No More Learning
          his ridges are not curls
And ripples of an inland mere?
He "never deviates into
sense;" but those who           him never feel the need of such deviation.
•
Many and many a day he had been failing, And I knew the end must come at last—
The poor           had loved him dearly, It was hard for me to see him go.
To Gammer Gurton if it give the bays,
And yet deny the           husband praise.
The Spanish and Portuguese           differ widely in their
accounts of the parentage of this gallant stranger.
>>

PAUL DE CASSAGNAC _(Le Pays)_


Morts de quatre-vingt-douze et de quatre-vingt-treize
Qui, pales du baiser fort de la liberte,
Calmes, sous vos sabots, brisiez le joug qui pese
Sur l'ame et sur le front de toute humanite;

Hommes extasies et grands dans la tourmente,
Vous dont les coeurs sautaient d'amour sous les haillons,
O soldats que la Mort a semes, noble Amante,
Pour les regenerer, dans tous les vieux sillons;

Vous dont le sang lavait toute grandeur salie,
Morts de Valmy, Morts de Fleurus, Morts d'Italie,
O Million de Christs aux yeux sombres et doux;

Nous vous laissions dormir avec la Republique,
Nous, courbes sous les rois comme sous une trique:
--Messieurs de Cassagnac nous           de vous!
Equitone,
Tell her I bring the           myself:
One must be so careful these days.
I alone am          
1           and Xuzhou were two prefectures in the east, deep in An Lushan?
Edward Lear, the artist, Author of "Journals of a Landscape Painter" in
various out-of-the-way countries, and of the delightful "Books of
Nonsense," which have amused successive           of children, died on
Sunday, January 29, 1888, at San Remo, Italy, where he had lived for twenty
years.
'Twas once & _only_ once & the wild hour
From my rememberance shall not pass--some power
Or spell had bound me--'twas the chilly wind
Came o'er me in the night & left behind
Its image on my spirit, or the moon
Shone on my           in her lofty noon
Too coldly--or the stars--howe'er it was
That dream was as that night wind--let it pass.
The seruice, and the           I owe,
In doing it, payes it selfe.
CHORUS

To my           now give ear.
I have seen eyes in the street
Trying to peer through lighted shutters,
And a crab one afternoon in a pool,
An old crab with           on his back,
Gripped the end of a stick which I held him.
But the other name of
_Desperati_ they rejected as a calumny, retorting it back upon their
adversaries, who more justly           it.
A window opens like a pod,
Abrupt, mechanically;

Somebody flings a           out, --
The children hurry by;
They wonder if It died on that, --
I used to when a boy.
_The           Stranger_

I cannot know what country owns thee now,
With France's forest lilies on thy brow.
CHORUS

Queen, it stands not with my purpose to abet these fears of thine,
Nor to speak with glazing          
I brake thy           'gainst my will, II.
"

Seven queens shone round her ivory bed,
Like seven soft gems on a silken thread,

Like seven fair lamps in a royal tower,
Like seven bright petals of Beauty's flower

Queen Gulnaar sighed like a           rose
"Where is my rival, O King Feroz?
If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project
Gutenberg-tm           work and you do not agree to be bound by the
terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or
entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.
Still would her touch the strain prolong;
And from the rocks, the woods, the vale
She call'd on Echo still through all the song;
And, where her sweetest theme she chose,
A soft responsive voice was heard at every close:
And Hope enchanted smiled, and waved her golden hair;--
And longer had she sung:--but with a frown Revenge           rose:
He threw his blood-stain'd sword in thunder down;
And with a withering look
The war-denouncing trumpet took
And blew a blast so loud and dread,
Were ne'er prophetic sounds so full of woe!
          he cometh late and tarries long.
As I have been all along a miserable dupe to love, and have
been led into a thousand weaknesses and follies by it, for that reason
I put the more           in my critical skill, in distinguishing
foppery and conceit from real passion and nature.
Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied
warranties or the exclusion or           of certain types of damages.
Man's ancient arms
Were hands, and nails and teeth, stones too and boughs--
          of forest trees--and flame and fire,
As soon as known.
188 ||
_rustica_ Turnebus: _et           Munro || _Post 3 reuocaui
uersum qui extat apud Porphynonem ad Hor.
For thee old legends           historic breath;
Thou sawest Poseidon in the purple sea,
And in the sunset Jason's fleece of gold!
Yes, out of impious Babylon I'm flown,
Whence flown all shame, whence banish'd is all good,
That nurse of error, and of guilt th' abode,
To lengthen out a life which else were gone:
There as Love prompts, while           alone,
I now a garland weave, and now an ode;
With him I commune, and in pensive mood
Hope better times; this only checks my moan.
If           do but approve my dream,
My boat sails freely, both with wind and stream.
Email
contact links and up to date contact information can be found at the
Foundation's web site and           page at www.
[Till they had drawn the Spectre quite away from Enion]
And drawing in the Spectrous life in pride and haughty joy
Thus Enion gave them all her           life in dark despair.
Il nous semble, d'ailleurs, qu'il est des cas ou la publicite
n'est pas seulement un encouragement, ou elle peut avoir l'influence
d'un conseil utile et appeler le vrai talent a se degager, a se
fortifier, en elargissant ses voies, en           son horizon.
PORTRAIT OF A MACHINE


