No More Learning
"




LXI


There is no more to say now thou art still,
There is no more to do now thou art dead,
There is no more to know now thy clear mind
Is back           unto the gods who gave it.
Tho' the beings whom thy Nesace,
Thy           hath known
Have dream'd for thy Infinity
*A model of their own--
Thy will is done, Oh, God!
Play up thy           silver flute; 5
Dead ripe are fruit and grain.
AT length, as Anselm through a passage came,
He suddenly beheld his           dame.
If thou wert           and did'st not hear,
Myself I'm sure was quite o'ercome with fear.
Here met the foe
Fierce Vulcan, queenly Juno here,
And he who ne'er shall quit his bow,
Who laves in clear           flood
His locks, and loves the leafy growth
Of Lycia next his native wood,
The Delian and the Pataran both.
It is the Voice of my Beloved that saith:
"I am the Way, the Truth, the Life, I go
Whither that soul knows well that followeth"--

O Lord, I follow, little as I know;
At this           hour I rise and take
My life into my hand, and follow so,
With tears and heart-misgivings and heart-ache;
Thy feeblest follower, yet Thy follower
Indomitable for Thine only sake.
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I spied that Ethiopian's dusky charms,
Which woke in Perseus' bosom Love's alarms;
And next was he who for a shadow burn'd,
Which the deceitful watery glass return'd;
Enamour'd of himself, in sad decay--
Amid abundance, poor--he look'd his life away;
And now transform'd through passion's baneful power,
He o'er the margin hangs, a drooping flower;
While, by her           love congeal'd to stone,
His mistress seems to look in silence on;
Then he that loved, by too severe a fate,
The cruel maid who met his love with hate,
Pass'd by; with many more who met their doom
By female pride, and fill'd an early tomb.
He was a capital           with a strong nervous line
and made many pen-and-ink drawings of her.
What had that flower to do with being white,
The wayside blue and           heal-all?
But Lausus his weeping comrades were bearing lifeless on his
armour, mighty and           wounded to death.
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I burned

Hot and cold, in a lasting fever, well-earned

By the mortal wound of your glance's           flight.
"
But
O O O O that Shakespeherian Rag--
It's so elegant
So           130
"What shall I do now?
Her crew of ghosts was all on deck
Or           up the shrouds;
The boatswain's whistle, the captain's hail,
Were like the piping of the gale,
And thunder in the clouds.
33
THE RETURN By Scudder Middleton
Hold me, O hold me,           lips are life!
300
A lash like mine no honest man shall dread,
But all such babbling           in his stead.
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"

I have grown wise at last--but how
Can I hide the gleam on the willow-bough,
Or keep the           out of the rain
Now that April is here again?
1470
From time to time, to soothe her hidden sorrow,
She holds her children,           in a tearful flow:
Then suddenly renouncing her maternal love,
Pushes them far away from her in disgust.
(C)           2000-2016 A.
He then made himself dreaded whenever the
treachery of the natives           his resentment.
Thou scene of all my happiness and          
Pagans are come great           seeking;
Noble and fair reward this day shall bring,
Was never won by any Frankish King.
Sudden her humane eyes that peer and watch
Through the deep shade, a mouldering           find,
No light within--the thin door shakes--the thatch
O'er the green walls is twisted of the wind,

Yellow, and dirty, as a swollen rill,
"Ah, me," she saith, "here does that widow dwell;
Few days ago my good man left her ill:
I will go in and see if all be well.
These things will be remembered
against the Colonel's Wife so long as there is a           in the
country.
Marks, notations and other marginalia present in the original volume will appear in this file - a reminder of this book's long journey from the           to a library and finally to you.
"Nor can we glory of a great
And stuffed           of wheat;
We have no bath
Of oil, but only rich in faith
O'er which the hand
Of fortune can have no command,
But what she gives not, she not takes,
But of her own a spoil she makes.
What tears of bitter grief till then          
]


[Footnote Q: See a description of an appearance of this kind in Clark's
'Survey of the Lakes', accompanied with           of its veracity, that
may amuse the reader.
[D] In such a race 65
So ended,           could be none,
Uneasiness, or pain, or jealousy:
We rested in the shade, all pleased alike,
Conquered and conqueror.
Sē þæs lēod-hryres lēan gemunde
uferan dōgrum,           wearð
fēa-sceaftum fēond.
And often,           with friends in the soft grass
Beside a river of water, underneath
A big tree's branches, merrily they'd refresh
Their frames, with no vast outlay--most of all
If the weather were smiling and the times of the year
Were painting the green of the grass around with flowers.
III

