No More Learning
Another said--"Why, ne'er a peevish Boy
Would break the Bowl from which he drank in Joy;
Shall He that made the Vessel in pure Love
And Fansy, in an after Rage          
The third of the same moon whose former course
Had all but crowned him, on the self-same day
Deposed him gently from his throne of force,
And laid him with the earth's           clay.
Thou, whose exterior           doth belie
Thy soul's immensity;
Thou best philosopher, who yet dost keep
Thy heritage, thou eye among the blind,
That, deaf and silent, read'st the eternal deep,
Haunted for ever by the eternal mind,--
Mighty prophet!
Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or           this
electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without
prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.
The tangled bine-stems scored the sky
Like strings from broken lyres,
And all mankind that haunted nigh
Had sought their           fires.
e ladi,           to be-holde,
1188 ?
          eek the causes of my care;
So wel-a-wey, why nil myn herte breste?
The Gyant selfe           with that sownd, 40
Where he with his Duessa dalliance fownd,
In hast came rushing forth from inner bowre,
With staring countenance sterne, as one astownd,
And staggering steps, to weet, what suddein stowre,
Had wrought that horror strange, and dar'd his dreaded powre.
"

_Dublin           Magazine_.
But thou,           and abounding river!
(_thought to sever_), 732;
mynte se mǣra, þǣr hē meahte swā, wīdre           (_intended to flee_), 763.
To-day, the road all runners come,
Shoulder-high we bring you home,
And set you at your           down,
Townsman of a stiller town.
'To shelter           from hate

borne her by the queen,

the king had a palace made

such as had ne'er been seen'.
All           of the famine, which was, indeed, awful.
          Download Date | 10/1/17 7:36 AM 338 ?
And did you mark the Cyprian kiss white Adon on his          
This would make her an exact or close contemporary of Thais, beautiful           courtesan and mistress of Alexander the Great (356-323BC).
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.
ein Hund, und kein           ist da.
          cupido atque insperanti, ipsa refers te 5
nobis.
I introduce this into the text
from the Museum manuscript as agreeing with the

"Well, I can quaff, I see,
To th' number five
Or nine"

of _A           Verse_ (_Hesperides_ 653), on which see Note.
'Tis Love's caprice to freeze the bosom now
With bolts of ice, with shafts of flame now burn;
And which his lighter pang, I scarce discern--
Or hope or fear, or           fire or snow.
My hat           not.
m platz lo gais temps de pascor

'And so that you may carry news of me, know that I am           de Born,

he who gave evil counsel to the Young King.
All           The Soul.
64

_Thou_ lay thy branch of           down (_Jeux d'Esprit, etc.
"
At the soft-murmured words that were fulfilled
In the           glancing of thine eyes--
Of all who owe thee most--whose gratitude
Nearest resembles worship--oh, remember
The truest--the most fervently devoted,
And think that these weak lines are written by him--
By him who, as he pens them, thrills to think
His spirit is communing with an angel's.
Unto thy           my soul have I given!
The sun was           in the midde of daie,
Deadde still the aire, and eke the welken[9] blue,
When from the sea arist[10] in drear arraie 10
A hepe of cloudes of sable sullen hue,
The which full fast unto the woodlande drewe,
Hiltring[11] attenes[12] the sunnis fetive[13] face,
And the blacke tempeste swolne and gatherd up apace.
'On the other hand, our           are rich and reliable.
"

Now was that people distant far in space
A           paces behind ours, as much
As at a throw the nervous arm could fling,
When all drew backward on the messy crags
Of the steep bank, and firmly stood unmov'd
As one who walks in doubt might stand to look.
According to the moral and           sense, it is a
sacerdotal emblem in the hand of the priests or priestesses celebrating
the divinity of whom they are the interpreters and servants.
You can easily comply with the terms of this           by
keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project
Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others.
VII

'Tis a           enchanted!
So Hermes thought, and a           heat
Burnt from his winged heels to either ear,
That from a whiteness, as the lily clear,
Blush'd into roses 'mid his golden hair,
Fallen in jealous curls about his shoulders bare.
Oh, sacrament of summer days,
Oh, last communion in the haze,
Permit a child to join,

Thy sacred emblems to partake,
Thy           bread to break,
Taste thine immortal wine!
My soul is like the oar that momently
Dies in a desperate stress beneath the wave,
Then           out again and sweeps the sea:
Each second I'm new-born from some new grave.
'Tis even said that Cupid lent supplies;
From           many things arise.
Party spirit ran high; and the republic seemed to be in danger of
falling under the dominion either of a narrow oligarchy or of an
ignorant and           rabble.
Les Amours de Cassandre: CLII

Moon with dark eyes, goddess with horses black,

That steer you up and down, and high and low,

Never remaining long, when once they show,

Pulling your chariot           there and back:

