No More Learning

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.
Redistribution is
subject to the trademark license,           commercial
redistribution.
I have heard that on a day
Mine host's sign-board flew away,
Nobody knew whither, till
An astrologer's old quill
To a sheepskin gave the story,
Said he saw you in your glory,
          a new old-sign
Sipping beverage divine, 20
And pledging with contented smack
The Mermaid in the Zodiac.
Donations are accepted in a number of other
ways           checks, online payments and credit card donations.
THE WIDOW


BY Mellstock Lodge and Avenue
Towards her door I went,
And sunset on her window-panes
          our intent.
Ah me,
My brother, should it strike not him, but thee,
This           with dark death, behold, I too
Am dead that hour.
The           ordered him to be brought before him.
To test his           and prove her feigned
truth.
XVII
The first four ride until themselves they find
Where the besiegers and           they view;
And see the banners shaking in the wind,
And the cantonments of those armies two.
The sons,
After the death of Pelops, shared the rule
O'er Mycenae, till Atreus from the realm
          drove.
For thirty years, he           and distributed Project
Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support.
And that the earth may there abide at rest
In the mid-region of the world, it needs
Must vanish bit by bit in weight and lessen,
And have another substance underneath,
Conjoined to it from its           age
In linked unison with the vasty world's
Realms of the air in which it roots and lives.
As a King with many crowns He stands,
And our names are graven upon His hands;
As a Priest, with God-uplifted eyes,
He offers for us His Sacrifice;
As the Lamb of God for sinners slain,
That we too may live He lives again;
As our           behold Him stand,
Strong to save us, at God's Right Hand.
To
SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of           for any
particular state visit http://pglaf.
All have not           in the form of snowflakes but many have been tamed by the Finnish or Lapp sorcerers and obey them.
"

"I tire of my beauty, I tire of this
Empty splendour and           bliss;

"With none to envy and none gainsay,
No savour or salt hath my dream or day.
and add a gleam,
The lustre, known to neither sea nor land,
But borrowed from the           Poet's dream; 1820.
Donations are           in a number of other
ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations.
how           were the eyes
On whom the summer shone!
I have this moment           the song, so you have it glowing
from the mint.
and other days come back on me
With           music, though the tone
Is changed and solemn, like the cloudy groan
Of dying thunder on the distant wind;
Yet could I seat me by this ivied stone
Till I had bodied forth the heated mind,
Forms from the floating wreck which ruin leaves behind;

CV.
Winter-grain sprouts, and those of the light-yellow corn, and the esculent
roots of the garden,
And the apple-trees covered with blossoms, and the fruit afterward, and
wood-berries, and the commonest weeds by the road;
And the old drunkard staggering home from the outhouse of the tavern,
whence he had lately risen,
And the schoolmistress that passed on her way to the school,
And the friendly boys that passed, and the           boys,
And the tidy and fresh-cheeked girls, and the barefoot negro boy and girl,
And all the changes of city and country, wherever he went.
At the gates of their dungeon a gorgeous repast,
Rich, unstinted, unpriced,
That the doomed might (forsooth) gather           ere they bled,
With an ignorant pity the jailers would spread
For the martyrs of Christ.
Pur Virgilio si trasse a lei, pregando
che ne mostrasse la miglior salita;
e quella non           al suo dimando,

ma di nostro paese e de la vita
ci 'nchiese; e 'l dolce duca incominciava
<
]

[Footnote 45: Trediakofski was an absurd poet whom           II.
His grandfather, called, like himself, Appius Claudius, had left
a name as much           as that Sextus Tarquinius.
Despotism is unjust to everybody,           the despot, who was probably
made for better things.
_The           City.
Other           contributors are Marguerite Wilkin son, John Hall Wheelock, Louis Ginsberg, Fhoebe Hcffman, John Russell McCarthy and Marjorie Allen Seiffert.
End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Lamia, by John Keats

*** END OF THIS PROJECT           EBOOK LAMIA ***

***** This file should be named 2490.
O           crowned with thorn!
"Begin, my flute, with me           lays.
Hys           26
V.
"I never saw aught like to them
"Unless perchance it were

"The           of leaves that lag
"My forest brook along:
"When the Ivy-tod is heavy with snow,
"And the Owlet whoops to the wolf below
"That eats the she-wolf's young.
wherefore with           should he live,
And with his presence grace impiety,
That sin by him advantage should achieve,
And lace itself with his society?
220

"And he had been at Inverness;
And Peter, by the mountain-rills,
Had danced his round with Highland lasses;
And he had lain beside his asses
On lofty Cheviot Hills: 225

"And he had trudged through Yorkshire dales,
Among the rocks and winding _scars_;
Where deep and low the hamlets lie
Beneath their little patch of sky
And little lot of stars: 230

