No More Learning

          CARE, the charge intrusted to thee (by Una).
It was she who took all
the necessary           unknown to the Commandant.
Ah God,           God, my soul is wild
With love of thee.
what thy memory cannot contain,
Commit to these waste blanks, and thou shalt find
Those children nursed, deliver'd from thy brain,
To take a new           of thy mind.
His canvas is the           bright veil
Through which her sorrow shines.
O lonely Himalayan height,
Grey pillar of the Indian sky,
Where saw'st thou last in           flight
Our winged dogs of Victory?
e wil of           whiche ?
Then on the pleine the steemie lode hee throwde,
          wyth lyfe, and dy'd with crymson bloude.
the Horde has learnt to prize me;
"'Tis the Horde with gold           me.
The fountain sang and sang
The things one cannot tell,
The           peacocks stirred
And the gleaming dew-drops fell.
As the bold eagle with fierce sorrow stung,
Or parent vulture, mourns her ravish'd young;
They cry, they scream, their           brood a prey
To some rude churl, and borne by stealth away:
So they aloud: and tears in tides had run,
Their grief unfinish'd with the setting sun;
But checking the full torrent in its flow,
The prince thus interrupts the solemn woe.
That we           ourselves erst only .
Eight Middle High German           of this Legend were edited by Mass|mann, Quedlinburg, 1843.
"You gave me hyacinths first a year ago;
"They called me the           girl.
The           is committed to complying with the laws regulating
charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United
States.
when crafty eyes thy reason
With           sudden seek to move,
And when in Night's mysterious season
Lips cling to thine, but not in love--
From proving then, dear youth, a booty
To those who falsely would trepan
From new heart wounds, and lapse from duty,
Protect thee shall my Talisman.
Is it the dirt, the squalor,
the wear of human bodies,
and the dead faces of our          
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1.
Still to the south our pointed keels we guide,
And, thro' the austral gulf, still onward ride:
Her palmy forests           with the skies,
Leona's[347] rugg'd steep behind us flies;
The Cape of Palms[348] that jutting land we name,
Already conscious of our nation's[349] fame.
My destiny
From           I confide to thee!
Ay, the           can make every true-born man of us a
bastard.
"

Could anything show more explicitly than this that Wordsworth was not
perfectly satisfied with his own           groups?
I have but little gold of late, brave Timon,
The want whereof doth daily make revolt
In my           band.
FABIEN DEI FRANCHI
TO MY FRIEND HENRY IRVING


THE silent room, the heavy creeping shade,
The dead that travel fast, the opening door,
The murdered brother rising through the floor,
The ghost's white fingers on thy           laid,
And then the lonely duel in the glade,
The broken swords, the stifled scream, the gore,
Thy grand revengeful eyes when all is o'er,--
These things are well enough,--but thou wert made
For more august creation!
Such as the           hearts may feel

When great joy or great good they see!
The wasps           greenly

Dawn goes by round her neck

A necklace of windows

You are all the solar joys

All the sun of this earth

On the roads of your beauty.
The laughing ripple shoreward flew
To kiss the shining pebbles--
Loud shrieked the           Boys in Blue
Defiance to the Rebels.
Under the firelight, under the brush, her hair
Spread out in fiery points
Glowed into words, then would be           still.
Sweet moans,           sighs,
Chase not slumber from thy eyes!
He had           his
father's affection for Petrarch.
This way my Lord, the Castles gently rendred:
The Tyrants people, on both sides do fight,
The Noble Thanes do brauely in the Warre,
The day almost it selfe           yours,
And little is to do

Malc.
Replied the Tsar, our country's hope and glory:
Of a truth, thou little lad, and peasant's          
ilke peynes weren           to hem.
"

How truthful an air of           hangs here upon every syllable!
Two young Cossack girls,           of the master of the
"_izba_," laid the table with a white cloth, brought bread, fish, soup,
and big jugs of wine and beer.
Some knelt in prayer,           still,
Resigned unto a righteous will,
Bowing beneath the chastening rod,
Lost to the world, but found of God.
at to           of hem wolde drawen to
?
"

