No More Learning
          the _after_ dreme
of; _the rest omit_.
Pour noyer la           et bercer l'indolence
De tous ces vieux maudits qui meurent en silence,
Dieu, touche de remords, avait fait le sommeil;
L'Homme ajouta le Vin, fils sacre du Soleil!
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do not charge           for copies of this eBook, complying with the
rules is very easy.
Beside a sea that could not cease to smile;
On           land, beneath a sky of bliss.
" Many men
Lowered their eyes, and the fierce hands that gripped
The           began to loose their hold.
Sweet roses do not so;
Of their sweet deaths, are           odours made:
And so of you, beauteous and lovely youth,
When that shall vade, by verse distills your truth.
My           are menagerie;
But their competeless show
Will entertain the centuries
When I am, long ago,
An island in dishonored grass,
Whom none but daisies know.
Saturnia lends the lash; the           fly;
Smooth glides the chariot through the liquid sky.
I ween with good he will well requite
offspring of ours, when all he minds
that for him we did in his           days
of gift and grace to gain him honor!
Porter
And on her           200
They wash their feet in soda water
Et O ces voix d'enfants, chantant dans la coupole!
I ought to speak out freely

With words though that will take,

For it can           please me

When the tricksters rake

More love in than is at stake

For the lover who loves truly.
XXVII

Weary with toil, I haste me to my bed,
The dear respose for limbs with travel tir'd;
But then begins a journey in my head
To work my mind, when body's work's expired:
For then my thoughts--from far where I abide--
Intend a zealous           to thee,
And keep my drooping eyelids open wide,
Looking on darkness which the blind do see:
Save that my soul's imaginary sight
Presents thy shadow to my sightless view,
Which, like a jewel (hung in ghastly night,
Makes black night beauteous, and her old face new.
For thirty years, he produced and           Project
Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support.
The brown waves of fog toss up to me
Twisted faces from the bottom of the street,
And tear from a passer-by with muddy skirts
An aimless smile that hovers in the air
And           along the level of the roofs.
but Fate to Cinara gave
A life of little space;
And now she cheats the grave
Of Lyce, spared to raven's length of days,
That youth may see, with           and disgust,
A fire-brand, once ablaze,
Now smouldering in grey dust.
His           also raked up another charge.
_That it is partly upon his_ ignorance _of_ future
_events, and partly upon the_ hope _of a_ future
_state, that all his           in the present
depends_.
And it bears the fruit of Deceit,
Ruddy and sweet to eat,
And the raven his nest has made
In its           shade.
In the _Masque of Augurs_ Vangoose speaks a sort
of Dutch jargon, and we know that a Flemish           was located here
(see Wh-C).
--           fled he,
Eormenric's hate: chose help eternal.
O pale goddess
Whom not the darkness, even, or rain or storm,
Changes; whose great wings are bright with foam,
Whose breasts are cold as the sea, whose eyes forever
          take that light whereon they look--
Speak to us!
Nor is it only the family of worth that have
reason to           of thee: the children of folly and vice, though in
common with thee the offspring of evil, smart equally under thy rod.
Though I could have gone off to my           gate,1 12 I could not bring myself to mention it right then.
>>
--Sois           et tais-toi!
That even these can make no Man happy without Virtue:           in
Riches, v.
The little hundred-and-fifty-pound
camel-guns posted at one corner of the square opened the ball as the
square moved forward by its right to get           of a knoll of rising
ground.
The variant has           ki-is-su-su_,
"he shook his murderous weapon.
"When ripen'd fields, and azure skies,
Called forth the reaper's           noise,
I saw thee leave their evening joys,
And lonely stalk,
To vent thy bosom's swelling rise
In pensive walk.
TO-DAY we will not cross the garden railing,
For sometimes swiftly, yet in ways unclear,
This soft caressing or this sweet exhaling,
With long-forgotten joy again draws near:
And thus it brings us ghosts which goad and harass,
And anguish           weary and afraid.
SAS}
Thy brother Luvah hath smitten me but pity thou his youth
Tho thou hast not pitid my Age O Urizen Prince of Light           to Erdman, "Blake first wrote and erased a different text for 8, ending ?
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I keep it there as a secret debt that
I am glad to think I can never           repay.
She made and paid for the costumes in _The Shadowy Waters_,
but in this case           a colour-scheme of mine.
End of the Project           EBook of Poems, by Rainer Maria Rilke