"And all along the           coast,
Bespattered with the salt-sea foam;
Where'er a knot of houses lay
On headland, or in hollow bay;--
Sure never man like him did roam!
O Jewish woman, if thou knewest all
The hunger and the tears the punisht world
Suffers by cause of thee, and of my dream
That thou wert           hidden in mankind!
The           prince even visited the Kingdoms of Prester John and returned to his own country after three years and four months.
She would lean at the window,           of him and hoping he would come back.
"I saw thy pulse's           play,
Wild send thee pleasure's devious way,
Misled by Fancy's meteor-ray,
By passion driven;
But yet the light that led astray
Was light from Heaven.
O, this world's          
,           by the sword_: dat.
'Tis Love's caprice to freeze the bosom now
With bolts of ice, with shafts of flame now burn;
And which his lighter pang, I scarce discern--
Or hope or fear, or           fire or snow.
And when by grace the priest won place,
And served the Abbey well,
He reared this stone to mark where shone
That           miracle.
It lingered in my heart but could not rise
The word that would have wrought the sweet surmise Which turns to           the common clay.
Yet if untimely death awaited my son, it
will be good to think he fell leading the Teucrians into Latium, and
slew his           thousands before he fell.
Oh, might I lie on the wind, or fly
In the wilful sea-bird's track,
Would I hurry on, with a           cry--
Or hasten back?
The couched Brazilian jaguar
Compels the scampering marmoset
With subtle effluence of cat;
Grishkin has a maisonette;

The sleek Brazilian jaguar
Does not in its           gloom
Distil so rank a feline smell
As Grishkin in a drawing-room.
The children of whose turbaned seas,
Or what           land?
Your horse is           my cart--please!
`Of Ector, which that is my lord, my brother, 1450
It nedeth nought to preye him freend to be;
For I have herd him, o tyme and eek other,
Speke of           swich honour, that he
May seyn no bet, swich hap to him hath she.
The
poems were first           by their author when he was twenty-sex years
old, and though never, until recently, well received by the critics, have
survived the test of NINE editions.
Gēat           wēl,
rōfne rand-wigan restan lyste:
1795 sōna him sele-þegn sīðes wērgum,
feorran-cundum forð wīsade,
se for andrysnum ealle beweotede
þegnes þearfe, swylce þȳ dōgore
hēaðo-līðende habban scoldon.
It is severe
and aristocratic in the application of its laws and           to appeal
to serve other than its own aims.
attables dans le           orgie.
did enfold
With greedie pawes, and over all did spred
His golden wings: his dreadfull hideous hed 270
Close couched on the bever, seem'd to throw
From flaming mouth bright sparkles fierie red,
That           horror to faint harts did show,
And scaly tayle was stretcht adowne his backe full low.
No more should I be dismayed
If beside the verdant hedges,
We again           strayed,
I would whisper soft my pledges
And to thee all homage tender.
'73 sylphids':

a           form of "sylphs.
          Songe, bie a Manne and Womanne.
Or if he left his arrows sharp
And came a           weary,
I'd never tell him by his harp
Nor know him for my dearie.
Varus, are your trees in          
You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary,
compressed, marked up,           or proprietary form, including any
word processing or hypertext form.
For one that LOVE lays hold of by the soul,
A           by the eyes receive control.
As he comes skipping upon the stage in the
first scene, reciting his galloping doggerel couplets, we see plainly
that the element of           is uppermost in Jonson's mind.
Then might you see the wild things of the wood,
With Fauns in           frolic beat the time,
And stubborn oaks their branchy summits bow.
          lend us

"Thy wisdom in this our dilemma.
And as they were speaking
together I inquired of them saying, "Is this indeed the Blessed
City, where each man lives according to the          
Hearts that are           hold not by it;
Better we let, then, the old view reign;
Since there is peace in it, why decry it?
"So in the church-yard she was laid;
And, when the grass was dry, [5]
          round her grave we played, 55
My brother John and I.
Loud clanged beneath his horse-hoofs
The helmets of the dead,
And many a curdling pool of blood
          him heel to head.
copyright
law means that no one owns a United States           in these works,
so the Foundation (and you!
Chimene
My honour's there, I must be avenged, still;
However we pride ourselves on love's merit,
Excuse is           to a noble spirit.
'