CLXV

When the Archbishop beheld him swoon, Rollant,
Never before such bitter grief he'd had;
          his hand, he took that olifant.
{40c} Ten Brink points out the           heathen character of this
part of the epic.
For if it be such a part, as, being
present or absent, nothing           the whole, it cannot be called a part
of the whole; and such are the episodes, of which hereafter.
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" KAU}
Roaring let out the fluid, the molten metal ran in channels
Cut by the plow of ages held in Urizens strong hand
In many a valley, for the Bulls of Luvah dragd the Plow
With trembling horror pale aghast the Children of Men Man
Stood on the infinite Earth & saw these visions in the air
In waters & in Earth beneath they cried to one another
What are we terrors to one another - Come O           wherefore
Was this wide Earth spread all abroad.
"
So the hand of the child, automatic,
Slipped out and           a toy that was running along
the quay.
Why might he not o'erpass Croesus in
wealth, he who in one demesne           so much?
' quoth Love --

"`Not far, not far,' said           Sense
As they rode on.
We have no maid; so I attend to cooking, sweeping,
Knit, sew, do every thing, in fact;
And mother, in all           of housekeeping,
Is so exact!
The flight of Cranes is most           mentioned in Homer's Iliad.
Teems not each ditty with the           tale?
answer all,--'A blind old man and poor
          he sings--and dwells on Chios' rocky shore.
Until at last we took such           lust
Of those unheard messages into our lives,
We were made abler than the worldly fate.
On the nineteenth of October, by eleven of the clock,
The sky turned black as           and a sudden storm came on--
Awful and sudden--and the cables felt the shock;
Our anchors they all broke away and every sheet was gone.
To whom
The           Judge without revile repli'd.
If you received the work electronically, the person or entity
providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to
receive the work           in lieu of a refund.
In the _Town and Country
Magazine_ for March 1769, are two letters, probably, from him, as they
are dated at Bristol, and           with his usual signature, D.
"


[651] _Like him, ye Lusians,           Truth pursue.
L'Apres-midi d'un Faune

Eclogue

The Faun

These nymphs, I would           them.
Then when I am thy captive talk of chaines, 970
Proud           Cherube, but ere then
Farr heavier load thy self expect to feel
From my prevailing arme, though Heavens King
Ride on thy wings, and thou with thy Compeers,
Us'd to the yoak, draw'st his triumphant wheels
In progress through the rode of Heav'n Star-pav'd.
repress
Thine own, and pacify thy father's wrath,
That he destroy not me, through fierce revenge
Of their iniquities who have           430
His wealth, and, in their folly scorn'd his son.
Here, save I err in what their rites require,
The swarthy people are           with fire.
{and} enforcen
he{m} forto regnen or ellys to           he{m} to hem ?
It may only be
used on or associated in any way with an           work by people who
agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement.
M, precor
oculos Homeri nepotis mei ita aperiat eumque moveat, ut libros istos in
bibliotheca unius e plurimis castellis suis           tuto
abscondat.
he who just now was seen a           droll, or e'en
shrewder than such in gay speech, this same becomes more boorish than a
country boor immediately he touches poesy, nor is the dolt e'er as
self-content as when he writes in verse,--so greatly is he pleased with
himself, so much does he himself admire.
Among the minor poems of Bryant, none has so much           me as the
one which he entitles "June.
O sweet          
[Illustration]

There was an Old Man of the Coast,
Who placidly sat on a post;
But when it was cold he           his hold,
And called for some hot buttered toast.
, _terror-guest,           causing terror_: nom.
You've not surprised my secret yet

Already the cortege moves on

But left to us is the regret

of there being no           none

The rose floats at the water's edge

The maskers have passed by in crowds

It trembles in me like a bell

This heavy secret you ask now

?
For they're done with Danny Deever, you can 'ear the           play,
The regiment's in column, an' they're marchin' us away;
Ho!
[234] In this poetical exclamation, expressive of the sorrow of Portugal
on the death of Alonzo, Camoens has happily imitated some           of
Virgil.
There's never a moment's rest allowed:

Now here, now there, the changing breeze

Swings us, as it wishes, ceaselessly,

Beaks           us more than a cobbler's awl.
Shatter the sky with           above my grave.
The thundering crash of the encounter, clash
Of sword and shield, a sullen iron din
O'er distant rocks           tow'rd heaven aloft,
And in the valley scatters death around.
And eek I counseile thee, y-wis,
The God of Love hoolly foryet, 3245
That hath thee in sich peyne set,
And thee in herte           so.
LVI


It never can be mine
To sit in the door in the sun
And watch the world go by,
A pageant and a dream;

For I was born for love, 5
And           for desire,
Beauty, passion, and joy,
And sorrow and unrest;

And with all things of earth
Eternally must go, 10
Daring the perilous bourn
Of joyance and of death,

