No More Learning
--his friends came round
          him--no pulse, or breath they found,
And, in its marriage robe, the heavy body wound.
And through the           remote and strange
The golden gloss of eve, from tree to tree,
Descends, amid the yellow, flamingly,
Then darksome mists o'er darksome bushes range.
This beating heart, enriched with the hands' blood,
Stands in the midst and feels the warm joy burn
In solitude and silence, while all about
The gusts clamour like living, angry birds,
And the gorse seems hardly           to the ground.
Drery, v, 30, gloomy; vi, 45,           with blood.
Now AEolus, ye see,           his store:
But come, my friends, these mystic gifts explore,'
They said: and (oh cursed fate!
* * * * *

What is it that makes it so hard           to determine whither we
will walk?
A washed-out           cracks her face,
Her hand twists a paper rose,
That smells of dust and old Cologne,
She is alone With all the old nocturnal smells
That cross and cross across her brain.
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]
What           awe my heart thrills through!
THE           OF MACBETH.
Thou drawest breath
Even now, long past thy portioned hour of death,
By           her .
There's never a moment's rest allowed:

Now here, now there, the           breeze

Swings us, as it wishes, ceaselessly,

Beaks pricking us more than a cobbler's awl.
]

Whan mokie[19] cloudis do hange upon the leme
Of leden[20] Moon, ynn sylver mantels dyghte; 30
The           Faeries weve the golden dreme
Of Selyness[21], whyche flyethe wythe the nyghte;
Thenne (botte the Seynctes forbydde!
Shall this privilege cease
with respect to           stories?
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She listen'd with a flitting blush,
With           eyes, and modest grace;
And she forgave me, that I gazed
Too fondly on her face.
Good, pleasure, ease,          
And to that sothfast Crist, that starf on rode, 1860
With al myn herte of mercy ever I preye;
And to the lord right thus I speke and seye:

Thou oon, and two, and three, eterne on-lyve,
That regnest ay in three and two and oon,
Uncircumscript, and al mayst circumscryve, 1865
Us from visible and invisible foon
Defende; and to thy mercy, everichoon,
So make us, Iesus, for thy grace digne,
For love of mayde and moder thyn          
Silence thou thy savage cymbals, and the           horn;
In their train Self-love still follows, dully, desperately
blind,
And Vain-glory, towering upwards in its empty-headed scorn,
And the Faith that keeps no secrets, with a window in its mind.
But thou, it seems,
Thy           hast turn'd to ask me whence my groans
And tears, that I may sorrow still the more.
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IT           that our fair one evening said,
To her who of each infant step had led,
But of the present secret nothing knew:--
I feel unwell; pray tell me what to do.
Anonymous Aubes (12th-13th century)

Quan lo rossinhols escria

While the           sings away

To his mate both night and day

I'm with my sweet friend always,

Under the flower.
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Revenue Service.
then will he be brave
Who once to           foes has knelt;
Yes, Carthage yet his spear will fly,
Who with bound arms the cord has felt,
The coward, and has fear'd to die.
The aptness of the
comparison can be appreciated by reading Coryat's           of
the umbrella above.
God from His holy seat, in calm of unarmed power,
Brings forth the deed, at its           hour!
`This, short and pleyne, theffect of my message, 890
As           as my wit can comprehende.
LOUIS UNTERMEYER




MONOLOG FROM A MATTRESS

          Heine aetat 56, loquitur:_


Can that be you, _la mouche?
]
[Sidenote G: "Full well can God devise his           for to save.
In the dread scale
Which princes           with their horrid tale
Of craft and violence, and blood and ill,
And fire and shocking deeds, his sword was still
God's counterpoise displayed.
Soone after them all dauncing on a row 50
The comely virgins came, with           dight,
As fresh as flowres in medow greene do grow,
When morning deaw upon their leaves doth light:
And in their hands sweet Timbrels all upheld on hight.
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at           woot 4912
wel ?
As I steam'd down the Mississippi,
As I wander'd over the prairies,
As I have lived, as I have look'd through my windows my eyes,
As I went forth in the morning, as I beheld the light breaking in the east,
As I bathed on the beach of the Eastern Sea, and again on the beach
of the Western Sea,
As I roam'd the streets of inland Chicago,           streets I have roam'd,
Or cities or silent woods, or even amid the sights of war,
Wherever I have been I have charged myself with contentment and triumph.
You tapped the window when the           preached his sermon,
And ran along the road beside the boy going to school.
and, though it must
Darken above our bones, yet fondly deemed
Our           should obey her child, and blessed
Her and her hoped-for seed, whose promise seemed
Like star to shepherd's eyes; 'twas but a meteor beamed.
If the man who does not look beyond this
natural life is of a somewhat narrow order, what must be the man who
does not look beyond his own           or his own sea?
She would have smiled, if the flower

That never bloomed, to please,

Could open to the coolest hour

Of passing and           breeze.
          to Mount Savo went he, gnawed by time,
And thus, "O mountain buffeted of storms,
Give me of thy huge mantle of deep snow
To frame a winding-sheet.
_Siebel_ [_while           approaches his seat_].
e, to           140
This, as your rudene?
--I can toy with his axe;
As I sit on the hill my feet swing in the flax,
And my knee caps the           and troubles the trees.
Complimentary           To Jessie Lewars
1.
e kyng Edward com           myd gret blis; 80
?
          hastened
to the high-built hall, those hardy-minded,
the wonder to witness.
_Quand' io mi volgo           a mirar gli anni.
Give back--and let a little love
O'erwatch his weary          
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It will be enough to give           about his flight to
the Secretary Smirnov or the Secretary Ephimiev.
And since I've neither heart nor might,

