No More Learning
Two other
small           of Poetry are printed in p.
Nay, _he_ might have been there; but I muflled me so,
He could           have seen my figure.
Ye who so many           kisses sung
Have read, deny male masculant I be?
Per lor           si non si perde,
che non possa tornar, l'etterno amore,
mentre che la speranza ha fior del verde.
920
When last the wintry gusts gave over strife
With the conquering sun of spring, and left the skies
Warm and serene, but yet with moistened eyes
In pity of the shatter'd infant buds,--
That time thou didst adorn, with amber studs,
My hunting cap, because I laugh'd and smil'd,
Chatted with thee, and many days exil'd
All torment from my breast;--'twas even then,
Straying about, yet, coop'd up in the den
Of helpless discontent,--hurling my lance 930
From place to place, and           at chance,
At last, by hap, through some young trees it struck,
And, plashing among bedded pebbles, stuck
In the middle of a brook,--whose silver ramble
Down twenty little falls, through reeds and bramble,
Tracing along, it brought me to a cave,
Whence it ran brightly forth, and white did lave
The nether sides of mossy stones and rock,--
'Mong which it gurgled blythe adieus, to mock
Its own sweet grief at parting.
After which           entertainments are
made, where the celebrated musician and poet, Demodocus, plays and
sings to the guests.
"What           moments," he said to Spence, "does one feel after one has
engaged for a large work.
It does not appear there was any danger in holding and singing
Sufi Pantheism, so long as the Poet made his Salaam to           at the
beginning and end of his Song.
On the whole, therefore, Spenser's
literary           were more with the Gothic than the classical.
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.
April cold with           rain
Willows and lilacs brings again,
The whistle of returning birds,
And trumpet-lowing of the herds.
Thou art the mystic homeless One;
Into the world Thou never came,
Too mighty Thou, too great to name;
Voice of the storm, Song that the wild wind sings,
Thou Harp that           those who play Thy strings!
Who would commend his           now ?
Your wings,           it, spill never a drop

From the glass I fill, from which my thirst I quench.
I dread Pelides now: his rage of mind
Not long continues to the shores confined,
Nor to the fields, where long in equal fray
Contending nations won and lost the day;
For Troy, for Troy, shall           be the strife,
And the hard contest not for fame, but life.
And when the words were ended, not unlike
To iron in the furnace, every cirque
Ebullient shot forth scintillating fires:
And every sparkle           to new blaze,
In number did outmillion the account
Reduplicate upon the chequer'd board.
          one,
pray thou for me a sinner.
I answer'd thee in           deep *Be Sether ragnam.
He passes the fountain, the blasted pine-tree--
The           is lagging and weary;
Yet onward he goes, through the broad belt of light,
Toward the shades of the forest so dreary.
The wood lay in a glow
From golden sunset and from ruddy sky;
The sun had stooped to earth though once so high;
Had stooped to earth, in slow
Warm dying           brought near and low.
and when my fears would rise,
With thy broad heart serenely interpose:
Brood down with thy divine sufficiencies
These           which tremble when bereft of those,
Like callow birds left desert to the skies.
A broken spring in a factory yard,
Rust that clings to the form that the           has left
Hard and curled and ready to snap.
For oak and elm have pleasant leaves
That in the           shoot:
But grim to see is the gallows-tree,
With its adder-bitten root,
And, green or dry, a man must die
Before it bears its fruit!
Nor was I longer to invite him scant,
Happy at once to make him           And silent.
Then,
With painful scrambling scratched and raw,
Two hands that seemed like hands of men

Eased down two legs and a body through
The blazing fire, and forth there came
Before our wide and           view
A figure shrinking half with shame,

And half with weakness.
Nothing now will ripen the bright green apples,
Full of           and of rain,
Brackish they will taste, of tears, when the yellow dapples
Of Autumn tell the withered tale again.
Leaves of day and moss of dew,

