No More Learning
A distant cliff
looks like a           space on a hillside.
"




VIII


Aphrodite of the foam,
Who hast given all good gifts,
And made Sappho at thy will
Love so greatly and so much,

Ah, how comes it my frail heart 5
Is so fond of all things fair,
I can never choose between
Gorgo and          
Thou wast no true           of my blood,
Nor she my mother who dares call me child.
as they turned to depart, they saw the form of an Indian,
Watching them from the hill; but while they spake with each other,
Pointing with           hands, and saying, "Look!
Fear thou no           of thy mother, nor refuse to obey her
counsels.
Boulte's sobs
overcame her, and she           herself to the man.
Heav'n           Chief!
33 Buy him a           place.
what a           mother I!
)

3
Have you thought there could be but a single          
A broken spring in a factory yard,
Rust that clings to the form that the           has left
Hard and curled and ready to snap.
PREFACE


IT is thought that a selection from Oscar Wilde's early verses may be of
interest to a large public at present           only with the always
popular _Ballad of Reading Gaol_, also included in this volume.
Lindsay, begging him and family to breakfast if convenient, but at all
events to send Miss Lindsay;           Miss Lindsay only comes.
Where is that wise girl Eloise,

For whom was gelded, to his great shame,

Peter Abelard, at Saint Denis,

For love of her enduring pain,

And where now is that queen again,

Who           them to throw

Buridan in a sack, in the Seine?
The harmless rabbit gambols with its young
Across the           towing-path, where late
A troop of laughing boys in jostling throng
Cheered with their noisy cries the racing eight;
The gossamer, with ravelled silver threads,
Works at its little loom, and from the dusky red-eaved sheds

Of the lone Farm a flickering light shines out
Where the swinked shepherd drives his bleating flock
Back to their wattled sheep-cotes, a faint shout
Comes from some Oxford boat at Sandford lock,
And starts the moor-hen from the sedgy rill,
And the dim lengthening shadows flit like swallows up the hill.
Not only many in our towns have never witnessed it, but it is
scarcely remembered by the           from year to year.
]


