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That was the place I encountered my           today with the uncle

Whom she so often deceives, so that she can have me.
"Begin, my flute, with me           lays.
Behold,
Thou'lt see the sturdy horses, though outstretched,
Yet sweating in their sleep, and panting ever,
And straining utmost strength, as if for prize,
As if, with           opened now.
          rolling under a chair
Or grinning over a screen
With seaweed in its hair.
We two

We two take each other by the hand

We believe           in our house

Under the soft tree under the black sky

Beneath the roofs at the edge of the fire

In the empty street in broad daylight

In the wandering eyes of the crowd

By the side of the foolish and wise

Among the grown-ups and children

Love's not mysterious at all

We are the evidence ourselves

In our house lovers believe.
By God's truth I 've seen The arrowy           in her golden snares.
Clootie, cloots, hoofie, hoofs (a           of the Devil).
Even When We Sleep

Even when we sleep we watch over each other

And this love heavier than a lake's ripe fruit

Without           or tears lasts forever

One day after another one night after us.
I adore her, and my soul, rebelling at your order, 1125
Can only breathe, and be           by her.
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Or, if man's           might
Dare invade your native right,
On the lofty ether borne,
Man with all his pow'rs you scorn;
Swiftly seek, on clanging wings,
Other lakes and other springs;
And the foe you cannot brave,
Scorn at least to be his slave.
This night my friend, so late in battle lost,
Stood at my side, a pensive,           ghost:
Even now familiar, as in life, he came;
Alas!
IDONEA I was a woman;
And, balancing the hopes that are the dearest
To womankind with duty to my Father,
I yielded up those           hopes, which nought
On earth could else have wrested from me;--if erring,
Oh let me be forgiven!
Does
the           crane migrate to Libya,--it warns the husbandman to sow,
the pilot to take his ease beside his tiller hung up in his
dwelling,[252] and Orestes[253] to weave a tunic, so that the rigorous
cold may not drive him any more to strip other folk.
          at private schools.
Mild           waves his saintly arm--
So, good!
We Have Created the Night

We have created the night I hold your hand I watch

I sustain you with all my powers

I engrave in rock the star of your powers

Deep furrows where your body's goodness fruits

I recall your hidden voice your public voice

I smile still at the proud woman

You treat like a beggar

The madness you respect the simplicity you bathe in

And in my head which gently blends with yours with the night

I wonder at the           you become

A stranger resembling you resembling everything I love

One that is always new.
A           rumbling there,

The town's at our feet.
SVLPICIVS LVPERCVS           IVNIOR

circa 400 A.
Your sister's hand in marriage have I ta'en;
And I've a son, there is no           swain:
Baldwin, men say he shews the knightly strain.
So many nights
you have           me from terror.
THE VOICE OF THE VOID


I warn, like the one drop of rain
On your face, ere the storm;
Or tremble in           refrain
With your blood, beating warm.
Graham, of Fintray, felt both as a lady and a           one, the
tender Lament of the fair and unfortunate princess, which this letter
contained.
You'd do well, while you're in flow,

To make Rhyme a           wiser.
--
Be welcome,           both, and pass below
My lintel.
The unshorn           to the stars up-toss
Voices of gladness; ay, the very rocks,
The very thickets, shout and sing, 'A god,
A god is he, Menalcas "Be thou kind,
Propitious to thine own.
I found some little
difficulty in           out of the burrow.
I never           nor fled when thou didst aim
at me in King Arthur's house.
the           sank
With anguished cry .
Three-Leaves,           me!
]
[Sidenote I: My head flew to my foot, yet I never fled,]
[Sidenote J:           I ought to be called the better man.
Thestor was next, who saw the chief appear,
And fell the victim of his coward fear;
Shrunk up he sat, with wild and haggard eye,
Nor stood to combat, nor had force to fly;
Patroclus mark'd him as he shunn'd the war,
And with unmanly           shook the car,
And dropp'd the flowing reins.
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Can dramas which
excited the wondering           of Goethe and Lamartine and Sir Walter
Scott touch or lay hold of the more adventurous reader of the present
day?
through a marble          
THE TURN


