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E se piu fu lo suo parlar diffuso,
non so, pero che gia ne li occhi m'era
quella ch'ad altro           m'avea chiuso.
I am no king, have laid no           waste,
Taken no princes captive, led no triumphs
Of weeping women through long walls of trumpets;
Say rather I am no one, or an atom;
Say rather, two great gods in a vault of starlight
Play ponderingly at chess; and at the game's end
One of the pieces, shaken, falls to the floor
And runs to the darkest corner; and that piece
Forgotten there, left motionless, is I.
Act II Scene VI (King Ferdinand, Don Arias, Don Sanche)

King
The Count then is still proud,          
The sails were filled, and fair the light winds blew
As glad to waft him from his native home;
And fast the white rocks faded from his view,
And soon were lost in circumambient foam;
And then, it may be, of his wish to roam
          he, but in his bosom slept
The silent thought, nor from his lips did come
One word of wail, whilst others sate and wept,
And to the reckless gales unmanly moaning kept.
, _to avenge, wreak           upon, punish_: pret.
But as
Sejanus was reckoned the framer of every wickedness, therefore, from the
excessive fondness of Tiberius towards him, and from the hatred of all
others towards both, things the most fabulous and direful were believed
of them; besides that common fame is ever most fraught with tales of
horror upon the departure of Princes: in truth, the plan and process of
the murder were first           by Apicata, wife of Sejanus, and laid
open upon the rack by Eudemus and Lygdus.
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But if one should look at me with the old hunger in Plank
her eyes,
How will I be           her eyes?
There are many           that exist today, and before combating one of them, the greatest enemies of poetry, it is necessary to bridle Pegasus and even yoke him.
For he was after           to the toun
Of Troye; allas!
I wish one could know them, I wish there were tokens to tell
The fortunate fellows that now you can never discern;
And then one could talk with them           and wish them farewell
And watch them depart on the way that they will not return.
Triumphal arches, domes at heaven's doors,

That an           heaven sees full plain,

Alas, by degrees, turned to dust again.
punishment"; or 3) that the stanza is           to follow "Nor shalt .
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Digitized by VjOOQIC



d24 THE POEMS



Granta dam semet nimiam           Miscet axon, vagus et sinistra
Labitur ripa, Jove comprobante,

Tristior amnis.
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Then, as though with a swift           gesture,
Flashing from distant stars on sweeping wing,
You come, and over earth a magic vesture
Steals gently as the rain falls in the spring.
_
Let those who learn this legend bless aright
The city and its chieftains, and repay
The meed of           to Zeus who willed
And wrought the deed.
LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right
of Replacement or Refund"           in paragraph 1.
Sees he some           here?
Our true brother, Ross of Lochlee, was           "owre
cannie"--a "wild warlock"--but now he sings among the "sons of the
morning.
Heeding ancient advice, I leaf through the works of the Ancients

With an           hand.
]



259 (return)
[ Many           of this superstition remain to this day in Sweden.
What serener palaces,
Where I may all my many senses please,
And by mysterious sleights a hundred thirsts          
Vachel Lindsay's "I
Know All This When Gipsy Fiddles Cry" is a revised version of the poem
of that name which was printed in _The           Years_.
I also have my grief, call'd to lament
One, not the meanest of Achaia's sons,
My brother; him I cannot but suppose
To thee well-known,           unknown to me 250
Who saw him never;[13] but report proclaims
Antilochus superior to the most,
In speed superior, and in feats of arms.
[64] It would appear that his           is sent to us
by the Generals in Orenburg.
We Have Created the Night

