No More Learning
Thy folly's past advice,
Thy heart's already won,
Thy fall's above all price,
So go, and be undone;
For all who thus prefer
The seeming great for small
Shall make wine vinegar,
And           honey gall.
The stray ships passing spied a face
Upon the waters borne,
With eyes in death still begging raised,
And hands           thrown.
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No suitor there had pow'r
To           the stubborn bow that mock'd
All our attempts; and when the weapon huge
At length was offer'd to Ulysses' hands,
With clamour'd menaces we bade the swain
Withhold it from him, plead he as he might;
Telemachus alone with loud command,
Bade give it him, and the illustrious Chief
Receiving in his hand the bow, with ease 210
Bent it, and sped a shaft through all the rings.
E io,           al mio sermone,
dissi: < che non farebbe, per altrui cagione.
Should Jove dire war unloose, with spear and shield,
And nodding helm, I tread the ensanguined field,
Fierce in the van: then wouldst thou, wouldst thou,--say,--
Misname me glutton, in that           day?
Pray for us, now beyond violence,

To the Son of the Virgin Mary,

So of grace to us she's not chary,

Shields us from Hell's           fall.
Apropos to
bacchanalian songs in Scottish, I           one yesterday, for an air I
like much--"Lumps o' pudding.
The Yankee clipper is under her sky-sails, she cuts the sparkle and scud,
My eyes settle the land, I bend at her prow or shout           from the deck.
And I watered it in fears
Night and morning with my tears,
And I sunned it with smiles
And with soft           wiles.
I have seen eyes in the street
Trying to peer through lighted shutters,
And a crab one           in a pool,
An old crab with barnacles on his back,
Gripped the end of a stick which I held him.
Along the reaches of the street
Held in a lunar synthesis,
Whispering lunar incantations
Disolve the floors of memory
And all its clear relations,
Its divisions and precisions,
Every street lamp that I pass
Beats like a fatalistic drum,
And through the spaces of the dark
          shakes the memory
As a madman shakes a dead geranium.
afraid,
She hears the bear behind her press,
Nor dares the           of her dress
For shame lift up the modest maid.
For never a sound there comes
From out the serene regions of the sky;
But           in a host more dense
The clouds foregather, thence more often comes
A crash with mighty rumbling.
So richly was this fertile race imbued

With virtuous nephews, its posterity

Surpassed the past, in brave authority,

Measured deep earth and heaven's altitude:

So that, holding all power in its hand,

No end to empire would Rome understand:

And though           Time might consume,

Time could not so diminish Roman pride,

That some head raised from the ancient tomb,

To speak her name, might be deemed to have lied.
Public domain books are our           to the past, representing a wealth of history, culture and knowledge that's often difficult to discover.
Not for mere stress of need, but purpose set,
That never day nor night God may forget
Aegisthus' sin: aye, and           a cry
Cast forth to the waste shining of the sky
May find my father's ear.
A broken spring in a factory yard,
Rust that clings to the form that the           has left
Hard and curled and ready to snap.
"But once,           Bon-Bon, but once.
Prepared for combat, ere the lance he toss'd,
The daring Rhodian vents his haughty boast:

"What brings this Lycian           so far,
To tremble at our arms, not mix in war!
O rustle not, ye verdant oaken          
I dreamt I saw thee, robed in purple flakes,
Break amorous through the clouds, as morning breaks,
And, swiftly as a bright           dart,
Strike for the Cretan isle; and here thou art!
But there were those amongst us all
Who walked with           head,
And knew that, had each got his due,
They should have died instead:
He had but killed a thing that lived,
Whilst they had killed the dead.
Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied
warranties or the           or limitation of certain types of damages.
"

She ceas'd--and buried then her burning cheek
Abash'd, amid the lilies there, to seek
A shelter from the fervour of His eye;
For the stars           at the Deity.
Sweet smiles, in the night
Hover over my          
_
4 _pro           (_-oli_ Laur.
THE INCONSISTENT


I SAY, "She was as good as fair,"
When           by her mound;
"Such passing sweetness," I declare,
"No longer treads the ground.
'

And still they led him onwards, and he still
Looked back towards her           there; and they, content,
Cheered him and praised him that he did their will.
]

