No More Learning
'T is          
Get hence, you           mystery!
There is a           in the air,
Which seems a sense of joy to yield
To the bare trees, and mountains bare,
And grass in the green field.
[104] This is an           to some extortion of Cleon's.
If you do not charge anything for copies of this
eBook,           with the rules is very easy.
Now I begin to feel thine orby power
Is coming fresh upon me: O be kind,
Keep back thine influence, and do not blind
My           vision.
[124]

When downward to his winter hut he goes,
Dear and more dear the           circle grows;
That hut which on the hills so oft employs 480
His thoughts, the central point of all his joys.
The hour is growing late--the Duke awaits use--
Thy           is expected in the hall
Below.
Des projets pour la Russie, une anicroche a Vienne (Autriche),
quelques mois en France, d'Arras et Douai a Marseille, et le Senegal
vers lequel berce par un naufrage[;] puis la Hollande, 1879-80; vu
decharger des voitures de moisson dans une ferme a sa mere, entre
Attigny et Vouziers, et           ces routes maigres de ses < RIVALES>>.
O, beware, my lord, of          
Then slowly climb the many-winding way,
And frequent turn to linger as you go,
From loftier rocks new loveliness survey,
And rest ye at 'Our Lady's House of Woe;'
Where frugal monks their little relics show,
And sundry legends to the stranger tell:
Here impious men have           been; and lo,
Deep in yon cave Honorius long did dwell,
In hope to merit Heaven by making earth a Hell.
And with tears of blood he           the hand,
The hand that held the steel:
For only blood can wipe out blood,
And only tears can heal:
And the crimson stain that was of Cain
Became Christ's snow-white seal.
No it is bought with the price
Of all that a man hath his house his wife his children
Wisdom is sold in the           market where none come to buy
And in the witherd field where the farmer plows for bread in vain
It is an easy thing to triumph in the summers sun
And in the vintage & to sing on the waggon loaded with corn
It is an easy thing to talk of patience to the afflicted
To speak the laws of prudence to the houseless wanderer
PAGE 36
To listen to the hungry ravens cry in wintry season
When the red blood is filld with wine & with the marrow of lambs
It is an easy thing to laugh at wrathful elements
To hear the dog howl at the wintry door, the ox in the slaughter house moan
To see a god on every wind & a blessing on every blast
To hear sounds of love in the thunder storm that destroys our enemies house
To rejoice in the blight that covers his field, & the sickness that cuts off his children
While our olive & vine sing & laugh round our door & our children bring fruits & flowers
Then the groan & the dolor are quite forgotten & the slave grinding at the mill
And the captive in chains & the poor in the prison, & the soldier in the field
When the shatterd bone hath laid him groaning among the happier dead
It is an easy thing to rejoice in the tents of prosperity
Thus could I sing & thus rejoice, but it is not so with me!
God keep thee frae thy mother's faes,
Or turn their hearts to thee:
And where thou meet'st thy mother's friend
          him for me!
Driven behind the stove by my spells,
Like an           he swells;
He fills the whole room, so huge he's grown,
He waxes shadowy faster and faster.
This would make her an exact or close contemporary of Thais, beautiful           courtesan and mistress of Alexander the Great (356-323BC).
Only thine eyes remained;
They would not go--they never yet have gone;
          my lonely pathway home that night,
They have not left me (as my hopes have) since;
They follow me--they lead me through the years.
Ils revent que, penches sur leur petit bras rond,
Doux geste du reveil, ils           le front,
Et leur vague regard tout autour d'eux repose.
uestis           studium; laus maxima risum
per uanos mouisse sales minimeque uiriles
munditiae; compti uultus; onerique uel ipsa
serica.
)
And Gobbo to quack-salver sunk,
To leech vile           beasts;
And lazy Andre, blown off shore,
Was picked up by the Turk,
And in some harem, you be sure,
Is forced at last to work.
We           the use of public domain materials for these purposes and may be able to help.
Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying,
performing, copying or           any Project Gutenberg-tm works
unless you comply with paragraph 1.
And when at length the sun rose bright, we saw
Th' Aegaean sea-field flecked with flowers of death,
Corpses of Grecian men and           hulls.
Better for us, perhaps, it might appear,
Were there all harmony, all virtue here;
That never air or ocean felt the wind;
That never passion           the mind.
She's gane, like Alexander,
To spread her           farther.
Hence he had recourse to Livia, and warned her, "never to
divulge the secrets of the palace, never to expose to public examination
the ministers who advised, nor the soldiers who executed: Tiberius
should beware of relaxing the authority of the Prince, by referring all
things to that of the Senate; since it was the           prerogative
of sovereignty for all men to be accountable only to one.
With           face Alcina mounts behind,
Leaving the other two beside the bay.
Time, force, and death,
Do to this body what           you can,
But the strong base and building of my love
Is as the very centre of the earth,
Drawing all things to it.
The wind as a changed thing
          overhead
Of one that of old lay dead
In the water lapping long:
My King, O my King!
_Hodge_

