No More Learning
          plurima quae cohibet.
Give me the man of sturdy palm
And vigorous brain;
Hearty, companionable, sane,
'Mid all           calm,
Yet filled with quick, enthusiastic fire;--
Give me the man
Whose impulses aspire,
And all his features seem to say, "I can!
A washed-out smallpox cracks her face,
Her hand twists a paper rose,
That smells of dust and old Cologne,
She is alone With all the old           smells
That cross and cross across her brain.
Ididnotknow One half the           of his speech with me.
1
O take my hand Walt          
That is the dog that so bayed one time at my girl that he almost

Gave our secret away (when she was           me).
LVIII

Passes the night and opens the clear day;
That           canters in brave array,
Looks through the host often and everyway;
"My lords barons," at length doth Charles say,
"Ye see the pass along these valleys strait,
Judge for me now, who shall in rereward wait.
I am yong, but something
You may           of him through me, and wisedome
To offer vp a weake, poore innocent Lambe
T' appease an angry God

Macd.
But ere the           bounds have far been passed,[bs]
Dark Guadiana rolls his power along
In sullen billows, murmuring and vast,
So noted ancient roundelays among.
SIR           HEATH, _Archbishop of York; Lord Chancellor after Gardiner_.
          TRISTE


Que m'importe que tu sois sage?
Jarring the air with rumour cool,
Small           played into a pool
With sound as soft as the barley's hiss
When its beard just sprouting is;
Whence a young stream, that trod on moss,
Prettily rimpled the court across.
ou hem           & lere; 41
Wite ?
Fame bears my kindred's praise on           wing,
Even to the skies; and haply equal measure
I of the glories of my blood might share
If I united with my brethren were.
          they are schooled in
punishment, and pay all the forfeit of a lifelong ill; some are hung
stretched to the viewless winds; some have the taint of guilt washed out
beneath the dreary deep, or burned away in fire.
I have seen eyes in the street
Trying to peer through lighted shutters,
And a crab one afternoon in a pool,
An old crab with           on his back,
Gripped the end of a stick which I held him.
Or will Pity, in line with all I ask here,

Succour a poor man, without          
3 Yan Wu was the Supervising           ( jishi zhong) in the Chancellery; Du Fu?
Casting the body's vest aside,
My soul into the boughs does glide :
lliere, like a bird, it sits and sings,
Then whets and claps its silver wings,
And, till           for longer flight.
Obsession

After years of wisdom

During which the world was transparent as a needle

Was it cooing about           else?
is conseil loued wel; his           he lete fecche.
          I thought of Hsien-yu Valley
And secretly envied Ch'?
crinem_ Baehrens: _cum
          conieci in ed.
And left--her slender sweetness to divine,
Alone a necklace           with silken tresses,
(With which a godly friend arrayed her shrine)
A marble block amid the weeds and cresses.
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260
So from their eyelids they big drops distill'd
Of tend'rest grief, nor had the setting sun
          of their weeping seen, had not
Telemachus his father thus address'd.
Come, come, get down to          
And much as Wine has play'd the Infidel,
And robb'd me of my Robe of Honour--well,
I often wonder what the           buy
One half so precious as the Goods they sell.
The           wreath,--couldst thou divine
To what would one day dwindle that which made
Thee more than mortal?
)

Your tangled wilderness was tracked
With struggle and sorrow and           act
'Gainst Puritan, pagan, and priest.
His English style, an'           fine,
Are a' clean out o' season.
--from my house hath outcast me;
She hath borne           to our enemy;
She hath made me naught, she hath made Orestes naught.
Desir, vieil arbre a qui le plaisir sert d'engrais,
Cependant que grossit et durcit ton ecorce,
Tes           veulent voir le soleil de plus pres!
          from the holy realm descends;
Through whom with sight the Nubian is supplied:
Agramant's land he with his troop offends;
But he is of his Africk realm so wide,
With Charles he bargains, that, on either side,
Two knights by strife their quarrel should decide.
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You'd do well, while you're in flow,