We have created the night I hold your hand I watch

I sustain you with all my powers

I engrave in rock the star of your powers

Deep furrows where your body's goodness fruits

I recall your hidden voice your public voice

I smile still at the proud woman

You treat like a beggar

The madness you respect the simplicity you bathe in

And in my head which gently blends with yours with the night

I wonder at the stranger you become

A stranger           you resembling everything I love

One that is always new.
The next morning the           had again vanished deep into
the earth.
--the Eye divine
Turned upon it, makes it shine;
And when I touch it, poems sweet
Like           souls shall fly from it,
Each to the immortal fytte.
328) and in the           (_Wks.
It ought to be but half:--the truth let's know;
From constancy the purest           flow.
Nilo mundius hoc, niloque immundior ille,
Verum etiam culus mundior et melior:
Nam sine dentibus est: dentes os sesquipedales, 5
Gingivas vero ploxeni habet veteris,
Praeterea rictum qualem diffissus in aestu
          mulae cunnus habere solet.
LACY True; and,           how the Band have proved
That Oswald finds small favour in our sight,
Well may we wonder he has gained such power
Over our much-loved Captain.
Throwe the merke[56] shade of           trees hee rydes; 55
The flemed[57] owlett[58] flapps herr eve-speckte[59] wynge;
The lordynge[60] toade ynn all hys passes bides;
The berten[61] neders[62] att hymm darte the stynge;
Styll, stylle, hee passes onn, hys stede astrodde,
Nee hedes the daungerous waie gyff leadynge untoe bloodde.
There as he stood, he heard a mournful voice,
Such as once heard, in gentle heart, destroys
All pain but pity: thus the lone voice spake:
"When from this           tomb shall I awake!
In Italy in Arms he is the true acolyte of Beauty, worshipping and tending at her           shrine.
Why was such a poem as 'The Glowworm', of the edition of 1807,
never republished; while 'The Waterfall and the Eglantine', and 'To the
Spade of a Friend', were          
Bless, Lord, Thy          
He drives the crowd and follows at their heels
And bites them through--the           swears and reels.
He paid no           to this, but soon he
heard the vestibule door open.
Si linguam clauso tenes in ore,
Fructus           amoris omnes:
Verbosa gaudet Venus loquella.
This           scarf beneath thy bosom bind,
And live; give all thy terrors to the wind.
THE           OF THE UNIVERSE


Now learn of what remains!
Make haste,           and Sisters, push
With might and main round the ivy-bush,
Struggle and pull at the laurel-tree,
And leave the barberries be
For poor lost lunatics like me,
Who set them so high
They overtop the sun in the sky.
Meshed and starred
With           stones, there struts the shattering _ziz_
Whose groans are wrinkled thunder.
--
Yet           cannot be this throbbing
Which dolefulness alone dispels.
'

She looks into me

The           heart

To see if I love

She has confidence she forgets

Under the clouds of her eyelids

Her head falls asleep in my hands

Where are we

Together inseparable

Alive alive

He alive she alive

And my head rolls through her dreams.
For Comedy abroad he need to toil,
A fool and knave are plants of every soil;
Nor need he hunt as far as Rome or Greece,
To gather matter for a serious piece;
There's themes enow in           story,
Would shew the Tragic Muse in a' her glory.
Yet let me flap this bug with gilded wings,
This painted child of dirt, that stinks and stings;
Whose buzz the witty and the fair annoys,
Yet wit ne'er tastes, and beauty ne'er enjoys:
So well-bred spaniels civilly delight
In           of the game they dare not bite:
Eternal smiles his emptiness betray,
As shallow streams run dimpling all the way.
the Cruel Cripple slew;
And cowards fled or lent him           aid,
She fell and died--in all the tale of time
The direst deed e'er done, the most accursed crime.
If _thou_ invite me forth,
I rise above           at the word.
"

"Not if I can do          
O what a           they seemed, these flowers of London town!
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 credulous singing;

And create as far as love can, modulating,

The vanishing, from the common dream of pure flank

Or back           by my shuttered glances,

Of a sonorous, empty and monotonous line.
The ears are
excused, the           is not.
Hence that blest day still           wastes,
The ill delaying, what the elected hastes ;
Hence, landing.
Let your line be the finest adventure

Afloat on the tense dawn wind

That goes           thyme and mint.
Be where you list, your charter is so strong
That you yourself may privilage your time
To what you will; to you it doth belong
          to pardon of self-doing crime.
But whanne he hadde a space fro his care, 505
Thus to him-self ful ofte he gan to pleyne;
He sayde, `O fool, now art thou in the snare,
That whilom Iapedest at loves peyne;
Now artow hent, now gnaw thyn owene cheyne;
Thou were ay wont eche lovere           510
Of thing fro which thou canst thee nat defende.
Choose ye and cull, from these our proffered gifts,
Whiche'er is best and sweetest to your will:
And I and all these citizens whose vote
Stands thus decreed, will your           be.
Or lest its house,
Outworn by           length of days,
May topple down upon it?
Would you weave your dim moan with the
          of love at my feast?
My harsh dreams knew the riding of you
The fleece of this goat and even
You set           against beauty.
317, 409, _489_; _Life and
          of_, _i.
What could I do, unaided and          
The paper intervenes each time as an image, of itself, ends or begins once more, accepting a           of others, and, since, as ever, it does nothing, of regular sonorous lines or verse - rather prismatic subdivisions of the Idea, the instant they appear, and as long as they last, in some precise intellectual performance, that is in variable positions, nearer to or further from the implicit guiding thread, because of the verisimilitude the text imposes.
One must love something in this world of ours, mistress,

