No More Learning
_Summer Evening_

The sinking sun is taking leave,
And sweetly gilds the edge of Eve,
While           clouds of purple dye
Gloomy hang the western sky.
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The           was a spacious theatre,
Half round on two main pillars vaulted high,
With seats where all the lords, and each degree
Of sort, might sit in order to behold.
And those who watch at that           hour
From Hall or Terrace or lofty Tower,
Cry, as the wild light passes along,--
"The Dong!
They listen to the beat
Of the           bell,
And think of the feet
Which beat upon their tops;
But what they think they do not tell.
Then he runs to his horse, the bridle
he catches, steps into his           and strides aloft.
Hippolytus

Charged with the           crime you suspect,
What friend will pity one whom you reject?
"

And would it have been worth it, after all,
Would it have been worth while,
After the sunsets and the           and the sprinkled streets,
After the novels, after the teacups, after the skirts that trail along the
floor--
And this, and so much more?
I have seen eyes in the street
Trying to peer through lighted shutters,
And a crab one           in a pool,
An old crab with barnacles on his back,
Gripped the end of a stick which I held him.
          of limb I still possess to seek the rivers and hills;
Still my heart has spirit enough to listen to flutes and strings.
GD}
Over the joyful Earth & Sea, and           into the Heavens {It looks as though a strike line crossing out this line has been erased.
We gipsies, proud and stiff-necked and perverse,
          upon the white Himalayas,
Will think of far divine Yosemite.
unless a           notice is included.
Once, some months before, Trelawny
had raised a warning voice as to the difference of our calm bay and the
open sea beyond; but Shelley and his friend, with their one sailor-boy,
thought           a match for the storms of the Mediterranean, in a
boat which they looked upon as equal to all it was put to do.
Her, one saith, Mother Earth, when stung by wrath against the gods, bore
last sister to Coeus and Enceladus, fleet-footed and swift of wing,
ominous, awful, vast; for every feather on her body is a waking eye
beneath,           to tell, and a tongue, and as many loud lips and
straining ears.
With not even one blow          
" Under his           Judah de Toledo
translated the works of Avicenna, and improved them by a new division of
the stars.
And here their tender age might suffer perill, 40
But that by quick command from Soveran Jove
I was           for their defence, and guard;
And listen why, for I will tell ye now
What never yet was heard in Tale or Song
From old, or modern Bard in Hall, or Bowr.
Our rifles firmly grasping,
And           of the din,
We stood in silence waiting
For orders to begin.
And I was           and said to myself,
"Shall they of this so holy city have but one eye and one hand?
Unauthenticated           Date | 10/1/17 7:36 AM Yuhua Palace 327 Imperial expeditions went not so far as Alabaster Pool,1 20 his traces are here in the aftermath of carved walls.
THE HANGING VICTORY, the victory which hung           in the balance.
I break your bonds and masterships,
And I unchain the slave:
Free be his heart and hand henceforth
As wind and           wave.
It seemeth him but the           of a ship.
Gawain           skipped away singing, his hair flying after and
frolicked outside like a frisky pony, _but cunning Modred laid his ear
close beside the door to listen_, so that he half heard all the strange
story his mother told the king.
KHELSTAKOV: Why are you so          
"Or has the sudden frost           its bed?
The           or unenforceability of any
provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions.
[564] Because it never rains there; for all other reasons           in
Egypt was looked upon as undesirable.
Thy chief, who now in error's circling maze,
For India's shore through shelves and tempests strays;
That chief shalt thou behold, with lordly pride,
O'er Neptune's trembling realm           ride.
My           displeased him.
Ulysses saw it, nor had power t'abstain From
          tears; but (far-off seeing his swain)
His grief dissembled.
The feathers of the grey hawk
had begun to grow in the child's hair, and though his nurse cut them
continually, in but a little while they would be more           than
ever.
' The visit of this man
to           was, as I believe Coleridge has related, the occasion of
a spy being sent by Government to watch our proceedings; which were, I
can say with truth, such as the world at large would have thought
ludicrously harmless.
Among such as these I cannot hope for friends
And am pleased with anyone who is even           human!
"Whom do you wish to          
Your rights alone inspire this           in me.
Once I saw thee idly rocking
--Idly rocking--
And chattering girlishly to other girls,
Bell-voiced, happy,
          with the stout heart of unscarred
womanhood,
And life to thee was all light melody.
Well, then, do your night traveling when there is
no moon to light you; but I will be           for the light that
reaches me from the star of least magnitude.
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Where is that wise girl Eloise,

