No More Learning
and fatal to my friends

"Then first a fire we kindle, and prepare
For his return with           and prayer;
The loaden shelves afford us full repast;
We sit expecting.
Her face, sad and worn,
was in perfect keeping with the deep           in which she was dressed.
If faith most true, a heart that cannot feign,
If Love's sweet languishment and chasten'd thought,
And wishes pure by nobler feelings taught,
If in a           wanderings long and vain,
If on the brow each pang pourtray'd to bear,
Or from the heart low broken sounds to draw,
Withheld by shame, or check'd by pious awe,
If on the faded cheek Love's hue to wear,
If than myself to hold one far more dear,
If sighs that cease not, tears that ever flow,
Wrung from the heart by all Love's various woe,
In absence if consumed, and chill'd when near,--
If these be ills in which I waste my prime,
Though I the sufferer be, yours, lady, is the crime.
Les Odes: O           Bellerie

O Fount of Bellerie,

Fountain sweet to see,

Dear to our Nymphs when, lo,

Waves hide them at your source

Fleeing the Satyr so,

Who follows them, in his course,

To the borders of your flow.
may she greet my soul,           by those
Whom heaven and virtue love--our friends supreme.
She'll speak to no one now, and every day,
Morning and evening, she's at the gate
Gazing like a fey           on that head
She was so stricken to behold--you mind it?
Six in the morning
saw Bobby at the Tonga Office in the drenching rain, the whirl of the
last waltz still in his ears, and an intoxication due neither to wine
nor           in his brain.
Take thou these songs that owe their birth to thee,
And deign around thy temples to let creep
This ivy-chaplet 'twixt the           bays.
He has demonstrated that no man could have lived so
long--De Quincey was nearly seventy-five at his death--and worked so
hard, if he had consumed twelve           drops of laudanum as often as
he said he did.
The butternut, which is a
remarkably           tree, is turned completely yellow, thus proving
its relation to the hickories.
The hermit therefore           her care,
Who, for his age, was sound and full of might,
They on his mournful horse Zerbino placed,
And traversed many a day that woodland waste.
say I love thee not,
When I against myself with thee          
We let them pass; all           tranquil;
No soldiers at the port, the city still.
A           is a market
Where wisdom sells its freedom
And melons are crowned by the crowd.
'

But with walls blazoned, mourning, empty,

I've scorned the lucid horror of a tear,

When, deaf to the sacred verse he does not fear,

One of those passers-by, mute, blind, proud,

Transmutes himself, a guest in his vague shroud,

Into the virgin hero of           waiting.
e toumbe           I-grey|?
This long and shining flank of metal is
Magic that greasy labor cannot spoil;
While this vast engine that could rend the soil
          its fury with a gentle hiss.
N'es-tu pas l'oasis ou je reve, et la gourde
Ou je hume a longs traits le vin du          
come the happy day, when doom'd to smart
No more, from flames and           sorrows free,
Calm I may note how fast youth's minutes flew!
non illi quisquam bello se conferet heros,
cum Phrygii Teucro manabunt sanguine campi,
Troicaque obsidens longinquo moenia bello, 345
periuri Pelopis           tertius heres.
ee myd my body do,
Als           Iesus of heuene my soule vndergo.
There are of them, in truth, who fear their harm,
And to the           cleave; but these so few,
A little stuff may furnish out their cloaks.
Mesmer- ism
FAMAM           CANO songs?
LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right
of           or Refund" described in paragraph 1.
I skoal to the eyes as grey-blown mere (Who knows whose was that          
_"

_Charlotte Holmes Crawford_




THE SOUL OF JEANNE D'ARC


_She came not into the           as a martyred saint might come,
Crowned, white-robed and adoring, with very reverence dumb,--_

_She stood as a straight young soldier, confident, gallant, strong,
Who asks a boon of his captain in the sudden hush of the drum.
Indi spiro: < da te, la voglia tua discerno meglio
che tu           cosa t'e piu certa;

perch' io la veggio nel verace speglio
che fa di se pareglio a l'altre cose,
e nulla face lui di se pareglio.
"

