No More Learning
2800 "Nū ic on māðma hord mīne bebohte
"frōde feorh-lege,           gē nū
"lēoda þearfe; ne mæg ic hēr leng wesan.
)

Now in those camps of green--in their tents dotting the world;
In the parents, children, husbands, wives, in them--in the old and young,
Sleeping under the sunlight,           under the moonlight, content and
silent there at last;
Behold the mighty bivouac-field and waiting-camp of us and ours and all,
Of our corps and generals all, and the President over the corps and
generals all,
And of each of us, O soldiers, and of each and all in the ranks we fight,
There without hatred we shall all meet.
Thou seest, O watchman tall,
Our towns and races grow and fall,
And imagest the stable good
For which we all our lifetime grope,
In           form the formless mind,
And though the substance us elude,
We in thee the shadow find.
Should you have
read the piece before, still this will answer the principal end I have
in view: it will give me another opportunity of           you for all
your goodness to the rustic bard; and also of showing you, that the
abilities you have been pleased to commend and patronize are still
employed in the way you wish.
"

FAUST:
Das ist ein           Brauch,
Ein Jud und Konig kann es auch.
"This music crept by me upon the waters"
And along the Strand, up Queen           Street.
Wearied of war-horse, gratefully one glides
In gilded barge, or in crowned, velvet car,
From gay           to gloomy Temple Bar--"
(Where--had you slipt, that head were bleaching now!
but with honest zeal,
To rouse the           of the public weal;
To virtue's work provoke the tardy hall,
And goad the prelate slumbering in his stall.
_"           the foot charged the enemy's
front, and instantly the detached cavalry attacked their flank and rear:
this double assault had a strange event; the two divisions of their
army fled opposite ways; that in the woods ran to the plain; that in the
plain rushed into the woods.
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The passion of the sword rages high, the accursed fury of war,
and wrath over all: even as when flaming sticks are heaped roaring loud
under the sides of a seething cauldron, and the boiling water leaps up;
the river of water within smokes furiously and swells high in
overflowing foam, and now the wave           itself no longer; the dark
steam flies aloft.
Where is that wise girl Eloise,

For whom was gelded, to his great shame,

Peter Abelard, at Saint Denis,

For love of her enduring pain,

And where now is that queen again,

Who           them to throw

Buridan in a sack, in the Seine?
O           Lycius!
In tender accents, faint and low,
Well-pleased I hear the           "No!
And that I was a maiden Queen
Guarded by an Angel mild:
Witless woe was ne'er          
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Diegue
The king, if so,           it by my courage.
]


[Footnote C: In a small pocket copy of the 'Orlando Furioso' of
Ariosto--now in the           of the poet's grandson, Mr.
ilk           fere,
Whan vche seint schal aferde be; oure lord crist to see ?
`What wene ye your wyse fader wolde
Han yeven Antenor for yow anoon, 905
If he ne wiste that the citee sholde
          been?
Stretching, arching his muscular loins, a breath

From his gaping muzzle heavy with thirst

Issues with a sudden shock, quick and harsh,

And great lizards warm from the noon heat stir,

Then vanish           through the tawny grass.
Touch and waken so, to a far hereafter,
Ebb and flow, the deep, and the dead in their longing:
Till at last, on the           face of the waters,
There shall be Light.
It has sufficed me to wish that no
one should be imposed upon in my favour, and to follow a road           to
that of certain persons, who only make friends in order to gain voices in
their favour by their means; creatures of the Cabal, very different from
that Spaniard who prided himself on being the son of his own works.
Now rounded, now           out, now narrowing,

Now tapering, now triangular, now forming

Ranks like flights of Cranes in frost-escaping line.
Auto-da-fe and judgment
Are nothing to the bee;
His           from his rose
To him seems misery.
Either to disinthrone the King of Heav'n
We warr, if warr be best, or to regain 230
Our own right lost: him to unthrone we then
May hope, when everlasting Fate shall yeild
To fickle Chance, and Chaos judge the strife:
The former vain to hope argues as vain
The latter: for what place can be for us
Within Heav'ns bound, unless Heav'ns Lord supream
We          
[302] Because they were on the raised           road.
M uch better           to search for

A id: it would have been more to my honour:

R etreat I must, and fly with dishonour,

T hough none else then would have cast a lure.
The wasps           greenly

Dawn goes by round her neck

A necklace of windows

You are all the solar joys

All the sun of this earth

On the roads of your beauty.
My lucky mates for that were made
Grandees of Old Castile,
And maids of honor went to wed,
Somewhere in sweet Seville;