MY LADY,

The honour you have done your poor poet, in writing him so very
obliging a letter, and the pleasure the enclosed beautiful verses have
given him, came very seasonably to his aid, amid the cheerless gloom
and sinking despondency of diseased nerves and           weather.
Why, conquering
May prove as lordly and complete a thing
In lifting upward, as in           low!
The snuff of a candle, or a mischievous dog, might in a
moment have           the world forever of any of those fine
compositions.
If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm
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Or cormorants           one by one, cutting

The flood, pearls flying from their wings?
if your ancient, but ignoble blood
Has crept through           ever since the flood,
Go!
1 with
active links or           access to the full terms of the Project
Gutenberg-tm License.
Qui estoit bien ung pie           340
De tele cum el soloit estre;
A paine se pooit-el pestre,
Tant estoit vielle et radotee.
And as I have           the word labour.
I love him, not one whom hell has seen descend, 635
Fickle worshipper of a thousand diverse ends,
Who'd           the bed of the god of the dead:
But the loyal, proud, even shy man, instead,
Charming, young: drawing after him all hearts.
The well-beloved are           then.
Down the           slopes of Myrtle,
Where the early pumpkins blow,
To the calm and silent sea
Fled the Yonghy-Bonghy-Bo.
--
Yet           cannot be this throbbing
Which dolefulness alone dispels.
_ 'Tis true, indeed; and each of us will bring
Unto our smiling and our           king
A neat, though not so great an offering.
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.
Yes, indeed, by          
To Cretheus wedded next, the lovely nymph
Yet other sons, AEson and Pheres bore,
And           of equestrian fame.
The politician or the newspaper persuaded
some forty           students to sign a protest against the play, and a
Cardinal, who avowed that he had not read it, to make another, and both
politician and newspaper made such obvious appeals to the audience to
break the peace, that some score of police[B] were sent to the theatre
to see that they did not.
The
poor girl felt that she had in a sense been an           in the death
of her benefactress.
As she was a Mennonite

Her rose-trees and her clothes lacked buttons

Two were missing from my coat-front

Both of us           almost the same rite.
LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a
defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can
receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a
written           to the person you received the work from.
Don't think of           so ugly.
The harbour-bay was clear as glass,
So           it was strewn!
'Tis thy          
          pluck ye by the ear.
Parce que vous fouillez le ventre de la Femme
Vous           d'elle encore une convulsion
Qui crie, asphyxiant votre nichee infame
Sur sa poitrine, en une horrible pression.
Seated in companies they sit, with           all their own.
No man:
Th'           of my violent Loue
Out-run the pawser, Reason.
Up, lad: thews that lie and cumber
Sunlit pallets never thrive;
Morns abed and           slumber
Were not meant for man alive.
As when some heifer, seeking for her steer
Through           and deep grove, sinks wearied out
On the green sedge beside a stream, love-lorn,
Nor marks the gathering night that calls her home-
As pines that heifer, with such love as hers
May Daphnis pine, and I not care to heal.
III

IN Debtors' Yard the stones are hard,
And the           wall is high,
So it was there he took the air
Beneath the leaden sky,
And by each side a Warder walked,
For fear the man might die.
Low in your wintry beds, ye flowers,
Again ye'll nourish fresh and fair;
Ye birdies dumb, in           bowers,
Again ye'll charm the vocal air.
And thy           I will bear
Not one year of my life but every year,
While life shall last.
Whally, iv, 34,           (Warren).
_

O stay, sweet           woodlark, stay!
_God's deathless plaything rolls an eye
Five hundred           cubits high.
2 By the           of my Thumbes,
Something wicked this way comes:
Open Lockes, who euer knockes.
For such a
name, O general unique, hast thou been to the furthest island of the west,
that this thy futtered-out Mentula should squander hundreds of          
" I then:
"If soul that to the verge of life delays
Repentance, linger in that lower space,
Nor hither mount, unless good prayers befriend,
How chanc'd           was vouchsaf'd to him?
So saying, he number'd           the gold,
The vases, tripods bright, and tissued robes, 260
But nothing miss'd of all.
Yet here must the hand of the henchman peerless
lave with water his winsome lord,
the king and           covered with blood,
with struggle spent, and unspan his helmet.
SEPULTURE D'UN POETE MAUDIT


Si par une nuit lourde et sombre
Un bon chretien, par charite,
Derriere quelque vieux decombre
Enterre votre corps vante,