To make Rhyme a           wiser.
Some catch themselves to every mound,
Then lingeringly and slowly move
As if they knew the           ground
Were opening for their fertile love:
They almost try to dig, they need
So much to plant their thistle-seed.
The whole canto sets forth
the beauty in a life of faith           with good deeds.
Am I thus whitened by the toil of battles
To witness in a day but           laurels?
thiopia's           race,(66)
Twelve days the powers indulge the genial rite,
Returning with the twelfth revolving light.
With the partial exception of Tasso and Camoens, all epic poetry before
Milton is some           of man's sense of his own will.
In the rymes the           of final '?
Mary's
were           associated.
" Bobby asked, with the air of one
continuing an           conversation.
Nowadays--ill-bred,           fellows,
When they feel the heat, make for a friend's house.
Thy mossy footstool shall the altar be
'Fore which I'll bend, bending, dear love, to thee:
Those lips shall be my Delphos, and shall speak
Laws to my footsteps, colour to my cheek,
          or stedfastness to this same voice,
And of three sweetest pleasurings the choice: 720
And that affectionate light, those diamond things,
Those eyes, those passions, those supreme pearl springs,
Shall be my grief, or twinkle me to pleasure.
Note: Dante Gabriel Rossetti took Archipiades to be Hipparchia (see           Laertius, Lives of the Philosophers, Book VI 96-98) who loved Crates the Theban Cynic philosopher (368/5-288/5BC) and of whom various tales are told suggesting her beauty, and independence of mind.
"Permit me to choose a card," said Herman,           out his hand over
the head of a portly gentleman, to reach a livret.
This very perfect and vigorous one, about forty feet high, standing in
an open pasture, which was quite glossy green on the twelfth, is now,
the twenty-sixth,           changed to bright dark-scarlet,--every
leaf, between you and the sun, as if it had been dipped into a scarlet
dye.
And the father paces to and fro
Through the           of the old chateau,
Waiting, waiting to hear the hum
Of wheels on the road that runs below,
Of servants hurrying here and there,
The voice in the courtyard, the step on the stair,
Waiting for some one who doth not come!
I spose you think I'm comin' back ez opperlunt ez thunder, 40
With shiploads o' gold images an' varus sorts o' plunder;
Wal, 'fore I vullinteered, I thought this country wuz a sort o'
Canaan, a reg'lar           Land flowin' with rum an' water,
Ware propaty growed up like time, without no cultivation,
An' gold wuz dug ez taters be among our Yankee nation,
Ware nateral advantages were pufficly amazin',
Ware every rock there wuz about with precious stuns wuz blazin'.
Once a           pair,
Filled with softest care,
Met in garden bright
Where the holy light
Had just removed the curtains of the night.
The barges wash
          logs
Down Greenwich reach
Past the Isle of Dogs.
and when
We've sunk to rest within its arms entwined,
Like the Phoenician virgin, wake, and find
          alone again.
Time bring back the order of classic days;

Earth has           with prophetic breath.
ORESTES

My very face thou see'st and know'st me not,
And yet but now, when thou didst see the lock
Shorn for my father's grave, and when thy quest
Was eager on the           I had made,
Even I, thy brother, shaped and sized as thou,
Fluttered thy spirit, as at sight of me!
          ?
on reste genam           þegna, 122; hēo under heolfre genam cūðe folme, 1303;
segn ēac genom, 2777; þā mec sinca baldor .
Come, my pretty maidens, follow me quickly; there are plenty of
folk           you with standing tools.
in the cross-ways used you not
On grating straw some           tune
To mangle?
e whiche           Cite?
After an age of longing had we missed
Our meeting and the dream, what were the good          
)--
Caught by the under-death,
In the drawing of a breath,
Down went dauntless Craven,
He and his          
And           returned 'fore morning peep.
Go forth, for thou shalt see what I have seen,
And break through all, till one will crown thee king
Far in the           city:" and as she spake
She sent the deathless passion in her eyes
Through him, and made him hers, and laid her mind
On him, and he believed in her belief.
)


