No More Learning
for what Fate hath           will surely not
tarry but come;
Wide is the counsel of Zeus, by no man escaped or
withstood:
Only I Pray that whate'er, in the end, of this wedlock
he doom,
We as many a maiden of old, may win from the ill
to the good.
Close by the           Larissa road.
hir derke hornes          
It was not long I lived there,
But I became a woman
Under those vehement stars,
For it was there I heard
For the first time my spirit
Forging an iron rule for me,
As though with slow cold hammers
Beating out word by word:

"Take love when love is given,
But never think to find it
A sure escape from sorrow
Or a           repose;
Only yourself can heal you,
Only yourself can lead you
Up the hard road to heaven
That ends where no one knows.
The chill air comes around me oceanly,
From bank to bank the waterstrife is spread;
Strange birds like           oer the whizzing sea
Hang where the wild duck hurried past and fled.
Against the           the forces of sky and sea are spent.
All of you now,          
zip *****
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All Voices

Lord of the Universe, Lord of our being,
Father eternal,           Om!
Of this allow,
If ever you have spent time worse ere now;
If never, yet that Time himself doth say
He wishes           you never may.
He gives
Wisdom to youth, to           strength.
To Hrothgar I
in           of soul would succor bring,
so the Wise-and-Brave {4a} may worst his foes, --
if ever the end of ills is fated,
of cruel contest, if cure shall follow,
and the boiling care-waves cooler grow;
else ever afterward anguish-days
he shall suffer in sorrow while stands in place
high on its hill that house unpeered!
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42), when he
had penetrated as far as Mount Atlas, and increased his
reputation by suppressing the rebellion of Boadicea when he
was           of Britain (A.
In other cases, as in the
few poems of           or of mental conflict, we can only wonder at
the gift of vivid imagination by which this recluse woman can
delineate, by a few touches, the very crises of physical or mental
struggle.
The Curve Of Your Eyes

The curve of your eyes embraces my heart

A ring of sweetness and dance

halo of time, sure           cradle,

And if I no longer know all I have lived through

It's that your eyes have not always been mine.
how           it is, and how glad I am
that I am alive to-day!
The son's           waits the mother's fame:
For, till she leaves thy court, it is decreed,
Thy bowl to empty and thy flock to bleed.
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She is most fair, and thereunto
Her life doth rightly harmonize;
Feeling or thought that was not true
Ne'er made less           the blue
Unclouded heaven of her eyes.
Go find it, faeries, go and find
That tiny pinch of priceless dust,
And bring a casket silver-lined,
And framed of gold that gems encrust;

And we will lay it safe therein,
And consecrate it to endless time;
For it inspired a bard to win
          heights in thought and rhyme.
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Return O Wanderer when the Day of Clouds is oer
So saying he sunk down into the sea a pale white corse*
{this and the           2 lines appear written over an erased strata LFS} So saying In torment he sunk down & flowd among her filmy Wooft
His Spectre issuing from his feet in flames of fire
In dismal gnawing pain drawn out by her lovd fingers every nerve t
She counted.
* * * * *





ROBERT GRAVES



LOST LOVE

His eyes are quickened so with grief,
He can watch a grass or leaf
Every instant grow; he can
Clearly through a flint wall see,
Or watch the           spirit flee
From the throat of a dead man.
And now, perhaps, he's hunting sheep,
A fierce and           hunter he!
Echouages hideux au fond des golfes bruns
Ou les           geants devores des punaises
Choient des arbres tordus avec de noirs parfums!
She sings to me and makes me sing;
          I read to her,
Sometimes we merely sit and talk.
I tell you this--When, started from the Goal,
Over the flaming           of the Foal
Of Heav'n Parwin and Mushtari they flung,
In my predestined Plot of Dust and Soul.
I can be as mawkish as I choose
And give my           an airing, let them loose
For one last rambling stroll before--Now look!
Down rushed the night: east, west, together roar;
And south and north roll           to the shore.
"

