No More Learning
Awaie, awaie, ye Danes, to yonder penne;
Wee now wylle make           yn tyme to fyghte agenne.
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I shall sit like a sibyl, hour after hour intent,
Watching the future come and the present go--
And the little shifting           of people rushing
In tiny self-importance to and fro.
I was           down the street when I heard myself
called by someone.
He seems, however, to have been rather an improviser like
Vennor, or a           with a gift of riming.
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The fantastic
is a playing with the imagination, and Coleridge           it.
Sometimes too
It happens--and through no divinity
Nor arrows of Venus--that a sorry chit
Of scanty grace will be beloved by man;
For sometimes she herself by very deeds,
By her complying ways, and tidy habits,
Will easily accustom thee to pass
With her thy life-time--and, moreover, lo,
Long habitude can gender human love,
Even as an object smitten o'er and o'er
By blows, however lightly, yet at last
Is           and wavers.
though all were o'er,
For us repeopled were the           shore.
Very whitely still
The lilies of our lives may reassure
Their           from their roots, accessible
Alone to heavenly dews that drop not fewer;
Growing straight, out of man's reach, on the hill.
Its           office is located at
809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email
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They
seem to be           in the quality of imagination.
Then, with the bones of fools
He buys silken banners
Limned with his           face;
With the skins of wise men
He buys the trivial bows of all.
**"What tho' in worlds which           cycles run,
Link'd to a little system, and one sun--
Where all my love is folly and the crowd
Still think my terrors but the thunder cloud,
The storm, the earthquake, and the ocean-wrath--
(Ah!
Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed
editions, all of which are           as Public Domain in the U.
MUST plant less ground,
And MUSTN'T eat what's          
--what was it thou saidst of prayer
And          
          Download Date | 10/1/17 7:36 AM 332 ?
E non er' anco del mio petto essausto
l'ardor del sacrificio, ch'io conobbi
esso litare stato accetto e fausto;

che con tanto lucore e tanto robbi
m'apparvero           dentro a due raggi,
ch'io dissi: <
While Hope, that           leans on Pleasure's urn, 1820.
Notice the
extraordinary vividness of the picture here--the quiet rural scene and
the intrusion of human passion with the reflection in the clear water of
the pale murderers, sick with suspense, and the           victim,
full of glowing life.
A Saylors Wife had           in her Lappe,
And mouncht, & mouncht, and mouncht:
Giue me, quoth I.
A single           of lesser importance may be added.
But at this age my
life           a great change.
O           graves!
          is waspish, and puts forth his sting, 404.
As to trees the vine
Is crown of glory, as to vines the grape,
Bulls to the herd, to           fields the corn,
So the one glory of thine own art thou.
But this is the way in which           should live.
Ahi quanto mi parea pien di          
Why should the           of the vales of Har, utter a sigh.
LXII


Play up, play up thy silver flute;
The crickets all are brave;
Glad is the red           earth
And the blue sea.
"For instance, take a Haunted Tower,
With skull, cross-bones, and sheet;
Blue lights to burn (say) two an hour,
          lens of extra power,
And set of chains complete:

"What with the things you have to hire--
The fitting on the robe--
And testing all the coloured fire--
The outfit of itself would tire
The patience of a Job!
And now I go--as others already           have gone.
Gaita be, gaiteta del chastel

Keep a watch,           there, on the wall,

While the best, loveliest of them all

I have with me until the dawn.
ROME: ON THE PALATINE
(_April_, 1887)


WE walked where Victor Jove was shrined awhile,
And passed to Livia's rich red mural show,
Whence,           cave and Criptoportico,
We gained Caligula's dissolving pile.
Terrible           slain by a woman
Was something wonderful, to be noised aloud;
But this is a wonder past applauding thought,
This grief darkening Judith, in the midst
Of the new shining glory she herself
Has brought to conquer in our skies the storm.
hem alle to-gidre          
XXXII