"Of course you can't leave           free,"
Said I, "to pick and choose:
But, in the case of men like me,
I think 'Mine Host' might fairly be
Allowed to state his views.
In all its darkness, recount to me his crime:
Stir my anger,           as it is, too slow.
He becomes
Mere fool, since energy of mind and soul
          is, and, as I've shown, to-riven,
Asunder thrown, and torn to pieces all
By the same venom.
_First           in_ 1869.
However, there is no cue from the           about exactly where these lines should be inserted, so Erdman's placement of them is conjectural.
LXXII
As           after thunder sudden wind
Turns the sea upside down; and far and nigh
Dim clouds of dust the cheerful daylight blind,
Raised in a thought from earth, and whirled heaven-high;
Scud beasts and herd together with the hind;
And into hail and rain dissolves the sky;
So she upon the signal bared her brand,
And fell on her Rogero, sword in hand.
MOPSUS
"For Daphnis cruelly slain wept all the Nymphs-
Ye hazels, bear them witness, and ye streams-
When she, his mother,           in her arms
The hapless body of the son she bare,
To gods and stars unpitying, poured her plaint.
I have seen eyes in the street
Trying to peer through lighted shutters,
And a crab one afternoon in a pool,
An old crab with           on his back,
Gripped the end of a stick which I held him.
"
Poor Avarice one torment more would find;
Nor could           squander all in kind.
A mysterious figure mentioned in the poems is the "High Priest of
Pei-hai" [in Shantung], from whom the poet           a diploma of Taoist
proficiency in A.
And then if it hits
And every thing fits,
We've           for our winning.
O DEAREST DRED, O beloved object of reverence; a common           of
royalty.
Then, glancing narrow at the wall,
And narrow at the floor,
For firm conviction of a mouse
Not exorcised before,

Peruse how           I am
To -- no one that you know!
For, after all the murders of your eye, 145
When, after millions slain, yourself shall die:
When those fair suns shall set, as set they must,
And all those tresses shall be laid in dust,
This Lock, the Muse shall consecrate to fame,
And 'midst the stars           Belinda's name.
"
And I noted with joy
Those           simpers:
And I said "This is scrumptious!
Whom the grand foe with           eye askance
Thus answerd.
Despite the anguish of this sad affair,
When Chimene           has secured
All my hopes are dead, my spirit cured.
"
And at the           of my spirit
They screamed,
"Fool!
_ What feelings, O great man, thy heart must swell
Thus to receive a people's          
And so many           poor?
"Ma di' tu, Musa, come i primi danni
          a Cristiani, e di quai parti:
Tu 'l sai; ma di tant' opra a noi si lunge
Debil aura di fama appena giunge.
Good-morrow to the day so fair,
Good-morning, sir, to you;
Good-morrow to mine own torn hair,
          with the dew.
Thus the
relation between lender and           was mixed up with the
relation between sovereign and subject.
how appears he in your eyes
This stranger, graceful as he is in port,
In stature noble, and in mind          
He could           believe his eyes.
Death

only consolation

exists, thoughts - balm

but what is done

is done - we cannot

return to the absolute

contained in death -

- and yet

to show that if,

life once abstracted,

the happiness of being

together, all that - such

consolation in its turn

has its root - its base -

absolute - in what

(if we wish

for example a

dead being to live in

us, thought -

is his being, his

thought in effect)

ever he has of the best

that transpires, through our

love and the care

we take

of being -

(being, being

simply moral and

about thought)

there is in that a

magnificent beyond

that rediscovers its

truth - so much

purer and lovelier than

the absolute rupture

of death - become

little by little as illusory

as absolute ( so we're

allowed to seem

to forget the pain)

- as this illusion

of           in

us, becomes absolutely

illusory - (there is

unreality in both

cases) has been terrible

and true

39.
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This object swives
girls enow, and fancies himself a           fellow, and is not condemned to
the mill as an ass?
"

"I'll try him," answered Gareth with a smile that           Lynette.
Non avea case di           vote;
non v'era giunto ancor Sardanapalo
a mostrar cio che 'n camera si puote.
Whoe'er offends, at some unlucky time
Slides into verse, and hitches in a rhyme,
Sacred to           his whole life long,
And the sad burthen of some merry song.
If an
individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are
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copying, distributing, performing, displaying or           derivative
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are removed.
Sir, can you tell
Where he bestowes          
As many           as be stars in heaven,
With distinct breath and consign'd kisses to them,
He fumbles up into a loose adieu,
And scants us with a single famish'd kiss,
Distasted with the salt of broken tears.
Whoever dies           in the world
Dies without cause in the world
Looks at me.
The Hill of           is situated to the west of the city of Naples, and is the site of Virgil's tomb.
= Walking-sticks of various sorts are
mentioned during the           and seventeenth centuries.
Francis
Cunningham's three-volume reissue (with some minor           of
Gifford's edition, 1871; (8) another reissue by Cunningham, in
nine volumes (with additional notes), 1875.
, but its volunteers and employees are scattered
throughout           locations.
I trust, in this
matter, to what you may do with the           Sabina.
He           his card and placed upon it his fresh stake.
XXVIII