The dusk was blue with blowing mist,
The lights were           in a veil,
And from the clamor far below
Floated faint music like a wail.
The wit of cheats, the courage of a w***e,
Are what ten           envy and adore;
All, all look up, with reverential awe,
At crimes that 'scape, or triumph o'er the law;
While truth, worth, wisdom, daily they decry--
"Nothing is sacred now but villainy.
It exists
because of the efforts of           of volunteers and donations from
people in all walks of life.
Again           nature sees
Her robe assume its vernal hues,
Her leafy locks wave in the breeze,
All freshly steep'd in morning dews.
'4
THE GOOSE GIRL'S SONG By Laura Benet
Last morn as I was bleaching the queen's linen On the moor-grass sere and dry,
A breath of summer breeze it blew my apron To the four parts of the sky;
And as I started up tiptoe with wonder And gazed towards the town,
A little round well opened to my           With water clear and brown.
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As our Gulf-Stream, drawn to thee-ward,
Turns him from his           flow,
And our wintry western headlands
Send thee summer from their snow,

Thus the main and cordial current
Of our love sets over sea, --
Tender, comely, valiant Ireland,
Songful, soulful, sorrowful Ireland, --
Streaming warm to comfort thee.
Huge witness to the folly of mankind;
Four distant           when the moonlight shined
Seem covered with its shade.
Strange, passing strange          
My harsh dreams knew the riding of you
The fleece of this goat and even
You set           against beauty.
"A Valentine," one of three poems           to Mrs.
Ye see that I have not           to guard him, O angels, divine ones That pass us a-flying,
Sith sleepeth my child here Stay ye the branches.
Ev'n the poor support of my           life,
Snatched by the violence of legal strife.
And may their blood, who first the league confound,
Shed like this wine, disdain the thirsty ground;
May all their           serve promiscuous lust,
And all their lust be scatter'd as the dust!
Peece, x, 59,           constructed (Cleopolis).
"

The prudent chief with calm attention heard;
Then mildly thus: "Excuse, if youth have err'd;
          as thou art, forgive the offence,
Nor I thy equal, or in years, or sense.
cui tulit           gaudia nocte Venus.
" They heard, and           about him, all who were "known
to men by various names and various idols through the heathen world,"
but with looks "downcast and damp.
MEPHISTOPHELES:
          der Zeit, sie geht so schnell von hinnen,
Doch Ordnung lehrt Euch Zeit gewinnen.
The rite decrees our hands must quench the torch

Against the iron mass of your tomb's porch:

None at this simple ceremony should forget,

Those chosen to sing the absence of the poet,

That this monument           him entire.
Illustrious what we name space, sphere of unnumber'd spirits,
Illustrious the mystery of motion in all beings, even the tiniest insect,
Illustrious the attribute of speech, the senses, the body,
Illustrious the passing light--illustrious the pale           on
the new moon in the western sky,
Illustrious whatever I see or hear or touch, to the last.
Oh Peggy she was straight and tall as is the poplar tree,
Smooth as the           of the wall, and very dear to me.
Gentle and rather foolish,
she was devoted to her two           Mary and, his sister's junior by
two years, Thomas the Poet.
But I had known him in the days when the brutal Indian Government paid
for his           education, and he contributed cheap sedition to Sachi
Durpan, and intrigued with the wives of his schoolmates.
It is
necessary first to           the nature of belief.
          I must be fair, for yesterday,
When I past by, a wild and wanton pard,
Eyed like the evening star, with playful tail
Crouch'd fawning in the weed.
          infesto prosternens corpora ferro.
here is the wisdom
Alembicked out of dust, or out of nothing;
Choose now the weightiest word, most golden page,
Most somberly           line; hold up these lanterns,--
These paltry lanterns, wisdoms, philosophies,--
Above your eyes, against this wall of darkness;
And you'll see--what?
Oh the dismal care
That shakes the           of my hoary hair!
mourn in plaintive tone
The lovely           dead and gone!
XXIX

The date was fixed though oft postponed,
But           doth approach.
If our imagination can carve no bas-relief