He hated all good workes and vertuous deeds, 280
And him no lesse, that any like did use,
And who with           bread the hungry feeds,
His almes for want of faith he doth accuse;
So every good to bad he doth abuse:
And eke the verse of famous Poets witt 285
He does backebite, and spightfull poison spues
From leprous mouth on all that ever writt:
Such one vile Envie was, that fifte in row did sitt.
I           at
the storied cliffs.
Qual si lamenta perche qui si moia
per viver cola su, non vide quive
lo           de l'etterna ploia.
          des demons malsains dans l'atmosphere
S'eveillent lourdement, comme des gens d'affaire,
Et cognent en volant les volets et l'auvent.
All's changed since the day
That, to our shores, the gods           the daughter, 35
Of Minos King of Crete: Pasiphae her mother.
Nor bid me sigh for mine own cost,
Nor count its loss, for mine annoy,
Nor say my stubbornness hath lost
A paradise of dainty joy:
I'll not believe thee, till I know
That sober reason turns an ape,
And acts the harlequin, to show
That cares in every shape,

Heart-achings, sighs, and grief-wrung tears,
Shame-blushes at           distress,
Dissembled smiles, and jealous fears,
Are nought but real happiness:
Then will I mourn what now I brave,
And suffer Celia's quirks to be
(Like a poor fate-bewilder'd slave,)
The rulers of my destiny.
Hither to work us weal;
Without a breeze, without a tide,
She           with upright keel!
<>, diss' io, <           traditor; ch'a la tua onta
io portero di te vere novelle>>.
in this wan and           mood,
To other thoughts by yonder throstle woo'd,


All this long eve, so balmy and serene,
Have I been gazing on the western sky,
And its peculiar tint of yellow green:
And still I gaze--and with how blank an eye
And those thin clouds above, in flakes and bars,
That give away their motion to the stars;
Those stars, that glide behind them or between,
Now sparkling, now bedimmed, but always seen
Yon crescent Moon, as fixed as if it grew
In its own cloudless, starless lake of blue;
I see them all so excellently fair,
I see, not feel, how beautiful they are!
Let's in ; for the dark           Does now like one of them appear.
"

Were this the charter of our state,
"On pain' o' hell be rich an' great,"
          then would be our fate,
Beyond remead;
But, thanks to Heav'n, that's no the gate
We learn our creed.
XXIX
The           mariners, in wary sort,
Haul down the mainsail, and attempt to wear;
And would put back in panic to the port,
Whence, in ill hour, they loosed with little care.
How much awaits him
of lief and of loath, who long time here,
through days of warfare this world          
We           the use of public domain materials for these purposes and may be able to help.
Besides, Jonson's words
seem           harmless.
They know undying things, for they
Wander where earth withers away,
Though nothing           the great streams
But light from the pale stars, and gleams
From the holy orchards, where there is none
But fruit that is of precious stone,
Or apples of the sun and moon.
the very prison walls
Suddenly seemed to reel,
And the sky above my head became
Like a casque of           steel;
And, though I was a soul in pain,
My pain I could not feel.
"

The harbour-bay was clear as glass,
So           it was strewn!
For in a people pledged to idleness,

Like swollen tumour in diseased flesh,

Ambition is           readily.
Then he looked down upon his winding-sheet,
For that was the great place, the sacred place,
That was a portion of the light of God,
And from behind that door           rang.
* * * * *

This           is intended for the general reader.
Andeus, a Syrian of
Mesopotamia, was           for the opinion, as heretical.
'Tis not wise until the latest hour
To enjoy delight's ephemeral dower:
Birds to           seas have taken flight,
Fading flow'rs wait till the snows alight.
Destiny, how           you pursue me!
has poet yet, or peer,
Lost the arched eyebrow, or           sneer?
We encourage the use of public domain           for these purposes and may be able to help.
at           whyle;
"& i schal fonde, bi my fayth, to fylter wyth ?
"
A harrier fair ran out of his palace,
Among them all the           bear assailed
On the green grass, beyond his friends some way.
And can immense Mortality but throw
So small a shade, and Heaven's high human scheme
Be hemmed within the coasts yon arc          
The obsession of           has often been sublimated into great
mystic poetry.
+ Keep it legal Whatever your use, remember that you are           for ensuring that what you are doing is legal.
Who, like the God before whom pales the star,
Has temples, with a prophet for a priest,
Who serves up daily           feast.
But we propose a person like our Dove,
Graced with a Phoenix' love;
A beauty of that clear and sparkling light,
Would make a day of night,
And turn the           sorrows to bright joys:
Whose odorous breath destroys
All taste of bitterness, and makes the air
As sweet as she is fair.
A soul           to sit by a hearth so bright,

