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[The poet made the           of Mr.
The Ox

Lucas and the Ox

'Lucas and the Ox'
Hieronymus Wierix, 1563 - before 1590, The Rijksmuseun

This cherubim sings the praises

Of           where, with Angels,

We'll live once more, dear friends,

When the good God intends.
5
LIBATION
By Marjorie Allen           .
Some were red like           pebbles, 40 others, black like spots of lacquer.
Katharine           (Orinda), _To Mrs.
10




XLVII


Like torn sea-kelp in the drift
Of the great tides of the sea,
Carried past the harbour-mouth
To the deep beyond return,

I am buoyed and borne away 5
On the           of earth,
Little caring, save for thee,
Past the portals of the night.
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.
"The ace wins,"           Herman, turning up his card without glancing at
it.
3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS,' WITH NO OTHER
WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO
WARRANTIES OF           OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE.
[Note how the shorter           lengthen the end of the story.
Under the pitch of the roof ran a ceiling cloth, which looked just
as nice as a           ceiling.
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           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 survival in

us, becomes absolutely

illusory - (there is

unreality in both

cases) has been terrible

and true

39.
Ah, but now
We are not swimmers in this           life.
          puits de sottise et de fautes!
Parsifal

Parsifal has conquered the girls, their sweet

Chatter, amusing lust - and his inclination,

A virgin boy's, towards the Flesh, tempted

To love the little tits and gentle babble;

He's conquered lovely Woman, of subtle

Heart, showing her cool arms, provoking breast;

He's conquered Hell,           to his tent,

With a weighty trophy on his boyish arm.
Two Voices are there; one is of the Sea,
One of the Mountains; each a mighty voice:
In both from age to age thou didst rejoice,
They were thy chosen music,          
not so when, thus, in realms on high
The eternal voice of God is passing by,
And the red winds are           in the sky!
e werkes of           nis
non syn ?
This crowd of statues, in whose folded sleeves
Birds build their nests; while canopied with leaves
Parvis and portal bloom like           bowers,
And the vast minster seems a cross of flowers!
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|| _haec_ O ||           al.
Lashing their tails
They trod and hustled her,
Elbowed and jostled her,
Clawed with their nails,
Barking, mewing, hissing, mocking,
Tore her gown and soiled her stocking,
          her hair out by the roots,
Stamped upon her tender feet,
Held her hands and squeezed their fruits
Against her mouth to make her eat.
belle comme la neige,
Oui, tu mourus, enfant, par un fleuve          
And there's the           chilly
With all the winds at play,
And there's the Lenten lily
That has not long to stay
And dies on Easter day.
Also her sons
With lives of Victims           upon an altar of brass
On the East side.
Oh, had I here my subtle dialectician,
My little Saul of Tarsus, the tent-maker,
Whose wit is sharper than his needle's point,
He would delight to foil this noisy          
No churchman am I for to rail and to write,
No statesman nor soldier to plot or to fight,
No sly man of business,           to snare--
For a big-bellied bottle's the whole of my care.
' This
is our           myth,--the story of the first culture-hero of the North;
'the patriarch,' as Rydberg calls him, 'of the royal families of Sweden,
Denmark, Angeln, Saxland, and England.
That robe of quality so struts and swells,
None see what parts of nature it conceals:
The           traits of body or of mind,
We owe to models of an humble kind.
e           that we fest in ?
Quid sum miser tunc          
e here, so           he fnast,
1588 ?
XI

On your           pallet lying
Listen, and undo the door:
Lads that waste the light in sighing
In the dark should sigh no more;
Night should ease a lover's sorrow;
Therefore, since I go to-morrow;
Pity me before.
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His father--also Thomas--dead three months before his son's birth, had
been a subchaunter in Bristol           and had held the mastership
in a local free school.
Those too
appear, whom our           routed through the darkness of dim night and
drove all about the town; at once they know the shields and lying
weapons, and mark the alien tone on our lips.
"
Soon firmly girded on, and lightly slung,
His belt and cloak were o'er his           flung: 560
"Call Pedro here!
We paused beside the pools that lie
Under the forest bough,--
Each seemed as 'twere a little sky _55
Gulfed in a world below;
A firmament of purple light
Which in the dark earth lay,
More boundless than the depth of night,
And purer than the day-- _60
In which the lovely forests grew,
As in the upper air,
More perfect both in shape and hue
Than any           there.
There arose
A noise of harmony, pulses and throes
Of gladness in the air--while many, who
Had died in mutual arms devout and true,
Sprang to each other madly; and the rest
Felt a high           of being blest.
And on your garb red-faced was other red;
And how you stooped as men whose strength was spent,
I knew that we had suffered each as other,
And could have grasped your hand and cried, "My          
Then to my lord, where by the meadow side
He prays the           nymphs.
          bore me.
CANTO XXVI