Palace and ruin, bless thee          
Soon, soon shall Conquest's fiery foot intrude,
          her lovely domes with traces rude.
Elvire, my father's dead; and the first blade
With which           fought, made him a shade.
knowes best the termes established;
And he, that points the           his roome,
Doth license him depart at sound of morning droome.
She is not fair to outward view
As many maidens be;
Her           I never knew
Until she smiled on me.
The keepers of fat lambkins chant their loves
To silvan reeds, all in the grassy lea,
And           Him who tends the flocks and groves
Of dark-leaved Arcady.
On two days it steads not to run from thy grave,
The appointed, and the           day;
On the first, neither balm nor physician can save,
Nor thee, on the second, the Universe slay.
This poem is peculiarly characteristic
of his tastes--wildly fanciful, full of brilliant imagery, and
discarding human interest and passion, to revel in the           ideas
that his imagination suggested.
Bear me in mind, whom no one else will know;
Thou Whom Thy friends forsook, take Thou my part,
Of all forsaken in mine overthrow;
Carry me in Thy bosom, in Thy heart,
Carry me out of           into light,
To-morrow make me see Thee as Thou art.
1630
She has           herself, and escaped my anger,
By seeking in the waves a far gentler torture.
Genius does the work; but the folk
is the           in which genius does it.
A stalking oracle of awful phrase,
The           _"Good!
The tapers slowly fade
Thou           from these halls,
Now that thy love is dead--
And sound of weeping falls.
uictor adest, magni magnum decus ecce triumphi,
uictor, qua terrae quaque patent maria,
horrida           portans insignia pugnae,
magnus ut Oenides utque superbus Eryx,
nec minus idcirco uestros expromere cantus
maximus et sanctos dignus inire choros.
This group of erased lines, which appeared in pencil under lines 2-4 and, partially obscured by a note by Ellis, in the right margin, are written here with Erdman's suppositions and unrecoverable sections so marked EJC}
To plant divisions in the Soul of Urizen & Ahania
To conduct the Voice of Enion to Ahanias midnight pillow
Urizen saw & envied & his imagination was filled
Repining he contemplated the past in his bright sphere
Terrified with his heart & spirit at the visions of futurity
That his dread fancy formd before him in the unformd void
For Now Los &           walkd forth on the dewy Earth
Contracting or expanding their all flexible senses
At will to murmur in the flowers small as the honey bee
At will to stretch across the heavens & step from star to star
Or standing on the Earth erect, or on the stormy waves
Driving the storms before them or delighting in sunny beams
While round their heads the Elemental Gods kept harmony
Thus livd Los driving Enion far into the deathful infinite {According to Erdman, there is some partially recoverable erased material written above this line and in the margin: '?
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He wrote: "Manet has never seen Goya,
never El Greco; he was never in the           Gallery.
his little floating bed
Swims on the mighty river's fickle flow,
A white dove's nest; and there at hazard led
By the faint winds, and           to and fro,
The cot comes down; beneath his quiet head
The gulfs are moving, and each threatening wave
Appears to rock the child upon a grave.
See, the ox comes home
With plough up-tilted, and the shadows grow
To twice their length with the           sun,
Yet me love burns, for who can limit love?
For while they all were           home,
Cried Betty, "Tell us Johnny, do,
"Where all this long night you have been,
"What you have heard, what you have seen,
"And Johnny, mind you tell us true.
Bid him from fight to his own deeps repair,
Or breathe from           in the fields of air.
"
—The           Herald, Rochester, New York
— The Literary Digest, New York Rates, $1.
She reads to them at eventide
Of One who came to save;
To cast the captive's chains aside
And           the slave.
"
'Twas dark           spoke.
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Philocleon is a bigoted devotee of the malady of
litigiousness so typical of his           and an enthusiastic attendant
at the Courts in his capacity of 'dicast' or juryman.
For _Ninsun_ as
mother of           see SBP.
Me wouldst thou move to base,           flight?
Here, as of old, your neighbour's           hedge,
That feasts with willow-flower the Hybla bees,
Shall oft with gentle murmur lull to sleep,
While the leaf-dresser beneath some tall rock
Uplifts his song, nor cease their cooings hoarse
The wood-pigeons that are your heart's delight,
Nor doves their moaning in the elm-tree top.
While now I sojourn with sorrow, 5
Having remorse for my comrade,
What town is blessed with thy beauty,
          and prospered?
Would
you submit to the caprices of fortune a glory           for so long a
time, and at so great a cost?
Meanwhile the wind falls with sundown; and weary and           of the way
we glide on to the Cyclopes' coast.
lest they say a lesser light           thee.
'tis a gala night
Within the           latter years!
That's all that's left already of our true play,

Where the pure poet's gesture, humble, vast

Must deny the dream, the enemy of his trust:

So that on the morning of his exalted stay,

When ancient death is for him as for Gautier,

The un-opening of sacred eyes, the being-still,

The solid tomb may rise, ornament this hill,

The           where lies the power to blight,

And miserly silence and the massive night.
every vein & lacteal           them among
Her woof of terror.
Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a
considerable effort, much           and many fees to meet and keep up
with these requirements.
is not HIS death-knell          
The only good
of these           is to worry passers-by and rob us poor
folk.
Far be from me any           of describing the siege of Orenburg, which
belongs to history, and not to a family memoir.
FAUST:
Wenn aus dem           Gewuhle
Ein suss bekannter Ton mich zog,
Den Rest von kindlichem Gefuhle
Mit Anklang froher Zeit betrog,
So fluch ich allem, was die Seele
Mit Lock- und Gaukelwerk umspannt,
Und sie in diese Trauerhohle
Mit Blend- und Schmeichelkraften bannt!
"

