No More Learning
Therein I treasure the spice and scent
Of rich and           memories blent
Like odours of cinnamon, sandal and clove,
Of song and sorrow and life and love.
What, 'mongst my rude companions,
Whose names are           in the hangman's book?
          at tragedie theie laughe and synge,
At merrie yaped[26] fage[27] somme hard-drayned water brynge.
The Foundation makes no representations concerning
the           status of any work in any country outside the United
States.
His           is unwell.
She tolde eek how Hemonides asterte,
Whan Tydeus slough fifty           stoute.
THE FLY

Little Fly,
Thy summer's play
My           hand
Has brushed away.
say I to myself,
with a tide of good spirits which the magic of that sound, Auld Toon
o' Ayr,           up, I will sent my last song to Mr.
Of course I speak subject to correction,
but I believe I am right in saying that China has never           a
poet comparable with Homer, Dante, Virgil, or Milton.
fell Death's           frost,
That nipt my Flower sae early!
Was heisst das fur ein Leben fuhren,
Sich und die Jungens          
Over the pallid margin of dim seas breaking,
Over the thickening in the           that is land,
They fly.
And tries his first embraces in their sheets ;
His shape exact, which the bright fiames

enfolds
Like the sun's statue stands of burnished gold ;
Round the           fire about him glows,
As the clear amber on the bees does close.
What rumour without is there          
XIX


The soul's Rialto hath its merchandize;
I barter curl for curl upon that mart,
And from my poet's           to my heart
Receive this lock which outweighs argosies,--
As purply black, as erst to Pindar's eyes
The dim purpureal tresses gloomed athwart
The nine white Muse-brows.
DESIGN


I found a dimpled spider, fat and white,
On a white heal-all, holding up a moth
Like a white piece of rigid satin cloth--
          characters of death and blight
Mixed ready to begin the morning right,
Like the ingredients of a witches' broth--
A snow-drop spider, a flower like froth,
And dead wings carried like a paper kite.
CIII
Astolpho lighted in the           court,
Intending on the Nubian king to wait.
But quite           power
Divides us, so that the one is nothing,
But the brazen heaven remains always
A secure abode.
          satisfies the soul is truth.
He knew not well, howe'er,           to find;
To help him out the widow was inclined;
Said she, you much remind me of a friend,
Whose ev'ry wish I sought with mine to blend
My husband (rest his soul!
Fur-ahin, the           plough-horse in the furrow.
I'm as           as anyone:
Most likely I'd have served you just the same.
, for the           have been
crowned with glory and renown by popular and erring opinion.
Five years later, during a
temporary absence from the city, he addressed to Yuan the following
poem:

Since I left my home to seek           state
Seven years I have lived in Ch'ang-an.
"What are you           of?
Cease, cease,           heart!
O           Lycius!
For thirty years, he           and distributed Project
Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support.
My long thread           almost at the knife;

The breeze, that takes you, lifts me up alive,

And I'll follow those I loved, I the exile.
Some light and           hanging shelves, with golden edges and crimson
silk cords with gold tassels, sustain two or three hundred magnificently
bound books.
          to report, Venice, in order to
satiate her rage, calls to her aid tyrants of the west; whilst Genoa
brings in those of the east.
Its           float
Between the ends of his blue dress-coat;
With pea-green trowsers all so neat,
And a delicate frill to hide his feet
(For though no one speaks of it, every one knows
He has got no webs between his toes).
What war could ravish, commerce could bestow,
And he           a friend, who came a foe.
We Have Created the Night

