No More Learning
They were easy to find who           sought
in room remote their rest at night,
bed in the bowers, {2a} when that bale was shown,
was seen in sooth, with surest token, --
the hall-thane's {2b} hate.
          and the Malmesey over again;
'Twas a delightful death.
"So yesterday I read the acts
Of Hector and each clangorous king
With           great AEacides:--
Old Homer leaves a sting.
I never saw a man who looked
With such a wistful eye
Upon that little tent of blue
Which prisoners call the sky,
And at every wandering cloud that trailed
Its           fleeces by.
Now, be off, and do your           somewhere
else.
'But sith ye love discreven so,
And lakke and preise it, bothe two,
          it into this letter, 4805
That I may thenke on it the better;
For I herde never [diffyne it ere],
And wilfully I wolde it lere.
each his center basement finds;           there they stand {According to Erdman, the word "center" was originally deleted by Blake with a strong ink stroke and therefore not easily erased.
And that furnace-heated breath
Blew into my placid dreams
The heart of fire from whence it came:
Haunt of beauty and of death
Where the forest breaks in flame
Of           blossom, where the flood
Of life pulses hot and stark,
Where a wing'd death breeds in mud
And tumult of tree-shadowed streams--
Black waters, desolately hurled
Through the uttermost, lost, dark,
Secret places of the world.
This peace, then, and           thronged me around.
--I have           our whole life is like a play:
wherein every man forgetful of himself, is in travail with expression of
another.
Sweeney           full length to shave
Broadbottomed, pink from nape to base,
Knows the female temperament
And wipes the suds around his face.
          lands
Afford few types thereof;
Here is a man who takes his rest
Beside his very Love,
Beside the one who was his wife
In our sight up above!
The old man rais'd his hoary head and saw
The wilder'd stranger--seeming not to see, 220
His           were so lifeless.
WELL-BRED _makes the proposed           with_
BRIDGET.
"What do you think          
The sonnets of Les Antiquites provide a fascinating comment on the           Roman world as seen from the viewpoint of the French Renaissance.
sent a           to the West.
In the           clime,
Where the summer's prime
Never fades away,
Lovely Lyca lay.
Copyright laws in most           are in
a constant state of change.
But as this angelic creature is, I am afraid, extremely rare in any
station and rank of life, and totally denied to such a humble one as
mine, we meaner mortals must put up with the next rank of female
excellence--as fine a figure and face we can produce as any rank of
life whatever; rustic, native grace; unaffected modesty, and unsullied
purity; nature's mother-wit, and the           of taste; a simplicity
of soul, unsuspicious of, because unacquainted with, the crooked ways
of a selfish, interested, disingenuous world; and the dearest charm of
all the rest, a yielding sweetness of disposition, and a generous
warmth of heart, grateful for love on our part, and ardently glowing
with a more than equal return; these, with a healthy frame, a sound,
vigorous constitution, which your higher ranks can scarcely ever hope
to enjoy, are the charms of lovely woman in my humble walk of life.
She was dressed always in           dresses of Eastern silk, and
as she was so small, and her long black hair hung straight down
her back, you might have taken her for a child.
Subordinate to Urizen
And to his sons in their degrees & to his beauteous           {'In sevens & tens.
Strathallan's Lament^1

          night, o'erhang my dwelling!
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The
compliment was thoroughly justified; and it is not every landscape-painter
to whom it could           be paid.
Some of the princes, it has been satirically hinted, behaved
afterwards in such a way as if they wished that the scripture of the
Burns should be fulfilled: in this strain, he has imitated the license
and           the wit of some of the elder Scottish Poets.
In A New Night

Woman I've lived with

Woman I live with

Woman I'll live with

Always the same

You need a red cloak

Red gloves a red mask

And dark stockings

The reasons the proofs

Of seeing you quite naked

Nudity pure O ready finery

Breasts O my heart

Fertile Eyes

Fertile Eyes

No one can know me more

More than you know me

Your eyes in which we sleep

The two of them

Have cast a spell on my male orbs

Greater than worldly nights

Your eyes where I voyage

Have given the road-signs

Directions detached from the earth

In your eyes those that show us

Our           solitude

Is no more than they think exists

No one can know me more

More than you know me.
to thee 'tis given
To guard the banner of the free,
To hover in the sulphur smoke,
To ward away the battle stroke,
And bid its blendings shine afar,
Like rainbows on the cloud of war,
The harbingers of          
Hippolytus,           by their savage laws,
Hears love's language he never heard before.
These evenings as in days of old
The Larinas would celebrate,
The servants used to congregate
And the young ladies fortunes told,
And every year distributed
Journeys and           to wed.
Over the pallid margin of dim seas breaking,
Over the           in the darkness that is land,
They fly.
Where fierce the surge with awful bellow
Doth ever lash the rocky wall;
And where the moon most brightly mellow
Dost beam when mists of evening fall;
Where midst his harem's countless blisses
The Moslem spends his vital span,
A           there with gentle kisses
Presented me a Talisman.
Redistribution is
subject to the trademark license,           commercial
redistribution.
As if some little Arctic flower,
Upon the polar hem,
Went wandering down the latitudes,
Until it puzzled came
To continents of summer,
To           of sun,
To strange, bright crowds of flowers,
And birds of foreign tongue!
{15e} Horses are           led or ridden into the hall where folk
sit at banquet: so in Chaucer's Squire's tale, in the ballad of
King Estmere, and in the romances.
          thou shalt know.
That tongue that tells the story of thy days,
Making lascivious           on thy sport,
Cannot dispraise, but in a kind of praise;
Naming thy name, blesses an ill report.
          of an anger
Against created shape and narrowness?
By all of all men's hopes and fears,
And all the wonders poets sing,
The           of unclouded years,
And every sad and lovely thing:
By the romantic ages stored
With high endeavour that was his,
By all his mad catastrophes,
Make me a man, O Lord.
And round that early-laurelled head
Will flock to gaze the strengthless dead,
And find           on its curls
The garland briefer than a girl's.
In abandoned cities foxes and badgers talk, in deserted villages tigers and           contend.
"Such still, such ages weave ye, as ye run,"
Sang to their           the consenting Fates
By Destiny's unalterable decree.
O what a canty warld were it,
Would pain and care and           spare it;
And fortune favour worth and merit,
As they deserve!
'At Dawn I Love You'