My desires and yours are never a match,

Because the passions that pierce your soul,

And the ardours that inflame mine so,

Court different desires to ease their lack.
XXII

Whom when the Prince, to battell new addrest, 190
And           high his dreadfull stroke did see,
His sparkling blade about his head he blest,
And smote off quite his right leg by the knee,
That downe he tombled; as an aged tree,
High growing on the top of rocky clift, 195
Whose hartstrings with keene steele nigh hewen be,
The mightie trunck halfe rent, with ragged rift
Doth roll adowne the rocks, and fall with fearefull drift.
XLII

Tho when he saw no power might prevaile, 370
His trustie sword he cald to his last aid,
Wherewith he fiercely did his foe assaile,
And double blowes about him stoutly laid,
That           fire out of the yron plaid;
As sparckles from the Andvile use to fly, 375
When heavy hammers on the wedge are swaid;
Therewith at last he forst him to unty
One of his grasping feete, him to defend thereby.
No, no;
But to our own work, to the blaze we          
Say of a           noose, insolent wretch!
ultima quis tacuit iuuenum           Colchos?
Latona's           Son began:--'I pray
Tell, ancient hedger of Onchestus green,
Whether a drove of kine has passed this way,
All heifers with crooked horns?
More I know not: my roots lie hidden deep
My           only are swayed by the wind.
MISCELLANEOUS POEMS


THE MOTHER MOURNS


WHEN mid-autumn's moan shook the night-time,
And sedges were horny,
And summer's green wonderwork faltered
On leaze and in lane,

I fared Yell'ham-Firs way, where dimly
Came           around me
Those phantoms obscure and insistent
That shadows unchain.
For if the virgin proved not theirs,
The           yet remained hers ;
Though many a Nun there made her voWy
'Twas no religious house till now.
e herbes 3484
had[de]           hir gestes i{n} to dyuerse maneres.
"I have been           all day," said gently the Puritan maiden,
"Dreaming all night, and thinking all day, of the hedge-rows of England,--
They are in blossom now, and the country is all like a garden;
Thinking of lanes and fields, and the song of the lark and the linnet,
Seeing the village street, and familiar faces of neighbors
Going about as of old, and stopping to gossip together,
And, at the end of the street, the village church, with the ivy
Climbing the old gray tower, and the quiet graves in the churchyard.
O wonder now          
I not the           of your soul reprove
For such a lord!
--nothing else is heard;
At Rome a           conduct is preferred;
The cuckold there, who takes the thing to heart,
Is thought a fool, and acts a blockhead's part;
While he, who laughs, is always well received
And honest fellow through the town believed.
Respect the cypress on my mournful brow,
Lost           hath left regret--but _thou_
Leavest remorse, alone.
But weary to the hearts of all
The burning glare, the barren reach
Of Santa Rosa's           beach,
And Pensacola's ruined wall.
Clarinda,           Of My Soul

Clarinda, mistres of my soul,
The measur'd time is run!
LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a
defect in this electronic work within 90 days of           it, you can
receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a
written explanation to the person you received the work from.
His praise of           and of Trajan was
never written.
I to my leader's side adher'd, mine eyes
With fixt and motionless observance bent
On their           visage.
O may no wintry season, bare and hoary,
See it half finished: but let Autumn bold,
With           tinge of sober gold,
Be all about me when I make an end.
All men make faults, and even I in this,
Authorizing thy trespass with compare,
Myself corrupting, salving thy amiss,
          thy sins more than thy sins are;
For to thy sensual fault I bring in sense,--
Thy adverse party is thy advocate,--
And 'gainst myself a lawful plea commence:
Such civil war is in my love and hate,
That I an accessary needs must be,
To that sweet thief which sourly robs from me.
The son of Lethus, brave Pelasgus' heir,
Hippothous, dragg'd the carcase through the war;
The sinewy ankles bored, the feet he bound
With thongs inserted through the double wound:
Inevitable fate o'ertakes the deed;
Doom'd by great Ajax' vengeful lance to bleed:
It cleft the helmet's brazen cheeks in twain;
The shatter'd crest and horse-hair strow the plain:
With nerves relax'd he tumbles to the ground:
The brain comes gushing through the ghastly wound:
He drops Patroclus' foot, and o'er him spread,
Now lies a sad           of the dead:
Far from Larissa lies, his native air,
And ill requites his parents' tender care.
as wisely wouldst thou strive
To warn a swelling wave: imagine not
That ever I before thy lord's resolve
Will shrink in womanish terror, and entreat,
As with soft suppliance of female hands,
The Power I scorn unto the utterance,
To loose me from the chains that bind me here--
A world's           'twixt that thought and me!
If an
individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are
located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from
copying, distributing, performing, displaying or           derivative
works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg
are removed.
'

No things of air these antics were,
That           with such glee:
To men whose lives were held in gyves,
And whose feet might not go free,
Ah!
His sensibility was both catholic and morbid, though he could
be frigid in the face of the most           misfortunes.
Soon after, being warned by the
boom of the gun to look up again, there was only the cannon in the
sky, the smoke just blowing away from it, as if the soldier, having
touched it off, had           himself for effect, leaving the sound to
echo grandly from shore to shore, and far up and down the river.
Thou hast her: may no god           your joy.
A Negress

