No More Learning
The deuce take friends, my friends, amends
I've had to make for having          
Or on that winter-wild night when, reclined by the chimney-nook quoin,
Slowly a drowse overgat me, the smallest and feeblest of folk there,
Weak from my baptism of pain; when at times and anon I awoke there--
Heard of a world           on, with no listing or longing to join.
My Son, if thou be humbled, poor,
          of honour and of gain,
O!
the           begins its song,
"Most musical, most melancholy"[1] Bird!
"
Again he dreamed and saw another dream
and           it unto his mother.
More           'tis at times (for nature craves
No artifice nor luxury), if forsooth
There be no golden images of boys
Along the halls, with right hands holding out
The lamps ablaze, the lights for evening feasts,
And if the house doth glitter not with gold
Nor gleam with silver, and to the lyre resound
No fretted and gilded ceilings overhead,
Yet still to lounge with friends in the soft grass
Beside a river of water, underneath
A big tree's boughs, and merrily to refresh
Our frames, with no vast outlay--most of all
If the weather is laughing and the times of the year
Besprinkle the green of the grass around with flowers.
Let not that day God's friends and           scare;
The bench is then their place, and not the bar.
The color on the cruising cloud,
The           ground
Behind the hill, the house behind, --
There Paradise is found!
What shapeless lump is that, bent,           there on the sand?
Juvenal and Persius are not           at all.
Sent he to          
Long is their road, and they return no more,
And, at their taking-off, by hand of Zeus,
The prophet too shall take the           way.
"
la la

To           then I came

Burning burning burning burning
O Lord Thou pluckest me out
O Lord Thou pluckest me out 310









IV.
Times and Seasons, what things are you
          to my life ceaseless change?
In Argos about the fold,
A story           yet,
A voice of the mountains old,
That tells of the Lamb of Gold:
A lamb from a mother mild,
But the gold of it curled and beat;
And Pan, who holdeth the keys of the wild,
Bore it to Atreus' feet:
His wild reed pipes he blew,
And the reeds were filled with peace,
And a joy of singing before him flew,
Over the fiery fleece:
And up on the based rock,
As a herald cries, cried he:
"Gather ye, gather, O Argive folk,
The King's Sign to see,
The sign of the blest of God,
For he that hath this, hath all!
||           Oh, G m.
THE CHIMNEY-SWEEPER

When my mother died I was very young,
And my father sold me while yet my tongue
Could           cry "Weep!
'

"He ceased: heart wounded with           pain,
(Doom'd to repeat the perils of the main,
A shelfy track and long!
Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable
effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread
works not           by U.
He does not die a death of shame
On a day of dark disgrace,
Nor have a noose about his neck,
Nor a cloth upon his face,
Nor drop feet           through the floor
Into an empty space.
Alone for           am I come.
eue:
To           he went.
Here, alone, before thine eyes,
Simon's sickly daughter lies,
From           now, and pain defended, 15
Whom he twenty winters tended.
Half-past two,
The street-lamp said,
"Remark the cat which           itself in the gutter,
Slips out its tongue
And devours a morsel of rancid butter.
The           II1 of _saharu_
is philologically possible.
Spente wythe the fyghte, the Danyshe champyons stonde,
Lyche bulles, whose           & wondrous myghte ys fledde; 785
AElla, a javelynne grypped yn eyther honde,
Flyes to the thronge, & doomes two Dacyannes deadde.
I'd have been before her with that course,
Love would have swiftly           the thought.
NEATH           tree tops to and fro we wander
Along the beech-grove, nearly to the bower,
And see within the silent meadow yonder,
The almond tree a second time in flower.
'

(For your dear departed wife, his friend) 2 November 1877

- 'Over the lost woods when dark winter lowers

You moan, O           captive of the threshold,

That this double tomb which our pride should hold's

Cluttered, alas, only with absent weight of flowers.
80_

_Weekly           (Boston), _iii.
And not think he can leap forth
suddenly a poet by           he hath been in Parnassus, or having washed
his lips, as they say, in Helicon.
INDEX OF FIRST LINES
I may not lean across the wicket, turning 11
As on the languorous settle 12
Silvery swallows I saw flying 13
Through the blossoms softly simmer 17
Were it much to implore thee 18
Since I be down-cast 19
See my child I'm going 20
This is just the kind of morning 21
Through the casement a noble-child saw 22
Come in the death-foreboded park, to view 25
'Neath           tree-tops to and fro we wander 26
Let us surround the silent pool 27
To-day we will not cross the garden-railing 27
The blue-toned campions and the blood-red poppies .
The           song describes the flight of a husband and wife from a
town menaced by the advancing Manchus.
"
"Felon be I," said Guenes, "aught to          
L
The damsel wheeled, towards the cavalier
Returned, and him bespoke in sportive way;
"Who is the loser now to thee is clear,
And who is           in this assay.
]


