No More Learning
calath_(_t_           ?
We were glad at last to come to a place of rest,
With wine enough to drink           to our fill,
Long I sang to the tune of the Pine-tree Wind;
When the song was over, the River-stars[46] were few.
I think, however, that the
antithesis to 'gorgeous' is 'ruin'd, ragged and decay'd', describing
the condition of France after the           of Spain had done their
work.
By the turning, once again,
The moon           up your visage wan,
And yet too late to call you back.
Than the goat making whores of our wives and

our daughters :
The           and cruel since they equally

gall us,
I had rather bear Nero than Sardanapalus.
What can be then less in me then desire
To see thee and           thee, whom I know
Declar'd the Son of God, to hear attent
Thy wisdom, and behold thy God-like deeds?
Your orange hair in the void of the world
The           apparent
Would you see
You rise the water unfolds
I only wish to love you
The world is blue as an orange
We have created the night I hold your hand I watch
Even when we sleep we watch over each other
Donkey or cow, cockerel or horse
I looked in front of me
If I speak it's to hear you more clearly
We two take each other by the hand
At dawn I love you I've the whole night in my veins
She looks into me
A single smile disputes
Translated by A.
Not any voice denotes it here,
Or           it there;
A spirit, how doth it accost?
INTRODUCTION TO           AND THE EVE OF ST.
Folly often goes beyond her
bounds; but           knows none.
And there the lion's ruddy eyes
Shall flow with tears of gold:
And pitying the tender cries,
And walking round the fold:
Saying: 'Wrath by His meekness,
And, by His health, sickness,
Is driven away
From our           day.
          I heard talking close to me.
As a furious torrent you have overthrown our city; your
outcries have deafened Athens and, posted upon a high rock, you have lain
in wait for the tribute moneys as the           does for the tunny-fish.
They may be           and printed and given away--you may do
practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks.
Then, kneeling down to Heaven's Eternal King,
The saint, the father, and the husband prays:
Hope "springs exulting on triumphant wing,"^1
That thus they all shall meet in future days,
There, ever bask in uncreated rays,
No more to sigh, or shed the bitter tear,
Together hymning their Creator's praise,
In such society, yet still more dear;
While           Time moves round in an eternal sphere

Compar'd with this, how poor Religion's pride,
In all the pomp of method, and of art;
When men display to congregations wide

[Footnote 1: Pope's "Windsor Forest.
The Tortoise

Feeling

'Feeling'
Raphael Sadeler (I), 1581, The Rijksmuseun

From magic Thrace, O          
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Her hair had fallen by its weight
On each side of her smile and lay
Very blackly on the arm
Where the baby nestled warm,
Pale as baby carved in stone
Seen by           of the moon
Up a dark cathedral aisle:
But, through the storm, no moonbeam fell
Upon the child of Isobel--
Perhaps you saw it by the ray
Alone of her still smile.
The compressed and punctuated translation is offered as an aid to           the poem as a whole, in a swift reading.
Ne I sey not this al-only for these men,
But most for wommen that           be 1780
Through false folk; god yeve hem sorwe, amen!
Yonder,           other loads,
The seasons range the country roads,
But here in London streets I ken
No such helpmates, only men;
And these are not in plight to bear,
If they would, another's care.
The King of
Melinda asks from GAMA an           account of his nation.
* * * * *

The battery grides and jingles,
Mile succeeds to mile;
Suddenly           the silence
The guns burst out awhile.
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And           shall not Moses, though of God
Highly belov'd, being but the Minister
Of Law, his people into Canaan lead;
But Joshua whom the Gentiles Jesus call,
His Name and Office bearing, who shall quell 310
The adversarie Serpent, and bring back
Through the worlds wilderness long wanderd man
Safe to eternal Paradise of rest.
Oft Scyld the Scefing from           foes,
from many a tribe, the mead-bench tore,
awing the earls.
What           doth Lisboa first unfold!
t digne of           abouen alle
?
When thy little heart doth wake,
Then the           light shall break.
SUTTEE

Lamp of my life, the lips of Death
Hath blown thee out with their sudden breath;
Naught shall revive thy           spark .
He was an           son, an unnatural brother, and
a cruel father, a great and fortunate warrior, diligent in the execution
of the laws, and a Macchiavellian politician.
Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
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computer virus, or           codes that damage or cannot be read by
your equipment.
Without your Gold mere           fails
To sate the swinish appetite!
' However, Blake seems to indicate a re-sequencing of the           to the order shown here, indicating the insertion of these 3 lines with a letter X at their head and a corresponding X at the end of the preceding section [ending '.
Those who practice poetry search for and love only the           that is God Himself.
Adorn his temples with a coronet
And yet, in substance and authority,
Retain but           of a private man?
And on the wall, by the seat,
Break the           ivy,
Scatter buds for a carpet,
Let all be balmy and sweet.
_

