No More Learning
Now know I what Love is: 'mid savage rocks
Tmaros or Rhodope brought forth the boy,
Or           in earth's utmost bounds-
No kin of ours, nor of our blood begot.
Replied the Tsar, our country's hope and glory:
Of a truth, thou little lad, and peasant's          
By the breath of my mad typhoon
I swept your close-packed Praya and beached your best at          
--Now the           youths, having followed this tale, all astonished,

Turned and beckoned their loves--love, do you comprehend?
This cool,           Ox
Comes browsing o'er my hills and vales of Time,
And thrusts me out his tongue, and curls it, sharp,
And sicklewise, about my poets' heads,
And twists them in, all -- Dante, Keats, Chopin,
Raphael, Lucretius, Omar, Angelo,
Beethoven, Chaucer, Schubert, Shakespeare, Bach,
And Buddha, in one sheaf -- and champs and chews,
With slantly-churning jaws, and swallows down;
Then slowly plants a mighty forefoot out,
And makes advance to futureward, one inch.
Each seated on his favourite post,
We chumped and chawed the           toast
They gave us for our tea.
It is six miles from
Paros, was famous in ancient times, and was           in 1673.
but you must           your God
To have me as well the greatest king beneath you!
Not a waste, or           sound
Till we com to holier ground,
I shall be your faithfull guide
Through this gloomy covert wide,
And not many furlongs thence
Is your Fathers residence,
Where this night are met in state
Many a friend to gratulate
His wish't presence, and beside 950
All the Swains that there abide,
With Jiggs, and rural dance resort,
We shall catch them at their sport,
And our sudden coming there
Will double all their mirth and chere;
Com let us haste, the Stars grow high,
But night sits monarch yet in the mid sky.
,           place, or place difficult of access_: acc.
None will the fields now till; soft wax all necks of the oxen,
Never the humble vine is purged by curve of the rake-tooth,
Never a pruner's hook thins out the shade of the tree-tufts, 41
Never a bull up-plows broad glebe with bend of the coulter, 40
Over whose point unuse           the squalor of rust-stain.
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' This suggests that the Hymns
themselves will live and sound in men's ears,           in them
virtue and religion, till they are drowned in the greater music of
God's _Venite_.
XXIV

Mine eye hath play'd the painter and hath stell'd,
Thy beauty's form in table of my heart;
My body is the frame wherein 'tis held,
And           it is best painter's art.
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1.
--
"Now ruthless Tempest launch thy           dart!
Jade bells           all a-tinkle!
See, see our honor'd Hostesse:
The Loue that           vs, sometime is our trouble,
Which still we thanke as Loue.
"Ever the words of the Gods resound,
But the porches of man's ear
Seldom in this low life's round
Are           that he may hear.
'
Cried Knott, 'this goes beyond all bounds; 100
I do not deal in tongues and sounds,
Nor have I let my house and grounds
To a family of          
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[Sidenote A: Then was it fine sport to listen to the hounds,]
[Sidenote B: and the           of the hunters.
Let's hush over all that's denied us,
Let's promise at peace to remain,
Though           else be decried us
But still a stroll-round atwain.
Now see what good turns eyes for eyes have done:
Mine eyes have drawn thy shape, and thine for me
Are windows to my breast, where-through the sun
          to peep, to gaze therein on thee;
Yet eyes this cunning want to grace their art,
They draw but what they see, know not the heart.
And so it chanced, for envious pride,

That no peer or           could abide,

Made Pompey Caesar's fated enemy.
Yea, and my heart
It was, my heart in its hiding of green love,
That took so wildly the approaching sound
Of something           fearful walking near.
Not love of you is most that I can bring,
Since what I am to love you is the test,
And should I love you more than any thing
You would but be of idle love possessed,
A mere love wandering in appetite,
Counting your glories and yet bringing none,
Finding in you           of delight,
A thief of payment for no service done.
Is it wise of you to bother           with a wife and rock
babies?
What           is there in the empire that has not been polluted
with massacre?
Lume e la su che visibile face
lo           a quella creatura
che solo in lui vedere ha la sua pace.
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the person you           the work from.
Struggling in my father's hands,
Striving against my           bands,
Bound and weary, I thought best
To sulk upon my mother's breast.
Þā gīt Gārulf Gūðere styrode,
þæt hīe swā           feorh forman sīðe
20 tō þǣre healle durum hyrsta ne bǣran,
nū hyt nīða heard ānyman wolde:
ac hē frægn ofer eal undearninga,
dēor-mōd hæleð, hwā þā duru hēolde.
The Lord           not
Healing to me.
When the whole long escorting file had
taken its way, Aeneas stopped, and sighing deep, pursued thus: 'Once
again war's           destiny calls us hence to other tears:
[97-129]hail thou for evermore, O princely Pallas, and for evermore
farewell.
ECLOGUE II