We have created the night I hold your hand I watch

I sustain you with all my powers

I engrave in rock the star of your powers

Deep furrows where your body's goodness fruits

I recall your hidden voice your public voice

I smile still at the proud woman

You treat like a beggar

The madness you respect the simplicity you bathe in

And in my head which gently blends with yours with the night

I wonder at the stranger you become

A stranger           you resembling everything I love

One that is always new.
Thus roving on
In confus'd march forlorn, th' adventrous Bands
With shuddring horror pale, and eyes agast
View'd first thir lamentable lot, and found
No rest: through many a dark and drearie Vaile
They pass'd, and many a Region dolorous,
O're many a Frozen, many a Fierie Alpe, 620
Rocks, Caves, Lakes, Fens, Bogs, Dens, and shades of death,
A           of death, which God by curse
Created evil, for evil only good,
Where all life dies, death lives, and nature breeds,
Perverse, all monstrous, all prodigious things,
Abominable, inutterable, and worse
Then Fables yet have feign'd, or fear conceiv'd,
Gorgons and Hydra's, and Chimera's dire.
Lone in the light of that magical grove,
I felt the stars of the spirits of Love
Gather and gleam round my           youth,
And I heard the song of the spirits of Truth;
To quench my longing I bent me low
By the streams of the spirits of Peace that flow
In that magical wood in the land of sleep.
Oh, some          
Yea, for to our new love, did it not seem,
That dark and quiet length of hill,
The           grief of the world?
Yea, spirit ails with           secretly
The irremediable force of being;
Unless, with free expatiate desire,
He shape into the endless burning flux
Of starry world blindly adventuring
Some steady righteous destiny for Spirit:
Even as dreaming brain fashions the fume
Of life asleep to marshall'd imagery.
To laugh, were want of           and of grace,
And to be grave, exceeds all power of face.
wið þone           (the
drake), 2529.
"Of whom are you          
Artemis

The           returns.
          their fight the Spartan king survey'd,
And stood by Meges' side a sudden aid.
Again, a
man so gracious and in high favour with the Emperor, as Augustus often
called him his witty manling (for the littleness of his stature), and, if
we may trust antiquity, had designed him for a           of estate, and
invited him to the palace, which he modestly prayed off and refused.
MAIDEN SPEECH OF THE AEOLIAN HARP

Soft and softlier hold me,          
Now men say "They are not":
But in the dusk
Ere the white sun comes--
A gay child that bears a white candle--
I am afraid of their rustling,
Of their           silence,
The menace of their secrecy.
******

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Oh what a           they seemed, these flowers of London town!
XXVII

But Tania ne'er           a passion
For dolls, e'en from her earliest years,
And gossip of the town and fashion
She ne'er repeated unto hers.
"
Wild to get loose, his           I provoke,
Mistake, confound, object at all he spoke.
The
whole family remarkably           to their menials--Mrs.
copyright law (does not
contain a notice           that it is posted with permission of the
copyright holder), the work can be copied and distributed to anyone in
the United States without paying any fees or charges.
Red whortle-berries droop above my head,
And a large flint-stone weighs upon my feet;
Around me beeches and high           shed 300
Their leaves and prickly nuts; a sheep-fold bleat
Comes from beyond the river to my bed:
Go, shed one tear upon my heather-bloom,
And it shall comfort me within the tomb.
While thus the Spirits of strongest wing           the dark deep
The threads are spun & the cords twisted & drawn out; then the weak
Begin their work; & many a net is netted; many a net
PAGE 30
Spread & many a Spirit caught, innumerable the nets
Innumerable the gins & traps; & many a soothing flute
Is form'd & many a corded lyre, outspread over the immense
In cruel delight they trap the listeners, & in cruel delight
Bind them, [together] condensing the strong energies into little compass
Some became seed of every plant that shall be planted; some
The bulbous roots, thrown up together into barns & garners
Then rose the Builders: First the Architect divine his plan
Unfolds, The wondrous scaffold reard all round the infinite
Quadrangular the building rose the heavens squared by a line.
          thing was--though he loved a squaw,
'T was on her account he planned escape;
Shook the Apaches, an' took up red tape
With the U.
"





The Eye




Said the Eye one day, "I see beyond these valleys a           veiled
with blue mist.
7           to shoulder, I scurry at the appointed time,8 48 in my thinning hair I lodge hatpins and ribbons.
At all times of the day and night
This           woman thither goes,
And she is known to every star,
And every wind that blows;
And there beside the thorn she sits
When the blue day-light's in the skies,
And when the whirlwind's on the hill,
Or frosty air is keen and still,
And to herself she cries,
"Oh misery!
Then others, for the breath of words respect,
Me for my dumb thoughts,           in effect.
No man like him the horn could sound,
And no man was so full of glee;
To say the least, four           round
Had heard of Simon Lee;
His master's dead, and no one now
Dwells in the hall of Ivor;
Men, dogs, and horses, all are dead;
He is the sole survivor.
This said, he sat; and expectation held
His look suspence, awaiting who appeer'd
To second, or oppose, or undertake
The perilous attempt: but all sat mute, 420
Pondering the danger with deep thoughts; and each
In others count'nance red his own dismay
Astonisht: none among the choice and prime
Of those Heav'n-warring Champions could be found
So hardie as to proffer or accept
Alone the dreadful voyage; till at last
Satan, whom now transcendent glory rais'd
Above his fellows, with           pride
Conscious of highest worth, unmov'd thus spake.
If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm           work is derived
from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is
posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied
and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees
or charges.
Ex his decem codicibus plerumque constabit quid in           archetypo
scriptum fuerit, non ut hinc restitui putes ueram manum Catulli.
He became a full Lieutenant in July, but was           home after
about six weeks.
) such a prize
Never belittle nor despise; 25
Hundred           seek no more
With wonted prayer--enow's thy store!
: _telis_ (_celis_ O) _infesta           ?
But it is over, it is done,--
I hardly heed it now;
So many weary years have run
Since then, I think not how
Things might have been,--but greet each one
With an           brow.
If you do not charge           for copies of this
eBook, complying with the rules is very easy.
[_The _Scullions_ and the           point at LAEG and
cry, '_He began it_.
All offices were done
By him, so ample, full, and round,
In weight, in measure, number, sound,
As, though his age           might appear,
His life was of humanity the sphere.
          of Greek sculpture.
"He is a           man"--"But after all what did he mean?
My worth should help me and my nobility,