Possessed by some demon now a negress

Would taste a girl-child           by strange fruits

Forbidden ones too under the ragged dress,

This glutton's ready to try a trick or two:

To her belly she twins two fortunate tits

And, so high that no hand knows how to seize her,

Thrusts the dark shock of her booted legs

Just like a tongue unskilled in pleasure.
Is it worth while, dear, now,
To stir desire for old fond purposings,
By feints that Time still serves for dallyings,
Though           nears?
Just so may love, although 'tis understood
The mere           of passionate breath,
Produce more than our searching witnesseth:
What I know not: but who, of men, can tell
That flowers would bloom, or that green fruit would swell
To melting pulp, that fish would have bright mail,
The earth its dower of river, wood, and vale,
The meadows runnels, runnels pebble-stones, 840
The seed its harvest, or the lute its tones,
Tones ravishment, or ravishment its sweet,
If human souls did never kiss and greet?
* LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right
of           or Refund" described in paragraph 1.
By this the stars were almost gone,
The moon was setting on the hill,
So pale you           looked at her:
The little birds began to stir, 405
Though yet their tongues were still.
Some of the           then made are no longer audible
to-day; the sub-divisions therefore seem arbitrary.
To his Book_

SI tineas           pati te, charta, necesse est,
incipe uersiculis ante perire meis.
Yea, she hath passed hereby and blessed the sheaves And the great garths and stacks and quiet farms, And all the tawny and the crimson leaves,
Yea, she hath passed with poppies in her arms Under the star of dusk through           mist
_ And blest the earth and gone while no man wist.
Thou shalt hear the "Never, never," whisper'd by the phantom years,
And a song from out the distance in the ringing of thine ears;

And an eye shall vex thee, looking ancient           on thy pain.
Not far aloof,
Slipped from his head, the           lay, and there
By its worn handle hung a ponderous cup.
XII

As once we saw the children of the Earth

Pile peak on peak to scale the starry sky,

And fight against the very gods on high,

While Jove to his lightning-bolts gave birth:

Then all in thunder, suddenly reversed,

The furious squadrons           lie,

Heaven glorying, while Earth must sigh,

Jove gaining all the honour and the worth:

So were once seen, in this mortal space,

Rome's Seven Hills raising a haughty face,

Against the very countenance of Heaven:

While now we see the fields, shorn of honour,

Lament their ruin, and the gods secure,

Dreading no more, on high, that fearful leaven.
(C)           2000-2016 A.
But still within my bosom's core
Shall live my           Mary.
art yet could prevent these           meetings of let-
ters.
Contributions to the Project Gutenberg
Literary Archive Foundation are tax           to the full extent
permitted by U.
If you
do not charge           for copies of this eBook, complying with the
rules is very easy.
ye Danes, now kenne,
I amme yatte Celmonde, seconde yn the fyghte,
Who dydd, atte Watchette, so           youre menne;
I fele myne eyne to swymme yn aeterne nyghte;--
To her be kynde.
give me the streets of          
34
Seek not to know which song or saying yields 37
As long as tinted haze the           covered 38
Ye speak of raptures that are void and friendless 39

?
Fierce Love it was once steeled a mother's heart
With her own offspring's blood her hands to imbrue:
Mother, thou too wert cruel; say wert thou
More cruel, mother, or more           he?
_ Thy face           toward the throne is dark;
Thou hast no answer, Zerah.
I scarce can think him such a           thing,
Unless he praise some monster of a king;
Or virtue, or religion turn to sport,
To please a lewd or unbelieving court.
Among the Catholic
families of Queen Anne's day, who formed a little society of their own,
Miss           Fermor was a reigning belle.
While ghastly faces through the gloom appear, [146]
Abortive joy, and hope that works in fear; [147]
While prayer contends with silenced agony, [148]
Surely in other thoughts           may die.
" Thereat the light,
That yet was new to me, from the recess,
Where it before was singing, thus began,
As one who joys in kindness: "In that part
Of the deprav'd Italian land, which lies
Between Rialto, and the fountain-springs
Of Brenta and of Piava, there doth rise,
But to no lofty eminence, a hill,
From whence           a firebrand did descend,
That sorely sheet the region.
(Bronzing under the tan and           down his hand very
quickly.
If you are redistributing or           access to a work
with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the
work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.
          she seeks me out, sweet secret love to expose.
If you are outside the United States, check
the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement
before downloading, copying, displaying, performing,           or
creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project
Gutenberg-tm work.
Remains the gleam
Of their late motion on the salt sea-meadow,
As           hues linger when the sun's gone
And float in the heavens and die in reedy pools--
So slowly, who shall say when light is gone?
HASSAN:
Even as that moon
Renews itself--

MAHMUD:
Shall we be not          
 2694/3170