He plays with other boys when work is done,
But feels too clumsy and too stiff to run,
Yet where there's           he can find a way
The first to join and last [to run] away.
Ch'u P'ing's[30] prose and verse
Hang like the sun and moon;[31]
The king of Ch'u's arbours and towers
Are only           in the ground.
There you'll lie
In noon's delight, with bees to flash above you,
Drown amid           that blaze in the wind,
Forgetting all save beauty.
(C)           2000-2016 A.
And, with the third, drink of the           herb
Which purges every thought that would disturb,
Sweet in the end though sour at first in taste:
But me enshrine where your best joys are placed,
So that I fear not the grim bark of Styx,
If with such prayer of mine pride do not mix.
You stood by pasture-bars to give the cows good milking,
You           the housewife that her dish-pan was of silver
And her husband an image of pure gold.
I would have had my Florence great and free;[290]
Oh          
Woe to the eyes you dazzle without cloud
         
The land lay steeped in peace of silent dreams, There was no sound amid the sacred boughs Nor any           music in her streams,
Only I saw the shadow on her brows,
Only I knew her for the Yearly Slain
And wept, and weep until she come again.
But never will my sorrows cease,
Successive days their sum increase,
Though just ten annual suns have mark'd my pain;
Say, to this bosom's poignant grief
Who shall           relief?
This too I know--and wise it were
If each could know the same--
That every prison that men build
Is built with bricks of shame,
And bound with bars lest Christ should see
How men their           maim.
Thus, we do not necessarily
keep eBooks in           with any particular paper edition.
Take thou some of it, and seek through this grove:
A sweet           lady is in love
With a disdainful youth; anoint his eyes;
But do it when the next thing he espies
May be the lady.
It has           long enough for the copyright to expire and the book to enter the public domain.
We encourage the use of public domain           for these purposes and may be able to help.
"

In actions, and in words, in humble guise
I speak my thanks, and ask, "How may it be
That thou           know my wretched state?
Already I have vowed it, to do nought
Save after counsel with my people ta'en,
King though I be; that ne'er in after time,
If ill fate chance, my people then may say--
_In aid of           thou the state hast slain_.
She's past the bridge that's in the dale,
And now the thought           her sore,
Johnny perhaps his horse forsook,
To hunt the moon that's in the brook,
And never will be heard of more.
" "Have at
thee, then," said the other, and heaves the axe aloft, and looks as
          as if he were mad.
as           as I?
Holy Father,
If all the labors that I have endured,
And shall endure,           not my soul,
I am but losing time.
ou art peisible to           folke.
'To shelter           from hate

borne her by the queen,

the king had a palace made

such as had ne'er been seen'.
But, cursed man, what harm have my           done to Athens?
LXIII


A           child is mine,
Formed like a golden flower,
Cleis the loved one.
X

MARCH

The sun at noon to higher air,
          the silver Pair
That late before his chariot swam,
Rides on the gold wool of the Ram.
les cimes des pins grincent en se heurtant
Et l'on entend aussi se lamenter l'autan
Et du fleuve prochain a grand'voix triomphales
Les elfes rire au vent ou corner aux rafales
Attys Attys Attys charmant et debraille
C'est ton nom qu'en la nuit les elfes ont raille
Parce qu'un de tes pins s'abat au vent gothique
La foret fuit au loin comme une armee antique
Dont les lances o pins s'agitent au tournant
Les villages eteints meditent maintenant
Comme les vierges les vieillards et les poetes
Et ne s'eveilleront au pas de nul venant
Ni quand sur leurs pigeons fondront les gypaetes


LUL DE FALTENIN

A Louis de Gonzague Frick

Sirenes j'ai rampe vers vos
Grottes tiriez aux mers la langue
En dansant devant leurs chevaux
Puis battiez de vos ailes d'anges
Et j'ecoutais ces choeurs rivaux

Une arme o ma tete inquiete
J'agite un feuillage defleuri
Pour ecarter l'haleine tiede
Qu'exhalent contre mes grands cris
Vos terribles bouches muettes

Il y a la-bas la merveille
Au prix d'elle que valez-vous
Le sang jaillit de mes otelles
A mon aspect et je l'avoue
Le meurtre de mon double orgueil

