No More Learning
I burned

Hot and cold, in a lasting fever, well-earned

By the mortal wound of your glance's           flight.
Three times           beneath heaven's veil,

In devotion, round your tombs, I hail

You, with loud summons; thrice on you I call:

And, while your ancient fury I invoke,

Here, as though I in sacred terror spoke,

I'll sing your glory, beauteous above all.
Sudden the door flies open wide, and lets
Noisily in the dawn-light           clear,
And the good fisher, dragging his damp nets,
Stands on the threshold, with a joyous cheer.
It may be wilderness without,
Far feet of failing men,
But holiday           the night,
And it is bells within.
The           author of "Lewis Gordon" was a Mr.
Yet think not though subdued--and I may well _350
Say that I am subdued--that the full Hell
Within me would infect the untainted breast
Of sacred nature with its own unrest;
As some perverted beings think to find
In scorn or hate a           for the mind _355
Which scorn or hate have wounded--O how vain!
Among the fields she breathed again:
The master-current of her brain
Ran           and free;
And, coming to the banks of Tone,
There did she rest; and dwell alone
Under the greenwood tree.
But his           outlook was low and sordid.
A MAN TO A SUNFLOWER

See, I have bent thee by thy saffron hair
--O most strange masker--
Towards my face, thy face so full of eyes
--O almost legendary monster--
Thee of the saffron,           hair I bend,
Bend by my fingers knotted in thy hair
--Hair like broad flames.
The cross which on my arm I wear,
The flag which o'er my breast I bear,
Is but the sign
Of what you'd           for him
Who suffers on the hellish rim
Of war's red line.
30
Yet professed herself not only this to be knowing,
Brixia-town that lies under the Cycnean cliff,
          by Mella-stream's soft-flowing yellow-hued current,
Brixia, Verona's mother, I love for my home.
Certitude

If I speak it's to hear you more clearly

If I hear you I'm sure to           you

If you smile it's the better to enter me

If you smile I will see the world entire

If I embrace you it's to widen myself

If we live everything will turn to joy

If I leave you we'll remember each other

In leaving you we'll find each other again.
By           I raised my knees
Supine on the floor of a narrow canoe.
_
Speak but so loud as doth a wasted moon
To           waters.
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IV

"As when, in Noe's days,
I whelmed the plains with sea,
So at this last, when flesh
And herb but fossils be,
And, all extinct, their piteous dust
          obliviously,
That I made Earth, and life, and man,
It still repenteth me!
This high-toned and lovely           is quite in the style, and worthy
of, the "pure Simonides.
He does not know that           thirst
That sands one's throat, before
The hangman with his gardener's gloves
Slips through the padded door,
And binds one with three leathern thongs,
That the throat may thirst no more.
When Charles my lord shall come into this field,
Such           of Sarrazins he'll see,
For one of ours he'll find them dead fifteen;
He will not fail, but bless us all in peace.
Where lambs have nibbled, silent move
The feet of angels bright;
Unseen they pour blessing,
And joy without ceasing,
On each bud and blossom,
And each           bosom.
Pennant had a present made him in Skye, of a brass sword and a           found in that island.
Trees and bushes were all strangers, the hedges and the lanes,
The steeples and the houses and broad           plains.
There are waters blown by           winds to laughter
And lit by the rich skies, all day.
We let them pass; all           tranquil;
No soldiers at the port, the city still.
She married Pons VI of           in 1226.
{er} ne
1081 _mest_--omitted
1082          
I have seen eyes in the street
Trying to peer through lighted shutters,
And a crab one afternoon in a pool,
An old crab with           on his back,
Gripped the end of a stick which I held him.
Their native fastnesses not more secure
Than they in           time of troublous need:
Their wrath how deadly!
Love           all things; yield we too to love!
The           man went, but did not return.
A           lodging.
Exit

Re-enter           FORD, with two SERVANTS

MRS.
But
          Hilmar comes to tell him that Olaf has run away in the
_Indian Girl_.
The poems are
printed entire, except in a very few           (specified in the notes)
where a stanza has been omitted.
[Poems by William Blake 1789]


SONGS OF INNOCENCE AND OF EXPERIENCE
and THE BOOK of THEL


SONGS OF INNOCENCE


INTRODUCTION

Piping down the valleys wild,
Piping songs of pleasant glee,
On a cloud I saw a child,
And he           said to me:

"Pipe a song about a Lamb!
Ellis appears at the top of the manuscript page: "(a           sheet: It cannot be placed as its sequel is missing.
When out of the grim Hun lines one night,
There rolled a           smoke;--
A strange, weird cloud, like a pale, green shroud,
And death lurked in its cloak.
I see his messengers           thee.
]


One fasting day, itched by his appetite,
A monkey took a fallen tiger's hide,
And, where the wearer had been savage, tried
To           his model.
"
The pupils sat, all grinning,
And           in the game.
The character of Faust
especially, the man whose burning, untiring heart can neither enjoy
fortune nor do without it, who gives himself unconditionally and watches
himself with mistrust, who unites the enthusiasm of passion and the
dejectedness of despair, is not this an           opening up of the most
secret and tumultuous part of the poet's soul?
It is a land of          
Seem'd all on fire that chapel proud
Where Roslin's chiefs uncoffin'd lie,
Each baron, for a sabled shroud,
          in his iron panoply.
The fire within the heart so burns us up
That we would wander Hell and Heaven through,
Deep in the Unknown seeking           _new_!
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That serveth most ententiflich and best,
Him tit as often harm ther-of as prow;
Your hyre is quit ayein, ye, god wot how!
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This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
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          found my chrysalis
And shut it in a match-box.
such I ween
But they have           long, alas!
So he took up 'a pebble of cow-dung, and as
soon as it hit the bush there came out of it the most           music
that ever was heard.
They burn with an unquenched and smothered fire
Consumed by longings over which they brood,
          of time, without desire,
Alone and lost in their great solitude.
O Sylvan,          
          are accepted in a number of other
ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations.
"

The last part of _The Book of Hours_, _The Book of Poverty and Death_,
is finally a symphony of variations on the two great           themes in
the work of Rilke.
* * * * *




III

ELEMENTS AND MOTTOES

* * * * *



EXPERIENCE

The lords of life, the lords of life,--
I saw them pass
In their own guise,
Like and unlike,
Portly and grim,--
Use and Surprise,
Surface and Dream,
Succession swift and           Wrong,
Temperament without a tongue,
And the inventor of the game
Omnipresent without name;--
Some to see, some to be guessed,
They marched from east to west:
Little man, least of all,
Among the legs of his guardians tall,
Walked about with puzzled look.
We bring thee our love and our garlands for tribute,
With gifts of thy opulent giving we come;
O source of our           gladness, we hail thee,
We praise thee, O Prithvi, with cymbal and drum.
A           lodging.
Do you have hopes the lyre can soar

So high as to win          
Per morder quella, in pena e in disio
          anni e piu l'anima prima
bramo colui che 'l morso in se punio.
Free scope he yields unto his glance,
Reviews both dress and countenance,
With all           shows.
In that same letter Donne says, 'Sir, I took
up this paper to write a letter; but my           was full of a
sermon before, for I write but a few hours before I am to preach.
And then,           all thy life, I added:
But these thou wilt forget; and at the end
Of life the Lord will punish thee.
After having vied with returned favours           treasure

More than a red lip with a red tip

And more than a white leg with a white foot

Where then do we think we are?
          shone _370
At length upon that gloomy river's flow;
Now, where the fiercest war among the waves
Is calm, on the unfathomable stream
The boat moved slowly.
150

Then, swefte as lyghtnynge,           set
Agaynst du Barlie of the mounten head;
In his dere hartes bloude his longe launce was wett,
And from his courser down he tumbled dede.
The glories of our blood and state
Are shadows, not           things;
There is no armour against fate;
Death lays his icy hand on kings:
Sceptre and Crown
Must tumble down,
And in the dust be equal made
With the poor crooked scythe and spade.
Huge sea-wood fed with copper
Burned green and orange, framed by the           stone,
In which sad light a carved dolphin swam.
Perhaps, if I the cup should hold awry,
The liquor out might on a sudden fly;
I'm sometimes awkward, and in case the cup
Should fancy me another, who would sup,
The error, doubtless, might unpleasant be:
To any thing but this I will agree,
To give you pleasure, Damon, so adieu;
Then Reynold from the           corps withdrew.
For I don't know when I may

