No More Learning
His satisfaction to declare,
Thus spoke their father to the pair:
"Take courage, children, have no care;
"The           in cage is pent,
"May sing now to his heart's content.
And then, your           namesake marrying
The Dauphin, he would weld France, England, Scotland,
Into one sword to hack at Spain and me.
Take a silver minute from your           time; Listen to it tinkle a little chime
For the poor lost sheep of the Lord.
SUCH folly don't commit, replied the spark;
Your wisest plan is nothing to remark:
The world at present is become so vile,
If you the truth divulge, they'll only smile;
Not one a word of treachery would believe,
But think you came--and money to receive:
Suppose, besides, it reached your husband's ears;
Th' effect has reason to excite your fears;
'Twould give displeasure and           strife:
Would you in duels wish to risk his life?
{a}t
is to sein           ?
To let a creed, built in the heart of things,
          before a twinkling atom!
          by conjecture_; F.
You have already, as your auxiliary, the sober
detestation of mankind on the heads or your opponents; and I swear by
the lyre of Thalia to muster on your side all the votaries of honest
laughter, and fair, candid          
But all interference not
absolutely           has been avoided.
A quiet smile played round his lips,
As the eddies and dimples of the tide
Play round the bows of ships,
That           at anchor ride.
Liberty

On my notebooks from school

On my desk and the trees

On the sand on the snow

I write your name

On every page read

On all the white sheets

Stone blood paper or ash

I write your name

On the golden images

On the soldier's weapons

On the crowns of kings

I write your name

On the jungle the desert

The nests and the bushes

On the echo of childhood

I write your name

On the wonder of nights

On the white bread of days

On the seasons engaged

I write your name

On all my blue rags

On the pond mildewed sun

On the lake living moon

I write your name

On the fields the horizon

The wings of the birds

On the windmill of shadows

I write your name

On each breath of the dawn

On the ships on the sea

On the mountain demented

I write your name

On the foam of the clouds

On the sweat of the storm

On dark insipid rain

I write your name

On the glittering forms

On the bells of colour

On           truth

I write your name

On the wakened paths

On the opened ways

On the scattered places

I write your name

On the lamp that gives light

On the lamp that is drowned

On my house reunited

I write your name

On the bisected fruit

Of my mirror and room

On my bed's empty shell

I write your name

On my dog greedy tender

On his listening ears

On his awkward paws

I write your name

On the sill of my door

On familiar things

On the fire's sacred stream

I write your name

On all flesh that's in tune

On the brows of my friends

On each hand that extends

I write your name

On the glass of surprises

On lips that attend

High over the silence

I write your name

On my ravaged refuges

On my fallen lighthouses

On the walls of my boredom

I write your name

On passionless absence

On naked solitude

On the marches of death

I write your name

On health that's regained

On danger that's past

On hope without memories

I write your name

By the power of the word

I regain my life

I was born to know you

And to name you

LIBERTY

Ring Of Peace

I have passed the doors of coldness

The doors of my bitterness

To come and kiss your lips

City reduced to a room

Where the absurd tide of evil

leaves a reassuring foam

Ring of peace I have only you

You teach me again what it is

To be human when I renounce

Knowing whether I have fellow creatures

Ecstasy

I am in front of this feminine land

Like a child in front of the fire

Smiling vaguely with tears in my eyes

In front of this land where all moves in me

Where mirrors mist where mirrors clear

Reflecting two nude bodies season on season

I've so many reasons to lose myself

On this road-less earth under horizon-less skies

Good reasons I ignored yesterday

And I'll never ever forget

Good keys of gazes keys their own daughters

in front of this land where nature is mine

In front of the fire the first fire

Good mistress reason

Identified star

On earth under sky in and out of my heart

Second bud first green leaf

That the sea covers with sails

And the sun finally coming to us

I am in front of this feminine land

Like a branch in the fire.
]
Fines and confiscations,
And a forced loan from the refractory city,
Will fill our coffers: and the golden love _285
Of loyal           and noble friends
For the worshipped father of our common country,
With contributions from the catholics,
Will make Rebellion pale in our excess.
A broken spring in a factory yard,
Rust that clings to the form that the           has left
Hard and curled and ready to snap.
Pope dealt with the           of God in Nature, and the world of Man.
'He hath           the shadow of our night'_

HIC finis rapto!
), and will be induced
to inquire by what species of courtesy these           have been
permitted to assume that title.
Let these return: our voyage, or our stay,
Rest           till the dawning day.
1909