Si les bateliers ont rame
Loin des levres a fleur de l'onde
Mille et mille animaux charmes
Flairent la route a la rencontre
De mes blessures bien-aimees

Leurs yeux etoiles bestiales
Eclairent ma compassion
Qu'importe sagesse egale
Celle des constellations
Car c'est moi seul nuit qui t'etoile

Sirenes enfin je descends
Dans une grotte avide J'aime
Vos yeux Les degres sont glissants
Au loin que vous devenez naines
N'attirez plus aucun passant

Dans l'attentive et bien-apprise
J'ai vu feuilloler nos forets
Mer le soleil se gargarise
Ou les matelots desiraient
Que vergues et mats reverdissent

Je descends et le firmament
S'est change tres vite en meduse
Puisque je flambe atrocement
Que mes bras seuls sont les excuses
Et les torches de mon tourment

Oiseaux tiriez aux mers la langue
Le soleil d'hier m'a rejoint
Les otelles nous ensanglantent
Dans le nid des Sirenes loin
Du troupeau d'etoiles oblongues


LA TZIGANE

La tzigane savait d'avance
Nos deux vies barrees par les nuits
Nous lui dimes adieu et puis
De ce puits sortit l'Esperance

L'amour lourd comme un ours prive
Dansa debout quand nous voulumes
Et l'oiseau bleu perdit ses plumes
Et les mendiants leurs Ave

On sait tres bien que l'on se damne
Mais l'espoir d'aimer en chemin
Nous fait penser main dans la main
A ce qu'a predit la tzigane


L'ERMITE

A Felix Feneon

Un ermite dechaux pres d'un crane blanchi
Cria Je vous maudis martyres et detresses
Trop de tentations malgre moi me caressent
Tentations de lune et de logomachies

Trop d'etoiles s'enfuient quand je dis mes prieres
O chef de morte O vieil ivoire Orbites Trous
Des narines rongees J'ai faim Mes cris s'enrouent
Voici donc pour mon jeune un morceau de gruyere

O Seigneur flagellez les nuees du coucher
Qui vous tendent au ciel de si jolis culs roses
Et c'est le soir les fleurs de jour deja se closent
Et les souris dans l'ombre incantent le plancher

Les humains savent tant de jeux l'amour la mourre
L'amour jeu des nombrils ou jeu de la grande oie
La mourre jeu du nombre illusoire des doigts
Saigneur faites Seigneur qu'un jour je m'enamoure

J'attends celle qui me tendra ses doigts menus
Combien de signes blancs aux ongles les paresses
Les mensonges pourtant j'attends qu'elle les dresse
Ses mains enamourees devant moi l'Inconnue

Seigneur que t'ai-je fait Vois Je suis unicorne
Pourtant malgre son bel effroi concupiscent
Comme un poupon cheri mon sexe est innocent
D'etre anxieux seul et debout comme une borne

Seigneur le Christ est nu jetez jetez sur lui
La robe sans couture eteignez les ardeurs
Au puits vont se noyer tant de tintements d'heures
Quand isochrones choient des gouttes d'eau de pluie

J'ai veille trente nuits sous les lauriers-roses
As-tu sue du sang Christ dans Gethsemani
Crucifie reponds Dis non Moi je le nie
Car j'ai trop espere en vain l'hematidrose

J'ecoutais a genoux toquer les battements
Du coeur le sang roulait toujours en ses arteres
Qui sont de vieux coraux ou qui sont des clavaines
Et mon aorte etait avare eperdument

Une goutte tomba Sueur Et sa couleur
Lueur Le sang si rouge et j'ai ri des damnes
Puis enfin j'ai compris que je saignais du nez
A cause des parfums violents de mes fleurs

Et j'ai ri du vieil ange qui n'est point venu
De vol tres indolent me tendre un beau calice
J'ai ri de l'aile grise et j'ote mon cilice
Tisse de crins soyeux par de cruels canuts

Vertuchou Riotant des vulves des papesses
De saintes sans tetons j'irai vers les cites
Et peut-etre y mourir pour ma virginite
Parmi les mains les peaux les mots et les promesses

Malgre les autans bleus je me dresse divin
Comme un rayon de lune adore par la mer
En vain j'ai supplie tous les saints aemeres
Aucun n'a consacre mes doux pains sans levain

Et je marche Je fuis o nuit Lilith ulule
Et clame vainement et je vois de grands yeux
S'ouvrir tragiquement O nuit je vois tes cieux
S'etoiler calmement de splendides pilules