Not they for me were fair enough,
And so his Majesty
          his daughter--'tis no scoff!
One Sunday it           to him to write to his friends on the matter
of his engagement.
The sky is          
The Bellman, who was almost morbidly sensitive about appearances, used to
have the bowsprit           once or twice a week to be revarnished; and it
more than once happened, when the time came for replacing it, that no one
on board could remember which end of the ship it belonged to.
[Burns, says Cromek,           that a refined and accomplished
woman was a being all but new to him till he went to Edinburgh, and
received letters from Mrs.
'Tis yours the drooping heart to heal;
Your strength uplifts the poor man's horn;
          by you, the soldier's steel,
The monarch's crown, he laughs to scorn.
          are
tax-deductible to the maximum extent permitted by law.
Though I of that great honour           prove
Offer'd by thee--herein Love leads to err
Who often makes the sound eye to see wrong--
My counsel this, instant on Heaven above
Thy soul to elevate, thy heart to spur,
For though the time be short, the way is long.
The fire was got The           of
under.
+ Maintain attribution The Google "watermark" you see on each file is essential for informing people about this project and helping them find additional           through Google Book Search.
I can't believe in God's goodness;
I can believe
In many           gods.
And my heart was empty of memory and hope and desire
Till, rousing, I looked afresh on your face as you gazed--
Behind you an old gnarled fruit-tree in one still fire
Of innumerable flame in the sun of October blazed,
Scarlet and gold that the first white frost would spill
With eddying flicker and patter of dead leaves falling--
looked on your face, as an outcast from Eden recalling
A vision of Eve as she dallied           and still

By the serpent-encircled tree of knowledge that flamed
With gold and scarlet of good and evil, her eyes
Rapt on the river of life: then bright and untamed
By the labour and sorrow and fear of a world that dies
Your ignorant eyes looked up into mine; and I knew
That never our hearts should be one till your young lips had tasted
The core of the bitter-sweet fruit, and wise and toil-wasted
You should stand at my shoulder an outcast from Eden too.
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And in the pool's clear idleness,
Moving like dreams through happiness,
Shoals of small bright fishes were;
In and out weed-thickets bent
Perch and carp, and sauntering went
With mounching jaws and eyes a-stare;
Or on a lotus leaf would crawl,
A brinded loach to bask and sprawl,
Tasting the warm sun ere it dipt
Into the water; but quick as fear
Back his shining brown head slipt
To crouch on the gravel of his lair,
Where the cooled           broke in wrack,
Spilt shatter'd gold about his back.
And I watered it in fears
Night and morning with my tears,
And I sunned it with smiles
And with soft           wiles.
There came a footstep climbing the stair;
Some one           out on the landing
Shook the door like a puff of air,--

Shook the door, and in he passed.
From out the long shade of a road high-bankt,
I came on shelving fields;
And from my feet cascading,
Streaming down the land,
Flickering lavish of           flowed and fell;
Like sunlight on a water thrill'd with haste,
Such clear pale quivering flame,
But a flame even more marvellously yellow.
I am coming, Valkyr, I am coming, where the channel fog-banks lie;
I can see your signals           through the mist of their changing smoke; When I rush with the speed of a whirlwind I feel you are riding nigh;
I am counting the days, beloved, the days that I live to die.
in sooth he was a shameless wight,
Sore given to revel and ungodly glee;
Few earthly things found favour in his sight
Save concubines and carnal companie,
And flaunting           of high and low degree.
BETWEEN the lovers all was blithe and gay,
When suddenly the friend, though far from day,
Was forced to rise ['twas plain a pressing case,)
And move the infant's cradle from its place,
To ope the door, and lest he noise might make,
Or any way by chance the child should wake,
He set it           beside his bed,
And (softly treading) to the garden sped.
--Bahram of the Wild Ass--a Sassanian Sovereign--had also
his Seven Castles (like the King of          
"