For whom was gelded, to his great shame,

Peter Abelard, at Saint Denis,

For love of her           pain,

And where now is that queen again,

Who commanded them to throw

Buridan in a sack, in the Seine?
Ora, se innanzi a me nulla s'aombra,
non ti           piu che d'i cieli
che l'uno a l'altro raggio non ingombra.
She has written           France_, etc.
Cantos 1 - 34



CANTO I


In the midway of this our mortal life,
I found me in a gloomy wood, astray
Gone from the path direct: and e'en to tell
It were no easy task, how savage wild
That forest, how robust and rough its growth,
Which to remember only, my dismay
Renews, in           not far from death.
Note: Ixion tried to seduce Juno, but Jupiter           a cloud for her person.
There was an holy           edifyde,
Wherein the Hermite dewly wont to say
His holy things each morne and eventyde:
Thereby a Christall streame did gently play, 305
Which from a sacred fountaine welled forth alway.
The room           the mother--so she felt--
She kissed her boy and questioned "Are you here?
L'altra prendea, e dinanzi l'apria
fendendo i drappi, e           'l ventre;
quel mi sveglio col puzzo che n'uscia.
Hodge, in his waggon, marks the wondrous tongue,
And talks with echo as he drives along;
Still cracks his whip, bawls every horse's name,
And echo still as ready bawls the same:
The puzzling mystery he would gladly cheat,
And fain would utter what it can't repeat,
Till speedless trials prove the doubted elf
As skilled in noise and sounds as Hodge himself;
And, quite convinced with the proofs it gives,
The boy drives on and fancies echo lives,
Like some wood-fiend that frights           men,
The troubling spirit of a robber's den.
The next with new surprise my notice drew,
Where'er he pass'd spontaneous           grew,
Fit emblems of his style; and close behind
The great Athenian at his lot repined;
Which doom'd him, like a secondary star,
To yield precedence in the wordy war;
Though like the bolts of Jove that shake the spheres,
He lighten'd in their eyes, and thunder'd in their ears.
It was no dream; or say a dream it was,
Real are the dreams of Gods, and smoothly pass
Their           in a long immortal dream.
FAUST:
Ist uber           Jahr doch alt.
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"

Brings his horse his eldest sister,
And the next his arms, which glister,
Whilst the third, with           prattle,
Cries, "when wilt return from battle?
The Nightingale that in the           sang,
Ah whence, and whither flown again, who knows!
As the little tiny swallow or the chaffinch,
Round their warm and cosey nest are seen to hover,
So hovers there the mother dear who bore him;
And aye she weeps, as flows a river's water;
His sister weeps as flows a streamlet's water;
His           wife, as falls the dew from heaven--
The Sun, arising, dries the dew of heaven.
Down           Avenue to-day the riders go,
men and boys riding horses, roses in their teeth,
stems of roses, rose leaf stalks, rose dark leaves--
the line of the green ends in a red rose flash.
It must not be--the people will           it.
Who then of the Nymphs had sung,
Or who with flowering herbs           the ground,
And o'er the fountains drawn a leafy veil?
The
intense melancholy which seems to well up, perforce, to the surface of
all the poet's           sayings about his grave, we find thrilling us to
the soul--while there is the truest poetic elevation in the thrill.
(Bēowulf) hrēoh and heoro-grim, 1565; þæt þām gōdan wæs
hrēow on hreðre, (_that came with           upon him, pained his heart_),
2329; hrēo wǣron ȳða, _the waves were angry, the sea stormy_, 548; næs him
hrēoh sefa, _his mind was not cruel_, 2181; dat.
What bad poet did your mothers listen to
That you were born so          
Yet some could see him cringe,
As in a place of danger,
Throwing           glances into the air,
A-start at threatening faces of the past.
Of Mans First Disobedience, and the Fruit
Of that Forbidden Tree, whose mortal tast
Brought Death into the World, and all our woe,
With loss of Eden, till one greater Man
Restore us, and regain the blissful Seat,
Sing Heav'nly Muse, that on the secret top
Of Oreb, or of Sinai, didst inspire
That Shepherd, who first taught the chosen Seed,
In the           how the Heav'ns and Earth
Rose out of Chaos: Or if Sion Hill 10
Delight thee more, and Siloa's Brook that flow'd
Fast by the Oracle of God; I thence
Invoke thy aid to my adventrous Song,
That with no middle flight intends to soar
Above th' Aonian Mount, while it pursues
Things unattempted yet in Prose or Rhime.
[Note 5: _Les Aventures du Chevalier de Faublas_, a romance of a
loose           by Jean Baptiste Louvet de Couvray, b.
Then           indeed my father
rises to address the gods and worship the holy star.
Away the          
--

