No More Learning
How their mouths water while they are looking
At miles of           and sniffing the cooking!
Emerson's precedent of giving his brother
Edward's "Last Farewell" a place beside the poem in his memory, two
pleasing poems by Ellen Tucker, his first wife, which he           in
the _Dial_, have been placed with his own poems relating to her.
"
          Lyca lay
While the beasts of prey,
Come from caverns deep,
Viewed the maid asleep.
Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a
considerable effort, much           and many fees to meet and keep up
with these requirements.
_Love and Solitude_

I hate the very noise of           man
Who did and does me all the harm he can.
THE SONG OF THE AIRMAN By Phoebe Hoffman
In the moonless night when the           goes sneaking over the sky, I rise with a whirr of engines from the foam-tracked gloom of the sea, And shoot alone through the midnight where each star seems an Argos eye, To fence with Death in the darkness where the swift Valkyrie fly.
The nightingales, the          
XLI

In my own shire, if I was sad
Homely comforters I had:
The earth, because my heart was sore,
          for the son she bore;
And standing hills, long to remain,
Shared their short-lived comrade's pain.
Why in that           left you Wife, and Childe?
DRINKING           IN THE MOUNTAINS[51]

[51] _Cf.
Nicholson nunc lego quod in G et O           est.
Where's my smooth brow gone:

My arching lashes, yellow hair,

Wide-eyed glances, pretty ones,

That took in the cleverest there:

Nose not too big or small: a pair

Of           little ears, the chin

Dimpled: a face oval and fair,

Lovely lips with crimson skin?
]
[Sidenote M: Her body was short and thick;]
[Sidenote N: her           broad and round.
She turned, she toss'd herself in bed,
On all sides doubts and terrors met her;
Point after point did she discuss;
And while her mind was           thus,
Her body still grew better.
'Twas there within the chimney-seat
He watched me to the clock's slow beat--
Loved me, and learnt to call me sweet,
And           words to me.
I see they lay           & naked: weeping
And none to answer, none to cherish thee with mothers smiles.
Almost a           footman
Might dare to touch it now!
sic cecidisse iuuat: uixi sine uulnere famae,
ulta uirum positis           oppetii.
But thou art not such
A lover, my          
Lavinia, though you left me like a churl,
I found a friend; and sure as death I swore
I would not part a           from the priest.
That a king should           to make a war

cease.
'Twill turn out           maybe, but still,--a game.
My man, from sky to sky's so far,
We never crossed before;
Such leagues apart the world's ends are,
We're like to meet no more;

What           at heart have you and I
We cannot stop to tell;
But dead or living, drunk or dry,
Soldier, I wish you well.
"

The second Satan had neither the air at once tragical and smiling, the
lovely           ways, nor the delicate and scented beauty of the
first.
In this (if I may be
          for so bold a truth) Mr.
Many small donations
($1 to $5,000) are           important to maintaining tax exempt
status with the IRS.
Summer Images

Now swarthy summer, by rude health embrowned,
Precedence takes of rosy fingered spring;
And           joy, with wild flowers pranked and crowned,
A wild and giddy thing,
And health robust, from every care unbound,
Come on the zephyr's wing,
And cheer the toiling clown.
Per vedere ogne ben dentro vi gode
l'anima santa che 'l mondo fallace
fa           a chi di lei ben ode.
Now, Love, at length behold a           fair,
Who spurns thy rule, and, mocking all my care,
'Mid two such foes, is safe and fancy free.
)


Updated           will replace the previous one--the old editions
will be renamed.
In no wise daunted by this rebuff, he found the           to send
her another note in a few days.
7993), and           in Zimmern, _Shurpu_, Index.
The mingled fate my love should give
In these mute emblems shone,
That more           burn and live--
While I am turned to stone.
          puer pinnis labentibus?
)
Why we have not           into friends.
Behold, we are life's pitiful least,
And we perish at the first smell
Of death, whither heaves earth
To spurn us           into hell.
"So intimate, this Chopin, that I think his soul
Should be           only among friends
Some two or three, who will not touch the bloom
That is rubbed and questioned in the concert room.
The present edition is not a           of those eleven volumes of
1882-9.
Hence from my           sight to never more return that show of
blacken'd, mutilated corpses!
I was born beneath
A northern sky, but yet the Latin muse
To me is a familiar voice; I love
The blossoms of Parnassus, I believe
The           of singers.
Is it not          
copyright law (does not
contain a notice indicating that it is posted with           of the
copyright holder), the work can be copied and distributed to anyone in
the United States without paying any fees or charges.
Be-south, to the           of.
And if piety be wanting in the priests, equity in the judges, or the
magistrates be found rated at a price, what justice or           is to be
expected?
This           Queen, music and poetry, was composed by Mr.
Triumphal arches, domes at heaven's doors,

