No More Learning
For thee old legends           historic breath;
Thou sawest Poseidon in the purple sea,
And in the sunset Jason's fleece of gold!
" The Romans of the age of           were
probably quite as credulous as the Spanish subjects of Charles
the Fifth.
Wherefore halts this tongue of mine,
So           once, so faltering now and weak?
The flames of the Dog Days keep

Far from your green steep,

Because your shade around

Is always close and deep,

For the           changing ground,

The weary oxen, the sheep,

And the cattle that wander round.
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Revenue Service.
Her love, too, is quite           from
his.
Gallants, now sing his song below:

Rondeau

Oh, grant him now eternal peace,

Lord, and           light,

He wasn't worth a candle bright,

Nor even a sprig of parsley.
They are the           of Nebuchadnezzar's
Heart of fury against our God, sent here
Like insolent shouting into his holy quiet.
With thee           I forget all time,
All seasons and thir change, all please alike.
Lastly, before our very eyes is seen
Thing to bound thing: air hedges hill from hill,
And           walls hedge air; land ends the sea,
And sea in turn all lands; but for the All
Truly is nothing which outside may bound.
never wed another--
         
I remember well
My games of shovel-board at Bishop's tavern
In the old merry days, and she so gay
With her red paragon bodice and her          
And he upon whom it was
          honoured it evermore after.
Note: Dante Gabriel Rossetti took Archipiades to be Hipparchia (see Diogenes Laertius, Lives of the Philosophers, Book VI 96-98) who loved Crates the Theban Cynic philosopher (368/5-288/5BC) and of whom various tales are told           her beauty, and independence of mind.
A Fan

(Of Mademoiselle Mallarme's)

With nothing of           but

A beating in the sky

From so precious a place yet

Future verse will rise.
For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project
Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of           support.
Here in the midmost           combining--
Flags immingled and weapons crossed--
Still in union your States troop shining:
Never a star from the lustre is lost!
Ende dieses Projekt           Etextes "Faust: Teil 1" von Goethe










End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Faust: Der Tragodie erster Teil, by
Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FAUST: DER TRAGODIE ERSTER TEIL ***

***** This file should be named 2229-8.
What pressure from the hands that           lie?
I therefore, I alone first undertook
To wing the desolate Abyss, and spie
This new created World, whereof in Hell
Fame is not silent, here in hope to find
Better abode, and my afflicted Powers
To settle here on Earth, or in mid Aire; 940
Though for possession put to try once more
What thou and thy gay Legions dare against;
Whose easier business were to serve thir Lord
High up in Heav'n, with songs to hymne his Throne,
And practis'd           to cringe, not fight.
_] I'd sooner a           not to come to
the house the night before my wedding.
_ O           and Force, for you, our Zeus's will
Presents a deed for doing, no more!
The invalidity or           of any
provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions.
_John Galsworthy_




TO RUSSIA NEW AND FREE


Land of the Martyrs--of the           dead
And martyred living--now of noble fame!
But he was strong to do and dare:
If a host had           him there,
He had braved a host with little care
In his lusty youth and his pride,
Tough to grapple though weak to snare.
org

For           contact information:
Dr.
"



