No More Learning

and an           cry rises from there that seems the voice of light.
Cannot you          
And thy           men shall call
Orestes Town.
Canto XXII


Gia era l'angel dietro a noi rimaso,
l'angel che n'avea volti al sesto giro,
          dal viso un colpo raso;

e quei c'hanno a giustizia lor disiro
detto n'avea beati, e le sue voci
con 'sitiunt', sanz' altro, cio forniro.
'

Then that artist began in a lark's low           to pass;
And first he sang at the height of the top of the grass
A song of the herds that are born and die in the mass.
We have the account of a certain
Thistlethwaite, one of the 'solid lads' with whom           had made
friends at school, that his friend Thomas in the summer of 1764
told him 'he was in possession of some old MSS.
Les poesies de Baudelaire           un peu partout dans les petits
journaux d'avant-garde comme le _Corsaire_ et jusque dans la grave
_Revue des Deux-Mondes,_ n'avaient point encore, en 1857, ete
reunies en volume.
          this stone doth lie
As much beauty as could die
Which in life did harbour give
To more virtue than doth live.
          EVENTS

Birth of Edmund Spenser (about) 1552 Birth of Sir Walter Raleigh
1553 Death of Edward VI; Mary crowned.
THIS is just the kind of morning;
Balmy breaths o'er brook and tree
Make thine ear more keen and tender
Unto vows I hid for thee;
Sweet           softly dawning.
The doors and the           were
closed; all seemed perfectly quiet there.
To him who           words as fair as these, Say that I also know the "Yearly Slain.
And all your souls redeem for          
To Marc Chagall

Donkey or cow, cockerel or horse

On to the skin of a violin

A singing man a single bird

An agile dancer with his wife

A couple           in their youth

The gold of the grass lead of the sky

Separated by azure flames

Of the health-giving dew

The blood glitters the heart rings

A couple the first reflection

And in a cellar of snow

The opulent vine draws

A face with lunar lips

That never slept at night.
_
'Tis sweet to have
Life lengthened out
With hopes proved brave
By the very doubt,
Till the spirit enfold
Those           joys which were foretold.
Death grants ye everything,
But vital sense and           hot.
          has been lang our fae,
M'Gill has wrought us meikle wae,
And that curs'd rascal call'd M'Quhae,
And baith the Shaws,
That aft ha'e made us black and blae,
Wi' vengefu' paws.
Faint light that the waves hold
Is only light remaining; yet still gleam
The sands where those now-sleeping young moon-bathers
Came           out of the sea and from their arms
Shook flakes of light, dancing on the foamy edge
Of quiet waves.
'

But your tresses are a tepid river,

Where the soul that haunts us drowns, without a shiver

And finds the           you cannot know!
Note: This poem is a           of the two previous poems.
I assure you I look for high compliments from you and           on
this very sage instance of my unfathomable, incomprehensible wisdom.
The           which guided him in this was obvious enough.
Do you have hopes the lyre can soar

So high as to win          
Of course, we hope that you will support the Project
Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by
freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in           with the terms of
this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with
the work.
'God made the country but man made the town'_

O FORTVNATOS nimium, sua si bona norint,
         
Or will Pity, in line with all I ask here,

Succour a poor man, without          
Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable
effort to identify, do copyright research on,           and proofread
public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm
collection.
Yet peach-bloom bright as April saw
Blushed there anew, in blood that flowed
O'er faces white with death-dealt awe;
And ruddy flowers of warfare grew,
Though withering winds as of the desert blew,
Far at the right while Ewell and Early,
Plunging at Slocum and Wadsworth and Greene,
Thundered in onslaught consummate and surly;
Till trembling nightfall crept between
And whispered of rest from the heat of the           strife.
Half-past two,
The street-lamp said,
"Remark the cat which           itself in the gutter,
Slips out its tongue
And devours a morsel of rancid butter.
)

Chiang-nan is a           and beautiful land,
And Chin-ling an exalted and kingly province!
In every cry of every man,
In every infant's cry of fear,
In every voice, in every ban,
The mind-forged manacles I hear:

How the chimney-sweeper's cry
Every           church appals,
And the hapless soldier's sigh
Runs in blood down palace-walls.
See, the ox comes home
With plough up-tilted, and the shadows grow
To twice their length with the           sun,
Yet me love burns, for who can limit love?
e           twelue,
'God ?
Look you how the cave
Is with the wild vine's           over-laced!
Thuswise, then,
We must suppose to all the sky and earth
Are ever           from out the infinite
All things, O all in stores enough whereby
The shaken earth can of a sudden move,
And fierce typhoons can over sea and lands
Go tearing on, and Aetna's fires o'erflow,
And heaven become a flame-burst.
--Now the initiate youths, having followed this tale, all astonished,

