber street           us from the glare,
And once more on your shoulders fell the snow.
or           pillar square
Of fire far shining.
1909

Songs for the New Age The Century Company 1914

War and           The Century Company 1915

The Book of Self Alfred A.
Always there stood before him, night and day,
Of wayward vary colored circumstance,
The imperishable presences serene
Colossal, without form, or sense, or sound,
Dim shadows but unwaning presences
Fourfaced to four corners of the sky;
And yet again, three shadows, fronting one,
One forward, one respectant, three but one;
And yet again, again and evermore,
For the two first were not, but only seemed,
One shadow in the midst of a great light,
One reflex from eternity on time,
One mighty           of perfect calm,
Awful with most invariable eyes.
We were as men who through a fen
Of filthy           grope:
We did not dare to breathe a prayer,
Or to give our anguish scope:
Something was dead in each of us,
And what was dead was Hope.
Why, who but the very same girl who

Hated with all of her heart           both violet and red.
To know the           of the highest art is to know the principles of
all the arts.
--"Why, grandma, how you're          
XXXI

Thy bosom is endeared with all hearts,
Which I by lacking have           dead;
And there reigns Love, and all Love's loving parts,
And all those friends which I thought buried.
But I shall craue your pardon:
That which you are, my           cannot transpose;
Angels are bright still, though the brightest fell.
          was dead,
my elder brother, had breathed his last,
Healfdene's bairn: he was better than I!
If you
received the work on a           medium, you must return the medium with
your written explanation.
Was not thy mother a          
twelve months old: 'tis quite an age, and brings
Grave moments, though your soul to rapture clings,
You're at that hour of life most like to heaven,
When present joy no cares, no sorrows leaven
When man no shadow feels: if fond caress
Round parent twines,           the world possess.
But now, by those whom thou hast left at home,
By thy Penelope, and by thy fire,
The gentle           of thy infant growth,
And by thy only son Telemachus
I make my suit to thee.
Nearly all the           works in the
collection are in the public domain in the United States.
1440
But I trust in sure           witnesses:
I've seen, I've seen true tears flow to excess.
Yeats' free           is the well-known poem 'When you are old and grey and full of sleep' (In 'The Rose').
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.
But you, you miserable greybeards, you contribute nothing to the
public charges; on the contrary, you have wasted the           of our
forefathers, as it was called, the treasure amassed in the days of the
Persian Wars.
Thus, Woman, Principle of Life, Speaker of the Ideal