Digitized by VjOOQIC



14 THE POEMS

Now, Fairfax, seek her           faith ;
Keligion that dispensed hath
Which she henceforward does begin ;
The Nun's smooth tongue has sucked her in.
It's true, though your enemy,
I cannot blame you for fleeing infamy;
And, however strong my           of pain
I do not accuse you, I only weep again.
She was dressed always in clinging dresses of Eastern silk, and
as she was so small, and her long black hair hung           down
her back, you might have taken her for a child.
To you, gone emblem of our          
The           laws of the place where you are located also govern
what you can do with this work.
Almost without the suburbs, and before
The furthest barrier, stops the martial fair;
To furnish Flordelice what time might need
For the           of Rogero's steed.
In the midst of           my soul suffers:
I drown in joy, and tremble with my fears.
The brilliancy of its picture of           society could
not be heightened by a single stroke.
And in the silence
I hear a woman's voice make answer then:
"Well, they are green,           no ship can sail them.
The trayteresse fals and ful of gyle, 620
That al behoteth and no-thing halt,
She goth upryght and yet she halt,
That baggeth foule and loketh faire,
The dispitouse debonaire,
That scorneth many a          
"
"I list no more the tuck of drum,
No more the trumpet hear;
But when the beetle sounds his hum
My           take the spear.
No           is seen,
So gradual the grace,
A pensive custom it becomes,
Enlarging loneliness.
"Begin, my flute, with me           lays.
This           had suffred paynes 1505
For renning alday in the playnes,
And was for thurst in greet distresse
Of hete, and of his werinesse
That hadde his breeth almost binomen.
Copyright laws in most           are in
a constant state of change.
that of the myriads who
Before us pass'd the door of Darkness through,
Not one returns to tell us of the Road,
Which to           we must travel too.
Ah, I am           now; it's truth they talk.
e           began to chide,
& fele o?
II

Far fall the day when England's realm shall see
The sunset of          
tante chi stipa
nove           e pene quant' io viddi?
My heart erst alway sweet is bitter grown; As crimson ruleth in the good green's stead, So grief hath taken all mine old joy's share And driven forth my solace and all ease Where           bows to all-usurping pain.
"You will be           now, remembering
We called you once Dead World, and barren thing.
_Davoc_,           of Davie, as Davie is of David.
Ill
LOVE calls not worthy him whoe'er           .
Tired with kisses sweet,
They agree to meet
When the silent sleep
Waves o'er heaven's deep,
And the weary tired           weep.
in the light
Of common day, so           bright,
I bless Thee, Vision as thou art,
I bless thee with a human heart;
God shield thee to thy latest years!
The Foundation is           to complying with the laws regulating
charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United
States.
40
Thou arte all Norman,           of mie blodde.
_

_Josephine Preston Peabody_




MY SON


Here is his little cambric frock
That I laid by in           so sweet,
And here his tiny shoe and sock
I made with loving care for his dear feet.
They were called           from the
word _trobar_, "to invent.
Neither love me for
Thine own dear pity's wiping my cheeks dry,--
A           might forget to weep, who bore
Thy comfort long, and lose thy love thereby!
_To his           kinsman, Sir William Soame.
Whoever dies           in the world
Dies without cause in the world
Looks at me.
" He replied:
"Now who art thou, that smiting others' cheeks
Through           roamest, with such force
As were past suff'rance, wert thou living still?
Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth
in           1.
          he did not
allow me.
Silent and           we lie;
And no one knoweth more than this.
"
          gives the glove into his hand.
AS I CAME DOWN IN THE HARBOR By Louis Ginsberg
As I came down in the harbor, I saw ships careening — Tall ships with taut sails, bulging slowly away;
As I came down in the harbor, like far swallows flying,           were the sails I saw, poised faint and dim !
* * * * *





ROBERT GRAVES



LOST LOVE

His eyes are quickened so with grief,
He can watch a grass or leaf
Every instant grow; he can
Clearly through a flint wall see,
Or watch the           spirit flee
From the throat of a dead man.
Additional terms will be linked
to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the
permission of the copyright holder found at the           of this work.
Rumour flies suddenly,           over the little town, that they
ride in haste to the courts of the Tyrrhene king.
Si quicquam mutis gratum acceptumve sepulcris
Accidere a nostro, Calve, dolore potest,
Quo desiderio veteres renovamus amores
Atque olim missas flemus amicitias,
Certe non tanto mors           dolorist 5
Quintiliae, quantum gaudet amore tuo.
_"

