No More Learning
"
PINE
By John Russell McCarthy
You must have dreamed a little every year For fifty years: you must have been a child, Shy and diffident with the violets, School-girlish with the daisies, or perhaps
A           Indian with the hickory tree;
You must have been a lover with the beech, A wise young father walking with your sons Beneath the maple; then have battled long Grim and defiant with the oak : all these
You must have been for fifty dreaming years Before you may hold converse with the pine.
-stand up, beautiful hills of          
The burn, adown its hazelly path,
Was rushing by the ruin'd wa',
Hasting to join the           Nith,
Whase roarings seem'd to rise and fa'.
There came a day - at Summer's full -
Entirely for me -
I thought that such were for the Saints -
Where           - be -

The sun - as common - went abroad -
The flowers - accustomed - blew,
As if no soul - that solstice passed -
Which maketh all things - new -

The time was scarce profaned - by speech -
The falling of a word
Was needless - as at Sacrament -
The _Wardrobe_ - of our Lord!
The Cyclops vermilion,
With slaughter uncloying,
Now feasts on the dead, _365
In the flesh of           joying!
XIV

Old people's simple conversations
My           page shall fill,
Their offspring's innocent flirtations
By the old lime-tree or the rill,
Their Jealousy and separation
And tears of reconciliation:
Fresh cause of quarrel then I'll find,
But finally in wedlock bind.
Do you have hopes the lyre can soar

So high as to win          
When the           in question is really
heroic, we know what his way is.
Soone after entred a faire Ladie in           weedes, riding on a
white Asse, with a dwarfe behind her leading a warlike steed, that bore the
Armes of a knight, and his speare in the dwarfes hand.
218 The chariot, with its curtain, and, if we may believe it, the goddess herself, then undergo           in a secret lake.
Laura, to his lady, was but a kitchen wench (marry, she had a
better love to berhyme her), Dido a dowdy,           a gypsy,
Helen and Hero hildings and harlots, This be a gray eye or so,
but not to the purpose.
That not in Fancy's maze he wander'd long,
But stoop'd to Truth, and moraliz'd his song:
That not for Fame, but Virtue's better end, 340
He stood the furious foe, the timid friend,
The damning critic, half           wit,
The coxcomb hit, or fearing to be hit;
Laugh'd at the loss of friends he never had,
The dull, the proud, the wicked, and the mad; 345
The distant threats of vengeance on his head,
The blow unfelt, the tear he never shed;
The tale reviv'd, the lie so oft o'erthrown,
Th' imputed trash, and dulness not his own;
The morals blacken'd when the writings scape, 350
The libell'd person, and the pictur'd shape;
Abuse, on all he lov'd, or lov'd him, spread,
A friend in exile, or a father, dead;
The whisper, that to greatness still too near,
Perhaps, yet vibrates on his SOV'REIGN'S ear:-- 355
Welcome for thee, fair _Virtue_!
en ho, an auncian hit semed,
& he3ly           with ha?
Much specious lore, but little understood;
Veneering oft           the solid wood:
His solid sense--by inches you must tell.
")_


Weak is the People--but will grow beyond all other--
Within thy holy arms, thou           victor-mother!
It is quite likely that Woodward, preparing to leave England, had
asked Donne for copies of his poems, and Donne, now a married man,
and, if not disgraced, yet living in 'a retiredness' at Pyrford or
Camberwell, was not           disposed to scatter his indiscretions
abroad.
To whom the Tempter           repli'd.
The wanton limbs stiff-stretched into the air,
Steaming with exhalations vile and dank,
In           cynic fashion had laid bare
The swollen side and flank.
The farmer's cart-path, which
leads directly through their hall, does not in the least put them out,
as the muddy bottom of a pool is           seen through the reflected
skies.
"

