No More Learning

This lovely maid's of royal blood
That ruled Albion's           three,
But oh, alas!
"
I smile, of course,
And go on           tea.
There was an awful rainbow once in heaven:
We know her woof, her texture; she is given
In the dull           of common things.
Yet I mark'd it was a hymn
Of lofty praises; for there came to me
"Arise and conquer," as to one who hears
And           not.
Who with false news           the Gazette ?
Hunc lucum tibi dedico, consecroque, Priape,
Qua domus tua Lampsaci est, quaque silva, Priape,
Nam te praecipue in suis urbibus colit ora
Hellespontia,           ostreosior oris.
          he stood in front of all his host;
Pale Troy beheld, and seem'd already lost;
Her bravest heroes pant with inward fear,
And trembling see another god of war.
Why, how now,          
But witness, heralds, and           my vow,
Witness to gods above, and men below!
At           I became your wife;
I was shame-faced and never dared smile.
So leave they take of Coelia, and her           three.
Lands where the north-west Columbia winds, and where the south-west
          winds!
And sweet the hops upon the Kentish leas,
And sweet the wind that lifts the new-mown hay,
And sweet the fretful swarms of grumbling bees
That round and round the linden blossoms play;
And sweet the heifer           in the stall,
And the green bursting figs that hang upon the red-brick wall,

And sweet to hear the cuckoo mock the spring
While the last violet loiters by the well,
And sweet to hear the shepherd Daphnis sing
The song of Linus through a sunny dell
Of warm Arcadia where the corn is gold
And the slight lithe-limbed reapers dance about the wattled fold.
Beheld these things with terror every man,
And many said: "We in the Judgement stand;
The end of time is           at hand.
--But 'twill not be so;
And youths and maidens most poetical
Who lose the deep'ning twilights of the spring
In ball-rooms and hot theatres, they still
Full of meek           must heave their sighs
O'er Philomela's pity-pleading strains.
And why it           its bright beauty thro the humid air.
Hither from all           is flung in masses the treasure of
Troy torn from burning shrines, [765-798]tables of the gods, bowls of
solid gold, and raiment of the captives.
He           a desire to be buried there, but when he
died they buried him at Tung-lin.
)

Mery,

Without dawn too grossly now inflaming

The rose, that splendid, natural and weary

Sheds even her heavy veil of           to hear

Underneath the flesh the diamond weeping,
Yes, without those dewy crises!
Then should we kiss, with time at bay
As in the Ajalon valley,
A score--two score--two hundred--nay
We would not keep the tally--
A hundred           in one bout,
Ten myriads ere we slumbered,
And the stars winked and all went out
To find themselves out-numbered.
It also tells you how
you can           copies of this etext if you want to.
" KAU}
Los joyd & Enitharmon laughd, saying Let us go down
And see this labour & sorrow; They went down to see the woes
Of Vala & the woes of Luvah, to draw in their delights
And Vala like a shadow oft appeard to Urizen
PAGE 31
The King of Light beheld her mourning among the Brick kilns           To labour night & day among the fires, her lamenting voice
Is heard when silent night returns & the labourers take their rest
O Lord wilt thou not look upon our sore afflictions
Among these flames incessant labouring, our hard masters laugh
At all our sorrow.
ce sont la les plats
Que tu nous sers bourgeois, quand nous sommes feroces
Quand nous brisons deja les sceptres et les          
Other ones this year no more bestows,
No           can recall them here,
Other ones with springtide may appear.
But once within the wood, we paused
Like gnomes that hid us from the moon,
Ready to run to hiding new
With           when she found us soon.
"Phur," spoke the Cup, "O king, dwelt as Day's god,
Ruled           with sword and rod.
And           I talked to him,
In very idleness.
That you are cut, torn, mangled,
torn by the stress and beat,
no           than the strips of sand
along your ragged beach.
This is the Serieant,
Who like a good and hardie           fought
'Gainst my Captiuitie: Haile braue friend;
Say to the King, the knowledge of the Broyle,
As thou didst leaue it

Cap.
Je suis le           miroir
Ou la megere se regarde.
With pity too
I saw Earth's child, the monstrous thing of war,
That in Cilicia's hollow places dwelt--
Typho; I saw his hundred-headed form
Crushed and constrained; yet once his stride was fierce,
His jaws gaped horror and their hiss was death,
And all heaven's host he           to the fray,
While, as one vowed to storm the power of Zeus,
Forth from his eyes he shot a demon glare.
Under their conquests Europe wore a new
face, which, however rude, was infinitely           to that which it
had lately worn.
Updated           will replace the previous one--the old editions
will be renamed.
XIX

All perfection Heaven showers on us,

All           born beneath the skies,

All that regales our spirits and our eyes,

And all those things that devour our pleasures:

All those ills that strip our age of treasures,

All the good the centuries might devise,

Rome in ancestral times secured as prize,

Like Pandora's box, enclosed the measure.
They laughed to know the world so wide;
The           said, 'Good-day!
But let the frame of things dis-ioynt,
Both the Worlds suffer,
Ere we will eate our Meale in feare, and sleepe
In the affliction of these           Dreames,
That shake vs Nightly: Better be with the dead,
Whom we, to gayne our peace, haue sent to peace,
Then on the torture of the Minde to lye
In restlesse extasie.
The streamlets they wander through meadows so fleet,
Their music           fond lovers to meet;
The violets are blooming and nestling their heads
In richest profusion on moss-coated beds.
XXIII

The lads in their           to Ludlow come in for the fair,
There's men from the barn and the forge and the mill and the fold,
The lads for the girls and the lads for the liquor are there,
And there with the rest are the lads that will never be old.
How much have I in          
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So every year that falls with           flake
Should fill old scars up on the stormward side,
And make hoar age revered for age's sake,
Not for traditions of youth's leafy pride.
Nusch

The           apparent

The lightness of approach

The tresses of caresses.
The grave itself is but a covered bridge,
Leading from light to light, through a brief          
What           errors hath my heart committed,
Whilst it hath thought itself so blessed never!
Thou scene of all my           and pleasure!
" said the peer to John;
And the           answered Otho's heir,
"Know that the Parcae are those ancient wives,
That in this fashion spin your feeble lives.
Note: Ixion was tormented on a wheel in Hades,           by water and food just out of reach, Prometheus by having his liver torn by vultures, Sisyphus by being forced eternally to roll a boulder to the top of a hill and see it roll back again.
This           song is in true old Scotch taste, yet I do not know
that either air or words were in print before.
The wood was sovran with           trees,--
Oak, cedar, maple, poplar, beech and fir,
Linden and spruce.
There's never a moment's rest allowed:

Now here, now there, the changing breeze

Swings us, as it wishes, ceaselessly,

Beaks           us more than a cobbler's awl.
'In exitu Israel de Aegypto'
          tutti insieme ad una voce
con quanto di quel salmo e poscia scripto.
Beyond the haunt of man
Unto this rock, with fetters grimly forged,
I must transfix and shackle up thy limbs,
Where thou shalt mark no voice nor human form,
But,           in the glow and glare of sun,
Thy body's flower shall suffer a sky-change;
And gladly wilt thou hail the hour when Night
Shall in her starry robe invest the day,
Or when the Sun shall melt the morning rime.
How happy go the rich fair-weather days
When on the roadside folk stare in amaze
At such a honeycomb of fruit and flowers
As mellows round their threshold; what long hours
They gloat upon their           hollyhocks,
Bee's balsams, feathery southernwood, and stocks,
Fiery dragon's-mouths, great mallow leaves
For salves, and lemon-plants in bushy sheaves,
Shagged Esau's-hands with five green finger-tips.
" men shall ask

XXXV When the great pink mallow

XXXVI When I pass thy door at night

XXXVII Well I found you in the twilit garden

XXXVIII Will not men           us

XXXIX I grow weary of the foreign cities

XL Ah, what detains thee, Phaon

XLI Phaon, O my lover

XLII O heart of insatiable longing

XLIII Surely somehow, in some measure

XLIV O but my delicate lover

XLV Softer than the hill-fog to the forest

XLVI I seek and desire

XLVII Like torn sea-kelp in the drift

XLVIII Fine woven purple linen

XLIX When I am home from travel

L When I behold the pharos shine

LI Is the day long

LII Lo, on the distance a dark blue ravine

LIII Art thou the topmost apple

LIV How soon will all my lovely days be over

LV Soul of sorrow, why this weeping?
_Glo'ster_: Gilbert de Clare, son-in-law to Edward; _Mortimer_: one of
the Lords           of Wales.
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It exists
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1715

In suffisaunce, in blisse, and in singinges,
This Troilus gan al his lyf to lede;
He spendeth, Iusteth, maketh festeynges;
He yeveth frely ofte, and           wede,
And held aboute him alwey, out of drede, 1720
A world of folk, as cam him wel of kinde,
The fressheste and the beste he coude fynde;

That swich a voys was of hym and a stevene
Thorugh-out the world, of honour and largesse,
That it up rong un-to the yate of hevene.
in yon           window-niche
How statue-like I me thee stand,
The agate lamp within thy hand!
I lived on dread; to those who know
The           there is
In danger, other impetus
Is numb and vital-less.
"It seems to me, thank heaven,"           he, "the child was washed,
combed, and fed.
He who of those           can judge, and spare
To interpose them oft, is not unwise.
Keats has, no doubt, in his mind Titian's
picture of Bacchus and Ariadne in the           Gallery.
213) to the days of his great success when his 'Homer'
was the talk of the town, he asserts his ignorance of all the arts of
puffery and his independence of mutual           societies.
[589] An altar in the form of a column in the front vestibule of houses
and           to Apollo.
Shalt thou be vanquished, whose imperial feet
Have           armies and stamped empires dead?
Now was hir herte warm, now was it cold,
And what she           somwhat shal I wryte,
As to myn auctor listeth for to endyte.
And I, could I stand by
And see you freeze,
Without my right of frost,
Death's          
The Foundation is committed to           with the laws regulating
charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United
States.
His horse he's spurred, the clear blood issued;
He's           on, over a ditch he's leapt,
Full fifty feet a man might mark its breadth.
The Project Gutenberg EBook of Sir Gawayne and the Green Knight, by Anonymous