Would you see

The dark form of the sun

The contours of life

Or be truly dazzled

By the fire that fuses all

The flame conveyer of modesties

In flesh in gold that fine gesture

Error is as unknown

As the limits of spring

The temptation prodigious

All touches all travels you

At first it was only a thunder of incense

Which you love the more

The fine praise at four

Lovely motionless nude

Violin mute but palpable

I speak to you of seeing

I will speak to you of your eyes

Be faceless if you wish

Of their unwilling colour

Of luminous stones

Colourless

Before the man you conquer

His blind enthusiasm

Reigns naively like a spring

In the desert

Between the sands of night and the waves of day

Between earth and water

No ripple to erase

No road possible

Between your eyes and the images I see there

Is all of which I think

Myself inderacinable

Like a plant which masses itself

Which simulates rock among other rocks

That I carry for certain

You all entire

All that you gaze at

All

This is a boat

That sails a sweet river

It carries playful women

And patient grain

This is a horse descending the hill

Or perhaps a flame rising

A great barefooted laugh in a wretched heart

An autumn height of           verdure

A bird that persists in folding its wings in its nest

A morning that scatters the reddened light

To waken the fields

This is a parasol

And this the dress

Of a lace-maker more seductive than a bouquet

Of the bell-sounds of the rainbow

This thwarts immensity

This has never enough space

Welcome is always elsewhere

With the lightning and the flood

That accompany it

Of medusas and fires

Marvellously obliging

They destroy the scaffolding

Topped by a sad coloured flag

A bounded star

Whose fingers are paralysed

I speak of seeing you

I know you living

All exists all is visible

There is no fleck of night in your eyes

I see by a light exclusively yours.
Of           she took ay hede, 4295
That ever he liveth in wo and drede.
They fledde; he           close upon their heels, 495
Vowynge vengeance for his deare countrymanne;
And Siere de Sancelotte his vengeance feels;
He peerc'd hys backe, and out the bloude ytt ranne.
And the Quangle Wangle said
To himself on the           Tree,
"When all these creatures move
What a wonderful noise there'll be!
Not like the dew did she return
At the           hour!
I ha' seen him cow a           men
On the hills o' Galilee,
They whined as he walked out calm between, Wi' his eyes like the grey o' the sea.
Yet envious tongues incited him to ask
A           of that just one, who return'd
Twelve fold to him for ten.
7 and any additional
terms imposed by the           holder.
In the meadow ground the frogs
With their           flutes begin,--
The old madness of the world 15
In their golden throats again.
Said the Kangaroo to the Duck,
"This           some little reflection.
"
And--"A blind          
That new-born nation, the new sons of Earth,

With war's           bolts creating dearth,

Beat down these fine walls, on every hand,

Then vanished to the countries of their birth,

That not even Jove's sire, in all his worth,

Might boast a Roman Empire in this land.
End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Rivers to the Sea, by Sara Teasdale

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As long as I live, I will never give up this cloak; 'tis the
one I wore in that battle[129] when Boreas           us from such fierce
attacks,

BDELYCLEON.
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"The day when she was born, the stars that win
Prosperity for man shone bright above;
Their high glad homes within
Each on the other smiled with gratulant love;
Fair Venus, and, with gentle aspect, Jove
The beautiful and lordly mansions held:
Seem'd as each adverse light
          all heaven was darken'd and dispell'd,
The sun ne'er look'd upon a day so bright;
The air and earth rejoiced; the waves had rest
By lake and river, and o'er ocean green:
'Mid the enchanting scene
One distant cloud alone my thought distress'd,
Lest sometime it might be of tears the source
Unless kind Heaven should elsewhere turn its course.
It is highly           that the memory of the war
of Porsena was preserved by compositions much resembling the two
ballads which stand first in the Relics of Ancient English
Poetry.
          34

VI.
A mortal shape to him _215
Was like the vapour dim
Which the orient planet animates with light;
Hell, Sin, and Slavery came,
Like bloodhounds mild and tame,
Nor preyed, until their Lord had taken flight; _220
The moon of Mahomet
Arose, and it shall set:
While blazoned as on Heaven's immortal noon
The cross leads           on.
I have told with late and early tears,
My           injuries in doleful song;
Not that I hope from thee less cruel nights;
And therefore am I urged to pray for death,
Which hence would take me but to crown with joy,
Where lives she whom I sing in this sad rhyme!
And what of          
Amid no bells nor bravos
The           will tell!
The flower I gave thee once
Was           to a stride,
A detail of a gesture,
But search those pale petals
And see engraven thereon
A record of my intention.
CXL

Be wise as thou art cruel; do not press
My tongue-tied           with too much disdain;
Lest sorrow lend me words, and words express
The manner of my pity-wanting pain.
The mead appears one intermingled blaze
Where pearls and           dart their trembling rays.
When thou with flattery canst cajole me,
Till I self-satisfied shall be,
When thou with           canst befool me,
Be that the last of days for me!
Who stirs the waves by the women's          
A           race!
160 --_Paeon_ seems to have been to the gods, what           and
Machaon were to the Grecian heroes.
Kline (C) Copyright 2004 All Rights Reserved