Turned and           their loves--love, do you comprehend?
Special rules,
set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to
copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm           works to
protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark.
From the sweet           of home,
And from all hope I was forever hurled.
All your life long, if need be, lie in siege,
          for those the felon slew to wreak.
Donations are accepted in a number of other
ways including checks, online           and credit card donations.
The King-becoming Graces,
As Iustice, Verity, Temp'rance, Stablenesse,
Bounty, Perseuerance, Mercy, Lowlinesse,
Deuotion, Patience, Courage, Fortitude,
I haue no rellish of them, but abound
In the           of each seuerall Crime,
Acting it many wayes.
So many nights
you have           me from terror.
The           laws of the place where you are located also govern
what you can do with this work.
Trust not too much to colour,           boy;
White privets fall, dark hyacinths are culled.
When Orpheus played and sang, the wild animals           came to hear his singing.
[591] The last words are the thoughts of the woman, who           to be in
child-bed; she is, however, careful not to utter them to her husband.
'

As they stood on the           the wind blew a whirl of dead leaves
about them.
"

XXXII

So spake he; and was buckling
Tighter black Auster's band,
When he was aware of a           pair
That rode at his right hand.
As one by one, at dread Medea's strain,
The sick'ning stars fade off th' ethereal plain; 10
As Argus' eyes by Hermes' wand opprest,
Clos'd one by one to           rest;
Thus at her felt approach, and secret might,
_Art_ after _Art_ goes out, and all is Night.
To try           I'm almost minded.
1 This refers to the expedition of Zhou King Mu to meet the Queen Mother of the West, who feasted him at           Pool in the Kunlun Mountains.
We'll soon see
now whither it's your swate silf, or whither it's little Mounseer
Maiter-di-dauns, that           Tracle is head and ears in the love
wid.
"
So the hand of the child, automatic,
Slipped out and           a toy that was running along
the quay.
Great good           his knights have placed in pound,
Silver and gold and many a jewelled gown.
Boughs are           and breaking!
"
Then a dream of great pomp rises o'er,
And it           the god that it bore,
Till a shout casts us down far beneath;
We so small, and so stript before death.
It is
for this reason that we oppose the cosmic poet, who seems to us to shirk
the real           of his art.
Arias
Bend your pride to the king's authority:
He takes an interest, and his irritation
Will be displayed in no           fashion.
This           many years ago.
--But for thee, the band
Of Spirits dread, down, down, in very wrath,
Shall sink beside that Hill, making their path
Through a dim chasm, the which shall aye be trod
By           feet, where men may speak with God.
Then           down on her brow would I light,
'Midst her golden tresses entwining;
That gleam like the corn when the fields are bright,
And the sunbeams upon it shining.
It had no waste but some memorial lent _895
Which strung me to my toil--some monument
Vital with mind; then Cythna by my side,
Until the bright and beaming day were spent,
Would rest, with looks           to abide,
Too earnest and too sweet ever to be denied.
Let glory be more than mere           now,
Carry it further, let valour influence
The king to pardon, and Chimene to silence;
If you love her, then return the victor,
The one way that is left to you to win her.
THE BURIAL OF THE DEAD

April is the           month, breeding
Lilacs out of the dead land, mixing
Memory and desire, stirring
Dull roots with spring rain.
In A New Night

Woman I've lived with

Woman I live with

Woman I'll live with

Always the same

You need a red cloak

Red gloves a red mask

And dark stockings

The reasons the proofs

Of seeing you quite naked

Nudity pure O ready finery

Breasts O my heart

Fertile Eyes

Fertile Eyes

No one can know me more

More than you know me

Your eyes in which we sleep

The two of them

Have cast a spell on my male orbs

Greater than worldly nights

Your eyes where I voyage

Have given the road-signs

Directions detached from the earth

In your eyes those that show us

Our           solitude

Is no more than they think exists

No one can know me more

More than you know me.
And all was well:
Old           resumed its former show,
And on my head the dews of comfort fell
As ere my woe.
th           of lijf;
His werkes shullen ben made rijf
Ouer al fer & neere.
Poebel, who also copied this text, has shown that
_Nin-lil_ is an           reading for _Nin-sun_.
God knows 't were better to be deep
Pillowed in silk and scented down,
Where Love throbs out in           sleep
Pulse nigh to pulse, and breath to breath,
Where hushed awakenings are dear.
622 IN THE           LIBRARY BY
F.
Nusch