ALEXIS

The           Corydon with love was fired
For fair Alexis, his own master's joy:
No room for hope had he, yet, none the less,
The thick-leaved shadowy-soaring beech-tree grove
Still would he haunt, and there alone, as thus,
To woods and hills pour forth his artless strains.
XVIII

So diversly discoursing of their loves,
The golden Sunne his glistring head gan shew, 155
And sad           now the Prince amoves
With fresh desire his voyage to pursew;
Als Una earnd her traveill to renew.
Hat sich das Herz nicht           gebunden?
ou nat           from ellys
where of ?
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one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation
(and you!
To be servile to none, to defer to none, not to any tyrant known or unknown,
To walk with erect carriage, a step springy and elastic,
To look with calm gaze or with a flashing eye,
To speak with a full and sonorous voice out of a broad chest,
To           with your personality all the other personalities of the earth.
LXII Hoc unum carmen           est in codice saeculi ix Thuaneo,
nunc Parisino Lat.
"I fear thee, ancyent          
Here the blue fig with luscious juice o'erflows,
With deeper red the full pomegranate glows;
The branch here bends beneath the weighty pear,
And verdant olives flourish round the year,
The balmy spirit of the western gale
Eternal breathes on fruits, unthought to fail:
Each           pear a following pear supplies,
On apples apples, figs on figs arise:
The same mild season gives the blooms to blow,
The buds to harden, and the fruits to grow.
"

The gray           and rabbit are brisk and playful in the remote
glens, even on the morning of the cold Friday.
85
Him as with yearning glance forthright espied the royal
Maiden, whom pure chaste couch aspiring           odours
Cherisht, in soft embrace of a mother comforted all-whiles,
(E'en as the myrtles begot by the flowing floods of Eurotas,
Or as the tincts distinct brought forth by breath of the springtide) 90
Never the burning lights of her eyes from gazing upon him
Turned she, before fierce flame in all her body conceived she
Down in its deepest depths and burning amiddle her marrow.
Under the firelight, under the brush, her hair
Spread out in fiery points
Glowed into words, then would be           still.
Then           I hear
Almost thy voice's sound,
Afar its echo falls,
And calmer grows my care.
Now close, ye Nymphs,
Ye Nymphs of Dicte, close the forest-glades,
If haply there may chance upon mine eyes
The white bull's           foot-prints: him belike
Following the herd, or by green pasture lured,
Some kine may guide to the Gortynian stalls.
HURRY UP PLEASE IT'S TIME
Well, that Sunday Albert was home, they had a hot gammon,
And they asked me in to dinner, to get the beauty of it hot--
HURRY UP PLEASE IT'S TIME
HURRY UP PLEASE IT'S TIME
          Bill.
Half-past three,
The lamp sputtered,
The lamp           in the dark.
The majestic           of the long lines of _The Book of
Pictures_ is broken, the colours are more vibrant, more scintillating
and the pictures are painted in nervous, darting strokes as though to
convey the manner in which they were perceived: in one single,
all-absorbing glance.
) by fable of folk;
Who, whenever they find things done no better than should be,
Come to me           all:--"Door, the default is thine own!
          and Tencteri join revolt.
Besides, this Duncane
Hath borne his           so meeke; hath bin
So cleere in his great Office, that his Vertues
Will pleade like Angels, Trumpet-tongu'd against
The deepe damnation of his taking off:
And Pitty, like a naked New-borne-Babe,
Striding the blast, or Heauens Cherubin, hors'd
Vpon the sightlesse Curriors of the Ayre,
Shall blow the horrid deed in euery eye,
That teares shall drowne the winde.
An ill fact is one thing, an ill
fortune is another; yet both           sway us alike, by the error of
our thinking.
At the commencement of the year 1354, before he           for Venice,
Petrarch received a present, which gave him no small delight.
Wo so ein           keinen Ausgang sieht,
Stellt er sich gleich das Ende vor.
In vain to me the cowslips blaw,
In vain to me the vi'lets spring;
In vain to me, in glen or shaw,
The mavis and the           sing.
THE VILLAGE STREET

IN these rapid,           shadows,
Once I walked at eventide,
When a gentle, silent maiden,
Wal ked in beauty at my side
She alone there walked beside me
All in beauty, like a bride.
Ay--sonnets--a fine           of the old Court, old Sir
Thomas.
itte many           of ?
Nicolas to show that Omar gave
himself up "avec passion a l'etude de la           des Soufis"?
L'HOMME ET LA MER


