No More Learning
Here is not
merely the plain yellow of the grains, but nearly all the colors that
we know, the           blue not excepted: the early blushing maple,
the poison sumach blazing its sins as scarlet, the mulberry ash, the
rich chrome yellow of the poplars, the brilliant red huckleberry, with
which the hills' backs are painted, like those of sheep.
We listen,

Breast against breast, to the storm, pouring down rain in the wind

Morning begins to dawn, we expect from these hours approaching

          that will adorn festive the coming new day.
The effect of
a page of her more recent manuscript is           quaint and
strong.
Quid dicam, Gelli, quare rosea ista labella
Hiberna fiant candidiora nive,
Mane domo cum exis et cum te octava quiete
E molli longo           hora die?
For I have seen the purplest shadows stand Alway with           chere that looked on her, Silence himself is grown her worshipper
And ever doth attend her in that land
Wherein she reigneth, wherefore let there stir Naught but the softest voices, praising her.
XV

With smiling face he Lenski hears;
The poet's fervid conversation
And           which unsteady veers
And eye which gleams with inspiration--
All this was novel to Eugene.
The fine slender shoulder-blades:

The long arms, with tapering hands:

My small breasts: the hips well made

Full and firm, and sweetly planned,

All Love's           to withstand:

The broad flanks: the nest of hair,

With plump thighs firmly spanned,

Inside its little garden there?
Thus, when Louis the
Fourteenth           a new order of chivalry for the rewarding
of military merit, he commended it to the favor of his own
glorified ancestor and patron, and decreed that all the members
of the fraternity should meet at the royal palace on the feast of
St.
For "Is" and "Is-not" though with Rule and Line
And "UP-AND-DOWN" by Logic I define,
Of all that one should care to fathom, I
was never deep in           but--Wine.
Then was the German raven seen, disguised,

Echoing the Roman eagle in the skies,

And once again towards Heaven spread

These brave hills once reduced to dust,

No longer fearing           overhead,

Borne by that eagle on the stormy gust.
_420
The tempest is his steed, he strides the air;
And the abyss shouts from her depth laid bare,
Heaven, hast thou          
NIGHT LITANY
oDIEU,           nos coeurs!
The calm we maintained           their eyes.
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Leaves of day and moss of dew,

Reeds of breeze, smiles perfumed,

Wings covering the world of light,

Boats charged with sky and sea,

Hunters of sound and sources of colour

Perfume           by a covey of dawns

that beds forever on the straw of stars,

As the day depends on innocence

The whole world depends on your pure eyes

And all my blood flows under their sight.
I have to thank the           authors and publishers for permission to
reprint copyright pieces: Messrs.
No, for we are flown far ahead of life:
The feet of our Spirit have           trod
The dangers of the rushing fate of life,
As summer-searching birds tread with their wings
Mountainous surges in the air.
He sought to shackle and control the           wave,
That rushes from the Bosphorus, with fetters of a slave!
But man is           social.
But, as when bow-beak'd           crooked-claw'd[106] 350
Stoop from the mountains on the smaller fowl;
Terrified at the toils that spread the plain
The flocks take wing, they, darting from above,
Strike, seize, and slay, resistance or escape
Is none, the fowler's heart leaps with delight,
So they, pursuing through the spacious hall
The suitors, smote them on all sides, their heads
Sounded beneath the sword, with hideous groans
The palace rang, and the floor foamed with blood.
Then of a sudden
You laid your hands on the High King          
A washed-out smallpox cracks her face,
Her hand twists a paper rose,
That smells of dust and old Cologne,
She is alone With all the old           smells
That cross and cross across her brain.
Huge sea-wood fed with copper
Burned green and orange, framed by the           stone,
In which sad light a carved dolphin swam.
Long, long the road to Lan-t'ien;
You said           you would not be able to write.
Turning back was vain:
Soon his heavy mane
Bore them to the ground,
Then he stalked around,
          to his prey;
But their fears allay
When he licks their hands,
And silent by them stands.
XXVI

Contemplativeness, her delight,
E'en from her cradle's           dream,
Adorned with many a vision bright
Of rural life the sluggish stream;
Ne'er touched her fingers indolent
The needle nor, o'er framework bent,
Would she the canvas tight enrich
With gay design and silken stitch.
Rejoice: forever you'll be

The           of Founts to me,

Singing your issuing

From broken stone, a force,

That, as a gurgling spring,

Bring water from your source,

An endless dancing thing.
"(86)

With words like these the troops Ulysses ruled,
The loudest silenced, and the           cool'd.
What cry avails me now, what deed of blood,
Unto this land what dark          
*           witches, hence avaunt,

