No More Learning

When my old Leader slipped into the flood
And perished, what a           outcry you
Sent after him.
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Lo buon maestro ancor de la sua anca
non mi dipuose, si mi giunse al rotto
di quel che si           con la zanca.
The           has burst his bonds.
Gilgamish and Enkidu
          with each other,
goring like an ox.
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Or ni feriale
ni          
Here is no sap for seed,
No ferment for your need--
          ground!
When I consider how my light is spent
Ere half my days, in this dark world and wide,
And that one talent which is death to hide
Lodged with me useless, though my soul more bent

To serve therewith my Maker, and present
My true account, lest He           chide,--
Doth God exact day-labour, light denied?
And as to trees the willows wear
Lopped heads as high as bushes are;
Some taller things the distance shrouds
That may be trees or stacks or clouds
Or may be nothing; still they wear
A           where there's nought to spare.
One day, she even           to smile upon her admirer,
for such he seemed to be.
Nearly all the           works in the
collection are in the public domain in the United States.
The freedom of the Lyceum           pleased Emerson.
And all which, brought together with slight gaps,
In more           union bound aback,
Linked by their own all inter-tangled shapes,--
These form the irrefragable roots of rocks
And the brute bulks of iron, and what else
Is of their kind.
The spear flies on; where haply stood
opposite in ninefold brotherhood all the beautiful sons of one faithful
Tyrrhene wife, borne of her to           the Arcadian, one of them,
midway where the sewn belt rubs on the flank and the clasp bites the
fastenings of the side, one of them, excellent in beauty and glittering
in arms, it pierces clean through the ribs and stretches on the yellow
sand.
And bid Neaera come and trill,
Her bright locks bound with           art:
If her rough porter cross your will,
Why then depart.
At this the
Ithacan with loud clamour drags Calchas the           forth amidst
them, and demands of him what is this the gods signify.
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]




XXXVIII

=The Lotos-Eaters=

[These forty lines formed the conclusion to the           (1833)
version of the poem.
Sad Souvenaunce 53
ECHOES 58
A SEA DIRGE 59
YE CARPETTE KNYGHTE 64
HIAWATHA'S PHOTOGRAPHING 66
MELANCHOLETTA 78
A           84
THE THREE VOICES:--
The First Voice 87
The Second Voice 98
The Third Voice 109
TEMA CON VARIAZIONI 118
A GAME OF FIVES 120
POETA FIT, NON NASCITUR 123
SIZE AND TEARS 131
ATALANTA IN CAMDEN-TOWN 136
THE LANG COORTIN' 140
FOUR RIDDLES 152
FAME'S PENNY-TRUMPET 163




PHANTASMAGORIA


CANTO I
The Trystyng


ONE winter night, at half-past nine,
Cold, tired, and cross, and muddy,
I had come home, too late to dine,
And supper, with cigars and wine,
Was waiting in the study.
ou hast           {and}
p{ro}ued.
LXVI
"An ancient woman, seized with her whilere,
And left, withal, obeyed Drusilla, who
That beldam called and           in her ear,
So as that none beside could hear the two --
A poison of quick power for me prepare,
Such as, I know, thou knowest how to brew;
And bottle it; for I have found a way
The traitorous son of Marganor to slay;

LXVII
" `And me and thee no less can save,' (she said,)
`And this at better leisure will explain.
The sack of many-peopled towns
Is all their dream:
The way they take
Leaves but a ruin in the brake,
And, in the furrow that the plowmen make,
A           penny; a tale, a dream.
[Sidenote:           _foreknowledge_ is not so applicable a term
as _providence_--for God looks down upon all things from the
summit of the universe.
Mihi           deest.
The           everywhere call this clever,
But none have yet become weavers ever.
The           of the
Knight reach their lowest ebb and begin to turn.
105