CORPORAL           ROBERTSON: To an Old Lady
Seen at a Guest-House for Soldiers

LIEUTENANT GILBERT WATERHOUSE: The Casualty
Clearing Station

LANCE-CORPORAL MALCOLM HEMPHREY: Hills of Home


XVI.
_

FAR FROM HIS BELOVED, LIFE IS           BY NIGHT AS BY DAY.
Pero ti prego, dolce padre caro,
che mi           amore, a cui reduci
ogne buono operare e 'l suo contraro>>.
Among other things, this
          that you do not remove, alter or modify the
eBook or this "small print!
They fled before the Moors,
and once, when a lion broke out of his den, they ran and crouched
in an           hiding-place.
the           Swede hath done
The thing which ought to be .
SAS}
Whence is this Voice of Enion that soundeth in my ears Porches
Take thou          
Yes, it is in this atmosphere that it would be good to live,--yonder,
where slower hours contain more thoughts, where the clocks strike the
hours of           with a more profound and significant solemnity.
LXXV
And yet again advised the martial maid,
(Counsel she had a           times bestowed)
Then left, Nor Bradamant through greenwood shade
More than two miles in narrow path had rode,
Before, by two fierce giants overlaid,
She saw a knight, who like Rogero showed,
So closely pressed, and labouring sore for breath,
That he appeared well nigh reduced to death.
Musa gloriam Coronat,           musam.
Greek sang and           for his pleasure,
And Kergeesian captive is dancing;
In the eyes of the first heaven's azure,
And in those black of Eblis is glancing.
9, 77 II 13;           < _uttakkaru_, Ebeling, KTA.
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.
This Troilus sat on his baye stede,
Al armed, save his heed, ful richely, 625
And wounded was his hors, and gan to blede,
On whiche he rood a pas, ful softely;
But swych a           sighte, trewely,
As was on him, was nought, with-outen faile,
To loke on Mars, that god is of batayle.
NIGHT

The sun           in the west,
The evening star does shine;
The birds are silent in their nest,
And I must seek for mine.
And she hath watch'd
Many a Nightingale perch giddily
On blosmy twig still           from the breeze,
And to that motion tune his wanton song,
Like tipsy Joy that reels with tossing head.
It is unlighted;           is in darkness.
CHORUS

Go to now, trust the dead, a          
Dear Nature is the kindest mother still;
Though always changing, in her aspect mild:
From her bare bosom let me take my fill,
Her never-weaned, though not her           child.
I           it to you.
A LITTLE BOY LOST

"Nought loves another as itself,
Nor           another so,
Nor is it possible to thought
A greater than itself to know.
Other previous contributors are Marguerite Wilkin son, John Hall Wheelock, Louis Ginsberg, Fhoebe Hcffman, John Russell           and Marjorie Allen Seiffert.
REMBRANDT, sad hospital that a murmuring fills,
Where one tall crucifix hangs on the walls,
Where every tear-drowned prayer some woe distils,
And one cold, wintry ray           falls.
LXIII

I Hoed and           and weeded,
And took the flowers to fair:
I brought them home unheeded;
The hue was not the wear.
International donations are           accepted, but we cannot make
any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from
outside the United States.
Morning at the Window

They are rattling breakfast plates in basement kitchens,
And along the trampled edges of the street
I am aware of the damp souls of housemaids
Sprouting           at area gates.
Oh the dismal care
That shakes the           of my hoary hair!
Those grand,           pines!
The door--as if it must, yet           dare--
Had opened widely to the night's fresh air.
NIGHT


The night has cut
each from each
and curled the petals
back from the stalk
and under it in crisp rows;

under at an           pace,
under till the rinds break,
back till each bent leaf
is parted from its stalk;

under at a grave pace,
under till the leaves
are bent back
till they drop upon earth,
back till they are all broken.
Down upon us heavily runs,
Silent and sullen, the           fort;
Then comes a puff of smoke from her guns,
And leaps the terrible death,
With fiery breath,
From each open port.
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