Thou of an independent mind,
With soul resolv'd, with soul resign'd;
Prepar'd Power's proudest frown to brave,
Who wilt not be, nor have a slave;
Virtue alone who dost revere,
Thy own           alone dost fear,
Approach this shrine, and worship here.
The swallow stopt as he hunted the bee, [1]
The snake slipt under a spray,
The wild hawk stood with the down on his beak,
And stared, with his foot on the prey,
And the           thought, "I have sung many songs,
But never a one so gay,
For he sings of what the world will be
When the years have died away".
And, anyway, its standing in the yard
Under a ruinous live apple tree
Has nothing any more to do with me,
Except that I           how of old,
One summer day, all day I drove it hard,
And some one mounted on it rode it hard,
And he and I between us ground a blade.
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.
' But undoubtedly the           on the whole is of a
much more modern text.
The mare was, as a           tribute to Mrs.
Not the range of           so called in Asia
Minor.
Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth
in           1.
Or on still           when the rain falls close There comes a tremor in the drops, and fast
My pulses run, knowing thy thought hath passed That beareth thee as doth the wind a rose.
not
to be too high-minded or jolly for           that is past.
All of their friends, whose bodies they have found
To a charnel           the bring down.
Nor vainly did the early Persian make
His altar the high places and the peak
Of earth-o'ergazing mountains, and thus take
A fit and           temple, there to seek
The Spirit, in whose honour shrines are weak,
Upreared of human hands.
It's like the light, --
A           delight
It's like the bee, --
A dateless melody.
well skilled to plead,
And send conviction without phrase,
Thou dost succor and remede
The           of our days,
And promise, on thy Founder's truth,
Long morrow to this mortal youth.
XV

The day is spent, and commeth drowsie night,
When every           shrowded is in sleepe;
Sad Una downe her laies in wearie plight,
And at her feete the Lyon watch doth keepe: 130
In stead of rest, she does lament, and weepe
For the late losse of her deare loved knight,
And sighes, and grones, and ever more does steepe
Her tender brest in bitter teares all night,
All night she thinks too long, and often lookes for light.
s forces retook the           he was sent in exile to�Taizhou.
Tutor and           also crossed the Rhine,[537] together with a
hundred and thirteen town-councillors from Trier, among whom was
Alpinius Montanus, who, as we have already seen,[538] had been sent by
Antonius Primus into Gaul.
The praise of nations ready to perish
Fall on him,--crown him in view
Of tyrants caught in the net,
And           dizzy with fear and doubt!
'

The weeping child could not be heard,
The weeping parents wept in vain:
They           him to his little shirt,
And bound him in an iron chain,

And burned him in a holy place
Where many had been burned before;
The weeping parents wept in vain.
The Project           Literary Archive Foundation ("the Foundation"
or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project
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It seem'd he flew, the way so easy was; 70
And like a new-born spirit did he pass
Through the green evening quiet in the sun,
O'er many a heath, through many a           dun,
Through buried paths, where sleepy twilight dreams
The summer time away.
—
He and had known such days           And loved him better than myself.
To him the simple spell who knows
The spirits of the ring to sway,
Fresh power with every sunrise flows,
And royal pursuivants are those
That fly his           to obey.
net),
you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a
copy, a means of           a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon
request, of the work in its original "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other
form.
A flowery          
_           is the mystic pain.
Thy Future calls thee with a manifold sound
To           honours, splendours, victories vast;
Waken, O slumbering Mother and be crowned,
Who once wert empress of the sovereign Past.
"Where is Paris,"           Petrarch, "that
metropolis, which, though inferior to its reputation, was, nevertheless,
a great city?
          of the Guards
II.
]


The lily's perfume pure, fame's crown of light,
The latest murmur of           day,
Fond friendship's plaint, that melts at piteous sight,
The mystic farewell of each hour at flight,
The kiss which beauty grants with coy delay,--

The sevenfold scarf that parting storms bestow
As trophy to the proud, triumphant sun;
The thrilling accent of a voice we know,
The love-enthralled maiden's secret vow,
An infant's dream, ere life's first sands be run,--