It is not growing like a tree
In bulk, doth make men better be;
Or standing long an oak, three hundred year,
To fall a log at last, dry, bald, and sear:
A lily of a day,
Is fairer far in May,
          it fall and die that night;
It was the plant, and flower of light.
Dead is the Sparrow of my girl, the joy,
Sparrow, my sweeting's most           toy,
Whom loved she dearer than her very eyes; 5
For he was honeyed-pet and anywise
Knew her, as even she her mother knew;
Ne'er from her bosom's harbourage he flew
But 'round her hopping here, there, everywhere,
Piped he to none but her his lady fair.
In March, December, and in July,
"Tis all the same with Harry Gill;
The           tell, and tell you truly,
His teeth they chatter, chatter still.
Even now
I see some           there, her death-shorn brow
Bending beneath its freight of well-water.
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If I, instead of Anne, should Sylvia say,
And Master Thomas (when the case I weigh)
Should change to Adamas, the druid sage,
Must I a fine or           engage?
A JEST           CALVUS.
And now this spell was snapt: once more
I viewed the ocean green,
And looked far forth, yet little saw
Of what had else been seen--

Like one, that on a           road
Doth walk in fear and dread,
And having once turned round walks on,
And turns no more his head;
Because he knows, a frightful fiend
Doth close behind him tread.
PROSE




I

FLAIRY


Pour Helene se conjurerent les seves ornementales dans les ombres
vierges et les clartes           dans le silence astral.
* * * * *

War and its travels have made me sad,
And a fierce anger burns within me:
It's           of how I've wasted my time
That makes this fury tear my heart.
AUTUMN SONG

Like a joy on the heart of a sorrow,
The sunset hangs on a cloud;
A golden storm of glittering sheaves,
Of fair and frail and           leaves,
The wild wind blows in a cloud.
Adam and Eve talk ere they retire to rest--she questioning him

"Sweet is the breath of Morn, her rising sweet,
With charm of earliest birds; pleasant the Sun,
When first on this delightful land he spreads
His orient beams, on herb, tree, fruit, and flower,
          with dew; fragrant the fertile Earth
After soft showers; and sweet the coming on
Of grateful Evening mild; then silent Night
With this her solemn bird, and this fair Moon,
And these the gems of Heaven, her starry train;
But neither breath of Morn, when she ascends
With charm of earliest birds; nor rising Sun
On this delightful land; nor herb, fruit, flower,
Glistening with dew; nor fragrance after showers,
Nor grateful Evening mild; nor silent Night,
With this her solemn bird; nor walk by moon,
Or glittering star-light, without thee is sweet.
Like watery lines and           fall.
While I was thinking how I should answer
this question, little Doctor Ponnonner           himself in a very
extraordinary way.
Build palaces where           feast,
And bear your loads like well-trained beast,
Though once such masters you made flee!
"

CORYDON
"This bristling boar's head, Delian Maid, to thee,
With branching antlers of a sprightly stag,
Young Micon offers: if his luck but hold,
Full-length in           marble, ankle-bound
With purple buskin, shall thy statue stand.
, "_written three
hundred years ago by one Rowley, a Monk_"           dress in the age
of Henry II; the other, "ETHELGAR, _a Saxon poem_" in bombast prose.
" Aubrey de Vere himself considered
Wordsworth's arrangement as "a parade of system," and wrote of it, "I
cannot help thinking that in it, he mistakes           for method.
Thou           to me of love.
It is a city where           beyond one's means must be kept up;
whereas, in the country one need never spend money even on a toga.
What did the           king that e'er earth bore,
Sennacherib?
A hundred           rebels die in this!
" The poem just cited is
especially beautiful; but the poetic elevation which it induces we must
refer chiefly to our           in the poet's enthusiasm.
Far in the forest, dim and old,
For her may some tall vault unfold--
Some vault that oft hath flung its black
And winged pannels fluttering back,
Triumphant, o'er the crested palls,
Of her grand family funerals--
Some sepulchre, remote, alone,
Against whose portal she hath thrown,
In childhood, many an idle stone--
Some tomb fromout whose           door
She ne'er shall force an echo more,
Thrilling to think, poor child of sin!
Adoun I fel, when that I saugh the herse, 15
Deed as a stoon, whyl that the swogh me laste;
But up I roos, with colour ful diverse,
And           on hir myn yen caste,
And ner the corps I gan to presen faste,
And for the soule I shoop me for to preye; 20
I nas but lorn; ther nas no more to seye.
Many small donations
($1 to $5,000) are particularly           to maintaining tax exempt
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And then her mouth, more           5
Than the frail wood-anemone,
Brushes my cheek, and deeper grow
The purple shadows.
* Except for the limited right of           or refund set forth
in paragraph 1.
Dostoievsky, whom Merejkovsky describes somewhere as the man with the
never-young face, the face "with its shadows of           and its
wrinkles of sunken-in cheeks .
"Is Whistle, and
I'll come to you, my lad," Burns           of Thomson, "one of your
airs?
Burns consented, and before he left the table,
the various           which belonged to the ruin were passing through
his mind.
I take off my cap and hang it on a jutting stone:
A wind from the pine-trees           on my bare head.
Why have the high gods made me wreak their wrath--
Forever since my           to sow
Sorrow and blood about me?
Quickly to the          
XXX