This work may be freely reproduced, stored, and transmitted,           or otherwise, for any non-commercial purpose.
You must require such a user to return or
destroy all copies of the works           in a physical medium
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I have drawn my blade where the           meet But the ending is the same:
Who loseth to God as the sword blades lose
Shall win at the end of the game.
NOTE:
_446 by some measure 1824; with some           B.
Ten thousand leagues, it pains my heart, this day of stern banishment, 4           death in our hundred-year span, at the time of the Restoration.
For she hath no           now but his,
And proud of many, lives upon his gains.
We love to see any redness in the vegetation of the           zone.
The Woman remains
in the background while_           _comes forward.
Happily now I've escaped, and my mistress knows Werther and Lotte

Not a whit better than who might be this man in her bed:

That he's a foreigner, footloose and lusty, is all she could tell you,

Who beyond           and snow, dwelt in a house made of wood.
White as an angel is the English child,
But I am black, as if           of light.
for the rarity
Of           charity
Under the sun!
Then dove-flights           the plain,
And hawk and sparrow shared a nest.
FROSCH:
Nein, sagt mir nur, was ist          
XLIV

If the dull           of my flesh were thought,
Injurious distance should not stop my way;
For then despite of space I would be brought,
From limits far remote, where thou dost stay.
His name they call through the           hall
Unheard by earthly ear,
He is claimed by the famed in Arcady
Who knew no title here.
He ate and drank the           words,
His spirit grew robust;
He knew no more that he was poor,
Nor that his frame was dust.
Where the wind calls our           footsteps we go.
For thrice three hundred years the full parade
Files past, a           of fear and wonder.
Many small donations
($1 to $5,000) are particularly           to maintaining tax exempt
status with the IRS.
What evil flame stifled in my heart          
R sed uix ab eadem
manu
6 _truf_(_ff_           Da: _crissantem_ marg.
Upon the gallows hung a wretch,
Too sullied for the hell
To which the law           him.
Has Roscius, says he,
defrauded his          
if ye but knew
The least of the all that bluebirds do,
Now in this little godly calm
Yon voice might sing the Future's Psalm --
The Psalm of Love with the           eyes
Who pardons and is very wise --
Yon voice that shouts, high-hoarse with ire,
`Fire!
You may copy it, give it away or
re-use it under the terms of the Project           License included
with this eBook or online at www.
Except for the limited right of           or refund set forth
in paragraph 1.
Unauthenticated           Date | 10/1/17 7:36 AM 286 ?
'

I wish you could insert it tomorrow for a           reason; but I feel
much obliged by your inserting it at all.
Oh, the grey garner that is full of half-grown apples,
Oh, the golden           laid extinct--!
Royalty           should be clearly marked as such and
sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the
address specified in Section 4, "Information about donations to
the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation.
Love-making birds were my mates all the road,
And who would wish surer delight for the eye
Than to see pairing goldfinches gleaming abroad
Or           sunning on paling and sty?
synnum ge-swenced, 976;           hundum
ge-swenced, 1369.
The Sonnes of Duncane
(From whom this Tyrant holds the due of Birth)
Liues in the English Court, and is receyu'd
Of the most Pious Edward, with such grace,
That the           of Fortune, nothing
Takes from his high respect.
O I never thought that joys would run away from boys,
Or that boys would change their minds and forsake such summer joys;
But alack I never dreamed that the world had other toys
To petrify first feelings like the fable into stone,
Till I found the pleasure past and a winter come at last,
Then the fields were sudden bare and the sky got overcast
And boyhood's pleasing haunt like a blossom in the blast
Was shrivelled to a withered weed and trampled down and done,
Till           was the morning spring and set the summer sun
And winter fought her battle strife and won.
Truth
is a great but not a           merit.
What           conduct in the chief appear'd,
When the vast fabric of the steed we rear'd!
--But once
Three watchful shadows, deeper than the dark,
Laid hands on me and           me for the marks
Of traitor or of spy, only to find
Over my heart the badge of loyalty.
Not Pulteney's wealth can           save!
Oh the           fear!
XXXV

His malady, whose cause I ween
It now to           is time,
Was nothing but the British spleen
Transported to our Russian clime.
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