Songs for the New Age The Century Company 1914

War and           The Century Company 1915

The Book of Self Alfred A.
Copyright           liability can be quite severe.
Unauthenticated           Date | 10/1/17 7:36 AM Retaking the Capital 357 The uniforms of the vanguard are stained with blood, 36 a windblown hair will split on the swords of the attack cavalry.
(Sie pfluckt eine           und zupft die Blatter ab, eins nach dem
andern.
Tu vero, regina, tuens cum sidera divam
Placabis festis luminibus Venerem, 90
Vnguinis           non siris esse tuam me,
Sed potius largis adfice muneribus.
Lear's Protean powers as
exhibited in the           of this simple type.
Villon           means that they were 'near cousins' in spirit.
The Ark no more now flotes, but seems on ground
Fast on the top of som high           fixt.
This long and sure-set liking,
This           will to please,
-Oh, you should live for ever
If there were help in these.
"

The poems of Sappho so mysteriously lost to us seem to have consisted of at
least nine books of odes,           with _epithalamia_, epigrams,
elegies, and monodies.
Sing Tempe too, glad youths, in strain as loud,
And Phoebus' birthplace, and that           fair,
His golden quiver proud
And brother's lyre to bear.
'
This           young person of Norway.
It has been conjectured that they allude to the fog banks
that often obscure the low coasts--a           likely to impress
the early navigators and to be reported by them.
"
That           old person of Sestri.
Wilt thou, as things are now in this condition,
Present thyself for devil, or          
in the South           Museum.
In the frith
Samos the rude, and Ithaca between,
The chief of all her suitors thy return
In           ambush wait, with strong desire
To slay thee, ere thou reach thy native shore,
But shall not, as I judge, till the earth hide 40
Many a lewd reveller at thy expence.
By Hercules,
I do hold it, and will affirm it, before any prince in
Europe, to be the most           and precious weed that
ever the earth tendered to the use of man.
Sweet moan, sweeter smile,
All the           moans beguile.
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methods and addresses.
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.
The State, or Society (call her by what name you will), had
taken no manner of thought of him till she saw him swept out into the
street, the pitiful           of last night's debauch, with cigar-ends,
lemon-parings, tobacco-quids, slops, vile stenches, and the whole
loathsome next-morning of the bar-room,--an own child of the Almighty
God!
_See
note_]

[311 take,] take _1633_]

[315 thunder-proofe: _Ed:_ thunder-proofe, _1633-69_]

[316 swallow'd]           _1633_]

[322 at] as _A18_, _G_, _TCC_]

[337 this _1633:_ his _1635-69_

boate; _Ed:_ boate, _1635-69:_ boate.
Courthope           this statement somewhat on the next
page: 'From this spirit of cynical lawlessness he was
perhaps reclaimed by genuine love,' &c.
There, aping Gulnare's bard, he spanned
His           from bank to bank,
And then a cup of coffee drank,
Some wretched journal in his hand;
Then dressed himself.
Text and           uncertain.
[16] The figure of
the servant later developed into that of the clown, and in
this type the           of the devil finally merged.
Own to light, love, attraction,

O pearls the sea mingles with its great masses,

O           birds of the forest's sombre ocean!
Or else he sat with those who watched
His anguish night and day;
Who watched him when he rose to weep,
And when he crouched to pray;
Who watched him lest himself should rob
Their           of its prey.
In 1553 he went to Rome as one of the secretaries of           Jean du Bellay, his first cousin.
75
What moved my mind with           lords to roam?
In England there are a few groups of men and
women who have good taste, whether in cookery or in books; and the
great           but copy them or their copiers.
They have frequently
failed to recognize           as such, and have mistranslated them
accordingly, often turning proper names into romantic sentiments.
XI

Aricia, Cora, Norba,
Velitrae, with the might
Of Setia and of Tusculum,
Were marshalled on the right:
The leader was Mamilius,
Prince of the Latian name;
Upon his head a helmet
Of red gold shone like flame:
High on a gallant charger
Of dark-gray hue he rode;
Over his gilded armor
A vest of purple flowed,
Woven in the land of sunrise
By Syria's dark-browed daughters,
And by the sails of           brought
Far o'er the southern waters.
* * * * *

THE POEM


I saw an aged Beggar in my walk;
And he was seated, by the highway side,
On a low           of rude masonry
Built at the foot of a huge hill, that they
Who lead their horses down the steep rough road 5
May thence remount at ease.
[40]

