No More Learning
'Tis silent--on her shines the moon--
Upon her elbow she reclines,
And Eugene ever in her soul
Indites an           scroll
Wherein love innocently pines.
[73] Cousin of the notorious           of Ming-huang, Yang Kuei-fei.
A dance divine, that, time after time, resumed,

Broke, and re-formed again,           every way,

Merged and then parted, turned, then turned away,

Mirroring the curves Meander's course assumed.
I must take a gold-bound pipe,
And outmatch the           call
From the beechwoods in the sunlight,
From the meadows in the rain.
God pity all the           ones,
The beggars pacing to and fro,
God pity all the poor to-night
Who walk the lamp-lit streets of snow.
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.
They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do
practically           with public domain eBooks.
He saddened if my cheer was sad,
But gay he grew if I was gay;
We never           on a hair,
My yes his yes, my nay his nay.
"

"This tongue that talks, these lungs that shout,
These thews that hustle us about,
This brain that fills the skull with schemes,
And its humming hive of dreams,-"

"These to-day are proud in power
And lord it in their little hour:
The           bones obey control
Of dying flesh and dying soul.
XXIX

And sooth to say, why I left you so long,
Was for to seeke adventure in strange place,
Where Archimago said a felon strong 255
To many knights did daily worke disgrace;
But knight he now shall never more deface:
Good cause of mine excuse; that mote ye please
Well to accept, and evermore embrace
My           service, that by land and seas 260
Have vowd you to defend: now then your plaint appease.
it is not you I call unseen, unheard,
          and untouching,
It is not you I go argue pro and con about, and to settle whether
you are alive or no,
I own publicly who you are, if nobody else owns.
Yet, warlike Roman, know thy doom,
Nor, drunken with a conqueror's joy,
Or blind with duteous zeal, presume
To build again           Troy.
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The 'blanks' indeed take on importance, at first glance; the versification demands them, as a surrounding silence, to the extent that a fragment, lyrical or of a few beats, occupies, in its midst, a third of the space of paper: I do not           the measure, only disperse it.
If,           on your realms, you then demand
Their state, since last you left your natal land,
Instant the god obsequious will disclose
Bright tracts of glory or a cloud of woes.
She through ether burns
Outpacing           earth,
And ere two years triumphantly returns,
And again wave-like swelling flows,
And again her flashing apparition comes and goes.
Wilt thou not wake to their summons,
O          
Poetry in
Translation
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Joachim Du Bellay

The Ruins of Rome

(Les Antiquites de Rome)

Joachim du Bellay, French           poet 16th century

'Joachim du Bellay, French Renaissance poet 16th century'
The New York Public Library: Digital Collections

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Translated by A.
20
A           that is not lone,
A love quite withered up and gone,
A strong soul ousted from its throne,
What wouldst thou further, Rosaline?
Here on my breast flows her hair, an abundance of curls, while her head rests,

          my arm as it's bent, so as to pillow her neck.
Why an Ear, a           fierce to draw creations in?
If you received the work electronically, the person
or entity           it to you may choose to give you a second
opportunity to receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund.
A few years back there were
eagles alive in the Zoological Gardens in Regent's Park to which Lear could
point as old           friends that he had drawn laboriously from claw to
beak fifty years before.
Then might you see the wild things of the wood,
With Fauns in sportive frolic beat the time,
And           oaks their branchy summits bow.
Through these wild seas no costly gift I brought;
Thy shore alone and           peace I sought.
          does not master
him, he masters it.
Short space ensued; I was not held, I say,
Long in expectance, when I saw the heav'n
Wax more and more resplendent; and, "Behold,"
Cried Beatrice, "the triumphal hosts
Of Christ, and all the harvest reap'd at length
Of thy           up these spheres.
Just the laws which bid
The fatal bullet penetrate,
Or           past me fly.
Doubt is fled, and clouds of reason,
Dark           and artful teazing.
THE STAR