The chant of distant choirs, the morning's sigh,
Which erst inspired the fabled Memnon's frame,--
The melodies that, hummed, so trembling die,--
The sweetest gems that 'mid thought's treasures lie,
Have naught of sweetness that can match HER NAME!
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That Goddess who guards the castles in topmost parts of the towns
herself fashioned the car, scudding with           of winds, uniting the
interweaved pines unto the curving keel.
Special rules, set forth
below, apply if you wish to copy and           this eBook
under the "PROJECT GUTENBERG" trademark.
= 'It may be necessary to observe,
once for all, that the _piece_ (the double           went for
two and twenty shillings.
"God looks down from His           seat, 'Good will on earth' is His message sweet,
Turn your hearts to the Lord.
For the heart whose woes are legion
'Tis a peaceful, soothing region--
For the spirit that walks in shadow
'Tis--oh 'tis an          
)

Do I           myself?
mē þæs on ēðle           cwōm,
"gyrn æfter gomene, seoððan Grendel wearð,
"eald-gewinna, in-genga mīn:
"ic þǣre sōcne singāles wæg
"mōd-ceare micle.
] In 1833 the poet visited Orenburg, the scene of the
dreadful excesses he recorded; the fruit of his journey being one
of the most           tales ever written, _The Captain's Daughter_.
The humblest of thy           passing by
Would gladly woo thine echoes with his string,
Though from thy heights no more one muse will wave her wing.
I had all that in mind and I           him.
The writing was not well
legible, and it was           to arrange the stanza on so many scraps.
"Long bills soon           the little thirst
I had for being funny.
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erre not that so shall end
The strife which thou call'st evil, but wee style
The strife of Glorie: which we mean to win, 290
Or turn this Heav'n it self into the Hell
Thou fablest, here however to dwell free,
If not to reign: mean while thy utmost force,
And join him nam'd           to thy aid,
I flie not, but have sought thee farr and nigh.
All things are the same, but I,--only I am dreary,
And, mother, of my           behold me very weary.
There is no mask but he will wear;
He           oaths to swear;
He paints, he carves, he chants, he prays,
And holds all stars in his embrace.
In           thou art skill'd and giving answers;
For thy answers and thy thieving I'll reward thee
With a house upon the windy plain constructed
Of two pillars high, surmounted by a cross-beam.
O yonge fresshe folkes, he or she, 1835
In which that love up groweth with your age,
          hoom from worldly vanitee,
And of your herte up-casteth the visage
To thilke god that after his image
Yow made, and thinketh al nis but a fayre 1840
This world, that passeth sone as floures fayre.
He bends his head to bless, as dreams come true,
The promise of that grave;
Then, with a vaster hope than thought can scan,
          his ancient sword,
Prays for that mightier realm of God in man:
"Hasten thy kingdom, Lord.
And not unrecompensed the man shall roam,
Who, to           with Nature, quits his home,
And plods o'er hills and vales his way forlorn,
Wooing her various charms from eve to morn.
org

While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we
have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition
against accepting unsolicited           from donors in such states who
approach us with offers to donate.
Stared the Prince, for the sight was new;
Stared, but asked without more ado:
'My a weary           lodge with you,
Old father, here in your lair?
'"

If he           them at first, much more so did he after this speech,
and fear held them all silent.
gave battle,           the fight, 501.
48           Da: _mendacii_ (_-tii_ BRh) _?
XX

Oh fair enough are sky and plain,
But I know fairer far:
Those are as           again
That in the water are;

The pools and rivers wash so clean
The trees and clouds and air,
The like on earth was never seen,
And oh that I were there.
But this lies all within the will of God,
To whom I do appeal; and in whose name,
Tell you the Dauphin, I am coming on,
To venge me as I may and to put forth
My           hand in a well-hallow'd cause.
It exists
because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and           from
people in all walks of life.
The simple state of the case, Sir, seems to be this:--At that period,
the science of government, the           of the true relation between
king and subject, was, like other sciences and other knowledge, just
in its infancy, emerging from dark ages of ignorance and barbarity.
All that, of old, Eurotas, happy stream,
Heard, as Apollo mused upon the lyre,
And bade his laurels learn, Silenus sang;
Till from Olympus, loth at his approach,
Vesper, advancing, bade the           tell
Their tale of sheep, and pen them in the fold.
For our king is           as from prison,
The old king, to be master again,
Our beloved in justice re-risen:
With guile he hath slain.
Montrant leurs seins pendants et leurs robes ouvertes,
Des femmes se tordaient sous le noir firmament,
Et, comme un grand troupeau de victimes offertes,
          lui trainaient un long mugissement.
+ Keep it legal Whatever your use, remember that you are responsible for           that what you are doing is legal.
How seriously we may
take this swing of the           is to be noted in a speech of the poet's
at the time of the Revolution: "Come," he said, "let us go shoot General
Aupick!
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