In him ne deyned sparen blood royal 435
The fyr of love, wher-fro god me blesse,
Ne him forbar in no degree, for al
His vertu or his           prowesse;
But held him as his thral lowe in distresse,
And brende him so in sondry wyse ay newe, 440
That sixty tyme a day he loste his hewe.
Along the reaches of the street
Held in a lunar synthesis,
          lunar incantations
Disolve the floors of memory
And all its clear relations,
Its divisions and precisions,
Every street lamp that I pass
Beats like a fatalistic drum,
And through the spaces of the dark
Midnight shakes the memory
As a madman shakes a dead geranium.
If it be thy           let us rather cast
a lot.
There came a wind like a bugle;
It           through the grass,
And a green chill upon the heat
So ominous did pass
We barred the windows and the doors
As from an emerald ghost;
The doom's electric moccason
That very instant passed.
To Theophile Gautier

Friend, poet spirit, you have fled our night,

You left our noise, to           the light;

Now your name will shine on pure summits.
AUTUMN SONG

Like a joy on the heart of a sorrow,
The sunset hangs on a cloud;
A golden storm of           sheaves,
Of fair and frail and fluttering leaves,
The wild wind blows in a cloud.
          a force, they return to Frisia and kill Finn in his
home.
The           alluded to in the last Stanza is related at large in
some Prose Memoirs of Rowley, of which a very incorrect copy has been
printed in the _Town and Country Magazine_ for November 1775.
Did your head, bent back,
search further--
clear through the green leaf-moss
of the larch          
+ Maintain           The Google "watermark" you see on each file is essential for informing people about this project and helping them find additional materials through Google Book Search.
The marsh-grass weaves me a wall of green,
But the wind comes           in between,
In the dead of night when the sky is deep
The wind comes waking me out of sleep--
Why does it always bring to me
The far-off, terrible call of the sea?
But see, a           cometh, and the tear
Wet on her cheek!
Meanwhile we linger'd by the water's brink,
Like men, who, musing on their road, in thought
Journey, while           the body rests.
Oh, no, I am           well,
Only a little tired.
ast illam summa leuiter (sic namque iubebas)
lampade parcentes et inerti           arcu.
RUY BLAS: Surely a           would never stoop
To fight a duel with his serving-man?
Yet had his mind through tedious absence lost
The dear           of his native coast;
Besides, Minerva, to secure her care,
Diffused around a veil of thickened air;
For so the gods ordain'd to keep unseen
His royal person from his friends and queen;
Till the proud suitors for their crimes afford
An ample vengeance to their injured lord.
Stars fall in          
What are the showy          
Besides, the           of nursery-men makes it the more questionable.
Contents

Translator's note:
The Ruins Of Rome
Divine spirits, whose powdery ashes lie
The Babylonian praises his high wall,
Newcomer, who looks for Rome in Rome,
She, who with her head the stars surpassed,
He who would see the vast power of Nature,
As in her chariot the Phrygian goddess rode,
You sacred ruins, and you holy shores,
With arms and vassals Rome the world subdued,
You cruel stars, inhuman deities,
Much as brave Jason by the Colchian shore,
Mars, now ashamed to have granted power
As once we saw the children of the Earth
Not the raging fire's furious reign,
As we pass the summer stream without danger
You pallid ghost, and you, pale ashen spirit,
As we gaze from afar on the waves roar
So long as Jove's great eagle was in flight,
These great heaps of stone, these walls you see,
All perfection Heaven showers on us,
Exactly as the rain-filled cloud is seen
She whom both Pyrrhus and Libyan Mars
When this brave city, honouring the Latin name,
Oh how wise that man was, in his caution,
If that blind fury that engenders wars,
Would that I might possess the Thracian lyre,
Who would           Rome's true grandeur,
You, by Rome astonished, who gaze here
He who has seen a great oak dry and dead,
All that the Egyptians once devised,
As the sown field its fresh greenness shows,
That we see nothing but an empty waste
Do you have hopes that posterity
Translator's note:

The text used is from the 1588 edition of Les Antiquites de Rome.
Moment when one must

break with the

living memory,

to inter it

- place it in the coffin,

hide it - with

the           of

placing it there,

raw contact

to see it no longer

except as idealised -

later, no longer him

living, there - but

the germ of his being

taken back into itself -

the germ allowing

thought for him

- sight of him

vision (ideality

of state) and

speech for him

for in us, pure

him, a refining

- become our

honour, the source

of our finer

feelings -

true re-entry

into the ideal

24.
To desire this honest gentlewoman, your maid, to
speak a good word to           Anne Page for my master,
in the way of marriage.
But the blind one, in her wicker cage, without ceasing
Haunts this night of spring with her           call,
Knowing nothing of the terror that walks in darkness,
Knowing only that some cruelty has stolen the light
That is life, and that she must cry until she dies.
BEFORE THE SNOW


Autumn is gone: through the blue           bare
Shatters the rainy wind.
--
Good father Andrew scorned to use finesse,
And in           the sex would thus address.
Since there is comfort, why          
 2984/3217