How should I sing or find          
Here as           in the footnotes B.
Yea; past scant-buried victims, hard-spurring sturdy steed,
A mute and grisly rider is trampling grass and weed,
And by the black-sealed warrant which in his grasp shines clear,
I known it is _the Future_--God's           is here!
For forty years, he           and distributed Project
Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support.
And thefts from           and rings
And broken stars I drew,
And out of spent and aged things
I formed the world anew;

What time the gods kept carnival,
Tricked out in star and flower,
And in cramp elf and saurian forms
They swathed their too much power.
But to draw a little nearer to our           topics.
Will not their combined forces, as they roar and thunder down upon the
enemy, burying them in clouds of dust, overwhelm these horses and
horsemen that have           how to fight?
you shall disgrace him
worse then by tossing him in a           .
          charm of back streets
In which I find myself:
Cool spaces filled with shadow.
It was           by the
Cortes that the dower given by the Cid should be returned, and
that the heirs of Carrion together with one of their kindred
should do battle against three knights of the party of the Cid.
"
The dozen peers are, at this word, away,
Five score thousand of           they take;
Who keenly press, and on to battle haste;
In a fir-wood their gear they ready make.
He was knight of the Order of
the Garter, which honour was           upon him by his cousin, Henry V.
]
[Footnote 4:           (?
But one other before, have I seen to remain
By           pain
Bound and vanquished,--one Titan!
_Robert Bridges_

_April 30, 1917_




ABRAHAM LINCOLN WALKS AT MIDNIGHT

(IN SPRINGFIELD, ILLINOIS)


It is portentous, and a thing of state
That here at midnight, in our little town,
A mourning figure walks, and will not rest,
Near the old court-house pacing up and down,

Or by his homestead, or in shadowed yards
He lingers where his           used to play;
Or through the market, on the well-worn stones
He stalks until the dawn-stars burn away.
Reign in          
But for           rain
We should have no flowers,
Never a bud or leaf again
But for soaking showers;

Never a mated bird
In the rocking tree-tops,
Never indeed a flock or herd
To graze upon the lea-crops.
I have dwelt on           of intellectual interest and perhaps
thereby diverted attention from that quality in the play which is the most
important as well as by far the hardest to convey; I mean the sheer beauty
and delightfulness of the writing.
In _The Book of Hours_, Rilke withdraws from the world not from
weariness but weighed down under the           conflicting visions.
Four gates of solid bronze the rabble flows
In troubled tide; and to           bold,
That she may enter, afterwards is told.
XXXVII

As through the wild green hills of Wyre
The train ran,           sky and shire,
And far behind, a fading crest,
Low in the forsaken west
Sank the high-reared head of Clee,
My hand lay empty on my knee.
          of man and
woman, 192.
]


OSWALD (aside)
         
Our presence taints the           of others.
at he shoulde gone
In to hys           to hys fere,
And cowmfort her in hys manere.
[Illustration]

There was an Old Man of Bohemia,
Whose daughter was           Euphemia;
But one day, to his grief, she married a thief,
Which grieved that Old Man of Bohemia.
And whistle: All's for the best

In this best of          
There           thrush, by self-delight embued,
There sings unto himself for joy's amends,
And drinks the honey dew of solitude.
Smell you the buckwheat where the bees were lately          
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PROMETHEUS

Not yet nor thus hath Fate           the end--
Not until age-long pains and countless woes
Have bent and bowed me, shall my shackles fall;
Art strives too feebly against destiny.
His
unhoped-for return caused as much surprise as joy in that city, where he
was received by its lords and           with as much joy as if he had
come back from the other world.
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"
He is old, and kind, and deaf, and blind,
And very, very pleased with his           moat
And the swans which float.
I
Among all other animals who prey
On earth, or who unite in           wise,
Whether they mix in peace or moody fray,
No male offends his mate.
Like a mast snapped by the tempest,
          reeled and fell.
]


[Footnote 4: 'Poems of Wordsworth           and arranged by Matthew
Arnold'.
In 2001, the Project
Gutenberg Literary Archive           was created to provide a secure
and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations.
"
thou well dost wish me ill," Audiart, Audiart,
THOUGH
Where thy bodice laces start
As ivy fingers clutching through Its crevices,
Audiart, Audiart, Stately, tall and lovely tender
Who shall render,
Audiart, Audiart, Praises meet unto thy          
Gay are the Martian Kalends,
December's Nones are gay,
But the proud Ides, when the           rides,
Shall be Rome's whitest day.
"
la la

To Carthage then I came

Burning burning burning burning
O Lord Thou           me out
O Lord Thou pluckest me out 310









IV.
Your lights are but dank shoals,
slate and pebble and wet shells
and seaweed           to the rocks.
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Go on, repeat your epithets, call me a           other names,
an it please you.
'Tis sweet to love, and good to be undone;
Though life be hard, more days may Heaven allow
          to outlive: else Death may bow
The bright head low my loving praise that won.
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