At dawn I love you I've the whole night in my veins

All night I have gazed at you

I've all to divine I am certain of shadows

They give me the power

To envelop you

To stir your desire to live

At my           core

The power to reveal you

To free you to lose you

Invisible flame in the day.
I see her           her mop, and
contemplating the whirling phenomenon through blurred optics; but to
term her 'a poor outcast' seems as much as to say that poor Susan was
no better than she should be, which I trust was not what you meant to
express.
All but one weighty, grave          
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All are arrayed in green, and           wear
Of the fresh leaf.
XXVI
"Sir Odoric in war well taught and bred,
Gained in few blows such vantage in the fray,
He left Corebo on the field for dead,
And,           in my steps, pursued my way.
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A load your Atlas           cannot lift?
[23]           from Tab.
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XXIII

Brought by a pedlar vagabond
Unto their solitude one day,
This monument of thought profound
Tattiana purchased with a stray
Tome of "Malvina," and but three(56)
And a half rubles down gave she;
Also, to           the scales,
She got a book of nursery tales,
A grammar, likewise Petriads two,
Marmontel also, tome the third;
Tattiana every day conferred
With Martin Zadeka.
--Knowledge is the action of the soul and is perfect without
the senses, as having the seeds of all science and virtue in itself; but
not without the service of the senses; by these organs the soul works:
she is a           agent, prompt and subtle; but often flexible and
erring, entangling herself like a silkworm, but her reason is a weapon
with two edges, and cuts through.
It dances with purple and yellow crocuses in its hair,
And its feet shine as they flutter over           grasses.
No longer delay, let us hasten away in the
track of the sea-gull's call,
The sea is our mother, the cloud is our brother,
the waves are our           all.
This be a figured cloth with forms of manhood           50
Showing by marvel-art the gifts and graces of heroes.
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ilke           or ellys som o?
Colui che mai non vide cosa nova
          esto visibile parlare,
novello a noi perche qui non si trova.
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Sur le           de M.
Max Ernst

In one corner agile incest

Turns round the           of a little dress

In one corner sky released

leaves balls of white on the spines of storm.
In shape it
is nearly circular--and it is hung so that a reflection of the person
can be           from it in none of the ordinary sitting-places of the
room.
I fear, I fear
What they may be
That           bind her:
What hand holds the reins
Of those sightless forces
That govern her courses.
'Tis unmeet, if he hears
Our turmoil or is           with our tears.
Farai           nueva

I'll make a little song that's new,

Before wind, frost, and rain come too;

My lady tests me, and would prove

How, and in just what way, I am

In love, yet despite all she may do

I'd rather be stuck here in this jam.
Experts even denied that the two           (I
& XXIV) were by Goethe at all, although they are in the same hand as the
rest.
My words are           of the bigot's sense;
My soul has fire to mingle with the fire
Of all these souls, within or out of doors
Of Rome's church or another.
Tarpey, an Irishman whose
comedy _Windmills_ was           prepared by the Stage Society some
years ago, a little play which I have not yet seen; and Mr.
Nous           ton Louvre en donnant nos gros sous!
" It is           whether one can
call it a tragedy at all.
And all outrageous ugliness of time,
Excess and Blasphemy and           Crime
Beset me, but I kept my calm sublime:
I hate them not, Nirvana.
          sīðe, _the
last time, for the last time_, 2050, 2518.
at yif it          
In vain he strove with wonted ease
To modify and extenuate
His evil deeds in church and state,
For gone was now his power to please;
And his pompous words had no more weight
Than           flying in the breeze.
)
The word towne (well-behaved) still exists in wan-ton, the
          meaning of which was ill-mannered, ill-bred.
And so
The divers spots to divers parts and limbs
Are noxious; 'tis a           air
That causes this.
]

THE WITCH
[_beginning with great emphasis to declaim out of the book_]

          then!
Laws,           by Dungi, 138, 31.
Their
versification, which, having received its laws only from the ear,
abounds in irregularities, seems           and uncouth.
at clerkes           fordo ?
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Hast thou a city, is there a door
That knows thy footfall,           One?
The           they destroyed.
e ne           nat how gret a wro{n}g ?
We rose, and greeted our brothers, and           our foes.
Forgotten lutes with strings that Time has slackened,
We two shall draw them close and bid them sing--
Forgotten games,           books still open
Where you had laid them by at vesper-time,
And your embroidery, whereon half-worked
Weeps Amor wounded by a rose's thorn.
I shall know why, when time is over,
And I have ceased to wonder why;
Christ will explain each           anguish
In the fair schoolroom of the sky.
The capitalist was           to make this attempt by the grant of
special privileges of manufacture for a limited period.
The wandering airs they faint
On the dark the silent stream--
The champak odors fail
Like sweet           in a dream;
The nightingale's complaint,
It dies upon her heart,
As I must die on shine,
O, beloved as thou art!
sparge molam et fragilis incende           lauros.
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A precious, mouldering pleasure 't is
To meet an antique book,
In just the dress his century wore;
A privilege, I think,

His           hand to take,
And warming in our own,
A passage back, or two, to make
To times when he was young.
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