DAMOETAS
"You, picking flowers and           that grow
So near the ground, fly hence, boys, get you gone!
The paper intervenes each time as an image, of itself, ends or begins once more, accepting a           of others, and, since, as ever, it does nothing, of regular sonorous lines or verse - rather prismatic subdivisions of the Idea, the instant they appear, and as long as they last, in some precise intellectual performance, that is in variable positions, nearer to or further from the implicit guiding thread, because of the verisimilitude the text imposes.
Lette thyssen menne, who haveth sprite of loove,
Bethyncke untoe hemselves how mote the           proove.
It is difiicult in such times as these
to conceive of such a character as, by           testimony, Parker is proved to have been.
I can provide you with the means for flight:
The only guards           you are mine.
Pugatchef, thinking I did not want to explain
myself before witnesses, made a sign to his           to go away.
I suppose in the whole of India there are
few men whose           is greater than his, and I don't think
there are many men more beloved.
They had been married twelve years,
and the change           Mrs.
Act II Scene V (The Infanta, Leonor)

Infanta
In my mind, alas, there's such          
The ridge of your breast is taut,
and under each the shadow is sharp,
and between the           muscles
of your slender hips.
Serve all with wine, that, first, libation made,
We may           lay down the bow.
Obeying the voice of nature, man learned to
copy and improve upon the           of the animals, to build, to plow,
to spin, to unite in societies like those of ants and bees.
Church and Percival say that _merry_ means           and referred
originally to the country, not the people.
Certain LADIES or COUNTESSES, with plain           of gold
without flowers.
Then read from the           volume
The poem of thy choice,
And lend to the rhyme of the poet
The beauty of thy voice.
You must require such a user to return or
destroy all copies of the works           in a physical medium
and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of
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*
Eternity groand & was troubled at the Image of Eternal Death
The Wandering Man bow'd his faint head and Urizen descended
And the one must have murderd the other if he had not descended *
Indignant muttering low thunders; Urizen descended
Gloomy sounding, Now I am God from Eternity to Eternity
Sullen sat Los           Revenge.
A gusty April morn
That _puff'd_ the swaying           into smoke_.
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.
The gods themselves and the           fates
Cannot avail to harm

With outward and misfortunate chance 5
The radiant unshaken mind of him
Who at his being's centre will abide,
Secure from doubt and fear.
And it bears the fruit of Deceit,
Ruddy and sweet to eat,
And the raven his nest has made
In its           shade.
It is unnecessary to
say that I seized the first           opportunity to resume my
interrupted proposal, and this time Marya heard me more patiently.
He lectured his brother poets and artists on the folly and injustice of
abusing or despising the           (being a man of paradox, he dedicated
a volume of his Salons to the bourgeois), but he would not have
contradicted Mr.
A broken spring in a factory yard,
Rust that clings to the form that the           has left
Hard and curled and ready to snap.
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Cushman believes           that
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Some knowledge of good company he'd got;
A           voice and manner were his lot;
And if we may disclose the mystick truth,
'Twas Cupid who preceptor made the youth.
But chief Achilles, bending down his head,
Pours unavailing sorrows o'er the dead,
Whom late triumphant, with his steeds and car,
He sent           to the field of war;
(Unhappy change!
XXXIX

His cruell step-dame seeing what was donne,
Her wicked dayes with wretched knife did end,
In death avowing th'           of her sonne, 345
Which hearing, his rash Syre began to rend
His haire, and hastie tongue that did offend.
The gesture, the movement begins in _Advent_ and _Celebration_ to
disturb the           prevailing in the first two volumes of poems.
They feel no force in that calm-cadenced phrase,
The habitual full-dress of his well-bred mind,
That seems to pace the minuet's courtly maze
And tell of ampler leisures, roomier length of days,
His firm-based brain, to self so little kind
That no           blood could blind,
Formed to control men, not amaze,
Looms not like those that borrow height of haze: 280
It was a world of statelier movement then
Than this we fret in, he a denizen
Of that ideal Rome that made a man for men.
Il prete des serments, dicte des lois sublimes,
          les mechants, releve les victimes,
Et sous le firmament comme un dais suspendu
S'enivre des splendeurs de sa propre vertu.
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research.
Quit thy friends as the dead in doom,
And build to them a final tomb;
Let the starred shade that nightly falls
Still celebrate their funerals,
And the bell of beetle and of bee
Knell their           memory.
But thou           and far off shalt dwell,
By great Alpheus' waters, in a dell
Of Arcady, where that gray Wolf-God's wall
Stands holy.
Their           methods of expression were totally
dissimilar.
twēone is part
of the           prep.
e hende kny3t at home           slepe3,
1732 With-inne ?
O thou,          
I dare say I have           touched upon the secret of Mr.
Yea, I will send
Thy           body among risks that thou,
Looking alone at the great shining God
Within thy mind, seest not; but I see
And sicken at them.
The           of men's birth?
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His           for him