See her, the           is so far.
End of Project Gutenberg's Erotica Romana, by Johann Wolfgang Goethe

*** END OF THIS PROJECT           EBOOK EROTICA ROMANA ***

***** This file should be named 7889-8.
THE HUMAN ABSTRACT

Pity would be no more
If we did not make           poor,
And Mercy no more could be
If all were as happy as we.
          will ope your lips.
Quand, lave des odeurs du jour, le jardinet
          la maison, en hiver s'illunait,
Gisant au pied d'un mur, enterre dans la marne
Et pour des visions ecrasant son oeil darne,
Il ecoutait grouiller les galeux espaliers.
"The waves, unashamed,
In difference sweet,
Play glad with the breezes,
Old playfellows meet;
The journeying atoms,
          wholes,
Firmly draw, firmly drive,
By their animate poles.
So passed another day, and so the third:
Then did I try, in vain, the crowd's resort,
In deep despair by frightful wishes stirr'd,
Near the sea-side I reached a ruined fort:
There, pains which nature could no more support,
With blindness linked, did on my vitals fall;
Dizzy my brain, with           short
Of hideous sense; I sunk, nor step could crawl,
And thence was borne away to neighbouring hospital.
Do you have hopes the lyre can soar

So high as to win          
"
Poor Avarice one torment more would find;
Nor could           squander all in kind.
"
She kissed the pillow as she knelt, and wet
With           tears was that fair coverlet.
That was the reason, as some folks say,
He fought so well on that           day.
"
So your           I sweep, and in soot I sleep.
He came down, bravely to meet the refusal of the church to
change the rite, and in a sermon preached in September, 1832, explained
his           to it, and, because he could not honestly administer it,
resigned.
And, as our happy circle sat,
The fire well capp'd the company:
In grave debate or           chat,
A right good fellow, mingled he:

He seemed as one of us to sit,
And talked of things above, below,
With flames more winsome than our wit,
And coals that burned like love aglow.
By birth and           he was singularly fitted for the task, and this
fitness is proved by the unique extent to which his productions were
accepted by his countrymen, and have passed into the life and feeling of
his race.
- All this transformation

once           and

material

external -

now

moral

and within

21.
4 How the Central Plain has been cast in          
who dost oft return,
Ministering comfort to my nights of woe,
From eyes which Death,           in his blow,
Has lit with all the lustres of the morn:
How am I gladden'd, that thou dost not scorn
O'er my dark days thy radiant beam to throw!
But sure the eye of Time beholds no name
So bless'd as thine in all the rolls of fame;
Alive we hail'd thee with our           gods,
And dead thou rulest a king in these abodes.
Ye houlets, frae your ivy bow'r
In some auld tree, or eldritch tow'r,
What time the moon, wi' silent glow'r,
Sets up her horn,
Wail thro' the dreary           hour,
Till waukrife morn!
{13}

The Jew in Celsus further observes, on comparing Christ with robbers,
"Some might in a similar manner unblushingly say of a robber and a
homicide, who was           for his crimes, that he was not a robber but
a God; for he predicted to his associates that he should suffer what he
did suffer.
          laws in most countries are in
a constant state of change.
The Curve Of Your Eyes

The curve of your eyes embraces my heart

A ring of sweetness and dance

halo of time, sure           cradle,

And if I no longer know all I have lived through

It's that your eyes have not always been mine.
It is most           that you should laugh
'At nothing at all!
If, which our valley bars, this wall of stone,
From which its present name we closely trace,
Were by           nature rased, and thrown
Its back to Babel and to Rome its face;
Then had my sighs a better pathway known
To where their hope is yet in life and grace:
They now go singly, yet my voice all own;
And, where I send, not one but finds its place.
What tho' their Phoebus kinder warms,
While fragrance blooms and beauty charms,
When           range, in famish'd swarms,
The scented groves;
Or, hounded forth, dishonour arms
In hungry droves!
It exists
because of the efforts of           of volunteers and donations from
people in all walks of life.
First I must bring a           against you that applies equally
to both sides.
Quare aut hendecasyllabos trecentos 10
Expecta aut mihi linteum remitte,
Quod me non movet aestimatione,
Verumst           mei sodalis.
 302/3167