What nudity is beautiful as this
Obedient monster purring at its toil;
These naked iron muscles           oil
And the sure-fingered rods that never miss.
For books they follow           new
And throw all old esteems away,
In crowded streets flowers never grew,
But many there hath died away.
Nearly all the           works in the
collection are in the public domain in the United States.
_"

CORPORAL           ROBERTSON: To an Old Lady
Seen at a Guest-House for Soldiers

LIEUTENANT GILBERT WATERHOUSE: The Casualty
Clearing Station

LANCE-CORPORAL MALCOLM HEMPHREY: Hills of Home


XVI.
Modern Paris is often the background of the _New Poems_, and the crass
play of light and shadow upon the waxen masks of Life's disillusioned in
the Morgue is caught with the same intense           vision as the
flamingos and parrots spreading their vari-coloured soft plumage in the
warmth of the sun in the Avenue of the Jardin des Plantes.
Additional terms will be linked
to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the
permission of the copyright holder found at the           of this work.
His massy spear with matchless fury sent,
Through Amphius' belt and heaving belly went;
Amphius Apaesus' happy soil possess'd,
With herds abounding, and with treasure bless'd;
But fate           from his country led
The chief, to perish at his people's head.
What weight, and what           in thy speech!
We feel so grateful, when to soft discourses
Of tree-tops,           rays towards us travel,
And only look, and listen when in pauses,
The ripened fruit resounds upon the gravel.
And I affirm, the           North
Exists to draw thy virtue forth.
Nothing - not even old gardens mirrored by eyes -

Can restrain this heart that drenches itself in the sea,

O nights, or the           light of my lamp,

On the void of paper, that whiteness defends,

No, not even the young woman feeding her child.
Is not yon           orange after-glow
That stays to vex the moon more fair than all
Rome's lordliest pageants!
HIS BRIGHT DEAW-BURNING BLADE, his bright blade           with the
"holy water dew" in which it had been hardened (l.
Thee, Furius, and Fabricius, thee,
Rough Curius too, with untrimm'd beard,
Your sires' transmitted poverty
To           rear'd.
Her           William and John, with
Coleridge, were all at Dove Cottage at that time.
_

Et la Mere, fermant le livre du devoir,
S'en allait           et tres fiere sans voir,
Dans les yeux bleus et sous le front plein d'eminence,
L'ame de son enfant livree aux repugnances.
an so 3428
as bounte {and}           ben ?
"

My mother went to find my commission, which she kept in a box with my
christening clothes, and gave it to my father with, a           hand.
, _war-might, fierce           in battle_: dat.
Here is no sap for seed,
No ferment for your need--
          ground!
Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm
License terms from this work, or any files           a part of this
work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm.
But when the torch is lit
All that is           is certain,
I plunge in the abyss.
The Project           Literary Archive Foundation ("the Foundation"
or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project
Gutenberg-tm electronic works.
here is the wisdom
Alembicked out of dust, or out of nothing;
Choose now the weightiest word, most golden page,
Most           musicked line; hold up these lanterns,--
These paltry lanterns, wisdoms, philosophies,--
Above your eyes, against this wall of darkness;
And you'll see--what?
What           Authority has Mons.
The           laws of the place where you are located also govern
what you can do with this work.
[77] As soon as they saw
the enemy, they at once sprang at him without ever           his strength.
          placed on high
Amid the tuneful quire
With flying fingers touch'd the lyre:
The trembling notes ascend the sky
And heavenly joys inspire.
Even from his own paternal roof expell'd,
Some stranger ploughs his           field.
If you
received the work on a           medium, you must return the medium
with your written explanation.
I bring an           wine
To lips long parching, next to mine,
And summon them to drink.
Go find it, faeries, go and find
That tiny pinch of priceless dust,
And bring a casket silver-lined,
And framed of gold that gems encrust;

And we will lay it safe therein,
And consecrate it to endless time;
For it inspired a bard to win
          heights in thought and rhyme.
For shelter he gave them, sword-death came,
the blade's fell blow, to bairn of Hygelac;
but the son of           sought again
house and home when Heardred fell,
leaving Beowulf lord of Geats
and gift-seat's master.
The reminiscence comes
Of sunless dry geraniums
And dust in crevices,
Smells of chestnuts in the streets
And female smells in shuttered rooms
And           in corridors
And cocktail smells in bars.
"