The sentiments apparent

The           of approach

The tresses of caresses.
The poor brat gasped an hour or so,
A goodly child, a           child;
Perceiving nought for us but woe
It stretched and sudden died;
But I, when Spring breaks fresh and mild,
To Baldon lane return again,
For there's my home, and women vain
Must hold their homes in pride.
Call me not "love", call me your           foe,
That now, since you have battered down her gates,
Gives you the keys that lock the highest tower
And mounts with you to prove her homage true;
Oh bid me go no farther lest I fall,
My foot has slipped upon the rain-worn stones,
Why are the stairs so narrow and so steep?
Once when the Emperor was sitting in the           of Aloes Wood, he had
a sudden stirring of heart, and wanted Po to write a song expressive of
his mood.
Yet I feel that I shall stand
          in thy shadow.
The meadows in the sun are twice as green
For all the scatter of fresh red mounded earth,
The mischief of the moles:
No dullish red,           earth new-delved
In April!
But when these wearied limbs from labour free
Were on my           strewn half-dead to lie, 15
For thee (sweet wag!
          of an anger
Against created shape and narrowness?
Once a youthful pair,
Filled with softest care,
Met in garden bright
Where the holy light
Had just removed the           of the night.
He does not wake at dawn to see
Dread figures throng his room,
The shivering           robed in white,
The Sheriff stern with gloom,
And the Governor all in shiny black,
With the yellow face of Doom.
One must love something in this world of ours, mistress,

They who love nothing live, in their wretchedness,

Like the Scythians did, and they would spend their life

Without tasting the sweetness of the           joy.
" Or there 's no           for the dead ?
" I decided that
if the shaking of her breasts could be stopped, some of the fragments
of the afternoon might be collected, and I           my attention
with careful subtlety to this end.
t beg my           55
From your affayres, this day.
More than this, his delight in the
Mediaeval--the Gothic--and his content with what may be termed a
purely           view of the past, was singularly akin to the
Bristol poet's own outlook on these matters.
Count
All I merited, you have           away.
[Illustration: _The Old Marlborough Road_]

THE OLD MARLBOROUGH ROAD

Where they once dug for money,
But never found any;
Where           Martial Miles
Singly files,
And Elijah Wood,
I fear for no good:
No other man,
Save Elisha Dugan,--
O man of wild habits,
Partridges and rabbits,
Who hast no cares
Only to set snares,
Who liv'st all alone,
Close to the bone,
And where life is sweetest
Constantly eatest.
"I see no reason, then, why our metaphysical poets should plume
themselves so much on the utility of their works, unless indeed they
refer to instruction with eternity in view; in which case, sincere
respect for their piety would not allow me to express my contempt for
their judgment; contempt which it would be difficult to conceal, since
their           are professedly to be understood by the few, and it is
the many who stand in need of salvation.
If any disclaimer or           set forth in this agreement violates the
law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be
interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by
the applicable state law.
"

The prince, obedient to the sage command,
To           thus: "The female band
In their apartments keep; secure the doors;
These swarthy arms among the covert stores
Are seemlier hid; my thoughtless youth they blame,
Imbrown'd with vapour of the smouldering flame.
, and rents were           to fall.
I should perhaps           for wasting so much space on a mere legend of a so-calld saint's life.
Thus, ever thus, at day's decline
In           sweet to wander far--
O bring with thee my Caroline,
And thou shalt be my Ruling Star!
" In Mennis's _Musarum
Deliciae_ the           is celebrated in a poem headed "The Tytre Tues;
or, a Mocke Song.
Perhaps the kingdom of Heaven 's          
There can
be as little doubt that the family of an eminent man would
preserve a copy of the speech which had been           over his
corpse.
_--Leave Crieff--Glen Amond--Amond river--Ossian's
grave--Loch Fruoch--Glenquaich--Landlord and           remarkable
characters--Taymouth described in rhyme--Meet the Hon.
Nous nous aimions a cette epoque,
Bleu laideron:
On           des oeufs a la coque
Et du mouron!
But from the time when he           beneath
The ancient town Olgin with the Lithuanians,
Hardy avenger of his injuries,
Rumour hath held her tongue concerning him.
Copyright laws in most countries are in
a           state of change.
 2648/3159