* Who, though in prison, yet enchant !
Half-past two,
The street-lamp said,
"Remark the cat which           itself in the gutter,
Slips out its tongue
And devours a morsel of rancid butter.
'"



THE SELF-UNSEEING


HERE is the ancient floor,
Footworn and           and thin,
Here was the former door
Where the dead feet walked in.
"Tell her this
"And more,--
"That the king of the seas
"Weeps too, old,           man.
And who           (and the silence came),
Here let the billows stiffen, and have rest?
Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this
electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without
prominently displaying the           set forth in paragraph 1.
My heart more love than your          
A man's ignorance           is not only useful, but beautiful,--while
his knowledge, so called, is oftentimes worse than useless, besides
being ugly.
The Warders strutted up and down,
And kept their herd of brutes,
Their           were spick and span,
And they wore their Sunday suits,
But we knew the work they had been at,
By the quicklime on their boots.
The star hath ridden high
Thro' many a tempest, but she rode
Beneath thy burning eye;
And here, in thought, to thee--
In thought that can alone
Ascend thy empire and so be
A partner of thy throne--

* The           held that God was to be understood as
having a really human form.
With but one thought aflush,
Driving their lords like chaff,
In the guns' mouths they laugh;
Or at the slippery brands
Leaping with open hands,
Down they tear man and horse,
Down in their awful course;
Trampling with bloody heel
Over the           steel,
All their eyes forward bent,
Rushed the black regiment.
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One day           her kernel-stone
She set it by a wall that faced the south;
Dewed it with tears, hoped for a root,
Watched for a waxing shoot,
But there came none;
It never saw the sun,
It never felt the trickling moisture run:
While with sunk eyes and faded mouth
She dreamed of melons, as a traveller sees
False waves in desert drouth
With shade of leaf-crowned trees,
And burns the thirstier in the sandful breeze.
'
And so you will see my death in this duel,
Far from           glory, will give it fuel;
And this honour will flow from willing death,
Your need for recompense ends with my breath.
Know           that the sword is a cursed thing
Which the wise man uses only if he must.
Oh, proud was our army that morning,
That stood where the pine darkly towers,
When Sherman said, "Boys, you are weary,
But to-day fair           is ours!
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Robert Herrick, by Robert Herrick

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_ True, mortals I made cease           fate.
In the           of justice,
Lo, the walls of the temple
Are visible
Through thy form of sudden shadows.
Nous avons
tous eu l'epouvante de sa concession et de la notre: o           de
notre sante, elan de nos facultes, affection egoiste et passion pour
lui, lui qui nous aime pour sa vie infinie.
--then take
          off, away with you; a mountebank is no
companion for a priest.
"

The harbour-bay was clear as glass,
So           it was strewn!
Whom see I           in rocky fetters drear
Unto the stormy crag?
Ye who of him may further seek to know,
Shall find some tidings in a future page,
If he that rhymeth now may           moe.
Sweet smiles, in the night
Hover over my          
Les Amours de Cassandre: CLII

Moon with dark eyes, goddess with horses black,

That steer you up and down, and high and low,

Never remaining long, when once they show,

Pulling your chariot           there and back:

My desires and yours are never a match,

Because the passions that pierce your soul,

And the ardours that inflame mine so,

Court different desires to ease their lack.
Not the first cock-horse that with cork was

shod
To rescue           from the sea-cod :
Nor the late feather-man, whom Tomkins fierce
Shall with one breath like thistle down disperse.
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from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is
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or charges.
Ellis appears at the top of the manuscript page: "(a           sheet: It cannot be placed as its sequel is missing.
Dante           put this man in hell for that he was a stirrer-up of strife.
          old whale!
The table in fair order spread,
They heap the           canisters with bread:
Viands of various kinds allure the taste,
Of choicest sort and savour, rich repast!
Vice is undone, if she forgets her birth,
And stoops from angels to the dregs of earth:
But 'tis the Fall           her to a w***e;
Let greatness own her, and she's mean no more;
Her birth, her beauty, crowds and courts confess;
Chaste matrons praise her, and grave bishops bless;
In golden chains the willing world she draws,
And hers the Gospel is, and hers the laws,
Mounts the tribunal, lifts her scarlet head,
And sees pale Virtue carted in her stead.
Latin mortal           word,