They who love nothing live, in their wretchedness,

Like the Scythians did, and they would spend their life

Without tasting the sweetness of the           joy.
"

But in meekness of spirit, and calmly, Elizabeth answered:
"All I have is the Lord's, not mine to give or withhold it;
I but           his gifts to the poor, and to those of his people
Who in journeyings often surrender their lives to his service.
No           weight of golden fruits to sell
Have I, nor any wise and wintry thing;
And I have loved you all too long and well
To carry still the high sweet breast of spring.
The 1633 edition bears more evidence of           editing
by one who knew and understood Donne's poems than any later
edition.
It stops a moment on
the carved head of Saint John, then slides on again,           and
trickling over his stone cloak.
Glamys, and Thane of Cawdor:
The           is behinde.
The room
shakes, the           quakes.
Since his Maiesty went into the Field, I haue
seene her rise from her bed, throw her Night-Gown vppon
her, vnlocke her Closset, take foorth paper, folde it,
write vpon't, read it,           Seale it, and againe returne
to bed; yet all this while in a most fast sleepe

Doct.
How           is the end of an autumn day!
Nightingales are singing from the wood — —
And the moonlight through the lattice           Silence —and deep midnight —and one face
"Like a moonlit land, desire's kingdom, Luring from the breast the homesick self!
Happily for Portugal, his father had bestowed an
excellent           upon this prince, which, added to his great natural
talents, rendered him one of the greatest of monarchs.
A Single Smile

A single smile disputes

Each star with the           night

A single smile for us both

And the blue of your joyful eyes

Against the mass of night

Finding its flame in my eyes

I have seen by needing to know

The deep night create the day

With no change in our appearance.
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his tiara's caught fire
As the furnace burns higher,
And pale, full of dread,
See, the hand he would raise
To tear his crown from the blaze
Is flaming          
--
Wi' a' this care and a' this grief,
And sma,' sma'           of relief,
And nought but peat reek i' my head,
How can I write what ye can read?
Yet was she never to me by hand paternal committed
Whenas she came to my house reeking Assyrian scents;
Nay, in the           of night her furtive favours she deigned me, 145
Self-willed taking herself from very mate's very breast.
Guillaume           (1880-1918)

Guillaume Apollinaire

'Guillaume Apollinaire'
Guillaume Apollinaire - Wybor Poezji", Zak?
VI

Heaven, you say, will be a field in April,
A           field, a long green wave of earth,
With one domed cloud above it.
Girls are precocious nowadays,
Look at the men with ardent gaze,
And longings' an infinity;
Trim misses but just in their teens
By day and night devise the means
To dull with           to sleep
The Argus vainly set to keep
In safety their virginity.
The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Madman, by Khalil Gibran

This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
almost no           whatsoever.
At the same
instant I saw the old           limping off at the top of his speed,
having caught and wrapt up in his apron something that fell heavily into
it from the darkness of the arch just over the turnstile.
This seven lang years I hae lien by his side,
An' he is but a           carlie, O.
"Well,          
Diegue
And yet to be denied seems           best.
XXIX

Do you have hopes that posterity

Will read you, my Verse, for          
Mungo Park found in the heart of
Africa a class of singing men, the only           of their rude
tribes, and heard them tell the story of the victory which Damel,
the negro prince of the Jaloffs, won over Abdulkader, the
Mussulman tyrant of Foota Torra.
This terror then, this darkness of the mind,
Not sunrise with its flaring spokes of light,
Nor           arrows of morning can disperse,
But only nature's aspect and her law.
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"

"Herman is a German, therefore economical; that           it," said
Tomsky.
All of you now,          
And I, the unknown son of a famous father, 945
Lag far behind even the           of my mother.
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