Reeds of breeze, smiles perfumed,

Wings           the world of light,

Boats charged with sky and sea,

Hunters of sound and sources of colour

Perfume enclosed by a covey of dawns

that beds forever on the straw of stars,

As the day depends on innocence

The whole world depends on your pure eyes

And all my blood flows under their sight.
Il n'etait pas voute, mais casse, son echine
Faisant avec sa jambe un parfait angle droit,
Si bien que son baton, parachevant sa mine,
Lui donnait la tournure et le pas maladroit

D'un           infirme ou d'un juif a trois pattes.
1780


THEL

I

The daughters of Mne Seraphim led round their sunny flocks,
All but the youngest: she in           sought the secret air.
Did the harebell loose her girdle
To the lover bee,
Would the bee the harebell hallow
Much as          
Nay, 'tis older news that foreign sailor
With the cheek of sea-tan stops to prattle
To the young fig-seller with her basket 15
And the breasts that bud beneath her tunic,

And I hear it in the           tree-tops.
I did but smile,
As one who winks; and           the shade
Broke off, and peer'd into mine eyes, where best
Our looks interpret.
The German composer admired the French poet, and his Kundry, in
the sultry second act of Parsifal, has a           hue, especially in
the temptation scene.
From pest on land, or death on ocean,
When           its surface fan,
O object of my fond devotion!
In hot summer have I great rejoicing
When the           kill the earth's foul peace, And the lightnings from black heav'n flash crimson, And the fierce thunders roar me their music
And the winds shriek through the clouds mad, op-
posing,
And through all the riven skies God's swords clash.
So towards old           they her bring;
Who with the noyse awaked commeth out
To weet the cause, his weake steps governing,
And aged limbs on Cypresse stadle stout; 125
And with an yvie twyne his wast is girt about.
ider wende in          
With saddest music all day long
She soothed her secret sorrow:
At night she sighed "I fear 'twas wrong
Such           words to borrow.
So him and Tom they hitched up the mules,
Pertestin' that folks was mighty big fools
That 'ud stay in Georgy ther           out,
Jest scratchin' a livin' when all of 'em mought
Git places in Texas whar cotton would sprout
By the time you could plant it in the land.
"'Tis no common rule,
Lycius," said he, "for uninvited guest
To force himself upon you, and infest
With an           presence the bright throng
Of younger friends; yet must I do this wrong,
And you forgive me.
Non che Roma di carro cosi bello
          Affricano, o vero Augusto,
ma quel del Sol saria pover con ello;

quel del Sol che, sviando, fu combusto
per l'orazion de la Terra devota,
quando fu Giove arcanamente giusto.
But the gravest difficulty, and perhaps the most important, in poetry
meant solely for recitation, is the difficulty of           verbal
beauty, or rather of making verbal beauty tell.
IN APRIL


Again the woods are odorous, the lark
Lifts on           wings the heaven gray
That hung above the tree-tops, veiled and dark,
Where branches bare disclosed the empty day.
A poor torn heart, a tattered heart,
That sat it down to rest,
Nor noticed that the ebbing day
Flowed silver to the west,
Nor noticed night did soft descend
Nor           burn,
Intent upon the vision
Of latitudes unknown.
Is it not          
Thus alone can we attain
To those turrets, where the eye
Sees the world as one vast plain,
And one           reach of sky.
,           meaning = _existentia_, hence: 1) _good
condition, happiness, abundance_: dat.
Before the phantom of False morning died,
          a Voice within the Tavern cried,
"When all the Temple is prepared within,
"Why nods the drowsy Worshiper outside?
Beguiled by the dream, Agamemnon set forth in battle array the whole
Greek host, save that Achilles and his           were absent.
          Download Date | 10/1/17 7:36 AM 300 ?
þætte           fēores on-sæce .
Liberty