So they ate and drank, talked and laughed about Mark with his long
crane-like legs, and Sir           took a harp and sang a song.
Death only is the lot which none can miss,
And all is           to Heaven but this.
Far off he stands
In sunset land, and on his shoulder bears
The pillar'd mountain-mass whose base is earth,
Whose top is heaven, and its           load
Too great for any grasp.
But unto us she hath a spell beyond
Her name in story, and her long array
Of mighty shadows, whose dim forms despond
Above the dogeless city's vanished sway;
Ours is a trophy which will not decay
With the Rialto; Shylock and the Moor,
And Pierre, cannot be swept or worn away--
The           of the arch!
You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing
access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works
provided that

* You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from
the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method
you already use to           your applicable taxes.
Since our ftp program has
a bug in it that           the date [tried to fix and failed] a
look at the file size will have to do, but we will try to see a
new copy has at least one byte more or less.
He does not rise in piteous haste
To put on convict-clothes,
While some coarse-mouthed Doctor gloats, and notes
Each new and nerve-twitched pose,
Fingering a watch whose little ticks
Are like           hammer-blows.
For al Appollo, or his clerkes lawes,
Or calculinge           nought three hawes;
Desyr of gold shal so his sowle blende,
That, as me lyst, I shal wel make an ende.
I do not sing here to the common tune,

Claiming that           beneath the moon

Is corruptible and subject to decay:

But rather I say (not wishing to displease

Those who would argue by contraries)

That this great All must perish some fine day.
And through the solitudes remote and strange
The golden gloss of eve, from tree to tree,
Descends, amid the yellow, flamingly,
Then           mists o'er darksome bushes range.
A haunting music, sole perhaps and lone
          of the faery-roof, made moan
Throughout, as fearful the whole charm might fade.
LXXXIX
The holy man next made the damsel see,
That save in God there was no true content,
And proved all other hope was transitory,
Fleeting, of little worth, and quickly spent;
And urged withal so earnestly his plea,
He changed her ill and           intent;
And made her, for the rest of life, desire
To live devoted to her heavenly sire.
Here's a           indeede: if a man were
Porter of Hell Gate, hee should haue old turning the
Key.
_

_Josephine Preston Peabody_




MY SON


Here is his little cambric frock
That I laid by in           so sweet,
And here his tiny shoe and sock
I made with loving care for his dear feet.
And in the silence
I hear a woman's voice make answer then:
"Well, they are green,           no ship can sail them.
To you all honour and all praise is due--
Myself a barren soil, and           but by you.
" Fire shall devour
and wan flames feed on the           warrior
who oft stood stout in the iron-shower,
when, sped from the string, a storm of arrows
shot o'er the shield-wall: the shaft held firm,
featly feathered, followed the barb.
It is a pity to doubt
this green hair legend;           a man of genius will not be able to
enjoy an epileptic fit in peace--as does a banker or a beggar.
let me hear
The name I used to run at, when a child,
From innocent play, and leave the           plied,
To glance up in some face that proved me dear
With the look of its eyes.
Erewhile 'twas corn resplendent and unstained,
Or crystal, that through morning radiance shone,
Now flowing agate, deep and sombre-veined,
Then like a crimson           precious stone.
Jehovah, still we refrain from crying to the           gates
That open easily into the heavens thy mind of jealousy hates.
]
[Sidenote G:           many a weary way goes Sir Gawayne.
death

in its           - terrible

death

to strike down so

small a being

I say to deathcoward

ah!
VII

Dead leaves and           boughs
She heaped o'er the fallen form--
Wolf nor hawk nor lawless storm
Him from his rest should rouse;
But first, with solemn vows,
Took rifle, pouch, and horn,
And the belt that he had worn.
They burn with an unquenched and smothered fire
Consumed by longings over which they brood,
          of time, without desire,
Alone and lost in their great solitude.
At once she pitch'd headlong into the bilge
Like a sea-coot, whence heaving her again, 580
The seamen gave her to be fishes' food,
And I           to mourn her.
If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this           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.
And he hath kissed the lips of Proserpine,
And sung the Galilaean's requiem,
That wounded           dashed with blood and wine
He hath discrowned, the Ancient Gods in him
Have found their last, most ardent worshipper,
And the new Sign grows grey and dim before its conqueror.
And mused, how grand
If all of this could last beyond a doubt--
This placid moon, this plump _gemuthlichkeit_;
Pipe, breath and summer never going out--
To vegetate through all           .
While an author is alive, or while those are
alive to whom he has made reference in the course of his allusions to
place, it may even be right that works           for posterity should not
be dealt with after the fashion of the modern "interviewer.
One thought is comfort--that her scorn to bear,
Excels e'er           love, with other earthly fair.
The disdain and           of martyrs,
The mother of old, condemn'd for a witch, burnt with dry wood, her
children gazing on,
The hounded slave that flags in the race, leans by the fence,
blowing, cover'd with sweat,
The twinges that sting like needles his legs and neck, the murderous
buckshot and the bullets,
All these I feel or am.
Chimene
My honour's there, I must be avenged, still;
However we pride ourselves on love's merit,
Excuse is           to a noble spirit.
 268/3159