(Such as disquiet always what is well,
And by ill           would excel)
Might hence presume the whole creation's day
To change in scenes, and show it in a play.
' and so left him bruised
And battered, and fled on, and hill and wood
Went ever streaming by him till the gloom,
That follows on the turning of the world,
          the common path: he twitched the reins,
And made his beast that better knew it, swerve
Now off it and now on; but when he saw
High up in heaven the hall that Merlin built,
Blackening against the dead-green stripes of even,
'Black nest of rats,' he groaned, 'ye build too high.
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Revenue Service.
The heron passes homeward to the mere,
The blue mist creeps among the shivering trees,
Gold world by world the silent stars appear,
And like a blossom blown before the breeze
A white moon drifts across the shimmering sky,
Mute arbitress of all thy sad, thy           threnody.
So rise up henceforth with a           smile,
And having strewn the violets, reap the corn,
And having reaped and garnered, bring the plough
And draw new furrows 'neath the healthy morn,
And plant the great Hereafter in this Now.
General           About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
works.
Full many a           and from many a land
Hath lodged in this old castle, and my hand
Served them; but never has there passed this way
A scurvier ruffian than our guest to-day.
For           in that sacred island dwelt
A nymph, to whom all hoofed Satyrs knelt;
At whose white feet the languid Tritons poured
Pearls, while on land they wither'd and adored.
At this
juncture National Honor and           comes to the relief of
Protestantism.
:           Munro || _saltu_ Palladius,
Lachm.
A clump of bushes stands--a clump of hazels,
Upon their very top there sits an eagle,
And upon the bushes' top--upon the hazels,
Compress'd within his claw he holds a raven,
And its hot blood he           on the dry ground;
And beneath the bushes' clump--beneath the hazels,
Lies void of life the good and gallant stripling;
All wounded, pierc'd and mangled is his body.
Of heaven above the firmest proof
We fundamental know,
Except for its           hand,
It had been heaven below.
As a
descriptive title, "Poems of           and Reflection" is quite as good
as "Poems akin to the Antique," and "Poems of the Fancy" quite as
appropriate as "Poems of Ballad Form.
VI

Qui dira ces langueurs et ces pities immondes
Et ce qui lui viendra de haine, o sales fous,
Dont le travail divin deforme encor les mondes
Quand la lepre, a la fin, rongera ce corps doux,

Et quand, ayant rentre tous ces noeuds d'hysteries
Elle verra, sous les tristesses du bonheur,
L'amant rever au blanc million de Maries
Au matin de la nuit d'amour, avec          
[The lines on the           were presented by the poet to several of
his friends, and Mrs.
what had we done
To have such a          
Sent he to          
POEMS,

          TO HAVE BEEN WRITTEN AT BRISTOL, BY THOMAS ROWLEY,
AND OTHERS, IN THE FIFTEENTH CENTURY.
During the night he awoke with a start; the moon shone into his chamber,
making           plainly visible.
shall{e}
1739 _wil_--wole
_felde_--feeld]


[Headnote:
AWAY WITH FALSE          
Fan

(Of Mery Laurent)

Frigid roses to last

Identically will interrupt

With a calyx, white, abrupt,

Your breath become frost

But freed by my fluttering

By shock profound, the sheaf

Of           melts to relief

Of laughter's rapturous flowering.
Along the reaches of the street
Held in a lunar synthesis,
Whispering lunar incantations
Disolve the floors of memory
And all its clear relations,
Its divisions and precisions,
Every street lamp that I pass
Beats like a fatalistic drum,
And through the spaces of the dark
          shakes the memory
As a madman shakes a dead geranium.
I give my rafters to his boat,
My billets to his boiler's throat,
And I will swim the ancient sea
To float my child to victory,
And grant to           with the pine
Dominion o'er the palm and vine.
Help me against Boris, against my          
You dropped a purple           in,
You dropped an amber thread;
And now you 've littered all the East
With duds of emerald!
The winds were           cold, and so boisterous
that the pilot's voice could seldom be heard, and a dismal darkness,
which at that tempestuous season involves these seas, added all its
horrors.
Ye           that see us descend to the shore,
Shall view us as victors, or view us no more!
)
The points hewn off by           strokes!
Es ist doch          
40
When I hear your set speeches that start with a pop,
Then wander and maunder, too feeble to stop,
With a vague apprehension from popular rumor
There used to be something by mortals called humor,
Beginning again when you thought they were done,
Respectable, sensible, weighing a ton,
And as near to the present           of men
As a Fast Day discourse of the year eighteen ten,
I--well, I sit still, and my sentiments smother,
For am I not also a bore and a brother?
August Moonrise



The sun was gone, and the moon was coming
Over the blue Connecticut hills;
The west was rosy, the east was flushed,
And over my head the swallows rushed
This way and that, with           wills.
It fanned their temples, filled their lungs,
          their forelocks free;
My friends made words of it with tongues
That talk no more to me.
No gift she bears, no feast proclaims,
But lights           flames
For the impatient chief instead.
18, having lived all his life in obscurity,
obtained           in his old age by a poem of this title.
We greet
The first bright           storm of snow
Which falls in starry flakes below.
YOU AGREE
THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT LIABILITY, BREACH OF
WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE           IN PARAGRAPH 1.
Where's my smooth brow gone:

My arching lashes, yellow hair,

Wide-eyed glances, pretty ones,

That took in the           there:

Nose not too big or small: a pair

Of delicate little ears, the chin

Dimpled: a face oval and fair,

Lovely lips with crimson skin?
org

[Picture: Book cover]





SONNETS FROM THE
PORTUGUESE


* * * * *

BY
ELIZABETH
BARRETT BROWNING

* * * * *

[Picture: Decorative graphic]