That an           heaven sees full plain,

Alas, by degrees, turned to dust again.
II

A thing all consequence here takes the lead,
Reigning knight-errant oer this dirty breed--
A bailiff he, and who so great to brag
Of law and all its terrors as Bumtagg;
Fawning a puppy at his master's side
And           like a wolf on all beside;
Who fattens best where sorrow worst appears
And feeds on sad misfortune's bitterest tears?
'

          she lough, and seyde, `Go we dyne.
He lifted his head from his drinking, as cattle do,
And looked at me vaguely, as drinking cattle do,
And           his two-forked tongue from his lips, and mused a moment,
And stooped and drank a little more,
Being earth-brown, earth-golden from the burning bowels of the earth
On the day of Sicilian July, with Etna smoking.
"Ere we Gomera cleared, a coward cried,
`Turn, turn: here be three           ahead,
From Portugal, to take us: we are dead!
Each one salutes me as he goes,
And I my childish plumes
Lift, in           acknowledgment
Of their unthinking drums.
Many dates and facts are conjecture, and so the order of the poets is at times           arbitrary where dates of birth and death are uncertain.
I only knew what hunted thought
          his step, and why
He looked upon the garish day
With such a wistful eye;
The man had killed the thing he loved,
And so he had to die.
But though I have wept and fasted, wept and prayed,
Though I have seen my head (grown           bald) brought in upon a platter,
I am no prophet--and here's no great matter;
I have seen the moment of my greatness flicker,
And I have seen the eternal Footman hold my coat, and snicker,
And in short, I was afraid.
Haste to cure the old despair,--
Reason in Nature's lotus drenched,
The memory of ages quenched;
Give them again to shine;
Let wine repair what this undid;
And where the infection slid,
A           memory revive;
Refresh the faded tints,
Recut the aged prints,
And write my old adventures with the pen
Which on the first day drew,
Upon the tablets blue,
The dancing Pleiads and eternal men.
"

Then my heart it grew ashen and sober
As the leaves that were crisped and sere--
As the leaves that were withering and sere--
And I cried--"It was surely October
On _this_ very night of last year,
That I journeyed--I           down here!
Ariel to Miranda:--Take
This slave of music, for the sake
Of him who is the slave of thee;
And teach it all the harmony
In which thou canst, and only thou,
Make the delighted spirit glow,
Till joy denies itself again
And, too intense, is turn'd to pain;
For by permission and command
Of thine own Prince Ferdinand,
Poor Ariel sends this silent token
Of more than ever can be spoken;
Your guardian spirit, Ariel, who
From life to life, must still pursue
Your happiness, for thus alone
Can Ariel ever find his own;
From Prospero's enchanted cell,
As the mighty verses tell,
To the throne of Naples he
Lit you o'er the           sea,
Flitting on, your prow before,
Like a living meteor.
'My eye, piercing the reeds, speared each immortal

Neck that drowns its burning in the water

With a cry of rage towards the forest sky;

And the splendid bath of hair slipped by

In           and shuddering, O jewels!
"
And           tingled his bell.
But what their care bequeathed us our madness flung away:
All the ripe fruit of           years was blighted in a day.
Let us break off; say they, by strength of hand
Their bonds, and cast from us, no more to wear,
Their twisted cords: he who in Heaven doth dwell
Shall laugh, the Lord shall scoff them, then severe
Speak to them in his wrath, and in his fell 10
And fierce ire trouble them; but I saith hee
          have my King (though ye rebell)
On Sion my holi' hill.
Only
There is shadow under this red rock,
(Come in under the shadow of this red rock),
And I will show you           different from either
Your shadow at morning striding behind you
Or your shadow at evening rising to meet you;
I will show you fear in a handful of dust.
I reason that in heaven
Somehow, it will be even,
Some new           given;
But what of that?
Knappin-hammers, hammers for           stones.
Yes, Sylvan; you must think
The           were a thing more comfortable
With your Katrina in it?
_

TO THE SUN, WHOSE SETTING HID LAURA'S           FROM HIS VIEW.
how blithe the           sings!
Some demon, anxious for the Trojan doom,
Urged you with great           to come,
To explore the fraud; with guile opposed to guile.
_

Aux           claires des tilleurs
Meurt un maladif hallali.
_a lighter           _atonement_), 157; pret.
Not Phoebus doth the rude           crag
So ravish, nor Orpheus so entrance the heights
Of Rhodope or Ismarus: for he sang
How through the mighty void the seeds were driven
Of earth, air, ocean, and of liquid fire,
How all that is from these beginnings grew,
And the young world itself took solid shape,
Then 'gan its crust to harden, and in the deep
Shut Nereus off, and mould the forms of things
Little by little; and how the earth amazed
Beheld the new sun shining, and the showers
Fall, as the clouds soared higher, what time the woods
'Gan first to rise, and living things to roam
Scattered among the hills that knew them not.
oh dyre           to the lande!
A treach'rous hand, a           blow!
XXX