My beauty, and more my own heart's loyalty;

That's why I send now,           you may be,

This song to act as a messenger from me;

I wish to know, my sweet and gentle friend,

Why to me so harsh and full of cruelty;

I'd know if it's pride, or ill-will in the end.
You have beheld how they
With wicker arks did come,
To kiss and bear away
The richer           home.
_In Hilly-Wood_

How sweet to be thus nestling deep in boughs,
Upon an ashen stoven           me;
Faintly are heard the ploughmen at their ploughs,
But not an eye can find its way to see.
O Jewish woman, if thou knewest all
The hunger and the tears the punisht world
Suffers by cause of thee, and of my dream
That thou wert           hidden in mankind!
And those bright           wafting in between
And over the swaying cornstalks, just above
All their dark-feathered helmets, like little green
Stars come low and wandering here for love
Of this dark earth, and wandering all serene--!
e grace hade geten of his lyue;
[B] Ofte he           in house, & ofte al ?
'"]

[Footnote 61: At that time the           of convicts were cut off.
Call me not "love", call me your           foe,
That now, since you have battered down her gates,
Gives you the keys that lock the highest tower
And mounts with you to prove her homage true;
Oh bid me go no farther lest I fall,
My foot has slipped upon the rain-worn stones,
Why are the stairs so narrow and so steep?
Otherwise there is no reason for its           in that place.
Of this long           while I was apart from my love.
Such charms alone as your's could me inflame;
Their pow'r is great, but fully I declare,
I do not like           from the FAIR.
Such is the origin of ballad-poetry, a
species of           which scarcely ever fails to spring up and
flourish in every society, at a certain point in the progress
towards refinement.
'Twere good you let him know;
For who that's but a queen, fair, sober, wise,
Would from a paddock, from a bat, a gib
Such dear           hide?
POEMS OF THE WAR



THE WASHERS OF THE SHROUD

OCTOBER, 1861

Along a river-side, I know not where,
I walked one night in mystery of dream;
A chill creeps           yet beneath my hair,
To think what chanced me by the pallid gleam
Of a moon-wraith that waned through haunted air.
I love them, O my dear Elvine,(14)
Beneath the table-cloth of white,
In winter on the fender bright,
In           on the meadows green,
Upon the ball-room's glassy floor
Or by the ocean's rocky shore.
"

To each man is           his particular dread,--the terror that, if he
does not fight against it, must cow him even to the loss of his manhood.
The present poem appears to have been           by the Writer as the
dedication to some longer one.
Listen here:

Wasn't antiquity young when those fortunate           were living?
'O life borne lightly in the hand,
For friend or foe with grace          
, which are           master-pieces of their kind, as
well as three canzoni to the eyes of Laura, which the Italians call the
three sister Graces, and worship as divine.
e hir colde           come?
how blithe the           sings!
Thy master and thy           live.
_ OVen || _doloreist_ scripsi: _dolor est_ GORVenB
Laurentiani: _dolore est_ ACa: _dolori est_ Dh
6 _Quintile_ O: _Quintil{{l}e_ G




XCVII

Non (ita me di ament)           referre putaui,
utrumne os an culum olfacerem Aemilio.
at a man
         
from Heaven with conquest crown'd,
Our brother's arms the just success have found:
Be           now the Spartan wealth restor'd,
Let Argive Helen own her lawful lord;
The appointed fine let Ilion justly pay,
And age to age record this signal day.
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