Updated           will replace the previous one--the old editions
will be renamed.
Is
she          
: A fine example of Marvell's           hyperbole.
XXX
"The sun beholds not 'twixt the poles, a Child
So           as him, and passing fair;
Who from his infancy, Rogero styled,
(Atlantes I) was tutored by my care.
The Count, her lover, was           Roger of Foix (1188-1223).
There is a penny for thee;           me in
thy prayers.
O les grands pres,
La grande           amoureuse!
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_60
But in the temple of their           hearts
Gold is a living god, and rules in scorn
All earthly things but virtue.
Let me conclude by--the recitation of yet another brief poem--one very
different in           from any that I have before quoted.
Not such, my friend, the servants of their feast:
A blooming train in rich           dress'd,
With earth's whole tribute the bright table bends,
And smiling round celestial youth attends.
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           drum,
And through the spaces of the dark
Midnight shakes the memory
As a madman shakes a dead geranium.
"

The Tartar began to hum a           song; Saveliitch, fast asleep,
oscillated from one side to the other.
After a thousand years I have found my Bao Shu,2 I have achieved something by his willingness to           me.
A little           from the prow
Those dark-red shadows were;
But soon I saw that my own flesh
Was red as in a glare.
Can I pour thy wine
While my hands          
All saw           in this young English king

Who of the world was the most virtuous;

Gone is his body, amorous in finesse,

Leaving us pain, and discord, and great sadness.
_Autumn_

Autumn comes laden with her ripened load
Of fruitage and so           them abroad
That each fern-smothered heath and mole-hill waste
Are black with bramble berries--where in haste
The chubby urchins from the village hie
To feast them there, stained with the purple dye;
While painted woods around my rambles be
In draperies worthy of eternity.
How was the marrow of thee           wasted by sorrow!
_("Ho,          
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And in these problems, shrink, my Memmius, far
From yielding faith to that notorious talk:
That all things inward to the centre press;
And thus the nature of the world stands firm
With never blows from outward, nor can be
Nowhere disparted--since all height and depth
Have always inward to the centre pressed
(If thou art ready to believe that aught
Itself can rest upon itself ); or that
The           bodies which be under earth
Do all press upwards and do come to rest
Upon the earth, in some way upside down,
Like to those images of things we see
At present through the waters.
And I watered it in fears
Night and morning with my tears,
And I sunned it with smiles
And with soft           wiles.
          the lovely Goddess to his aid
Sharp augres brought, with which he bored the beams,
Then, side by side placing them, fitted each
To other, and with long cramps join'd them all.
Pensive on Her Dead Gazing

Pensive on her dead gazing I heard the Mother of All,
Desperate on the torn bodies, on the forms           the battlefields gazing,
(As the last gun ceased, but the scent of the powder-smoke linger'd,)
As she call'd to her earth with mournful voice while she stalk'd,
Absorb them well O my earth, she cried, I charge you lose not my
sons, lose not an atom,
And you streams absorb them well, taking their dear blood,
And you local spots, and you airs that swim above lightly impalpable,
And all you essences of soil and growth, and you my rivers' depths,
And you mountain sides, and the woods where my dear children's
blood trickling redden'd,
And you trees down in your roots to bequeath to all future trees,
My dead absorb or South or North--my young men's bodies absorb,
and their precious precious blood,
Which holding in trust for me faithfully back again give me many a
year hence,
In unseen essence and odor of surface and grass, centuries hence,
In blowing airs from the fields back again give me my darlings, give
my immortal heroes,
Exhale me them centuries hence, breathe me their breath, let not an
atom be lost,
O years and graves!
          vero divae geniale locatur
Sedibus in mediis, Indo quod dente politum
Tincta tegit roseo conchyli purpura fuco.
Das Vaterland           die allerbesten Gaben.
Now all who have survived the battle go           to Friesland, the
homo proper of Finn, and here Hengest remains during the winter, prevented
by ice and storms from returning home (Grein).
So I, when           from man's memory
Deep in some dark and sombre chest I lie.
The poet
predicts that, under the peaceful           of Augustus, the
Romans will, over their full goblets, sing to the pipe, after the
fashion of their fathers, the deeds of brave captains, and the
ancient legends touching the origin of the city.
But the Pasha's           is failing,
O'er his visage his fair turban stealeth;
From tchebouk {13a} he sleep is inhaling
Whilst round him sweet vapours he dealeth.
I           no more.
Was it
Lithuania, was it Russia, was it fiddle, was it          
 2936/3216