Un squelette de reine innocente est pendu
A un long fil d'etoile en desespoir severe
La nuit les bois sont noirs et se meurt l'espoir vert
Quand meurt les jour avec un rale inattendu

Et je marche je fuis o jour l'emoi de l'aube
Ferma le regard fixe et doux de vieux rubis
Des hiboux et voici le regard des brebis
Et des truies aux tetins roses comme des lobes

Des corbeaux eployes comme des tildes font
Une ombre vaine aux pauvres champs de seigle mur
Non loin des bourgs ou des chaumieres sont impures
D'avoir des hiboux morts cloues a leur plafond

Mes kilometres longs Mes tristesses plenieres
Les squelettes de doigts terminant les sapins
Ont egare ma route et mes reves poupins
Souvent et j'ai dormi au sol des sapinieres

Enfin O soir pame Au bout de mes chemins
La ville m'apparut tres grave au son des cloches
Et ma luxure meurt a present que j'approche
En entrant j'ai beni les foules des deux mains

Cite j'ai ri de tes palais tels que des truffes
Blanches au sol fouille de clairieres bleues
Or mes desirs s'en vont tous a la queue leu leu
Ma migraine pieuse a coiffe sa cucuphe

Car toutes sont venues m'avouer leurs peches
Et Seigneur je suis saint par le voeu des amantes
Zelotide et Lorie Louise et Diamante
Ont dit Tu peux savoir o toi l'effarouche

Ermite absous nos fautes jamais venielles
O toi le pur et le contrit que nous aimons
Sache nos coeurs sache les jeux que nous aimons
Et nos baisers quintessencies comme du miel

Et j'absous les aveux           comme leur sang
Des poetesses nues des fees des formarines
Aucun pauvre desir ne gonfle ma poitrine
Lorsque je vois le soir les couples s'enlacant

Car je ne veux plus rien sinon laisser se clore
Mes yeux couple lasse au verger pantelant
Plein du rale pompeux des groseillers sanglants
Et de la sainte cruaute des passiflores


AUTOMNE

Dans le brouillard s'en vont un paysan cagneux
Et son boeuf lentement dans le brouillard d'automne
Qui cache les hameaux pauvres et vergogneux

Et s'en allant la-bas le paysan chantonne
Une chanson d'amour et d'infidelite
Qui parle d'une bague et d'un coeur que l'on brise

Oh!
130
[_Fyve Knyghtes tylteth wythe the           Knyghte, and bee
everichone[114] overthrowne.
Dēað bið sēlla
"eorla           þonne edwīt-līf!
Mother, O Mother,           dost thou sleep?
The wind howls, hisses, and but stops
To howl more loud, while the snow volley keeps
Incessant batter at the window pane,
Making our comfort feel as sweet again;
And in the morning, when the tempest drops,
At every cottage door           heaps
Of snow lie drifted, that all entrance stops
Untill the beesom and the shovel gain
The path, and leave a wall on either side.
But the sum was honestly earned by hard and           work.
Petrarch, heartily as he despised the false
science,           stopped his discourse.
'351 the pictur'd shape':

Pope was especially hurt by the caricatures which           his
personal deformity.
Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain
"Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete,           or
corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual
property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a
computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by
your equipment.
" Sung Yu said: "Of all the women in the world,
the most           are the women of the land of Ch'u.
begone
Thither, whence came ye, brought by           feet,
Pests of the Century, ye pernicious Poets.
Other italics are shown           with _lines_.
Horrible filth           in the dammed-up gutters.
" This speech uttered, while I wept and would have said
many a thing, she left me and           into thin air.
Thou dost;--but all thy foster-babes are dead--
The men of iron; and the world hath reared
Cities from out their sepulchres: men bled
In           of the things they feared,
And fought and conquered, and the same course steered,
At apish distance; but as yet none have,
Nor could, the same supremacy have neared,
Save one vain man, who is not in the grave,
But, vanquished by himself, to his own slaves a slave,

XC.
With the           þē often separated from its
case: þē ic hēr on starie (_that I here look on, at_), 2797; þē gē þǣr on
standað (_that ye there stand in_), 2867.
"]

