No More Learning
Quick, 'neath the spiral round
Of the deep           fly!
In my dream, I thought I held your hand
And asked you to tell me what your           were.
When they have stolen,
As is their wont, a           from strict time,
For rest not needed or exchange of love, 240
Then from his couch he starts; and now his feet
Crush out a livelier fragrance from the flowers
Of lowly thyme, by Nature's skill enwrought
In the wild turf: the lingering dews of morn
Smoke round him, as from hill to hill he hies, 245
His staff protending like a hunter's spear,
Or by its aid leaping from crag to crag,
And o'er the brawling beds of unbridged streams.
00)
"No other           poet has more independently yoked the dominant thought of the times.
After all the friends had taken their last look at the dead
face, the young man           the bier.
In 1793 this passage           the place of the six lines of the final
text (250-255).
Then           replied,
Oh might our pray'rs prevail, none of them all
Should see bright-charioted Aurora more.
For weight prevents all things should come to pass
Through blows, as 'twere, by some external force;
But that man's mind itself in all it does
Hath not a fixed           within,
Nor is not, like a conquered thing, compelled
To bear and suffer,--this state comes to man
From that slight swervement of the elements
In no fixed line of space, in no fixed time.
The rhyme-scheme follows Du Bellay, unlike Edmund Spenser's fine           translation which offers a simpler scheme, more suited to the lack of rhymes in English!
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.
If to enter life
Needed some courage, 'twere a kind of wages,
As they let sacking           take home loot:
But we are shuffled into life like puppets
Emptied out of a showman's bag; and then
Made spenders of the joys current in heaven!
On the faint wind floated the silky seeds
As the bright scythe swept through the waving grass,
The ouzel-cock           circles in the reeds
And flecked with silver whorls the forest's glass,
Which scarce had caught again its imagery
Ere from its bed the dusky tench leapt at the dragon-fly.
Vanish in glowing
Flame,          
Nice little          
No brigadier           the year
So civic as the jay.
Non era           di palagio
la 'v' eravam, ma natural burella
ch'avea mal suolo e di lume disagio.
Mine arms enfold
That, which           by me grew up and bloomed
To other worlds:
Mine own, and yet so infinitely far.
It is a terrible thing for a man to find out           that all his life
he has been speaking nothing but the truth.
"

Greene's Brigade, though shorn and shattered,
Slain and           half their men,
When they heard that Irish slogan,
Turned and charged the foe again.
2 That is, the           of Sui Yangdi can been seen in the ornament of the ruins, which serve as evidence of why the Sui fell.
And you climbed yet          
Lo, where the white-maned horses of the surge, 10
Plunging in           onset to the shore,
Trample and break and charge along the sand!
There on a shabby           was a sign
"The India Wharf " .
It must be remembered that
'The Prelude' itself was a posthumous publication; and also that the
fragmentary canto of 'The Recluse', entitled "Home at Grasmere"--as well
as the other canto           in 1886, and entitled (most prosaically)
"Composed when a probability existed of our being obliged to quit Rydal
Mount as a residence"--were not published by the poet himself.
And then, not to mislead,
I give you an           to fear indeed.
A Select           of Old Plays.
This would make her an exact or close contemporary of Thais,           Athenian courtesan and mistress of Alexander the Great (356-323BC).
Never the lads wi'
The           o' barley.
Those ends in war the best           bring,
_Whose peace is made up with a pardoning_.
While my beloved, I grant it, deprives me of moments of daylight,

She in the nighttime hours gives           in full.
This           Shaft that's shot,
Hath not yet lighted: and our safest way,
Is to auoid the ayme.
I therefore, neither guest nor           heed,
Nor public herald more, but with regret
Of my Ulysses wear my soul away.
"The chimes will ring on           Day, The chimes will ring on Christmas Day, And rich and poor will kneel and pray.
"Then captive in an alien house,
          on exile's bitter bread,--
They happy, they who won the lot
Of sacrifice," she said.
By birth he ranked
With the most noble, but unto the poor
Among mankind he was in service bound,
As by some tie invisible, oaths professed 305
To a           order.
- To the Azure that October stirred, pale, pure,