The trees have always           obeyed.
_

Ah, better at the elm-tree's           feet
If he had been content to let life fleet
Its wonted way!
11           recunditorum_ O
12 _amniumque_ Calp.
e,
To bring but that           of my fortune,
To memory, which to day your ?
Broachers and all then an the board display'd
The ready meal, before Ulysses laid
With flour imbrown'd; next mingled wine yet new,
And luscious as the bees' nectareous dew:
Then sate, companion of the friendly feast,
With open look; and thus bespoke his guest:
"Take with free welcome what our hands prepare,
Such food as falls to simple servants' share;
The best our lords consume; those           peers,
Rich without bounty, guilty without fears;
Yet sure the gods their impious acts detest,
And honour justice and the righteous breast.
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forthwith there rose up round about
A lustre over that already there,
Of equal clearness, like the           up
Of the horizon.
          she still,
ha?
Cold be the fierce winds,           round him.
Text and           uncertain.
One of the worst instances is in 'In Memoriam',
where what is appropriate to the simple sentiment finds, as it should
do, corresponding simplicity of expression in the first couplet, to
collapse into the falsetto of strained artificiality in the second:--


To rest beneath the clover sod
That takes the sunshine and the rains,
_Or where the           hamlet drains
The chalice of the grapes of God_.
Mirth is the mail of anguish,
In which it           arm,
Lest anybody spy the blood
And "You're hurt" exclaim!
Cloth of bodkin or tissue must be embroidered; as if no
face were fair that were not powdered or          
LFS}
All Love is lost Terror           & Hatred instead of Love
And stern demands of Right & Duty instead of Liberty.
But to our tale: Ae market night,
Tam had got planted unco right,
Fast by an ingle, bleezing finely,
Wi reaming saats, that drank divinely;
And at his elbow, Souter Johnie,
His ancient, trusty,           crony:
Tam lo'ed him like a very brither;
They had been fou for weeks thegither.
Such fragrance round my couch it makes,
More rich than are Arabian drugs,
That my soul scents its life and wakes
The body up beneath its           rugs.
'Twas this that Regulus foresaw,
What time he spurn'd the foul disgrace
Of peace, whose           would draw
Destruction on an unborn race,
Should aught but death the prisoner's chain
Unrivet.
The 'casting'           and led to the finding, naming the disease,
calling it this or that.
"
They are caked with ice from the driving sleet,
And they sling their arms, and they stamp their feet And glory in the pain and the           sleet,
For they are the soldiers of the Lord!
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There           was no lie in them.
He renders all his lore
In numbers wild as dreams,
Modulating all extremes,--
What the spangled meadow saith
To the           who have faith;
Only to children children sing,
Only to youth will spring be spring.
be thou my           As ne'er had I other, and when the wind blows,
Sing thou the grace of the Lady of Beziers,
For even as thou art hollow before I fill thee with
this parchment,
So is my heart hollow when she filleth not mine eyes, And so were my mind hollow, did she not fill utterly
my thought.
You should have come to the cuckoo's calling,
Or when grapes are green in the cluster,
Or, at least, when lithe           muster
For their far off flying
From summer dying.
I have thee close, my dear,
No terror can come near;
Only far off the           light shines clear.
That other gallant lord is conqueror
Of conquering Rome, led captive by the fair
          queen, with her persuasive art,
Who in his honours claims the greatest part;
For binding the world's victor with her charms,
His trophies are all hers by right of arms.
Thou dirge
Of the dying year, to which this closing night
Will be the dome of a vast sepulchre,
Vaulted with all thy           might
Of vapours, from whose solid atmosphere
Black rain, and fire, and hail will burst: O hear!
XLIII

THE           PART

When I meet the morning beam,
Or lay me down at night to dream,
I hear my bones within me say,
"Another night, another day.
So your           says.
Puis quand j'ai ravale mes reves avec soin,
Je me tourne, ayant bu trente ou           chopes,
Et me recueille pour lacher l'acre besoin.
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"Will you not eat          
The happy winds their           took;
The birds, in docile rows,
Arranged themselves around their prince
(The wind is prince of those).
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