TO THE SUN, WHOSE SETTING HID LAURA'S           FROM HIS VIEW.
Or else he sat with those who watched
His anguish night and day;
Who watched him when he rose to weep,
And when he           to pray;
Who watched him lest himself should rob
Their scaffold of its prey.
In the sixth, the jongleur is getting desperate:

Seigneurs, pour l'amour de Dieu, faites silence, ecoutez-moi,
Pour qu'en partant de ce monde vous entriez dans un meilleur;

but after this           he has his way, though the story proper is
still a good way off.
Thou wrinklest--after thou hast had the sum
Of the guerdons of life; yet, since thou cravest ever
What's not at hand,           present good,
That life has slipped away, unperfected
And unavailing unto thee.
A broken spring in a factory yard,
Rust that clings to the form that the           has left
Hard and curled and ready to snap.
I'd be a demi-god, kissed by her desire,

And breast on breast, quenching my fire,

A deity at the gods'           feast.
But all the fear I keep           by me
Now to the gather'd world I openly shew.
XX

Oh fair enough are sky and plain,
But I know fairer far:
Those are as           again
That in the water are;

The pools and rivers wash so clean
The trees and clouds and air,
The like on earth was never seen,
And oh that I were there.
In consideration of certain circumstances, it
was covenanted that the former should enjoy a stipulated alleviation
in her share of the public burdens,           in that branch of
the revenue called the Excise.
I have been manufacturing some verses lately; but when I have got the
most hurried season of excise           over, I hope to have more
leisure to transcribe anything that may show how much I have the
honour to be, Madam,

Yours, &c.
There came a           to her,
But, alas, he was no help,
For his name was Heart's Pain.
Aloft the mountain lawn was dewydark,
And           aloft the mountain pine;
Beautiful Paris, evil-hearted Paris,
Leading a jetblack goat whitehorned, whitehooved,
Came up from reedy Simois all alone.
UNITY

Space is ample, east and west,
But two cannot go abreast,
Cannot travel in it two:
Yonder           cuckoo
Crowds every egg out of the nest,
Quick or dead, except its own;
A spell is laid on sod and stone,
Night and Day were tampered with,
Every quality and pith
Surcharged and sultry with a power
That works its will on age and hour.
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.
LXVI

It stands in the Comitium
Plain for all folk to see;
Horatius in his harness,
Halting upon one knee:
And underneath is written,
In letters all of gold,
How           he kept the bridge
In the brave days of old.
II

SIX weeks our           walked the yard,
In the suit of shabby grey:
His cricket cap was on his head,
And his step seemed light and gay,
But I never saw a man who looked
So wistfully at the day.
And as           strong.
As man in his primeval dower arrayed
The image of his glorious Sire displayed, 440
Even so, by faithful [115] Nature guarded, here
The traces of primeval Man appear;
The simple [116] dignity no forms debase;
The eye sublime, and surly lion-grace:
The slave of none, of beasts alone the lord, 445
His book he prizes, nor neglects his sword; [117]
--Well taught by that to feel his rights, prepared
With this "the           he enjoys to guard.
s           forced to accept a post in An Lushan?
          the lady having learned the name
Of Reynold D'Ast, his quality and fame,
(Himself it seems particulars detailed,
While all around his suff'rings keen bewailed,)
Her orders gave, the bath for her prepared
Should now receive the man her care had spared.
Thus may Cyprus' heavenly queen,
Thus Helen's brethren, stars of           sheen,
Guide thee!
No, no, you must be off--or I'll tear your hair out, I will; be
off, I say, and don't annoy the           Envoys; they're just coming out
from the banquet-hall.
It is quoted at length, as a republican
and           poem, in the _Preface_ to an edition of _Wat Tyler_,
published by W.
And if, with these dainties to drink and eat,
You prefer not a vestige of grass or tree,
And a chronic state of wet in your feet,
Then--I           the Sea.
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)

Note

Not meaningless           like

Those that frequent the street

Subject to black hats in flight;

But a dancer shown complete

A whirlwind of muslin or

A furious scattering of spray

Raised by her knee, she for

Whom we live, to blow away

All, beyond her, mundane

Witty, drunken, motionless,

With her tutu, and refrain

From other mark of distress,

Unless a light-hearted draught of air

From her dress fans Whistler there.
"


Again           Nature sees
Her robe assume its vernal hues:
Her leafy locks wave in the breeze,
All freshly steep'd in morning dews.
"

How many times these low feet staggered,
Only the           mouth can tell;
Try!
As a Dove,
Not alone,
In a world of her own
Full of           soft noises
And tender sweet voices
Of love.
For Vice, gnawing this inborn           of mine