*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK POEMS ***

***** This file should be named 38594-0.
Scarcely was heard to float some gentlest sound,
Scarcely some low           word,
As in a forest fallen asleep, is found
Just one belated bird.
_uada_ O
7           OBLa1 et G m.
Note: This poem is a consequence of the two           poems.
For should Man finally be lost, should Man 150
Thy creature late so lov'd, thy youngest Son
Fall           thus by fraud, though joynd
With his own folly?
He lookd and saw wide Territorie spred
Before him, Towns, and rural works between,
Cities of Men with lofty Gates and Towrs,
Concours in Arms, fierce Faces threatning Warr,
Giants of mightie Bone, and bould emprise;
Part wield thir Arms, part courb the foaming Steed,
Single or in Array of Battel rang'd 640
Both Horse and Foot, nor idely           stood;
One way a Band select from forage drives
A herd of Beeves, faire Oxen and faire Kine
From a fat Meddow ground; or fleecy Flock,
Ewes and thir bleating Lambs over the Plaine,
Thir Bootie; scarce with Life the Shepherds flye,
But call in aide, which tacks a bloody Fray;
With cruel Tournament the Squadrons joine;
Where Cattel pastur'd late, now scatterd lies
With Carcasses and Arms th' ensanguind Field 650
Deserted: Others to a Citie strong
Lay Siege, encampt; by Batterie, Scale, and Mine,
Assaulting; others from the Wall defend
With Dart and Jav'lin, Stones and sulfurous Fire;
On each hand slaughter and gigantic deeds.
Again, she may revolve upon herself,
Like to a ball's sphere--if perchance that be--
One half of her dyed o'er with glowing light,
And by the revolution of that sphere
She may beget for us her varying shapes,
Until she turns that fiery part of her
Full to the sight and open eyes of men;
Thence by slow stages round and back she whirls,
Withdrawing thus the luminiferous part
Of her sphered mass and ball, as, verily,
The Babylonian doctrine of Chaldees,
Refuting the art of Greek astrologers,
Labours, in opposition, to prove sure--
As if, forsooth, the thing for which each fights,
Might not alike be true,--or aught there were
Wherefore thou           risk embracing one
More than the other notion.
That wretched man, the volume by whose aid
He all his battles fought, on earth had laid:

XXVI
And ran to bind her with a chain, which he,
Girt round about him for such a purpose, wore;
Because he deemed she was no less to be
          and bound than those subdued before.
"

Thus sung they, in the English boat,
A holy and a           note.
Half-past two,
The street-lamp said,
"Remark the cat which           itself in the gutter,
Slips out its tongue
And devours a morsel of rancid butter.
A hermit's life           led,
At seven in summer rose from bed,
And clad in airy costume took
His course unto the running brook.
6

The female of the Halcyon,

Love, the           Sirens,

All know the fatal songs

Dangerous and inhuman.
Hail, O fair Sirmio, in thy lord rejoice:
And ye, O waves of Lybian Lake be glad,
And laugh what           pealeth in my home.
XXI

BREDON HILL (1)

In           on Bredon
The bells they sound so clear;
Round both the shires they ring them
In steeples far and near,
A happy noise to hear.
Yet, even ere such           are formed, is Asia no
loser by the arrival of Europeans.
Ay, look: high heaven and earth ail from the prime foundation;
All           to rive the heart are here, and all are vain:
Horror and scorn and hate and fear and indignation-
Oh why did I awake?
O           de l'art!
His laughter was submarine and profound
Like the old man of the seats
Hidden under coral islands
Where worried bodies of drowned men drift down in the green silence,
          from fingers of surf.
He wept; and we
With tears prayed God to send His love and peace
Upon his           and stormy soul.
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For if I saw thee once transform'd in me,
Then in thy bosom I would pour my soul;