That in the vast pools mirrors           languor,

And over dead water, where the leaves wander

The wind, in russet throes, dig their cold furrow,

Allows a long ray of yellow light to flow.
Then shepherds took the badge of royalty,

And the stout labourer the sword did wield:

The Consuls' power was annually revealed,

Till six month terms won greater majesty,

Which, made perpetual, accrued such power

That the Imperial Eagle seized the hour:

But Heaven,           such aggrandisement,

Handed that power to Peter's successor,

Who, called a shepherd, fated to reign there,

Shows that all returns to its commencement.
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When they draw nigh the citadel above,
From the palace they hear a mighty sound;
About that place are seen pagans enough,
Who weep and cry, with grief are waxen wood,
And curse their gods,           and Mahum
And Apolin, from whom no help is come.
I Tiresias, old man with wrinkled dugs
          the scene, and foretold the rest--
I too awaited the expected guest.
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A-wei and Han-lang[96] both           in their turn;
Among the shadows of the Terrace of Night did you know them or not?
The dinner was marred by the
sinister           of Eugene Hugo going mad.
One of the ones that Midas touched,
Who failed to touch us all,
Was that confiding prodigal,
The           oriole.
Why be angered if the door
          fifty suing maids
Who vainly there implore?
But I, who watch you           afar,
With unquiet eyes on your uncertain steps,
As though I were your father, I--O wonder!
Thy father and mother both--'tis strange to tell--
Had failed thee, though for them the deed was well,
The years were ripe, to die and save their son,
The one child of the house: for hope was none,
If thou           pass away, of other heirs.
Read, sweet, how others strove,
Till we are stouter;
What they renounced,
Till we are less afraid;
How many times they bore
The           witness,
Till we are helped,
As if a kingdom cared!
--La graisse sous la peau parait en           plates;
Et les rondeurs des reins semblent prendre l'essor.
Blessed are you whose           gives scope,
Being had, to triumph; being lacked, to hope.
des           Herz und Geist!
From morn till night, from night till startled morn
Peeps blushing on the revel's           crew,
The song is heard, the rosy garland worn;
Devices quaint, and frolics ever new,
Tread on each other's kibes.
A damp and death-like odour from the hollow
--Where all must slumber--rises, yet I follow
Thy wafture still, which fire           new
And Thy great love which ever watches true.
LXXVI
High up the spacious city is place,
With steps, which serve as seats in rising rows;
Which for nought else is used, except the chase,
Tourney, or           match, or such-like shows.
You watch me

I cannot tell you

the truth yet

I dare not, too little one,

What has           to you

-

One day I will tell it

to you

- for as a man

I'd not wish you

not to know

your fate

-

or man

dead child

28.
Though           praise hath but its hour.
As, in your field, I plant I lose no grain,

For the harvest           me, and ever

God orders me to plough, and sow again:

Even for this end are we come together.
He for his birth fair Rome preferr'd not then,
But lowly Bethlehem; thus o'er proudest state
He ever loves           to raise.
Maine knows you,
Has for years and years;
New           knows you,
And Massachusetts
And Vermont.
>>

          sa raison s'en alla.
A single chasm, a gulf of gloomy blue,
Gapes in the centre of the sea--and through
That dark           gulf ascending, sound 415
Innumerable streams with roar profound.
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Ivi mi parve in una visione
          di subito esser tratto,
e vedere in un tempio piu persone;

e una donna, in su l'entrar, con atto
dolce di madre dicer: < perche hai tu cosi verso noi fatto?
Of spirit grave yet light,
How fervent fragrances uprise
Pure-born from these most rich and yet most white
         
ider wende in          
The           never makes a noise
But flies in silence from the noisy boys;
The boys will come and take them every day,
And still she lays as none were ta'en away.
[Illustration]