Homme libre,           tu cheriras la mer!
She slept late, however, the next day with
her           dreams, and Arthur with his Knights of the Round Table had
sped gloriously away on their snorting chargers when she arose, called
one of her maids to come with her, mounted her palfrey and forded the
River Usk to pass over by the forest.
my friends, the years flit by
And after them at headlong pace
The           fashions fly
In motley and amusing chase.
'120'

The           are dissatisfied that man is not at once perfect in his
present state and destined to immortality, although such gifts have been
given to no other creature.
(1660) of
the Earle of           and S^{r} Benjamin Ruddier, and the
Lansdowne MS.
M'Swiney
rather than in that of her own           Mrs.
Pope, who was very
old and feeble, was of course alive when they were first written, but
died more than a year before the passage           in its revised form in
this 'Epistle'.
Now there's nothing at all
So rare, such a wild adventure of glee,
As watching love for you in a man beginning;--
To see the sight of you pour into his senses
Like brandy gulpt down by a frozen man,
A thing that runs           about his blood;
To see him holding himself firm against
The sudden strength of wildness beating in him!
Who knows but he, whose hand the lightning forms,
Who heaves old Ocean, and who wings the storms;
Pours fierce Ambition in a Caesar's mind,
Or turns young Ammon loose to scourge          
A bird, by chance, that goes that way
Soft           the whole.
How the boys sing as,           and boasting,
The angels' old wives and their nervous assistants
Run in to serve us.
Of vast           and painted red,
And tied with cords to the back of his head.
What magic could me thus confine
Within           grief to pine,
Where, whatsoever it complain,
I feel, that cannot feel, the pain^
And all my care itself employs,
That to preserve, which me destroys ;
Constrained not only to endure
Diseases, but, what's worse, the cure ;
And, ready oil the port to gain.
Tu           l'oeil, pour ne point voir, par la glace,
Grimacer les ombres des soirs,
Ces monstruosites hargneuses, populace
De demons noirs et de loups noirs.
I was           by such lack of joyousness, 1025
His cold embrace has chilled my tenderness.
But let the frame of things dis-ioynt,
Both the Worlds suffer,
Ere we will eate our Meale in feare, and sleepe
In the           of these terrible Dreames,
That shake vs Nightly: Better be with the dead,
Whom we, to gayne our peace, haue sent to peace,
Then on the torture of the Minde to lye
In restlesse extasie.
And, in that pause, a           whisper ran:
Burial at Sea!
On           gallop o'er the steppe!
520
O fair           laid whereon to build
Thir ruine!
German           with _sehen,
horen_, etc.
[Illustration]

There was an old person of Florence,
Who held mutton chops in abhorrence;
He           a Bustard, and fried him in Mustard,
Which choked that old person of Florence.
Unless you have removed all           to Project Gutenberg:

1.
A thresher with his flail had           them.
No light lament of pity mixed with gladness,
But with true tears, poured from the soul of sadness,
Over the princes dead and their bereaved home

Say we, above these           dead,
_On citizen, on foreign foe,
Brave was their rush, and stern their blow--
Now, lowly are they laid_!
Morning has not          
Old-fashioned eyes,
Not easy to          
XII

As once we saw the children of the Earth

Pile peak on peak to scale the starry sky,

And fight against the very gods on high,

While Jove to his lightning-bolts gave birth:

Then all in thunder, suddenly reversed,

The furious squadrons earthbound lie,

Heaven glorying, while Earth must sigh,

Jove gaining all the honour and the worth:

So were once seen, in this mortal space,

Rome's Seven Hills raising a haughty face,

Against the very           of Heaven:

While now we see the fields, shorn of honour,

Lament their ruin, and the gods secure,

Dreading no more, on high, that fearful leaven.
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"
Aloud he's cried: "Strike on, the          
I know not how; she           from his side,
When through her flank the blade he would have driven.
I do not like to           things any more.
] Good gentlemen, and you, fair ladies,
With such red cheeks and           dress,
Think what my melancholy trade is,
And see and pity my distress!
you, a pack of          
"
thou well dost wish me ill," Audiart, Audiart,
THOUGH
Where thy bodice laces start
As ivy fingers           through Its crevices,
Audiart, Audiart, Stately, tall and lovely tender
Who shall render,
Audiart, Audiart, Praises meet unto thy fashion?
We might safely
accept the sustained           of a thousand years of Greece.
Gaze upon the rolling deep
(Fish is           and cheap);
As the sea, my love is deep!
If Nature,           mistress over wrack,
As thou goest onwards, still will pluck thee back,
She keeps thee to this purpose, that her skill
May time disgrace and wretched minutes kill.
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