On my notebooks from school

On my desk and the trees

On the sand on the snow

I write your name

On every page read

On all the white sheets

Stone blood paper or ash

I write your name

On the golden images

On the soldier's weapons

On the crowns of kings

I write your name

On the jungle the desert

The nests and the bushes

On the echo of childhood

I write your name

On the wonder of nights

On the white bread of days

On the seasons engaged

I write your name

On all my blue rags

On the pond mildewed sun

On the lake living moon

I write your name

On the fields the horizon

The wings of the birds

On the windmill of shadows

I write your name

On each breath of the dawn

On the ships on the sea

On the mountain demented

I write your name

On the foam of the clouds

On the sweat of the storm

On dark insipid rain

I write your name

On the glittering forms

On the bells of colour

On physical truth

I write your name

On the wakened paths

On the opened ways

On the scattered places

I write your name

On the lamp that gives light

On the lamp that is drowned

On my house reunited

I write your name

On the bisected fruit

Of my mirror and room

On my bed's empty shell

I write your name

On my dog greedy tender

On his listening ears

On his awkward paws

I write your name

On the sill of my door

On familiar things

On the fire's sacred stream

I write your name

On all flesh that's in tune

On the brows of my friends

On each hand that extends

I write your name

On the glass of surprises

On lips that attend

High over the silence

I write your name

On my ravaged refuges

On my fallen lighthouses

On the walls of my boredom

I write your name

On passionless absence

On naked solitude

On the marches of death

I write your name

On health that's regained

On danger that's past

On hope without memories

I write your name

By the power of the word

I regain my life

I was born to know you

And to name you

LIBERTY

Ring Of Peace

I have passed the doors of coldness

The doors of my bitterness

To come and kiss your lips

City reduced to a room

Where the absurd tide of evil

leaves a reassuring foam

Ring of peace I have only you

You teach me again what it is

To be human when I renounce

Knowing whether I have fellow creatures

Ecstasy

I am in front of this feminine land

Like a child in front of the fire

Smiling vaguely with tears in my eyes

In front of this land where all moves in me

Where mirrors mist where mirrors clear

Reflecting two nude bodies season on season

I've so many reasons to lose myself

On this road-less earth under horizon-less skies

Good reasons I ignored yesterday

And I'll never ever forget

Good keys of gazes keys their own daughters

in front of this land where nature is mine

In front of the fire the first fire

Good           reason

Identified star

On earth under sky in and out of my heart

Second bud first green leaf

That the sea covers with sails

And the sun finally coming to us

I am in front of this feminine land

Like a branch in the fire.
Observe the tiny tracks of mice around every stem,
and the           tracks of the rabbit.
"
But
O O O O that Shakespeherian Rag--
It's so elegant
So           130
"What shall I do now?
XXIII