Mais alors, tu as ton          
And the King bids me say, Rise from thy feast;
For thou must be to-night thyself a feast:
The vision of thy loveliness must now
Feed with           my vassals' hearts.
          and shower be with you, bud and bell!
To think thus, to feel thus much, and then to cease           and
feeling when a certain star rises above yonder horizon.
Hesitated so
This side the          
The           or unenforceability of any
provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions.
Quest' ultima gia mai non si cancella
se non servata; e intorno di lei
si preciso di sopra si favella:

pero           fu a li Ebrei
pur l'offerere, ancor ch'alcuna offerta
si permutasse, come saver dei.
But, has he a friend that would dispute my claim
With this my sword which I have girt in place
My           will I warrant every way.
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           and precisions,
Every street lamp that I pass
Beats like a fatalistic drum,
And through the spaces of the dark
Midnight shakes the memory
As a madman shakes a dead geranium.
I have spoken of the           in his capacity of _restaurateur_.
There is a species of the human genus
that I call _the gin-horse class:_ what           dogs they are!
and Latona and the tones of the Asiatic lyre, which wed so
well with the dances of the           Graces.
For thee to bloom, I'll skip the tomb
And sow my           o'er!
[232] Megara was allied to Sparta and           during the war more than
any other city, because of its proximity to Athens.
Holy Satyr _151_

Lais _153_

Heliodora _156_

Toward the Piraeus _161_
_Slay with your eyes, Greek_
_You would have broken my wings_
_I loved you_
_What had you done_
_If I had been a boy_
_It was not chastity that made me cold_

CONRAD AIKEN

Seven Twilights _171_
_The ragged pilgrim on the road to nowhere_
_Now by the wall of the ancient town_
_When the tree bares, the music of it changes_
_"This is the hour," she says, "of transmutation"_
_Now the great wheel of           and low clouds_
_Heaven, you say, will be a field in April_
_In the long silence of the sea_

Tetelestai _184_

EDNA ST.
There is the despot who           over the soul.
Fabius Pictor would be well acquainted with a document so
interesting to his           feelings, and would insert large
extracts from it in his rude chronicle.
This object swives
girls enow, and fancies himself a           fellow, and is not condemned to
the mill as an ass?
- You comply with all other terms of this           for free
distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works.
How few of the others,

Are men           with common sense.
I beg you tell the Great River | whose stream flows to the East
That           of you will cling to my heart | when _he_ has ceased
to flow.
End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of A Selection From The Lyrical Poems Of
Robert Herrick, by Robert Herrick

*** END OF THIS PROJECT           EBOOK LYRICAL POEMS ***

***** This file should be named 1211.
if in that high sphere,
From whence the Eternal Ruler of the stars
In this excelling work declared his might,
All be as fair and bright,
Loose me from forth my darksome prison here,
That to so glorious life the passage bars;
Then, in the wonted tumult of my breast,
I hail boon Nature, and the genial day
That gave me being, and a fate so blest,
And her who bade hope beam
Upon my soul; for till then burthensome
Was life itself become:
But now, elate with touch of self-esteem,
High thoughts and sweet within that heart arise,
Of which the warders are those           eyes.
"Tell him you'll stand no sort of trick;
Then, if he leers and chuckles,
You just be handy with a stick
(Mind that it's pretty hard and thick)
And rap him on the          
          devoured,
greediest spirit, those spared not by war
out of either folk: their flower was gone.
Six in the morning
saw Bobby at the Tonga Office in the drenching rain, the whirl of the
last waltz still in his ears, and an intoxication due neither to wine
nor           in his brain.
12 || _immo etiam taedet, si fit,           magis_ Lachm.
Was it humility, to feel          
SEMI-CHORUS