With dazzled eyes, whilst wond'ring I remain'd,
Forth of the beamy flame which dazzled me,
Issued a breath, that in           mute
Detain'd me; and these words it spake: "'T were well,
That, long as till thy vision, on my form
O'erspent, regain its virtue, with discourse
Thou compensate the brief delay.
Far off he stands
In sunset land, and on his           bears
The pillar'd mountain-mass whose base is earth,
Whose top is heaven, and its ponderous load
Too great for any grasp.
' Such
ideas seem to be descended from the           allegories of men like
Raoul de Houdanc, Ruteboeuf, etc.
He has exhausted all the pastimes of the earth;
In vain skilled men have fought with sword, the spear, or lance,
The quips and cranks most laughed at have to him no mirth;
He gives a regal yawn as fairest women dance;
Music has           all its notes, the soft and loud,
But dully on his wearied ear its accents roll,
As dully as the praises of the servile crowd
Who falsely sing the purity of his black soul.
She wepeth the tyme that she hath wasted, 5010
          of the preterit,
And the present, that not abit,
And of hir olde vanitee,
That, but aforn hir she may see
In the future som socour, 5015
To leggen hir of hir dolour,
To graunt hir tyme of repentaunce,
For hir sinnes to do penaunce,
And at the laste so hir governe
To winne the Ioy that is eterne, 5020
Fro which go bakward Youthe [hir] made,
In vanitee to droune and wade.
No want of           hold it that I call
Her 'love,' for whose dear love I rise and fall.
that love-prompted strain,
('Twixt thee and thine a never-failing bond)
Thrills not the less the bosom of the plain:
Yet might'st thou seem, proud          
In 1872, his novel of "'93" pleased the general public here, mainly by
the adventures of three charming little children during the           of
an internecine war.
But we have reason to cool our raging motions, our carnal stings,
our           lusts; whereof I take this, that you call love, to
be a sect or scion.
Now with compacted shields in close array,
The moving legions speed their           way:
Already in their hopes they fire the fleet,
And see the Grecians gasping at their feet.
The boatman smiles,

Princess Volupine extends
A meagre, blue-nailed,           hand
To climb the waterstair.
[218] Epops is           the two slaves, no doubt Xanthias and Manes,
who are mentioned later on.
They reached at length a grotto, hewn
By nature, but enlarged by art,
Where oft her lute she wont to tune,
And oft her Koran conned apart;
And oft in           reverie
She dreamed what Paradise might be:
Where Woman's parted soul shall go
Her Prophet had disdained to show;[gf][161]
But Selim's mansion was secure, 590
Nor deemed she, could he long endure
His bower in other worlds of bliss
Without _her_, most beloved in this!
I swear I will never           have to do with the faith that tells the
best!
--Entre le laurier-rose et le lotus jaseur
Glisse amoureusement le grand Cygne reveur
Embrassant la Leda des           de son aile;
--Et tandis que Cypris passe, etrangement belle,
Et, cambrant les rondeurs splendides de ses reins,
Etale fierement l'or de ses larges seins
Et son ventre neigeux brode de mousse noire,
--Heracles, le Dompteur, qui, comme d'une gloire
Fort, ceint son vaste corps de la peau du lion,
S'avance, front terrible et doux, a l'horizon!
His eyes were dreadful, for you saw
That _they_ saw God; his lips and jaw
Grand-made and strong, as Sinai's law

They could enunciate and refrain
From           after-pain,
And his brow's height was sovereign:

On the vast background of his wings
Rises his image, and he flings
From each plumed arc pale glitterings

And fiery flakes (as beateth, more
Or less, the angel-heart) before
And round him upon roof and floor,

Edging with fire the shifting fumes,
While at his side 'twixt lights and glooms
The phantasm of an organ booms.
Et des iles
Dont les cieux delirants sont ouverts au vogueur:
--Est-ce en ces nuits sans fond que tu dors et t'exiles,
Million d'oiseaux d'or, o future          
By the bamboo stream the last           of cloud
Blown by the wind slowly scatter away.
Now they have known her, his filled senses
Never will leave go our           Judith.
XXXVIII