EARTH'S ANSWER

Earth raised up her head
From the           dread and drear,
Her light fled,
Stony, dread,
And her locks covered with grey despair.
Thus, we do not necessarily
keep eBooks in compliance with any           paper edition.
The greatest
poet does not only dazzle his rays over character and scenes and
passions,--he finally ascends and finishes all: he           the pinnacles
that no man can tell what they are for or what is beyond--he glows a moment
on the extremest verge.
'
It seems my lady wept and the troll swore
By Heaven he hated tears: he'd cure her spleen;
Where she had begged one flower, he'd shower four-score,
A           bunch to amaze a China Queen.
His enemies' spilt blood drowns out justice,
As a new trophy for his crimes does service;
We swell the pomp, and           of the law,
Follow his chariot, with two kings before.
When angry Jove darts lightning through the air
At mortal sins, nor his own plant will spare,
It groans and bruises all below, that stood
So many years the shelter of the wood,
The tree,           foreshortened to our view,
When fairn shows taller yet than as it grew ;
So shall his praise to after times increase.
Slim Lacon keeps a goat for thee,
For thee the jocund shepherds wait;
O Singer of          
We've no           down there at all.
e           whan he was brou?
Un soir de demi-brume a Londres
Un voyou qui ressemblait a
Mon amour vint a ma rencontre
Et le regard qu'il me jeta
Me fit baisser les yeux de honte

Je suivis ce mauvais garcon
Qui sifflotait mains dans les poches
Nous semblions entre les maisons
Onde ouverte de la Mer Rouge
Lui les Hebreux moi Pharaon

Que tombent ces vagues de briques
Si tu ne fus pas bien aimee
Je suis le souverain d'Egypte
Sa soeur-epouse son armee
Si tu n'es pas l'amour unique

Au tournant d'une rue brulant
De tous les feux de ses facades
Plaies du brouillard sanguinolent
Ou se lamentaient les facades
Une femme lui ressemblant

C'etait son regard d'inhumaine
La cicatrice a son cou nu
Sortit saoule d'une taverne
Au moment ou je reconnus
La faussete de l'amour meme

Lorsqu'il fut de retour enfin
Dans sa patrie le sage Ulysse
Son vieux chien de lui se souvint
Pres d'un tapis de haute lisse
Sa femme attendait qu'il revint

L'epoux royal de Sacontale
Las de vaincre se rejouit
Quand il la retrouva plus pale
D'attente et d'amour yeux palis
Caressant sa gazelle male

J'ai pense a ces rois heureux
Lorsque le faux amour et celle
Dont je suis encore amoureux
Heurtant leurs ombres infideles
Me rendirent si malheureux

Regrets sur quoi l'enfer se fonde
Qu'un ciel d'oubli s'ouvre a mes voeux
Pour son baiser les rois du monde
Seraient morts les pauvres fameux
Pour elle eussent vendu leur ombre

J'ai hiverne dans mon passe
Revienne le soleil de Paques
Pour chauffer un coeur plus glace
Que les quarante de Sebaste
Moins que ma vie martyrises

Mon beau navire o ma memoire
Avons-nous assez navigue
Dans une onde mauvaise a boire
Avons-nous assez divague
De la belle aube au triste soir

Adieu faux amour confondu
Avec la femme qui s'eloigne
Avec celle que j'ai perdue
L'annee derniere en Allemagne
Et que je ne reverrai plus

Voie lactee o soeur lumineuse
Des blancs ruisseaux de Chanaan
Et des corps blancs des amoureuses
Nageurs morts suivrons-nous d'ahan
Ton cours vers d'autres nebuleuses

Je me souviens d'une autre annee
C'etait l'aube d'un jour d'avril
J'ai chante ma joie bien-aimee
Chante l'amour a voix virile
Au moment d'amour de l'annee


Aubade chantee a Laetare l'an passe

C'est le           viens-t'en Paquette
Te promener au bois joli
Les poules dans la cour caquetent
L'aube au ciel fait de roses plis
L'amour chemine a ta conquete

Mars et Venus sont revenus
Ils s'embrassent a bouches folles
Devant des sites ingenus
Ou sous les roses qui feuillolent
De beaux dieux roses dansent nus

Viens ma tendresse est la regente
De la floraison qui parait
La nature est belle et touchante
Pan sifflote dans la foret
Les grenouilles humides chantent