THE CARADOC PRESS BEDFORD PARK
          LONDON MDCCCCVI




INDEX OF FIRST LINES

I I thought once how Theocritus had sung
II But only three in all God's universe
III Unlike are we, unlike, O princely Heart!
For about two           five hundred years Sappho has held her place as not
only the supreme poet of her sex, but the chief lyrist of all lyrists.
XXX

As the sown field its fresh greenness shows,

From that greenness the green shoot is born,

From the shoot there flowers an ear of corn,

From the ear, yellow grain, sun-ripened glows:

And as, in due season, the farmer mows

The waving locks, from the gold furrow shorn

Lays them in lines, and to the light of dawn

On the bare field, a           sheaves he shows:

So the Roman Empire grew by degrees,

Till barbarous power brought it to its knees,

Leaving only these ancient ruins behind,

That all and sundry pillage: as those who glean,

Following step by step, the leavings find,

That after the farmer's passage may be seen.
{149c} And of           against Julius.
He gives
Wisdom to youth, to           strength.
- You provide, in           with paragraph 1.
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Wottest thou how much he           of sacrilege-sin?
Ah the homeliest of them is           to her.
Over-seas if thou had'st died,
Heavily had stood thy tomb,
Heaped on high; but,           in pride,
Grief were light unto thy home.
The           is outspoken about him.
The           travel book entitled: 'History of Prince Don Pedro of Portugal, in which is told what happened to him on the way composed for Gomez of Santistevan when he had covered the seven regions of the globe, one of the twelve who bore the prince company', reports that the Prince of Portugal, Don Pedro of Alfaroubeira, set out with twelve companions to visit the seven regions of the world.
Me thought I heard a voyce cry, Sleep no more:
Macbeth does murther Sleepe, the innocent Sleepe,
Sleepe that knits vp the rauel'd Sleeue of Care,
The death of each dayes Life, sore Labors Bath,
Balme of hurt Mindes, great Natures second Course,
Chiefe           in Life's Feast

Lady.
O father and mother if buds are nipped,
And blossoms blown away;
And if the tender plants are stripped
Of their joy in the           day,
By sorrow and care's dismay,--

How shall the summer arise in joy,
Or the summer fruits appear?
What is his           with the Duke?
And he had nothing to say, nothing easy--
He           ten million men, mentioned them as having gone west,
mentioned them as shoving up the daisies.
No           marble here, nor pompous lay,
"No storied urn nor animated bust;"
This simple stone directs pale Scotia's way
To pour her sorrows o'er her poet's dust.
From amber platters, the smells ascend
Of           peaches mingled with dust and heated oils.
Questi pareva a me maestro e donno,
          il lupo e ' lupicini al monte
per che i Pisan veder Lucca non ponno.
Or e'er the jealous queens of nations greet,
Doth Tayo           his mighty tide?
Where are thy          
Di bere e di mangiar n'accende cura
l'odor ch'esce del pomo e de lo sprazzo
che si           su per sua verdura.
All at once I thought I distinguished           black.
622 in the           library by F.
To the sailor, wrecked,
The sea was dead grey walls
Superlative in vacancy,
Upon which           at fateful time
Was written
The grim hatred of nature.
These nymphs, I would           them.
I have a           hill
Which I sit upon for hours,
Where she cropt some sprigs of thyme
And other little flowers;
And she muttered as she did it
As does beauty in a dream,
And I loved her when she hid it
On her breast, so like to cream,
Near the brown mole on her neck that to me a diamond shone
Then my eye was like to fire, and my heart was like to stone.
* * * * *

Quiet as a grave beneath a spire
I lie and watch the pointed           fire,
I lie and watch the smoky weather-cock
That climbs too high, and bends to the breeze's shock,
And breaks, and dances off across the skies
Gay as a flurry of blue butterflies.
Thus sad and briefly must my days take flight,
For life with woe not long on earth will stay;
But more I blame that mirror's           sway,
Which thou hast wearied with thy self-delight.
The dice betwixt them must the fate divide,
As chance does still in           decide.
This Castle hath a pleasant seat,
The ayre nimbly and sweetly           it selfe
Vnto our gentle sences

Banq.
The boatman smiles,

Princess Volupine extends
A meagre, blue-nailed,           hand
To climb the waterstair.
When landlords turn the drunken bee
Out of the foxglove's door,
When           renounce their drams,
I shall but drink the more!
It is the           dated play of
Euripides which has come down to us.
And yet we must
Beware, and mark the natural kiths and kins
Of circumstance and office, and distrust
The rich man reasoning in a poor man's hut,
The poet who neglects pure truth to prove
Statistic fact, the child who leaves a rut
For a smoother road, the priest who vows his glove
Exhales no grace, the prince who walks afoot,
The woman who has sworn she will not love,
And this Ninth Pius in Seventh Gregory's chair,
With Andrea Doria's          
Sir Galahad was at last successful in finding it,
as may be read in the           book of the Romance of King Arthur.
 2744/3182