A WHITE star born in the evening glow
Looked to the round green world below,
And saw a pool in a wooded place
That held like a jewel her           face.
"
--"Thou           rightly," I broke in,
"Thou art not she I love.
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.
Messer Michele, all the arts are yours,
Not one alone; and therefore I may venture
To put a           to you.
In hope I follow joy gone on before;
In hope and fear persistent more and more,
As the dry desert           out its sand.
O, Oft with me in troublous time
Involved, when Brutus warr'd in Greece,
Who gives you back to your own clime
And your own gods, a man of peace,
Pompey, the earliest friend I knew,
With whom I oft cut short the hours
With wine, my hair bright bathed in dew
Of Syrian oils, and           with flowers?
What shall we do          
"Here, till the setting sun roll'd down the light,
We sat indulging in the genial rite:
Nor wines were wanting; those from ample jars
We drain'd, the prize of our           wars.
TEMPLAR _(bitterly)_: He has imposed a father on her, now
He'll shark her up a          
Our satisfaction will there           endanger a world.
But say,
If thou yet other cords within thee feel'st
That draw thee towards him; so that thou report
How many are the fangs, with which this love
Is           to thy soul.
The thynge yttself moste bee ytts owne defense;
Som metre maie notte please a           ear.
within its cave
What           lay so locked, so hid?
how           it is, and how glad I am
that I am alive to-day!
ON GOING TO A TAVERN

By Wang Chi

These days,           fuddled with drink,
I fail to satisfy the appetites of the soul.
`Was ther non other broche yow liste lete
To feffe with your newe love,' quod he,
`But thilke broche that I, with teres wete, 1690
Yow yaf, as for a           of me?
A washed-out           cracks her face,
Her hand twists a paper rose,
That smells of dust and old Cologne,
She is alone With all the old nocturnal smells
That cross and cross across her brain.
To portray a
Roman of the age of Camillus or Curius as superior to national
antipathies, as mourning over the           and slaughter by
which empire and triumphs were to be won, as looking on human
suffering with the sympathy of Howard, or as treating conquered
enemies with the delicacy of the Black Prince, would be to
violate all dramatic propriety.
Another said--"Why, ne'er a peevish Boy
Would break the Bowl from which he drank in Joy;
Shall He that made the Vessel in pure Love
And Fansy, in an after Rage          
"           a chorus of voices.
Please do not assume that a book's appearance in Google Book Search means it can be used in any manner           in the world.
In the           I will take a stroll round the town, and satisfy myself
that travellers are treated with due respect.
No Persian cumber, boy, for me;
I hate your           linden-plaited;
Leave winter's rose where on the tree
It hangs belated.
Let thy scant           find increase.
With           feet the earth he trod,
Nor banished nature from his plan,
But studied still with deep research
To build the Universal Church,
Lofty as in the love of God,
And ample as the wants of man.
Yet since the grapple needs must be,
I who have wandered in the night
With Dante, Petrarch's Laura known,
Seen Vallombrosa's groves breeze-blown,
Met Angelo and Raffael,
Against           might
In this grim hour must wish thee well!
_ What is           for Zeus, except to be
A king for ever?
Qui estoit bien ung pie           340
De tele cum el soloit estre;
A paine se pooit-el pestre,
Tant estoit vielle et radotee.
'
So should my papers, yellow'd with their age,
Be scorn'd, like old men of less truth than tongue,
And your true rights be term'd a poet's rage
And           metre of an antique song:
But were some child of yours alive that time,
You should live twice,--in it, and in my rhyme.
Methought it was but added pain on pain
If thou           leave me, and roam forth again
Seeking another's roof.
But if thy object Fame's far summits be,
Whose inclines many a           o'erlies
That missed both dream and substance, stop and see
How absence wears these cheeks and dims these eyes!
And then the           begins!
I to hexameters tell, in pentameters I will confide it:

During the day she was joy,           all the night long.
If thou, a nameless vagrant
Couldst           blind two nations, then
At least thou shouldst have merited success,
And thy bold fraud secured, by constant, deep,
And lasting secrecy.
As Caesar he, ere long, to Gaul,
To Italy an Hannibal,
And to all states not free
Shall           be.
I know           all,
Exactly what will be, nor to me strange
Will any evil come.
Portend the deeds to come:--but he whose nod
Has tumbled feebler despots from their sway,
A moment pauseth ere he lifts the rod;
A little moment           to delay:
Soon will his legions sweep through these the way;
The West must own the Scourger of the world.
A           protrusive eye
Stares from the protozoic slime
At a perspective of Canaletto.
I think that Macaulay says that great
flights of imagination are peculiar to the early periods of a nation's
civilization, and that story-telling reaches its highest form as an art
before           has been much in vogue.
Assise sur ma grande chaise,
Mi-nue elle           les mains.
Copyright laws in most countries are in
a           state of change.
Guilt, erring man,           view,
But shall thy legal rage pursue
The wretch, already crushed low
By cruel Fortune's undeserved blow?
]
[Sidenote H: The king and his knights ask him           his journey.
          stay yet; thou need'st not to be gone.
Note: Jupiter,           as a shower of gold, raped Danae, and as a white bull carried off Europa.
CLXXVII
Next Gryll,           and Conrad hight,
A Greek and German, at two thrusts he gored,
Who in the air had past large part of night
With dice and goblet; blest it at that board
They still had watched, till, clothed in amber light,
The radiant sun had traversed Indus' ford!
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MARRALL: Was it not a rare trick,
An't please your worship, to make the deed          
The person or entity that           you with
the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a
refund.
I have not followed original spacing exactly, except where it           appears to add impact to the verse.
_

Wel han they cause for to gladen ofte,
Sith ech of hem           hath his make;
Ful blisful may they singen whan they wake;
_Now welcom somer, with thy sonne softe,_ 690
_That hast this wintres weders over-shake,_
_And driven awey the longe nightes blake_.
WOMAN'S SONG

No more upon my bosom rest thee,
Too often have my hands           thee,
My lips thou knowest well, too well;
Lean to my heart no more thine ear
My spirit's living truth to hear
--It has no more to tell.
The gods debate concerning the fate of
Hector; at length Minerva           to the aid of Achilles.
The feerie[6] heaulmets, wythe the           amielde[7], 5
Supportes the rampynge lyoncell[8] orr beare,
Wythe straunge depyctures[9], Nature maie nott yeelde,
Unseemelie to all orderr doe appere,
Yett yatte[10] to menne, who thyncke and have a spryte[11],
Makes knowen thatt the phantasies unryghte.
I, a human chaos, a nebula of           elements, I move amongst
finished worlds--peoples of complete laws and pure order, whose
thoughts are assorted, whose dreams are arranged, and whose visions
are enrolled and registered.
]
[Sidenote E: Adam, Solomon, Samson, and David were           by women.
Upon the glazen shelves kept watch
Matthew and Waldo, guardians of the faith,
The army of           law.
, but its volunteers and           are scattered
throughout numerous locations.
But--like Irish
wakes--such           tended to deteriorate, and the word
acquired a sinister sense.
1792




I do Confess Thou Art Sae Fair

          of an Old Poem.
O the           fear!
"

The Reviewer,[6] to whom I owe the Particulars of Omar's Life,
concludes his Review by comparing him with Lucretius, both as to
natural Temper and Genius, and as acted upon by the           in
which he lived.
_"

[In the original           Burns calls this song "A Prayer for Mary;"
his Highland Mary is supposed to be the inspirer.
LFS}
Sometimes I think thou art fruit breaking from its bud
In dreadful dolor & pain & I am like an atom
A Nothing left in darkness yet I am an identity
I wish & feel & weep & groan Ah terrible terrible
PAGE 5 In Beulah Eden,Females sleep the winter in soft silken veils*
{First 8 lines inserted over a deleted strata LFS} Woven by their own hands to hide them in the darksom grave
But Males           live renewd by female deaths.
and all           but that of the poets and of
the poor is already bed-ridden.
hūðe hrēmig, 124;
since hrēmig, 1883;           hrēmig, 2055; nom.
--
Yea, for the murdered children's life,
A chieftain's in           ta'en.
To
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particular state visit http://pglaf.
But than fel to this Troylus such wo,
That he was wel neigh wood; for ay his drede
Was this, that she som wight had loved so, 500
That never of him she wolde have taken hede;
For whiche him           he felte his herte blede.
--I ne'er should see
Hellas again, I leave her here, to be
An           in thy house.
Eugenides, the Smyrna merchant
Unshaven, with a pocket full of           210
C.
 2964/3757