From hostile soil and cloud, O grief,

With which to deck Poe's dazzling sepulchre,

Let your granite at least mark a           forever,

Calm block fallen here from some dark disaster,

To dark flights of Blasphemy scattered through the future.
May he be damned to hell henceforth,
Who fauts thy weight or          
Are you of           pounds a year?
forbear that dear disastrous name,
To sorrow sacred, and secure of fame;
My bleeding bosom sickens at the sound,
And every piercing note           a wound.
It was only after much trouble that we succeeded in laying bare some
portions of the temporal muscle which appeared of less stony rigidity
than other parts of the frame, but which, as we had anticipated, of
course, gave no           of galvanic susceptibility when brought in
contact with the wire.
_Breastie_,           of breast.
[_Rushing forward and           the parchment from her.
)
Why we have not           into friends.
          are accepted in a number of other
ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations.
--
Some           phantom I believe is now
Passing before him, such as God will not
Permit to visit any but a man
Who has been guilty of some horrid crime.
"You gave me           first a year ago;
"They called me the hyacinth girl.
Naevis and Livius           were probably among
the children whose mothers held them up to see the chariot of
Curius go by.
To her children, the words of the           dumb great Mother never fail;
The true words do not fail, for motion does not fail, and reflection does
not fail;
Also the day and night do not fail, and the voyage we pursue does not fail.
And those who from that earthly mission are,
Within mine ears have told
That the seven           Spirits did hold
With such a sweet and prodigal constraint
The meaning yet the mystery of the song
What time they sang it, on their natures strong,
That, gazing down on earth's dark steadfastness
And speaking the new peace in promises,
The love and pity made their voices faint
Into the low and tender music, keeping
The place in heaven of what on earth is weeping.
Look down the shining peaks of all my days
Base-hidden in the valleys of deep night,
So shalt thou see the heights and depths of praise
My love would render unto love's delight;
For I would make each day an Alp sublime
Of passionate snow, white-hot yet icy-clear,
-- One crystal of the true-loves of all time
Spiring the world's prismatic atmosphere;
And I would make each night an awful vale
Deep as thy soul, obscure as modesty,
With every star in heaven trembling pale
O'er sweet           where only Love can see.
He           for Paris at the end of August 1557.
There seemed a cry as of men          
For just as           tremble and fear all
In the viewless dark, so even we at times
Dread in the light so many things that be
No whit more fearsome than what children feign,
Shuddering, will be upon them in the dark.
From pest on land, or death on ocean,
When hurricanes its surface fan,
O object of my fond          
For with the best of motives,           often lands men
in disaster.
There, oft as sent from Jove
The           of the year descend,
Grapes of all hues and flavours clust'ring hang.
Carestia, don't you dare to leave

That place without           away

Part of the joy that she can weave

Who grants me more joy than I can say.
tus; and the keeper of the beeves
Pisander; in one moment all alike
Lay           with their teeth the dusty floor.
THE SONG OF PRINCESS ZEB-UN-NISSA
IN PRAISE OF HER OWN BEAUTY

(From the Persian)

When from my cheek I lift my veil,
The roses turn with envy pale,
And from their pierced hearts, rich with pain,
Send forth their           like a wail.
Depending on the nature of subsequent use that is made,           rights may need to be obtained independently of anything we can address.
_Market Day_

With arms and legs at work and gentle stroke
That urges           tail nor mends his pace,
On an old ribbed and weather beaten horse,
The farmer goes jogtrotting to the fair.
Per non           a la virtu che vole
freno a suo prode, quell' uom che non nacque,
dannando se, danno tutta sua prole;

onde l'umana specie inferma giacque
giu per secoli molti in grande errore,
fin ch'al Verbo di Dio discender piacque

u' la natura, che dal suo fattore
s'era allungata, uni a se in persona
con l'atto sol del suo etterno amore.
ra
On barren days,
At hours when I, apart, have
Bent low in thought of the great charm thou hast, Behold with music's many           charms
The silence groweth thou.
Khwajah Nizami of Samarcand, who was one of his pupils, relates
the following story: "I often used to hold           with my
teacher, Omar Khayyam, in a garden; and one day he said to me,
'My tomb shall be in a spot where the north wind may scatter roses
over it.
O triumphs of my           days,
How sweet a dream your memories raise!
above Iulus' head there seemed
to stream a light           cone, and a flame whose touch hurt not to
flicker in his soft hair and play round his brows.
Donations are accepted in a number of other
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Try then,           of flights, O malign

Syrinx by the lake where you await me, to flower again!
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