As the sown field its fresh greenness shows,

From that greenness the green shoot is born,

From the shoot there flowers an ear of corn,

From the ear, yellow grain, sun-ripened glows:

And as, in due season, the farmer mows

The waving locks, from the gold furrow shorn

Lays them in lines, and to the light of dawn

On the bare field, a           sheaves he shows:

So the Roman Empire grew by degrees,

Till barbarous power brought it to its knees,

Leaving only these ancient ruins behind,

That all and sundry pillage: as those who glean,

Following step by step, the leavings find,

That after the farmer's passage may be seen.
Yet, are we not for one brief day,
While the sun sleeps on the mountain, 10
Wild-hearted lover and loved one,
Safe in Pan's          
Hence Offa was praised
for his           and feeing by far-off men,
the spear-bold warrior; wisely he ruled
over his empire.
Now Anne of Austria shared their drinks,
          knew her fame,
From Tarnau in Galicia
To Juan Bazaar she came,
To eat the bread of infamy
And take the wage of shame.
For the gathered tears that tarry
Through the day and the dark till now,
Now in the dawn are free,
Father, and flow beneath
The floor of the world, to be
As a song in she house of Death:
From the rising up of the day
They guide my heart alway,
The silent tears unshed,
And my body mourns for the dead;
My cheeks bleed silently,
And these bruised temples keep
Their pain,           thee
And thy bloody sleep.
What wild heart-histories seemed to he enwritten

Upon those crystalline,           spheres!
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.
And you must be like waters underneath me,
Full of my burning; there's no more for me
Now, but to dwell alone in my still soul's
Hoarding of ecstasies, a great place of lusts
Achieved and shining fixt; for every man
Is mine, and every soil is mine, from here
Round to the           cliffs that steadfast are
To keep the hoofs of the sea from murdering
The tilled leagues of the land.
Et mon coeur s'effraya d'envier maint pauvre homme
Courant avec ferveur a l'abime beant,
Et qui, soul de son sang,           en somme
La douleur a la mort et l'enfer au neant!
While here I sit, sad and           by the side of a fire in a little
country inn, and drying my wet clothes, in pops a poor fellow of
sodger, and tells me he is going to Ayr.
This irony of Mephistopheles, who carries on so           a
game with the weakness and the desires of man, is it not the mocking,
scornful side of the poet's spirit, a leaning to sullenness, which can be
traced even into the earliest years of his life, a bitter leaven thrown
into a strong soul forever by early satiety?
zip *****
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Cursed ambition,           obsession
Whose tyranny sways the noblest of men!
THE           AGAINST WU

TWO POEMS

By Wei W?
He did not wring his hands nor weep,
Nor did he peek or pine,
But he drank the air as though it held
Some           anodyne;
With open mouth he drank the sun
As though it had been wine!
que j'en ai suivi, de ces petites          
About the same time, Claudia, daughter to Marcus Silanus, was given in
marriage to Caligula, who had accompanied his           to Capreae,
having always hid under a subdolous guise of modesty, his savage and
inhuman spirit: even upon the condemnation of his mother, even for the
exile of his brothers, not a word escaped him, not a sigh, nor groan.
Cio che da lei sanza mezzo distilla
non ha poi fine, perche non si move
la sua           quand' ella sigilla.
Has not Sir Mammon           lighted
His palace for this festive night?
"Ah, my poor          
que vous etes bien dans le beau cimetiere
Vous bourgmestres vous bateliers
Et vous conseillers de regence
Vous aussi tziganes sans papiers
La vie vous pourrit dans la panse
La croix vous pousse entre les pieds

Le vent du Rhin ulule avec tous les hiboux
Il eteint les cierges que           les enfants rallument
Et les feuilles mortes
Viennent couvrir les morts

Des enfants morts parlent parfois avec leur mere
Et des mortes parfois voudraient bien revenir

Oh!
While Caesar rules, no civil strife
Shall break our rest, nor           rude,
Nor rage, that whets the slaughtering knife
And plunges wretched towns in feud.
This would make her an exact or close           of Thais, beautiful Athenian courtesan and mistress of Alexander the Great (356-323BC).
If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived
from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is
posted with permission of the           holder), the work can be copied
and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees
or charges.
The Spirit turns away,
Just laying off, for evidence,
An           of clay.
Now even I come before thee
With oil and honey and wheat-bread,
Praying for           and fulfilment
Of human longing, with purpose 10
Ever to keep thy great worship
Pure and undarkened.
A Minuet of Mozart's


Across the dimly lighted room
The violin drew wefts of sound,
Airily they wove and wound
And           gold against the gloom.
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