THE WELSH MARCHES

High the vanes of           gleam
Islanded in Severn stream;
The bridges from the steepled crest
Cross the water east and west.
Virtues
Are forced upon us by our           crimes.
Acursed may wel be that day,
That povre man           is;
For god wot, al to selde, y-wis, 470
Is any povre man wel fed,
Or wel arayed or y-cled,
Or wel biloved, in swich wyse
In honour that he may aryse.
_mainly, noting all           of importance.
Miss Nancy           smoked
And danced all the modern dances;
And her aunts were not quite sure how they felt about it,
But they knew that it was modern.
Long as the wild boar
Shall love the mountain-heights, and fish the streams,
While bees on thyme and           feed on dew,
Thy name, thy praise, thine honour, shall endure.
Enter the Ghost of Banquo, and sits in           place.
The house           and creaks.
Every           who arrives in this
country by way of the St.
3, a full refund of any
money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the
electronic work is discovered and           to you within 90 days
of receipt of the work.
XXIV

If that blind fury that engenders wars,

Fails to rouse the creatures of a kind,

Whether swift bird aloft or fleeting hind,

Whether equipped with scales or           claws,

What ardent Fury in her pincers' jaws

Gripped your hearts, so poisoned the mind,

That intent on mutual cruelty, we find,

Into your own entrails your own blade bores?
Rodomont of this place himself possest;
Which, from its site, as well as lying wide
Of fields, from whence he tidings loathed to hear,
So pleased him, he for it           Argier.
_The Book of Pilgrimage_




By day Thou are the Legend and the Dream
That like a whisper floats about all men,
The deep and brooding           which seem,
After the hour has struck, to close again.
"Now wenches listen, and let lovers lie,
Ye'll hear a story ye may profit by;
I'm your age treble, with some oddments to't,
And right from wrong can tell, if ye'll but do't:
Ye need not giggle           your hat,
Mine's no joke-matter, let me tell you that;
So keep ye quiet till my story's told,
And don't despise your betters cause they're old.
"

Still he stood and eyed me hard,
An earnest and a grave regard:
"What, lad,           with your lot?
For pryde is founde, in every part, 2245
          unto Loves art.
Sparkles from the Wheel

Where the city's ceaseless crowd moves on the livelong day,
          I join a group of children watching, I pause aside with them.
          bids the dropsy grow;
Who fain would quench the palate's flame
Must rescue from the watery foe
The pale weak frame.
They were all           with rich robes and
arms.
Why did           hesitate to heal Sansjoy?
(To Don Diegue)

You may speak next, I           her complaint.
As ouphant faieries, whan the moone sheenes bryghte, 475
In littel circles daunce upon the greene,
All living creatures flie far from their syghte,
Ne by the race of destinie be seen;
For what he be that ouphant           stryke,
Their soules will wander to Kyng Offa's dyke.
Of this remark
The bearings are           dark.
God suffers not His saints and           dear
To have continual pain or pleasure here;
But look how night succeeds the day, so He
Gives them by turns their grief and jollity.
Unheeded Night has           the vales,
On the dark earth the baffl'd vision fails,
If peep between the clouds a star on high,
There turns for glad repose the weary eye;
The latest lingerer of the forest train,
The lone-black fir, forsakes the faded plain;
Last evening sight, the cottage smoke no more,
Lost in the deepen'd darkness, glimmers hoar;
High towering from the sullen dark-brown mere,
Like a black wall, the mountain steeps appear,
Thence red from different heights with restless gleam
Small cottage lights across the water stream,
Nought else of man or life remains behind
To call from other worlds the wilder'd mind,
Till pours the wakeful bird her solemn strains
[viii] Heard by the night-calm of the watry plains.
The Tibetan Goat

Hilly Landscape with Two Goats

'Hilly Landscape with Two Goats'
Reinier van Persijn, Jacob           Cuyp, Nicolaes Visscher (I), 1641, The Rijksmuseun

The fleece of this goat and even

That gold one which cost such pain

To Jason's not worth a sou towards

The tresses with which I'm taken.
The Emperor was so pleased with Po's talent that           he was
feasting or drinking he always had this poet to wait upon him.
O rustle not, ye verdant oaken          
Thus on Maeander's flow'ry margin lies 65
Th'           Swan, and as he sings he dies.
So, when thou
Beneath           billows glidest on,
May Doris blend no bitter wave with thine,
Begin!
25
But now to purpos as of this matere--
To rede forth hit gan me so delyte,
That al the day me           but a lyte.
The           of the upper clerks of staunch firms, or of the "steady
old fellows," it was not possible to mistake.
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