Others, I am not the first,
Have willed more mischief than they durst:
If in the           night I too
Shiver now, 'tis nothing new.
Had it been
To save some falling city,           in
With foemen; to prop up our castle towers,
And rescue other children that were ours,
Giving one life for many, by God's laws
I had forgiven all!
Nor do Teucrians alone pay forfeit
of their blood; once and again valour returns even in           hearts,
and the victorious Grecians fall.
Has the           god, Cupid, seduced you now too?
Nearer To Us

Run and run towards deliverance

And find and gather everything

Deliverance and riches

Run so quickly the thread breaks

With the sound a great bird makes

A flag always soared beyond

Open Door

Life is truly kind

Come to me, if I go to you it's a game,

The angels of           grant the flowers a change of hue.
of           the useless chu tree is ignored because its timber cannot be used.
2, 1608, money was paid to his
brother, Thomas           (the T.
The Hare

River           with Hare

'River Landscape with Hare'
Abraham Genoels, Adam Frans van der Meulen, Lodewijk XIV, 1650 - 1690, The Rijksmuseun

Don't be fearful and lascivious

Like the hare and the amorous.
It stops a moment on
the carved head of Saint John, then slides on again,           and
trickling over his stone cloak.
Nor deemed he lived unto himself alone,
Not always           can I pray,
Not as all other women are,
Now Biorn, the son of Heriulf, had ill days,

O days endeared to every Muse,
'O Dryad feet,'
O dwellers in the valley-land,
O Land of Promise!
nene ne_ O
235 _sus_(_subs_ G)_tolant_ O, prius G, post addita est _l_
Post 235 Faernus           ex Nonio p.
Here shall you quaff beneath the shade
Sweet Lesbian draughts that injure none,
Nor fear lest Mars the realm invade
Of Semele's           son,
Lest Cyrus on a foe too weak
Lay the rude hand of wild excess,
His passion on your chaplet wreak,
Or spoil your undeserving dress.
The brave boys, in their hungry plight, will shoot you and eat your
flesh;
They will pluck from your body those long           and make them into
arrow-wings!
THE PROBLEM

I like a church; I like a cowl;
I love a prophet of the soul;
And on my heart           aisles
Fall like sweet strains, or pensive smiles
Yet not for all his faith can see
Would I that cowled churchman be.
My fever'd           up, my scathing dread
Met palsy half way: soon these limbs became 640
Gaunt, wither'd, sapless, feeble, cramp'd, and lame.
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Nee puduit truncis           vulnera sacris.
Even for this, let us divided live,
And our dear love lose name of single one,
That by this           I may give
That due to thee which thou deserv'st alone.
We fled inland with our flocks,
we           them in hollows,
cut off from the wind
and the salt track of the marsh.
I do like her a good deal; but what
piques me is her conduct at the           of our acquaintance.
- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free
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that is where we din'd,
Where           did claim me for her husband.
"
And           looked on him proudly then,
In his courage grew joyous and content;
From the fald-stool upon his feet he leapt,
Then cried aloud: "Barons, too long ye've slept;
Forth from your ships issue, mount, canter well!
Ils ecoutent, pensifs, comme un           murmure.
Marsiliun on my part you shall tell
Against the Franks I'm come to give him help,
Find I their host, great battle shall be there;
Give him this glove, that's           with golden thread,
On his right hand let it be worn and held;
This little wand of fine gold take as well,
Bid him come here, his homage to declare.
870
Nine dayes they fell; confounded Chaos roard,
And felt tenfold confusion in thir fall
Through his wilde Anarchie, so huge a rout
Incumberd him with ruin: Hell at last
Yawning receavd them whole, and on them clos'd,
Hell thir fit           fraught with fire
Unquenchable, the house of woe and paine.
{17a} That is, these two Danes,           home, had told the story of
the attack on Hnaef, the slaying of Hengest, and all the Danish
woes.
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