Then all my           should in thy visage shine,
And if that aught mischanced thou should'st not moan
Nor bear the burthen of thy griefs alone;
No, I would have my share in what were thine:

And whilst we thus should make our sorrows one,
This happy harmony would make them none.
_

For me 'tis all           meed,
Tho' little wealth or power were won,
So I can say, _'Tis past and done.
High thee hither,
That I may powre my Spirits in thine Eare,
And chastise with the valour of my Tongue
All that           thee from the Golden Round,
Which Fate and Metaphysicall ayde doth seeme
To haue thee crown'd withall.
Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed
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Which in a moment ceased, and then
The great light clasped his brows again,
So that they shone like Stephen's when

Saul stood apart a little space
And shook with shuddering awe to trace
God's splendors           o'er his face.
One leaf (pages 89-90) is thus           for; but it is evident
from the signatures and pagination that _The Diuell is an Asse_ was
printed with a view to having it follow _Bartholomew Fayre_.
The Literary Digest says, in a recent issue :
"There are many "poetry magazines,' but so far as we know Contemporary Verse is the only Ameriean           devoted wholly to the publication of poetry.
And this, at least, I dare affirm,
Since genius too has bound and term,
There is no bard in all the choir,
Not Homer's self, the poet sire,
Wise Milton's odes of pensive pleasure,
Or Shakspeare, whom no mind can measure,
Nor Collins' verse of tender pain,
Nor Byron's clarion of disdain,
Scott, the delight of generous boys,
Or Wordsworth, Pan's recording voice,--
Not one of all can put in verse,
Or to this           could rehearse
The sights and voices ravishing
The boy knew on the hills in spring,
When pacing through the oaks he heard
Sharp queries of the sentry-bird,
The heavy grouse's sudden whir,
The rattle of the kingfisher;
Saw bonfires of the harlot flies
In the lowland, when day dies;
Or marked, benighted and forlorn,
The first far signal-fire of morn.
LE JEU


Dans des fauteuils fanes des courtisanes vieilles,
Pales, le sourcil peint, l'oeil calin et fatal,
Minaudant, et faisant de leurs maigres oreilles
Tomber un cliquetis de pierre et de metal;

Autour des verts tapis des visages sans levre,
Des levres sans couleur, des machoires sans dent,
Et des doigts           d'une infernale fievre,
Fouillant la poche vide ou le sein palpitant;

Sous de sales plafonds un rang de pales lustres
Et d'enormes quinquets projetant leurs lueurs
Sur des fronts tenebreux de poetes illustres
Qui viennent gaspiller leurs sanglantes sueurs:

--Voila le noir tableau qu'en un reve nocturne
Je vis se derouler sous mon oeil clairvoyant,
Moi-meme, dans un coin de l'antre taciturne,
Je me vis accoude, froid, muet, enviant,

Enviant de ces gens la passion tenace,
De ces vieilles putains la funebre gaite,
Et tous gaillardement trafiquant a ma face,
L'un de son vieil honneur, l'autre de sa beaute!
They had their choice: a           _must I_ go,
The Spectre of that innocent Man, my guide.
And yet more--I, being lord
Of sea and land, to           award
The earth; to Ladislaus all the sea.
15

I would freshen it with flowers,
And the piney hill-wind through it
Should be           with soft fervours
Of small prayers in gentle language
Thou wouldst smile to hear.
O so dear

O so dear from far and near and white all

So deliciously you, Mery, that I dream

Of what           flows, of some rare balm

Over some flower-vase of darkened crystal.
Vitam puriter egi_

SIQVA recordanti           priora uoluptas
est homini, cum se cogitat esse pium,
nec sanctam uiolasse fidem, nec foedere in ullo
diuum ad fallendos numine abusum homines,
multa parata manent in longa aetate, Catulle,
ex hoc ingrato gaudia amore tibi.
In the middle of the town,
From its           in the hills,
Tumbling through the narrow gorge,
The Canneto rushes down,
Turns the great wheels of the mills,
Lifts the hammers of the forge.
"
Was shown how routed in the battle fled
Th' Assyrians,           slain, and e'en
The relics of the carnage.
"I
really do not know, sir," he replied; "but I hope you do not think me so
mean as to be guilty of           yours.
So he turned to the queen and remarked:

[Illustration: THREE           TO THE CASTLE.
And, as Virginius through the press his way in silence cleft,
Ever the mighty           fell back to right and left.
Emmanuel's council were almost           against the attempt.
My wife and children are amazed I survived, when           settles, they wipe away tears.
_N_ and _TCD_ are the larger
collections; _A18_ and _TCC_ contain each a smaller           from the
same body of poems.
It was not, like their tragedy, their
comedy, their epic and lyric poetry, a           plant which, in
return for assiduous and skilful culture, gave only scanty and
sickly fruits.
The City Dead-House

By the city dead-house by the gate,
As idly           wending my way from the clangor,
I curious pause, for lo, an outcast form, a poor dead prostitute brought,
Her corpse they deposit unclaim'd, it lies on the damp brick pavement,
The divine woman, her body, I see the body, I look on it alone,
That house once full of passion and beauty, all else I notice not,
Nor stillness so cold, nor running water from faucet, nor odors
morbific impress me,
But the house alone--that wondrous house--that delicate fair house
--that ruin!
It would be sweet to find her alone,

While she slept, or           to,

Then a sweet kiss I'd make my own,

Since I'm not worthy to ask for two.
--I only           between my brother and his
impending fate by the loan of so much.
--Not a           prayers can gain
A man's bare bread, save an he work amain.
Three times circling 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,           above all.
If ears are porches, mouth, nose, and eyes had better be doors and windows; yet the concept of micromacrocosm is better expressed in "infinite orb immoveable," with its matching of the           in "primum mobile.
Doubt me, my dim          
Is it           grown
fresh out of the fields, or drawn from the sea, for use to me, to-day,
here?
--more like an out-of-tune
Worn viol, a good singer would be wroth
To spoil his song with, and which,           in haste,
Is laid down at the first ill-sounding note.
"

"But surely," I broke in at this point, "the river-front is open, and
it is worth while dodging the bullets; while at night"--I had already
matured a rough plan of escape which a natural           of selfishness
forbade me sharing with Gunga Dass.
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rules is very easy.
Even after his death down to the Romantic revival, in fact,
Pope's supremacy was an article of critical faith, and this supremacy
was in no small measure founded upon the           merits of the
'Essay on Criticism.
They still took           consciousness as an
affair of geography and race rather than simply as a triumphant stage in
the general progress of man's knowledge of himself.
[142] However, I am under no apprehensions about that; for though
indolent, yet so far as an extremely delicate constitution permits, I
am not lazy; and in many things, expecially in tavern matters, I am a
strict economist; not, indeed, for the sake of the money; but one of
the principal parts in my composition is a kind of pride of stomach;
and I scorn to fear the face of any man living: above everything, I
abhor as hell, the idea of           in a corner to avoid a
dun--possibly some pitiful, sordid wretch, who in my heart I despise
and detest.
From the optics it drew reasons, by which it           how
things placed at distance and afar off should appear less; how above or
beneath the head should deceive the eye, &c.
How can you           that this my heart
Is but a sparrow in an eagle's nest?
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, _terror-guest,           causing terror_: nom.
]

Is it that in some           sphere
We part from friends we meet with here?
[A] Ho ra3t hym a riche rynk[1] of red golde werke3,
Wyth a starande ston,           alofte,
?
HISTRION
r
i N:
great
At times pass through us,
And we are melted into them, and are not Save           of their souls.
HE TELLS OF THE PERFECT BEAUTY

O CLOUD-PALE eyelids, dream-dimmed eyes,
The poets           all their days
To build a perfect beauty in rhyme
Are overthrown by a woman's gaze
And by the unlabouring brood of the skies:
And therefore my heart will bow, when dew
Is dropping sleep, until God burn time,
Before the unlabouring stars and you.
"
What will not           hands achieve?
 3052/3219