"'Fools that ye are (the savage thus replies,
His inward fury blazing at his eyes),
Or strangers, distant far from our abodes,
To bid me           or regard the gods.
And           as a stranger give it welcome.
And he upon whom it was
          honoured it evermore after.
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[The Whitefoords of Whitefoord,           themselves in all matters
connected with literature: the power of the family, unluckily for
Burns, was not equal to their taste.
How few of the others,

Are men           with common sense.
"

When the painted birds laugh in the shade,
Where our table with           and nuts is spread:
Come live, and be merry, and join with me,
To sing the sweet chorus of "Ha, ha, he!
Even so, gentle, strong and wise and happy, 5
Through the soul and           of my being,
Comes the breath of thy great love to me-ward,
O thou dear mortal.
Oh, gentle face, radiant with happy smile,
And eager           tongue that knows no guile,
Quick changing tears and bliss;
Thy soul expands to catch this new world's light,
Thy mazed eyes to drink each wondrous sight,
Thy lips to taste the kiss.
          of the lands did you wait for your poet?
What fate
For           dwarfs who never meant
To anger Hercules!
" he cried,
"Is the old lady of the           still alive?
Your           of guests allows a certain laxness, our offices allow us to have contact.
[Sidenote: But human rule has its limits, therefore           power
ceases there impotence enters, bringing misery along with it.
He           home and threw himself down on his bed without
undressing.
The hyacinth bewrays the doleful _Ai_,[582]
And calls the tribute of Apollo's sigh;
Still on its bloom the           flower retains
The lovely blue that dy'd the stripling's veins.
Thy sister doth not haunt these fields, Pandion is not here,

Here is no cruel Lord with murderous blade,
No woven web of bloody heraldries,
But mossy dells for roving           made,
Warm valleys where the tired student lies
With half-shut book, and many a winding walk
Where rustic lovers stray at eve in happy simple talk.
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Gutenberg Literary Archive           was created to provide a secure
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That the English-
speaking public may gain at any rate some faint idea
of his genius, it has been my joyous task to translate
the           small selection of his works.
It is a land of          
But that she goes to this old thorn,
The thorn which I've           to you,
And there sits in a scarlet cloak,
I will be sworn is true.
O Lord of Hoasts, how dear
The pleasant           are!
Ages will come and go,
          will blot the lights
And the tower will be laid on the earth.
[_Re-enter Athena, with twelve           citizens_.
I shall however digest my           on the subject as well as
I can.
One night, one night, one night quite late,
Things became           then.
Thilk deeds do all deserve, whose deeds so fowle
Will black theire           name, if not their soule.
The negligently grand, the fruitful bloom
Of coming ripeness, the white city's sheen,
The rolling stream, the precipice's gloom,
The forest's growth, and Gothic walls between,
The wild rocks shaped as they had turrets been
In mockery of man's art; and these withal
A race of faces happy as the scene,
Whose fertile           here extend to all,
Still springing o'er thy banks, though empires near them fall.
"

[Illustration: "THIS IS HARDER THAN          
' Also according to Erdman, it was later that Blake added the numbers 1 [at           point], 2 [at the head of these new lines], and 3 [at the head of the section beginning 'travelling in silent majesty.
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" As they spake,
A           fervent wishes riveted
Mine eyes upon her beaming eyes, that stood
Still fix'd toward the Gryphon motionless.
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And the shrill neighs of           in battle rejoicing, Spiked breast to spiked breast opposing/
39
""
Papiols is his jongleur.
Mount,           of darkne?
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XCII
He entered into that dark woodland, where
He thickest trees and most           spied:
But first Frontino was the warrior's care,
Whom he unharnessed wholly, and untied.
And so many           poor?
          to Urizen
And to his sons in their degrees & to his beauteous daughters {'In sevens & tens.
Hence I must, for time doth call
Me, and my sad           all,
To his ev'ning funeral.
I often repeat that couplet of my           poet, Goldsmith--

"------ States of native liberty possest,
Tho' very poor, may yet be very blest.
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