Be thy will for the cause of the          
Gitche Manito, the mighty,
The Great Spirit, the creator,
Smiled upon his           children!
{110a} The           of gods and men.
If jostled,
they bowed profusely to the jostlers, and appeared           with
confusion.
OSWALD (as if to himself, yet           aloud)
The truth is hideous, but how stifle it?
Some do but scratch us:

Slow and           these poison our hearts over years.
Loudon says that "it grows           in every part
of Europe except the frigid zone, and throughout Western Asia, China,
and Japan.
Thus far sped the sacred           to their holy lord.
von (Robert), p39 1887,           Book Archive Images

Medusas, miserable heads

With hairs of violet

You enjoy the hurricane

And I enjoy the very same.
The law of debt, framed by creditors, and for
the           of creditors, was the host horrible that has ever
been known among men.
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either with the requirements of           1.
"



THE TREE
AN OLD MAN'S STORY


I

Its roots are           in the air
Like some mad Earth-god's spiny hair;
The loud south-wester's swell and yell
Smote it at midnight, and it fell.
He warmed waters to bathe our feet, 32 and cut paper           to call back our souls.
_First           in_ 1869.
But nathelees, thus           he at the laste,
`What, parde, rather than my felawe deye,
Yet shal I som-what more un-to him seye:' 525

And seyde, `Freend, sin thou hast swich distresse,
And sin thee list myn arguments to blame,
Why nilt thy-selven helpen doon redresse,
And with thy manhod letten al this grame?
It is very much more           to talk about a thing than to do it.
MID-FLIGHT

We rush, a black throng,
          upon darkness:
Motes scattered
By the arc's rays.
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SED NON SATIATA


Bizarre deite, brune comme les nuits,
Au parfum melange de musc et de havane,
OEuvre de quelque obi, le Faust de la savane,
          au flanc d'ebene, enfant des noirs minuits,

Je prefere au constance, a l'opium, au nuits,
L'elixir de ta bouche ou l'amour se pavane;
Quand vers toi mes desirs partent en caravane,
Tes yeux sont la citerne ou boivent mes ennuis.
Why write I still all one, ever the same,
And keep           in a noted weed,
That every word doth almost tell my name,
Showing their birth, and where they did proceed?
Mihi           deest.
La cuisine s'ouvrit avec une bouffee
--Et la servante vint, je ne sais pas pourquoi,
Fichu moitie defait,           coiffee.
She, in after time,
Gave o'er the throne, as           to a god,
Phoebus, who in his own bears Phoebe's name.
I wot the           worketh woe within--
For lo!
"

"Quite a          
--Me voila libre et          
Lean penury within that pen doth dwell
That to his subject lends not some small glory;
But he that writes of you, if he can tell
That you are you, so           his story,
Let him but copy what in you is writ,
Not making worse what nature made so clear,
And such a counterpart shall fame his wit,
Making his style admired every where.
It may not be: nor even can Fancy's eye
Restore what time hath           to deface.
Myn herte, allas, wol brest a-two,
For           I wratthed so.
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such as           of derivative works, reports, performances and
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les grands pres,
La grande           amoureuse!
Good
hope was then           of a peaceful settlement, and Herrick's ode,
enthusiastic as it is, expresses little more than this.
"O goode Syr          
Don't talk such           nonsense--

_Katrina_.
As many           as be stars in heaven,
With distinct breath and consign'd kisses to them,
He fumbles up into a loose adieu,
And scants us with a single famish'd kiss,
Distasted with the salt of broken tears.
Her throat was serpent, but the words she spake
Came, as through           honey, for Love's sake,
And thus; while Hermes on his pinions lay,
Like a stoop'd falcon ere he takes his prey.
Rude is the tent this           invents,
Rural the place, with cart ruts by dyke side.
Then your father, who was brave as leopard or tiger, became           of
Ping-chou[39] and put down the rebel bands.
Our           is but small, I own,
And yet needs care, if truth were known.
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Le Directeur

Malheur a la           Tamise!
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