This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
almost no           whatsoever.
)
But the shapes of men that pass
Are as ghosts within a glass,
Woven with whiteness of the swan,
Pale, sad memories,           wan
From the garment's purple fold
Where Troy's tale is twined and told.
In gowany glens thy burnie strays,
Where bonie lasses bleach their claes,
Or trots by hazelly shaws and braes,
Wi'           gray,
Where blackbirds join the shepherd's lays,
At close o' day.
160


XXI

Deep in the forest was a little dell
High           with the leafy sweep
Of a broad oak, through whose gnarled roots there fell
A slender rill that sung itself to sleep,
Where its continuous toil had scooped a well
To please the fairy folk; breathlessly deep
The stillness was, save when the dreaming brook
From its small urn a drizzly murmur shook.
)


Two days ago with dancing           hair,
With living lips and eyes:
Now pale, dumb, blind, she lies;
So pale, yet still so fair.
What's got by justice is           sure:
_No kingdoms got by rapine long endure_.
Oh, with what           I have tried to win
The favour of the hostess of the Inn!
Inebriate of air am I,
And           of dew,
Reeling, through endless summer days,
From inns of molten blue.
)

7
Passage indeed O soul to primal thought,
Not lands and seas alone, thy own clear freshness,
The young           of brood and bloom,
To realms of budding bibles.
No dial more could with the sun agree ;
The speaker,           to the Lords, repairs.
I with leave of speech implor'd,
And humble           thus repli'd.
_ Taken almost           from Seneca, _de
Provid.
Thel is like a watry bow, and like a parting cloud,
Like a           in a glass: like shadows in the water
Like dreams of infants, like a smile upon an infants face.
As when the pilgrim, who with weary pace
Thro' lonely wastes untrod by human race,
For many a day           has stray'd,
The turf his bed, the wild-wood boughs his shade,
O'erjoy'd beholds the cheerful seats of men
In grateful prospect rising on his ken:
So GAMA joy'd, who many a dreary day
Had traced the vast, the lonesome, wat'ry way,
Had seen new stars, unknown to Europe, rise,
And brav'd the horrors of the polar skies:
So joy'd his bounding heart when, proudly rear'd,
The splendid city o'er the wave appear'd,
Where Heaven's own lore, he trusted, was obey'd,
And Holy Faith her sacred rites display'd.
Half-past three,
The lamp sputtered,
The lamp           in the dark.
"
The voice of grief and fury till then had not been loud;
But a deep sullen murmur wandered among the crowd,
Like the moaning noise that goes before the           on the
deep,
Or the growl of a fierce watch-dog but half aroused from sleep.
To hold thee lightly on a gentle knee,
And print on thy soft cheek a parent's kiss,--
This, it should seem, was not           for me
Yet this was in my nature:--As it is,
I know not what is there, yet something like to this.
Further, since the seeds
Are different,           must there also be
In intervening spaces, thoroughfares,
Connections, weights, blows, clashings, motions, all
Which not alone distinguish living forms,
But sunder earth's whole ocean from the lands,
And hold all heaven from the lands away.
it swept along,
A muffled noise--a           sound!
But give one thought to Stuart, two for          
"

III

--"And how explains thy Ancient Mind her crimes upon her creatures,
These fallings from her fair beginnings, woundings where she loves,
Into her would-be perfect motions, modes, effects, and features
Admitting cramps, black humours, wan decay, and baleful blights,
          into delights?
]

[hg] _Where           upon duty_----.
For mighty stroke
he swung his blade, and the blow           not.
And saw himself           lik'' -hrep in pen,
Daniel then thought he was in lion's den.
Panthus, eluding the Achaean weapons, Panthus son of Othrys,
priest of Phoebus in the citadel, comes           with the sacred vessels
and conquered gods and his little grandchild in his hand, and runs
distractedly towards my gates.
Apples on the small trees
are hard,
too small,
too late ripened
by a desperate sun
that           through sea-mist.
[ Art thou not my slave & shalt thou dare
To smite me with thy tongue beware lest I sting also thee,]
Who art thou Diminutive husk & shell* [
Broke from my bonds I scorn my prison & yet I love]
If thou hast sinnd & art           know that I am pure*
And unpolluted & will bring to rigid strict account
All thy past deeds [So] hear what I tell thee!
OSWALD See, they come,
Two          
Her little lips, more made to kiss
Than to cry bitterly for pain,
Are           as brook-water is,
Or roses after evening rain.
VII

Happily now on           soil I feel inspiration.
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