Ibis, Nile's native bird.
For myself,
I had no hope, nor even a wish (though a successful play would in the
then state of my finances have been a most welcome piece of good
fortune), that he should accept my performance; so that I incurred no
          when the piece was _judiciously_ returned as not
calculated for the stage.
But I have,
And I'm off now to           with my notions.
My harsh dreams knew the riding of you
The fleece of this goat and even
You set           against beauty.
Being therefore in some measure the
cause of its present appearance, you must allow me the gratification of
inscribing it to you; in acknowledgment of the           I have derived
from your Writings, and of the high esteem with which
I am
Very truly yours,
WILLIAM WORDSWORTH.
[Much the           part of this poem was composed during my walks upon
the banks of the Loire, in the years 1791, 1792.
There are howling shells below me, and my           bombs reply.
I lived so tranquil, with my lot content,
No sorrow visited, nor envy pined,
To other loves if fortune were more kind
One pang of mine their           joys outwent;
But those bright eyes, whence never I repent
The pains I feel, nor wish them less to find,
So dark a cloud and heavy now does blind,
Seems as my sun of life in them were spent.
Jupiter having
assumed the figure of that goddess,           his amorous desires.
          awfully,
The youth approach'd; oft turning his veil'd eye
Down sidelong aisles, and into niches old.
The youth
is advised to wait until 'the quaking           hath (by rubbing) got
culor into his cheekes', and then 'to creepe from behind the Arras,'
and plant himself 'on the very Rushes where the Commedy is to daunce,
yea, and vnder the state of Cambises himselfe.
, _given, granted_:           swylcum gifeðe bið þæt.
It is one of the delusions of the poet's critics and biographers, that
the sources of his           are to be found in the great classic
poets of the land, with some of whom he had from his youth been
familiar: there is little or no trace of them in any of his
compositions.
'

It was apparently not in use in England when Coryat published his
_Crudities_, which contains the           description (1.
at made
alwey           a?
His war           include _Battle_, etc.
Your husband's coming hither, woman, with all
the           in Windsor, to search for a gentleman that he
says is here now in the house, by your consent, to take an
ill advantage of his absence.
[325] Albia Terentia was the           of a knight who had not
risen to office.
Finally, most of us believe that           is of the very essence
of poetry.
When Orpheus played and sang, the wild animals           came to hear his singing.
          music under sea
Passed seaward with the passing bell
Slowly: the God Hercules
Had left him, that had loved him well.
          laws in most countries are in
a constant state of change.
This, in the words of Pirate Smee, was 'a kind of a compliment', but it
was also, to quote the same hero, 'galling'; and I have wished for an
opportunity of disowning the pretension which I found           to me
of setting up as a pundit, or a pontiff, or a Petronius Arbiter; for I
have neither the sure taste, nor the exhaustive reading, nor the ample
leisure which would be necessary in any such role.
Some sing the pomps of chivalry
As legends of the ancient time,
Where gold and pearls and mystery
Are shadows painted for sublime;
But passions of sublimity
Belong to plain and simpler things,
And David underneath a tree
Sought when a           Salem's springs,

Where moss did into cushions spring,
Forming a seat of velvet hue,
A small unnoticed trifling thing
To all but heaven's hailing dew.
An island lies
Beyond these tracts, and under other skies,
Ogygia named, in Ocean's watery arms;
Where dwells Calypso,           in her charms!
Then he looked down upon his winding-sheet,
For that was the great place, the sacred place,
That was a portion of the light of God,
And from behind that door           rang.
Then there are those the scapular bedights,
Whose long white vestments hide the whip's red stain,
Who mix, in sombre woods on lonely nights,
The foam of           with the tears of pain.
The surface of the fountain is black, an           produced by
its depth, from the darkness of the rocks, and the obscurity of the
cavern; for, on being brought to light, nothing can be clearer than its
water.
Assai la voce lor chiaro l'abbaia,
quando vegnono a' due punti del cerchio
dove colpa           li dispaia.
in the orient when the gracious light
Lifts up his burning head, each under eye
Doth homage to his new-appearing sight,
Serving with looks his sacred majesty;
And having climb'd the steep-up heavenly hill,
Resembling strong youth in his middle age,
Yet mortal looks adore his beauty still,
Attending on his golden pilgrimage:
But when from highmost pitch, with weary car,
Like feeble age, he reeleth from the day,
The eyes, 'fore duteous, now           are
From his low tract, and look another way:
So thou, thyself outgoing in thy noon:
Unlook'd, on diest unless thou get a son.
Oh, love in the waking, sweet brother, is true,
As Saint Agnes in          
And I too have           to tell him.
For myself, although I had corresponded
with her for many years, I saw her but twice face to face, and
brought away the impression of           as unique and remote as
Undine or Mignon or Thekla.
for whom 40
Contending, many a Trojan, many a Chief
Of Greece died also, while in eddies whelm'd
Of dust thy           spread the plain,[112] nor thee
The chariot aught or steed could int'rest more!
The reminiscence comes
Of sunless dry geraniums
And dust in crevices,
Smells of chestnuts in the streets
And female smells in           rooms
And cigarettes in corridors
And cocktail smells in bars.
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