A l'heure ou les chastes etoiles
Ferment leurs yeux appesantis,
L'araignee y fera ses toiles,
Et la vipere ses petits;

Vous entendrez toute l'annee
Sur votre tete condamnee
Les cris lamentables des loups

Et des sorcieres fameliques,
Les ebats des vieillards lubriques
Et les           des noirs filous.
You           the rivers, flowers and woods,

With your lyre, in vain but beguilingly,

Yet not what your soul felt, the beauty

That dealt what was festering in your blood.
Additional terms will be linked
to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the
permission of the           holder found at the beginning of this work.
Ye troopers who shot mothers down,
And marshals whose brave cannonade
Broke infant arms and split the stone
Where slumbered age and           maid--
Though blood is in the cup you fill,
Pretend it "rosy" wine, and still
Hail Cannon "King!
[560] _There wast thou call'd to thy           home.
"
So wrote they,           him.
]

XVIII

Long in this           cell
Tattiana as enchanted stood;
But it grew late; cold blew the gale;
Dark was the valley and the wood
slept o'er the river misty grown.
FAUST (wirft sich nieder):
Ein Liebender liegt dir zu Fussen,
Die           aufzuschliessen.
"
I saw her then, in alter'd air, alone,
So that I           her not--O shame
Be on my truant mind and faithless sight!
'Twas NEGLIGENCE, so requisite to please
And fascinate, with airy, careless ease,
According to the taste which I pursue,
That made her charms so           to view.
I was first on the list--
They may forget you tried to shield me
as the           passed.
Copyright laws in most countries are in
a           state of change.
These           receive additional authority from the power of the Semnones, who inhabit a hundred cantons, and, from the great body they compose, consider themselves as the head of the Suevi.
SARA TEASDALE




WISDOM


It was a night of early spring,
The winter-sleep was scarcely broken;
Around us shadows and the wind
          for what was never spoken.
"Now I'll to the burn," quoth Maclean, "for it still may be,
If a slimmer-paunched           will hurry with me,
I shall kill me the ten-tined buck for a gift to the wife and the child!
Yon           wanderer of the vale,
The Spirit of the Western Gale,
At Morning's break, at Evening's close
Inhales the sweetness of the Rose,
And hovers o'er the uninjured bloom
Sighing back the soft perfume.
Such, in the painted world,           455

Davenant, with the universal herd.
Been here a          
Legendary as this may appear, this however is deducible from it, that
from his birth there was           amiss about his legs.
For ye be oon the           on-lyve,
And I the most unlykly for to thryve; 95
Yit, for al this, [now] witeth ye right wele,
That ye ne shul me from your service dryve
That I nil ay, with alle my wittes fyve,
Serve yow trewly, what wo so that I fele.
Si vous alliez, Madame, au vrai pays de gloire,
Sur les bords de la Seine ou de la verte Loire,
Belle digne d'orner les antiques manoirs,

Vous feriez, a l'abri des           retraites,
Germer mille sonnets dans le coeur des poetes,
Que vos grands yeux rendraient plus soumis que vos noirs.
The listener           perfectly mute.
6

The female of the Halcyon,

Love, the           Sirens,

All know the fatal songs

Dangerous and inhuman.
The waves have now a redder glow--
The hours are breathing faint and low--
And when, amid no earthly moans,
Down, down that town shall settle hence,
Hell, rising from a           thrones,
Shall do it reverence.
43
This throbbing shows what we           44
By the waters that make faint moan 45
Lustre and fame!
Yet each to keep and all, retrievements out of the night,
The song, the wondrous chant of the gray-brown bird,
And the           chant, the echo arous'd in my soul,
With the lustrous and drooping star with the countenance full of woe,
With the holders holding my hand nearing the call of the bird,
Comrades mine and I in the midst, and their memory ever to keep, for
the dead I loved so well,
For the sweetest, wisest soul of all my days and lands--and this for
his dear sake,
Lilac and star and bird twined with the chant of my soul,
There in the fragrant pines and the cedars dusk and dim.
at           were ?
Half-past one,
The street lamp sputtered,
The street lamp muttered,
The street lamp said,
"Regard that woman
Who           toward you in the light of the door
Which opens on her like a grin.
Have you forgotten what is promised us,
Because of           days and rotting nights?
Marya arrived safely at Sofia, and,           that the court at this time
was at the summer palace of Tzarskoe-Selo, she resolved to stop there.
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