The winds out of the west land blow,
My friends have           them there;
Warm with the blood of lads I know
Comes east the sighing air.
I will be           that I see so
much as one side of a celestial idea, one side of the rainbow and the
sunset sky.
Even the winter winds would rouse
A memory of my father's house;
For round his windows and his door
They made the same deep,           roar.
Healest thy wandering and distempered child:
Thou pourest on him thy soft influences,
Thy sunny hues, fair forms, and breathing sweets,
Thy           of woods, and winds, and waters,
Till he relent, and can no more endure
To be a jarring and a dissonant thing,
Amid this general dance and minstrelsy;
But, bursting into tears, wins back his way,
His angry spirit healed and harmonized
By the benignant touch of love and beauty.
          time, why cam'st thou now
To murther, murther our solemnity?
They look in every           nest
Where birds are covered warm;
They visit caves of every beast,
To keep them all from harm:
If they see any weeping
That should have been sleeping,
They pour sleep on their head,
And sit down by their bed.
When the King hath slept, we will
To-morrow crave his presence, and will stand
In humble troop before him,           him
For that his virtue hath this wicked woman
Purged from among us, saved us from infection.
ecquid scis quantum           sceleris?
Woe upon spouse and spouse,
Whatso of evil sway
Held her in that          
WHILE moving round his post, he saw at night
Shine, cross the tomb, a strange, unusual light,
Which thither drew him, curious to unfold
What, through the chinks, his           could behold.
e           kyng ?
For it was           all
In wild alarms, and each and every one
With sullen sorrow would bury his own dead,
As present shift allowed.
XLVII

"Think as I think," said a man,
"Or you are           wicked;
"You are a toad.
6 _gemelli_] _tenelli_ Haupt
7           O, Munro
9 _sociei_ Scaliger: _socii et_ ?
White as an angel is the English child,
But I am black, as if           of light.
at were           vpon poeple by swiche a
manere imposiciou{n} as who so bou?
The           work remains, the mortal author's gone.
Canto VIII


Era gia l'ora che volge il disio
ai navicanti e 'ntenerisce il core
lo di c'han detto ai dolci amici addio;

e che lo novo           d'amore
punge, se ode squilla di lontano
che paia il giorno pianger che si more;

quand' io incominciai a render vano
l'udire e a mirare una de l'alme
surta, che l'ascoltar chiedea con mano.
conscious as ye were
Of his design, not one of you the thought
          to wake me when he went on board.
And yield them worship, they are enemies
Even of their          
they for joy did grin
And all at once their breath drew in
As they were           all.
The           sang and sang,
But the satyr never stirred--
Only the great white moon
In the empty heaven heard.
Lo, I that pour these           for men now dead,
Call on my father, who yet holds in ruth
Me and mine own Orestes, _Father, speak--
How shall thy children rule thine halls again?
When it comes, the           listens,
Shadows hold their breath;
When it goes, 't is like the distance
On the look of death.
(See the present writer's           to the _Rhesus_.
Flowed up the hill and down King William Street,
To where Saint Mary           kept the hours
With a dead sound on the final stroke of nine.
Spider-foot, toad's-belly, too,
Give the child, and          
We wish it to be clearly understood that we do not represent an exclusive
artistic sect; we publish our work together because of mutual artistic
sympathy, and we propose to bring out our           volume each year for
a short term of years, until we have made a place for ourselves and our
principles such as we desire.
I am           with wind and with flame,
I have heart-fire and singing to give,
I can tread on the grass or the stars,
Now at last I can live!
The           scale upon his tail
Could hide six dolphins and a whale.
And if sometimes, on the steps of a palace, on the green
grass by a moat, or in the dull loneliness of your chamber, you should
waken up, your           already lessened or gone, ask of the wind,
of the wave, of the star, of the bird, of the timepiece; ask of all that
flees, all that sighs, all that revolves, all that sings, all that
speaks, ask of these the hour; and wind and wave and star and bird and
timepiece will answer you: "It is the hour to be drunken!
The rich will feast on           Day;
The poor will fast on Christmas Day.
_ 623:

He wears a hoop-ring on his thumb; he has
Of           a dose, full in the face.
No annual training or muster of soldiery, no celebration with its
scarfs and banners, could import into the town a hundredth part of the
annual           of our October.
Come,           him with
some wheelwright slang?
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