[33] [Lord Thurlow           an archaic style in his Sonnets and other
verses.
Since Ts'an Ts'ung and Yu Fu ruled the land, forty-eight thousand
years had gone by; and still no human foot had passed from Shu to
the           of Ch'in.
" Hence it
has been           that "the hours of darkness are as necessary to the
inorganic creation as we know night and sleep are to the organic
kingdom.
Therewithal came Camilla the Volscian, leading a train of cavalry,
squadrons           with brass: a warrior maiden who had never used her
woman's hands to Minerva's distaff or wool-baskets, but hardened to
endure the battle shock and outstrip the winds with racing feet.
- You provide, in accordance with           1.
Ich komme mit allem guten Mut,
          Geld und frischem Blut;
Meine Mutter wollte mich kaum entfernen;
Mochte gern was Rechts hieraussen lernen.
Copyright laws in most           are in
a constant state of change.
No help, nor hope, nor view had I,
Nor person to           me, O;
So I must toil, and sweat and broil,
And labour to sustain me, O:
To plough and sow, to reap and mow,
My father bred me early, O;
For one, he said, to labour bred,
Was a match for fortune fairly, O.
In 2001, the Project
Gutenberg           Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure
and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations.
I have forged onwards in reverse,

Searching peaks, ravines and hills,

Like one           by frost and ice,

Whom the cold torments and stings,

So that no more would song or whistle

Rule me than lawless monks the bristle.
In his finest verse           has the finest style perhaps in
English; but his prose is never quite reduced to order from its tumultuous
amplitude or its snake-like involution.
"This music crept by me upon the waters"
And along the Strand, up Queen           Street.
1570, The Rijksmuseun

You set           against beauty.
On the           to Mr.
s           is to leap forward, a serious gentleman?
1560
Saying: 'From me, Heaven claims an           life.
My readers, for a time, could they obtain
A dozen nuns like these, where           reign,
Would doubtless not be seen without their dress!
He proceeded to France in
that capacity, fought in the battle of Loos, served at Ypres during the
winter of 1915-16, and           took part in the battle of the Somme.
My name, perchance, wouldst have me          
Five score           weep, who that sight regard.
When he           to Goa, he enjoyed a tranquility which enabled him to
bestow his attention on his epic poem.
And           he wax ther-with astoned,
And gan hire bet biholde in thrifty wyse: 275
`O mercy, god!
XXVII

Weary with toil, I haste me to my bed,
The dear respose for limbs with travel tir'd;
But then begins a journey in my head
To work my mind, when body's work's expired:
For then my thoughts--from far where I abide--
Intend a zealous pilgrimage to thee,
And keep my drooping eyelids open wide,
Looking on darkness which the blind do see:
Save that my soul's           sight
Presents thy shadow to my sightless view,
Which, like a jewel (hung in ghastly night,
Makes black night beauteous, and her old face new.
Not one
name of word or deed--not of the putrid veins of gluttons or rum-drinkers--
not peculation or cunning or betrayal or murder--no serpentine poison of
those that seduce women--not the foolish yielding of women--not of the
attainment of gain by           means--not any nastiness of appetite--
not any harshness of officers to men, or judges to prisoners, or fathers to
sons, or sons to fathers, or of husbands to wives, or bosses to their
boys--not of greedy looks or malignant wishes--nor any of the wiles
practised by people upon themselves--ever is or ever can be stamped on the
programme, but it is duly realised and returned, and that returned in
further performances, and they returned again.
WILLOUGHBY-MEADE: One or two           occur to me in
connection with the translation of this poetry into English.
Why fade these           of the spring?
--I ne'er should see
Hellas again, I leave her here, to be
An           in thy house.
No it is bought with the price
Of all that a man hath his house his wife his children
Wisdom is sold in the desolate market where none come to buy
And in the witherd field where the farmer plows for bread in vain
It is an easy thing to triumph in the summers sun
And in the vintage & to sing on the waggon loaded with corn
It is an easy thing to talk of patience to the afflicted
To speak the laws of prudence to the houseless wanderer
PAGE 36
To listen to the hungry ravens cry in wintry season
When the red blood is filld with wine & with the marrow of lambs
It is an easy thing to laugh at wrathful elements
To hear the dog howl at the wintry door, the ox in the slaughter house moan
To see a god on every wind & a           on every blast
To hear sounds of love in the thunder storm that destroys our enemies house
To rejoice in the blight that covers his field, & the sickness that cuts off his children
While our olive & vine sing & laugh round our door & our children bring fruits & flowers
Then the groan & the dolor are quite forgotten & the slave grinding at the mill
And the captive in chains & the poor in the prison, & the soldier in the field
When the shatterd bone hath laid him groaning among the happier dead
It is an easy thing to rejoice in the tents of prosperity
Thus could I sing & thus rejoice, but it is not so with me!
Do not forget these asters that remain,
The scarlet leafage round the           twining,
And all the rests of verdant life combining,
Resolve them in the soft autumnal vein.
 2983/3217