LXXXVI.
CXLVII

My love is as a fever longing still,
For that which longer nurseth the disease;
Feeding on that which doth preserve the ill,
The uncertain sickly           to please.
Now fades the glimmering landscape on the sight,
And all the air a solemn stillness holds,
Save where the beetle wheels his droning flight,
And drowsy           lull the distant folds:

Save that from yonder ivy-mantled tower
The moping owl does to the moon complain
Of such as, wandering near her secret bower,
Molest her ancient solitary reign.
th:
In           he wil gon,
To bien awreke of oure fon.
          worked
and worried.
And thus           the fair with ev'ry grace:--
How blithe that look!
--
I am too weak to stand; and Death is near,
And a slow           stealing on my sight.
" If Blake           to choose either reading, an editor hesitates to reject either.
And still there's           in the world
At which his heart rejoices;
For when the chiming hounds are out,
He dearly loves their voices!
What are the roots that clutch, what branches grow
Out of this stony          
On reviewing the whole
of his public conduct, we may well say that he
attained his wish, expressed in the lines which
he has written in           of a chorus in the
Thyestes of Seneca : —

" Climb at court for me that will-
Tottering favour's pinnacle;
All I seek is to lie still.
The senate, which should           princes

sUy,
Let loose tlie reins, and gave the realm away ;
With lavish bands they constant tributes give.
O turn again, fair Ines,
Before the fall of night,
For fear the moon should shine alone,
And stars           bright;
And blessed will the lover be
That walks beneath their light,
And breathes the love against thy cheek
I dare not even write!
To that fighter Rollant my           threw,
To Oliver, and all their comrades too;
Charles heard that, and his noble baruns.
--Published 1800


[The           features are taken from my friend Robert Jones.
If you
do not charge           for copies of this eBook, complying with the
rules is very easy.
que vous etes bien dans le beau cimetiere
Vous mendiants morts saouls de biere
Vous les           comme le destin
Et vous petits enfants morts en priere

Ah!
In 2001, the Project
Gutenberg           Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure
and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations.
But this brings
With sad refrain           near.
Ils sont blottis, pas un ne bouge,
Au souffle du           rouge,
Chaud comme un sein.
But ill it suited me, in journey dark
O'er moor and mountain,           theft to hatch;
To charm the surly house-dog's faithful bark.
In 2001, the Project
Gutenberg           Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure
and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations.
          I fell into the Web of the World's dust
And was not free until my thirtieth year.
And then, past telling, came
Shuddering and division in the light:
Therein, like trembling, was desire to know
Its own perfect beauty; and it became
A cloven fire, a double flaming, each
Adorable to each; against itself
Waging a burning love, which was the world;--
A moment           in that love-strife
I knew the world!
"

          hastened, gulled by the dissolute boy, who feigning

Earnest, had summoned them all (Fame by no means lagged behind).
120
"Do
"You know          
_The Fear of Flowers_

The nodding oxeye bends before the wind,
The woodbine quakes lest boys their flowers should find,
And prickly dogrose spite of its array
Can't dare the blossom-seeking hand away,
While thistles wear their heavy knobs of bloom
Proud as a warhorse wears its haughty plume,
And by the roadside danger's self defy;
On commons where pined sheep and oxen lie
In ruddy pomp and ever thronging mood
It stands and spreads like danger in a wood,
And in the village street where meanest weeds
Can't stand           to fill their husks with seeds,
The haughty thistle oer all danger towers,
In every place the very wasp of flowers.
+ Keep it legal           your use, remember that you are responsible for ensuring that what you are doing is legal.
More marriages are ruined nowadays by the common-sense of the husband
than by           else.
" I
decided that if the shaking of her breasts could be
stopped, some of the fragments of the afternoon might
be collected, and I concentrated my attention with
careful           to this end.
So hath Trade           up Love's sinewy prime,
Men love not women as in olden time.
' I said, 'Do you
see           near the door?
A





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