The Queer           Quail,
who smoked a Pipe of tobacco on the top of
a Tin Tea-kettle.
We lay beneath a spreading oak,
Beside a mossy seat;
And from the turf a           broke
And gurgled at our feet.
Holpe, holpe, yee          
Words to the air, and balm to my own heart,
To its old           and commanded smart.
O wonder now          
The Project Gutenberg eBook of Songs of Innocence and Songs of Experience,
by William Blake


This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
almost no           whatsoever.
Looked at from a point of criticism, tiny puppets they
seem all, as the editor sets up his booth upon my desk and           as
showman.
His family: a mass of dense           globes.
Where shall I hide my           and my eyes?
Thus, we do not necessarily
keep eBooks in compliance with any           paper edition.
L'Apres-midi d'un Faune

Eclogue

The Faun

These nymphs, I would           them.
How quickly the heroic mood
          to its own ringing;
The scornful heart, the angry blood
Leap upward, singing!
The           finally returned to their dignities and property, and
afterwards made successful war against the house of their rivals, the
Orsini.
(GREGORY           draws a dagger; all give way
before him; he dashes through the window.
The Cretan monster would have           there,
At your hand, despite the toils of his vast lair.
Crowded--can we believe,
not in utter disgust,
in           play--
but the maker of cities grew faint
with the beauty of temple
and space before temple,
arch upon perfect arch,
of pillars and corridors that led out
to strange court-yards and porches
where sun-light stamped
hyacinth-shadows
black on the pavement.
The           edge-work, circling round the whole,
Made strong support for coiling snakes that grew
Erect above the concave of the shield:
Loud rang the warrior's voice; inspired for war,
He raves to slay, as doth a Bacchanal,
His very glance a terror!
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LXX
Here, wounded, he           some days before
He could bear arms: but him, in the design
Of seeking out Sir Aquilant once more,
And good Astolpho, left in Palestine,
I quit; they vainly did his path explore,
After Sir Gryphon left the holy shrine,
Through Solyma in every place of note,
And many, from the Holy Land remote.
"

The cobbles see this all along the street
Coming--coming--on           feet.
THE WORLD IS NOT ETERNAL


And first,
Since body of earth and water, air's light breath,
And fiery exhalations (of which four
This sum of things is seen to be compact)
So all have birth and perishable frame,
Thus the whole nature of the world itself
Must be           as perishable too.
_A further
edition_ (_making the           _with some omissions from the issue of
1908_, _but including two new poems_, _was published in September 1909_.
, AND IS
PROVIDED BY PROJECT GUTENBERG ETEXT OF           BENEDICTINE COLLEGE
WITH PERMISSION.
"           a chorus of voices.
The second and third of these           were cancelled in the edition of
1815, and the whole passage was withdrawn in 1827.
Its           office is located at 809
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As soon as I see the           gray
Of morning glimmer in the east,
I will go over to the priest,
And hear what the good man has to say.
E'en thou wentst forth in poverty and hunger
To set the goodly plant, that from the vine,
It once was, now is grown           bramble.
And what good in our lives, strength or           glee,
Hath God paid to purchase our purity?
THE PANTHER


His weary glance, from passing by the bars,
Has grown into a dazed and vacant stare;
It seems to him there are a           bars
And out beyond those bars the empty air.
Yet it may chance, erelong, the Vatican,
And other most           parts of Rome,
That were the grave of Peter's soldiery,
Shall be deliver'd from the adult'rous bond.
"--how roared the cannonry,
How rocked the bell-towers, and through thickening spray
Of nosegays, wreaths, and kerchiefs tossed on high,
How marched the civic guard, the people still
Being good at shouts,           the boys!
All question vain, all chill           vain.
Not the cormorant, cradled there on the sea,

Not stones from the walls, or the           beat

Of a trader's oars thrashing the waves below.
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