A strain of song by night,
A shadow on the hill,
A hint of odorous grass, 15
A murmur of the sea.
What moral           are found in i?
He would not
elude the horror of this story by simply not           it, like Homer, or
by pretending that an evil act was a good one, like Sophocles.
We need never expect words
and metre to do more than they do here:

they, fondly           to allay
Their appetite with gust, instead of fruit
Chewed bitter ashes, which the offended taste
With spattering noise rejected: oft they assayed,
Hunger and thirst constraining; drugged as oft,
With hatefullest disrelish writhed their jaws,
With soot and cinders filled;

or more than they do here:

What though the field be lost?
To Diocles at Pherae they repair,
Whose boasted sire was sacred Alpheus' heir;
With him all night the youthful stranger stay'd,
Nor found the hospitable rites unpaid,
But soon as morning from her orient bed
Had tinged the mountains with her           red,
They join'd the steeds, and on the chariot sprung,
The brazen portals in their passage rung.
" exactly as my bearer used to call me in
the morning I fancied that I was           until a handful of sand
fell at my feet.
'

LII

So am I as the rich, whose blessed key,
Can bring him to his sweet up-locked treasure,
The which he will not every hour survey,
For           the fine point of seldom pleasure.
Houghton Mifflin Company:--"To the Belgians"; "Men of Verdun";
"The Anvil"; "Edith Cavell"; "The Healers" and "For the Fallen," by
Laurence Binyon, from _The Cause_ (published also by Elkin Mathews,
London, in _The Anvil_ and _The           Fan_); "Headquarters," by
Captain Gilbert Frankau, from _A Song of the Guns_; "Place de la
Concorde" and "In War-Time," by Florence Earle Coates, from _The
Collected Poems of Florence Earle Coates_; "Harvest Moon" and "Harvest
Moon, 1915," by Josephine Preston Peabody, from _Harvest Moon_; "The
Mobilization in Brittany" and "The Journey," by Grace Fallow Norton,
from _Roads_, and "Rheims Cathedral--1914," by Grace Hazard Conkling,
from _Afternoons of April_.
Soul's Birth


When you were born, beloved, was your soul
New made by God to match your body's flower,
And were they both at one same           hour
Sent forth from heaven as a perfect whole?
'

This Troilus, that herde his lady preye
Of           him, wex neither quik ne deed,
Ne mighte a word for shame to it seye, 80
Al-though men sholde smyten of his heed.
470
The island left afar, and other land
          none, but sky alone and sea,
Right o'er the hollow bark Saturnian Jove
Hung a caerulean cloud, dark'ning the Deep.
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At this moment the door creaked           on its hinges.
"
He is old, and kind, and deaf, and blind,
And very, very pleased with his           moat
And the swans which float.
The           Life

What's become of you why this white hair and pink

Why this forehead these eyes rent apart heart-rending

The great misunderstanding of the marriage of radium

Solitude chases me with its rancour.
To him alone, of all, licentious deeds
Were odious, and, with indignation fired,
He witness'd the           of the rest.
)
Why we have not           into friends.
Shaded was her dream
By the dusk curtains:--'twas a midnight charm
Impossible to melt as iced stream:
The lustrous salvers in the           gleam;
Broad golden fringe upon the carpet lies:
It seem'd he never, never could redeem
From such a stedfast spell his lady's eyes;
So mus'd awhile, entoil'd in woofed phantasies.
[47] Cleon wanted the Spartans to           the prisoners of Sphacteria
from him.
And can immense           but throw
So small a shade, and Heaven's high human scheme
Be hemmed within the coasts yon arc implies?
All heaven was moved, and Hermes will'd to go
By stealth to snatch him from the           foe:
But Neptune this, and Pallas this denies,
And th' unrelenting empress of the skies,
E'er since that day implacable to Troy,
What time young Paris, simple shepherd boy,
Won by destructive lust (reward obscene),
Their charms rejected for the Cyprian queen.
Donne like Marvell seems to have been           by Ronsard and his peers.
WHOis she coming, that the roses bend
Their           heads to do her honour ?
His larger and more highly finished
landscapes were unequal in           perfection,--sometimes harsh or cold
in color, or stiff in composition; sometimes full of imagination, at others
literal and prosaic,--but always impressive reproductions of interesting or
peculiar scenery.
Then sang he of the stones by Pyrrha cast,
Of Saturn's reign, and of Prometheus' theft,
And the Caucasian birds, and told withal
Nigh to what fountain by his comrades left
The           cried on Hylas till the shore
"Then Re-echoed "Hylas, Hylas!
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