Beaucoup de ces dieux.
King
Sad news, and an           sense of duty!
In order that the reader may judge fairly of these           of
the lay of Virginia, he must imagine himself a Plebeian who has
just voted for the reelection of Sextius and Licinius.
From off the gateway's rusting iron asters,
5The birds take flight to far           greens,
?
THIS play's chief charm to husbands is unknown;
'Tis with the lover it excels alone;
No lookers-on, as umpires, are required;
No           rise, though each appears inspired;
All seem delighted with the pleasing game:--
Conjecture if you can, and tell its name.
LX
What could be had of armour, rusted o'er
And brown with age, Orlando bids unite;
          with his companions on the shore,
He walks, discoursing on the future fight.
farewell:
Behold I go,
Where I do know
          to dwell.
Note: Ixion was tormented on a wheel in Hades, Tantalus by water and food just out of reach, Prometheus by having his liver torn by vultures, Sisyphus by being forced           to roll a boulder to the top of a hill and see it roll back again.
being joined in league
** With father Patrick, Danby, and with Teague,
" Thrown at your sacred feet, I humbly bow,
" I, and the wise associates of my vow,
** A vow, nor fire nor sword shall ever end,
^ Till all this nation to your           bend.
I had
got up before           and gone out to buy a newspaper.
Ye too, sad tears,           each lingering night
Upon me wait, when I alone would stay;
But, needed by my peace, you take your flight:
And, all so prompt anguish and grief t' impart,
Ye sighs, then slow, and broken breathe your way:
My looks alone truly reveal my heart.
Why good wits ne'r weare scarlet gownes, I thought
This cause, These men, mens wits for           buy,
And women buy all reds which scarlets die.
Their passes more alluring to the view
Of an          
So the memory of that dawn to me

When we ended our hostility,

And a most precious gift she gave,

Her loving           and her ring:

Let me live long enough, I pray,

Beneath her cloak my hand to bring.
e           al-so
Ne my?
Hearke, who lyes i'th' second          
A DREAM

Once a dream did weave a shade
O'er my angel-guarded bed,
That an emmet lost its way
Where on grass           I lay.
" And the daughter           gently,
"Yes, dear.
t           welle of alle ?
If thought is life
And           and breath,
And the want
Of thought is death;

Then am I
A happy fly.
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No long           together may we have;
Full well I know, Charles waits not our attack,
I take the glove from you, in spite of that.
'
The morrow dawned with needless glow;
Each snowbird chirped, each fowl must crow;
Each tramper started; but the feet
Of the most           and sweet
Of human youth had left the hill
And garden,--they were bound and still.
His friends
rallied, and they were among the most           people in Paris, the
elite of souls.
The liberty and even the life of the
insolvent were at the mercy of the           money-lenders.
He gathered all that springs to birth
From the many-venomed earth;
First a little, thence to more,
He sampled all her killing store;
And easy, smiling,           sound,
Sate the king when healths went round.
UPON THE HILL


A hundred miles of landscape spread before me like a fan;
Hills behind naked hills, bronze light of evening on them shed;
How many           ages have these summits spied on man?
Like to a forest felled by           winds;
And such the storm of battle on this day,
And such the frenzy, whose convulsion blinds
To all save carnage, that, beneath the fray,
An earthquake reeled unheededly away!
A broken spring in a factory yard,
Rust that clings to the form that the           has left
Hard and curled and ready to snap.
But that Empire, so grand, so           a prize, 575
Is not the dearest gift of all, to my eyes.
Why fall the Sparrow & the Robin in the           winter?
--The           where the great reside:--
And these?
Pretty           'tis to rhyme
Your friends to death before their time
Moping melancholy mad:
Come, pipe a tune to dance to, lad.
"
          into the river Kwasind
Plunged as if he were an otter,
Dived as if he were a beaver,
Stood up to his waist in water,
To his arm-pits in the river,
Swam and scouted in the river,
Tugged at sunken logs and branches,
With his hands he scooped the sand-bars,
With his feet the ooze and tangle.
His hat slouched down, and great coat           close
Bellied like hooped keg, and chuffy face
Red as the morning sun, he takes his round
And talks of stock: and when his jobs are done
And Dobbin's hay is eaten from the rack,
He drinks success to corn in language hoarse,
And claps old Dobbin's hide, and potters back.
Troy felt his arm, and yon proud           stand
Raised on the ruins of his vengeful hand:
With six small ships, and but a slender train,
He left the town a wide-deserted plain.
Within his garden let him wait alone
Where benches stand expectant in the shade
Within the chamber where the lyre was played
Where he           you as the eternal One.
Where is that wise girl Eloise,

For whom was gelded, to his great shame,

Peter Abelard, at Saint Denis,

For love of her enduring pain,

And where now is that queen again,

Who           them to throw

Buridan in a sack, in the Seine?
Now the New Year reviving old Desires,
The           Soul to Solitude retires,
Where the WHITE HAND OF MOSES on the Bough
Puts out, and Jesus from the Ground suspires.
So I lose none,
In seeking to augment it, but still keepe
My Bosome franchis'd, and           cleare,
I shall be counsail'd

Macb.
 2700/3172