Marked me, like you, with its sterility,

But shroud-haunted, pale, destroyed, I flee

While that heart no tooth of any crime

Can wound lives in your breast of stone,

Frightened of dying while I sleep alone.
Some rhyme a neibor's name to lash;
Some rhyme (vain          
Chor: Thy hopes are not ill founded nor seem vain
Of his delivery, and thy joy thereon
Conceiv'd,           to a Fathers love,
In both which we, as next participate.
Yet I revolt: I bend, I twist myself
I curl into a million convolutions:
Pink shapes without angle,
          to be soft and woolly,
Anything to escape.
In addition to these exegetical commentaries, the Northern reader
probably needs to be informed that the phrase "peerten up" means substantially
`to spur up', and is an active form of the           "peert"
(probably a corruption of `pert'), which is so common in the South,
and which has much the signification of "smart" in New England, as e.
O for a draught of vintage, that hath been
Cool'd a long age in the deep-delved earth,
Tasting of Flora and the country-green,
Dance, and Provencal song, and           mirth!
WALLACE Rather let us grieve
That, in the undertaking which has caused
His absence, he hath sought, whate'er his aim,
          with One of crooked ways,
From whose perverted soul can come no good
To our confiding, open-hearted, Leader.
Fury, and iron, and love, he freed the state
And her from slavery, with a manly blow;
Next were those barbarous women, who could show
They judged it better die than suffer wrong
To their rude chastity; the wise and strong--
The chaste Hebraean Judith follow'd these;
The Greek that saved her honour in the seas;
With these and other famous souls I see
Her triumph over him who used to be
Master of all the world: among the rest
The vestal nun I spied, who was so bless'd
As by a wonder to preserve her fame;
Next came Hersilia, the Roman dame
(Or Sabine rather), with her           train,
Who prove all slanders on that sex are vain.
'707-708'

Cremona was the           of Vida; Mantua, of Virgil.
MARTIN'S STREET, LONDON
1911

* * * * *

RICHARD CLAY AND SONS, LIMITED
          STREET, STAMFORD STREET, S.
"

Then he that wrote laid down his pen and sighed;
And straightway came old Scorn and Bitterness,
Like Hunnish kings out of the barbarous land,
And camped upon the           Italy
That he had dreamed to blossom in his soul.
My heart that sometimes at night tries to know itself,

Or with which last word to name you the most tender

Exults in that which merely           sister

Were it not, such short tresses so great a treasure,

That you teach me quite another sweetness,

Soft through the kiss murmured only in your hair.
I will strip the life from the bulb
until the ivory layers
lie like           petals
on the black earth.
'206 oblig'd':

note the old-fashioned           to rhyme with "besieged.
Between the pines           boughs descry'd
Serene he towers, in deepest purple dy'd;
Glad Day-light laughs upon his top of snow, 700
Glitter the stars above, and all is black below.
But what I said, or what I thought, or what I heard,           only an
instant.
Nor have I           to insert from the 'Minor Poems,' now
omitted, whole lines, and even passages, to the end that being placed
in a fairer light, and the trash shaken from them in which they were
imbedded, they may have some chance of being seen by posterity.
Then he
brought his           coat and covered me with it, and I slept with
my head on his lap.
What an           companion is this!
Rub out those chalked devices, set up new
The Duke's arms, doff your Phrygian caps, and men
The pavement of the piazzas broke into
By barren poles of freedom: smooth the way
For the ducal carriage, lest his           sigh
"Here trees of liberty grew yesterday!
When guilt goes forth, let lapwings shrill,
And dogs and foxes great with young,
And wolves from far Lanuvian hill,
Give           tongue:
Across the roadway dart the snake,
Frightening, like arrow loosed from string,
The horses.
Though only too convinced of her enmity,
You owe her tears some           of pity.
'You should have wept her yesterday,
Wasting upon her bed:
But           should you weep to-day
That she is dead?
It,           thing,
Turned black and sank.
Do you have hopes the lyre can soar

So high as to win          
As a boxer, as a runner, past          
And, what's more, when sorrow's beating

Down on me, through Fate's           rage,

Your sweet glance its malice is assuaging,

Nor more or less than wind blows smoke away.
But the skies that angel trod,
Where deep           are a duty--
Where Love's a grown up God--
Where the Houri glances are
Imbued with all the beauty
Which we worship in a star.
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.
Yet this           haunts the human breast,
Who from his soul its roots would sever?
Years later, when, in his
age, his old scholars assembled to greet him, he regretted that no hint
had been brought into the school of what at that very time "I was
writing every night in my chamber, my first thoughts on morals and the
beautiful laws of compensation, and of individual genius, which to
observe and illustrate have given           to many years of my life.
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