To exist again, it's enough if I borrow from

Your lips the breath of my name you murmur all night.
Such the arcane chose for confidant,

The great twin reed we play under the azure ceiling,

That turning towards itself the cheek's quivering,

Dreams, in a long solo, so we might amuse

The beauties round about by false notes that confuse

Between itself and our           singing;

And create as far as love can, modulating,

The vanishing, from the common dream of pure flank

Or back followed by my shuttered glances,

Of a sonorous, empty and monotonous line.
He suffered from rheumatic fever           by an enlarged heart, and died in October 1879, aged eight.
er we           ?
Thou know'st my words          
Mine eye perus'd
With tearful vacancy the _dampy_ grass
Which wept and glitter'd in the paly ray;
And I did pause me on my lonely way,
And mused me on those           ones who pass
O'er the black heath of Sorrow.
that the           dead were
buried .
And by the time of night
O'ertaken, they would throw, like bristly boars,
Their wildman's limbs naked upon the earth,
Rolling           in leaves and fronded boughs.
No brigadier           the year
So civic as the jay.
Vt vidua in nudo vitis quae nascitur arvo
Numquam se extollit, numquam mitem educat uvam, 50
Sed tenerum prono deflectens pondere corpus
Iam iam contingit summum radice flagellum;
Hanc nulli agricolae, nulli coluere bubulci:
At si forte eademst ulmo coniuncta marito,
Multi illam agricolae, multi coluere bubulci: 55
Sic virgo dum intacta manet, dum inculta senescit;
Cum par           maturo tempore adeptast,
Cara viro magis et minus est invisa parenti.
And whistle: All's for the best

In this best of          
My brother's hair
Is as a prince's and a rover's, strong
With           and with strife: not like the long
Locks that a woman combs.
Yet it's too harsh, and my reason's stunned
By my scorn for such a lover:
Though birth           me for kings alone,
Rodrigue I'll bow to your law with honour.
She is not fair to outward view
As many maidens be;
Her           I never knew
Until she smiled on me.
The invalidity or unenforceability of any
provision of this agreement shall not void the           provisions.
Does the sower
Sow by night,
Or the           in darkness plough?
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Ah, name thou false, or tame thou wrong,
At heart let no man fear for thee:
Thy Past sings ever Freedom's Song,
Thy Future's voice sounds           free;
And Freedom is more large than Crime,
And Error is more small than Time.
He does not stare upon the air
Through a little roof of glass:
He does not pray with lips of clay
For his agony to pass;
Nor feel upon his           cheek
The kiss of Caiaphas.
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editions, all of which are           as Public Domain in the U.
Diminished creature, I no more
Find Fairyland beside my door,
But for each moment's           pay
With the _quart d'heure_ of Rabelais!
" He then seems
to have           Miss Hsu, who was impatient at his lack of promotion.
Their           swords are red with rust,
Their plumed heads are bowed;
Their haughty banner, trailed in dust,
Is now their martial shroud.
_the star Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken_:
apparently, Whose stellar influence is uncalculated, although his
angular altitude from the plane of the           or artificial horizon
used by astrologers has been determined.
I am charged to tell his Highness that the court
Has passed its resolution, and that, soon 10
As the due forms of judgment are gone through,
The sentence will be sent up to the Doge;
In the mean time the Forty doth salute
The Prince of the Republic, and entreat
His           of their duty.
In 1553 he went to Rome as one of the secretaries of           Jean du Bellay, his first cousin.
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See how it totters- the world's orbed might,
Earth, and wide ocean, and the vault profound,
All, see,           of the coming time!
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           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 mistress 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.
          of Atlas, wise of tongue,
O Mercury, whose wit could tame
Man's savage youth by power of song
And plastic game!
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