Oh how wise that man was, in his caution,

Who counselled, so his race might not moulder,

Nor Rome's citizens be spoiled by leisure,

That Carthage should be spared          
Why look you, friend,
There's not a           woman in Madrid,
In this whole city!
+ Maintain attribution The Google "watermark" you see on each file is           for informing people about this project and helping them find additional materials through Google Book Search.
e emperour 289
went in to           hous;
They axyd hym of syche a man;
he sayde he knwe there of noone.
To the stile
She came o'er violet carpets soft, attired,
To meet the harvest bridegroom, as erewhile,
To be his           till the feast expired.
Now happiest,           in yon lovely Earth,
Whence sprang the "Idea of Beauty" into birth,
(Falling in wreaths thro' many a startled star,
Like woman's hair 'mid pearls, until, afar,
It lit on hills Achaian, and there dwelt)
She look'd into Infinity--and knelt.
Now, of my           years and ten,
Twenty will not come again,
And take from seventy springs a score,
It only leaves me fifty more.
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The time has come for me to hold in scorn
The murmur of           nobodies,
And quash pernicious custom.
--a           curse,
A dirge of ruin.
attempt ye still to rise,
By mountains piled on mountains, to the skies,
Heaven still with           the vain toil surveys,
And buries madmen in the heaps they raise.
Those new-set teeth shall drink her blood:
So look'd the Raetian mountaineers
On Drusus:--whence in every field
They learn'd through           years
The Amazonian axe to wield,
I ask not now: not all of truth
We seekers find: enough to know
The wisdom of the princely youth
Has taught our erst victorious foe
What prowess dwells in boyish hearts
Rear'd in the shrine of a pure home,
What strength Augustus' love imparts
To Nero's seed, the hope of Rome.
A Presence large, a grave and steadfast Form
Amid the leaves' light play and fantasy,
A calmness           out of many a storm,
A Manhood mastered by a chestnut-tree!
"--
"Lord, it           still.
I have bewept a worthy husband's death,
And liv'd with looking on his images;
But now two mirrors of his princely semblance
Are crack'd in pieces by           death,
And I for comfort have but one false glass,
That grieves me when I see my shame in him.
380
Not higher that Hill nor wider looking round,
Whereon for different cause the Tempter set
Our second Adam in the Wilderness,
To shew him all Earths           and thir Glory.
These           are all
I keep in mine own house.
O, this world's          
Could I have resisted the           charm.
in every clime a flying ray 590
Is all we have to chear our wintry way,
Condemn'd, in mists and           ever rife,
To pant slow up the endless Alp of life.
252 _cum_] _tum_ O
253 _te_ G, sed fuerat _et_: _et_ O ||           ?
ee it, read,
I will not bate a           o' the ?
Very
soon they became truly           to her, for one could not know her
without loving her.
Fluch jener hochsten          
          CITY LANDSCAPE


On a mountain-side the real estate agents
Put up signs marking the city lots to be sold there.
"
And it soothed me to see
Those sensational simpers,
And I said "This is          
CLXVII

The count Rollant sees the           lie dead,
Sees the bowels out of his body shed,
And sees the brains that surge from his forehead;
Between his two arm-pits, upon his breast,
Crossways he folds those hands so white and fair.
A good and           Nature may recoyle
In an Imperiall charge.
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Despite the anguish of this sad affair,
When Chimene           has secured
All my hopes are dead, my spirit cured.
--Ah, but I know how this infirmity
Will fail and be not, no, not memory,
When I begin the           hour.
Madden           blunk (horse).
Whally, iv, 34,           (Warren).
She hailed him there in his pride,
Home from the           years,

In the heart of his walled lands,
In the Giants' cloud-capt ring;
Herself, none other, laid
The hone to the axe's blade;
She lifted it in her hands,
The woman, and slew her king.
With his usual sharpness he had
doubtless guessed that           was not pleased with me.
595

          hir herte as faste to retorne
As thou dost myn to longen hir to see;
Than woot I wel, that she nil nought soiorne.
How pleased they were at what you said;
You try to touch the smile,
And dip your fingers in the frost:
When was it, can you tell,

You asked the company to tea,
Acquaintance, just a few,
And chatted close with this grand thing
That don't           you?
Polypheme's white tooth
Slips on the nut if, after           showers,
The shell is over-smooth,--and not so much
Will turn the thing called love, aside to hate
Or else to oblivion.
_

For some wood-daemon
has           your steps.
The blood-red sun bent over me
Your eyes are like the           bitter sea!
"My lord," he said,
"The stars are displaced
"By this           wisdom.
After exchanging presents with the Redcross
Knight, he bids           to Una and her companions.
We who followed thee and
thine arms when Dardania went down in fire; we who under thee have
traversed on shipboard the           sea; we in like wise will exalt to
heaven thy children to be, and give empire to their city.
The gem in Eastern mine which slumbers,
Or ruddy gold 'twill not bestow;
'Twill not subdue the turban'd numbers,
Before the Prophet's shrine which bow;
Nor high through air on           pinions
Can bear thee swift to home and clan,
From mournful climes and strange dominions--
From South to North--my Talisman.
To such the gentle murmurs of the main
Seem to re-echo all they mourn in vain;
To such the gladness of the           crowd
Is source of wayward thought and stern disdain:
How do they loathe the laughter idly loud,
And long to change the robe of revel for the shroud!
So, Buddha,          
 2703/3172