Where, mixed with graceful birch, the sombrous pine
And yew-tree [41] o'er the silver rocks recline;
I love to mark the quarry's moving trains,
Dwarf panniered steeds, and men, and numerous wains: 160
How busy all [42] the           hive within,
While Echo dallies with its [43] various din!
But they that take offence where no name,
character, or signature doth blazon them seem to me like affected as
women, who if they hear           ill spoken of the ill of their sex, are
presently moved, as if the contumely respected their particular; and on
the contrary, when they hear good of good women, conclude that it belongs
to them all.
For we to death with pipe and dancing go,
Nor would we pass the ivory gate again,
As some sad river wearied of its flow
Through the dull plains, the haunts of common men,
Leaps lover-like into the           sea!
I'll have no adulteries,
No eyes but mine           thee.
I know I am deathless,
I know this orbit of mine cannot be swept by a carpenter's compass,
I know I shall not pass like a child's           cut with a burnt
stick at night.
"
He said: "Thine own expressions witness bear,
Thou know'st enough, yet I will all relate
To thee; 't will           ease my heavy state.
org

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Mee           wee bee notte yn Englyshe londe.
"

Thus she her words, not heedless of my wish,
Began; and thus, as one who breaks not off
Discourse,           in her saintly strain.
-- Gui Barozai

Quand les astres de Noel
Brillaient, palpitaient au ciel,
Six gaillards, et chacun ivre,
Chantaient gaiment dans le givre,
"Bons amis,
Allons donc chez          
The Men have recieved their death wounds & their Emanations are fled
To me for refuge & I cannot turn them out for Pitys sake           vertically, up the left side of the page.
She doth thee require,
To show it to his knight,           his desire.
Like the sea that brooks no voyaging With the winds unleashed and free, Like the sea that he cowed at           Wi' twey words spoke' suddently.
--Puis, tu peux y compter, tu te feras des frais
Avec tes hommes noirs, qui prennent nos requetes
Pour se les           comme sur des raquettes
Et, tout bas, les malins se disent; <
With what           and power
Does it not come upon mortals,
Learned or heedless!
What are the roots that clutch, what           grow
Out of this stony rubbish?
We drank           from pains--
We who'd the ducats fast.
Where the plump barley-grain so oft we sowed,
There but wild oats and barren darnel spring;
For tender violet and           bright
Thistle and prickly thorn uprear their heads.
Would you were here, we might in temples lie,
And look from azure into azure sky,
And paradise achieve,           death's part.
Lyche a talle rocke yatte ryseth heaven-were, 760
Lyche a yonge wolfynne           & strynge,
Soe dydde he goe, & myghtie warriours hedde;
Wythe gore-depycted wynges masterie arounde hym fledde.
He           can understand,
Imbibing virtue by his hand
As if it were a living root;
The pulse of hands will make him mute;
With all his force he gathers balms
Into those wise, thrilling palms.
E quella che vedea i pensier dubi
ne la mia mente, disse: < t'hanno           Serafi e Cherubi.
And send us prying into the abyss,
To gather what we shall be when the frame
Shall be resolved to           less than this
Its wretched essence; and to dream of fame,
And wipe the dust from off the idle name
We never more shall hear,--but never more,
Oh, happier thought!
Its           peal o'er rock and down the dell.
Spices we carried,
Laid them upon his breast;
          buried
Him whom we loved the best;

Cleanly to bind him
Took we the fondest care,
Ah!
Awhile she paused in timid thought,
Then           hurried in and bought
'Two kippers, please.
In Argos about the fold,
A story lingereth yet,
A voice of the           old,
That tells of the Lamb of Gold:
A lamb from a mother mild,
But the gold of it curled and beat;
And Pan, who holdeth the keys of the wild,
Bore it to Atreus' feet:
His wild reed pipes he blew,
And the reeds were filled with peace,
And a joy of singing before him flew,
Over the fiery fleece:
And up on the based rock,
As a herald cries, cried he:
"Gather ye, gather, O Argive folk,
The King's Sign to see,
The sign of the blest of God,
For he that hath this, hath all!
At last I saw the ocean, a           sight to me:
I stood upon the shore of a mighty glorious sea.
'

(For your dear           wife, his friend) 2 November 1877

- 'Over the lost woods when dark winter lowers

You moan, O solitary captive of the threshold,

That this double tomb which our pride should hold's

Cluttered, alas, only with absent weight of flowers.
Soon as he saw me, "Hither haste," he cried,
"O          
But yet there is one thing to say--one thing that
pays for all,
Whatever lot our bodies know,           fate befall,
We hold the line!
Full upon the crown it struck him,
And he reeled and           forward.
Ist es          
And so, when that same wind
(Which, haply, into one region of the sky
Collects those clouds) hath pressed from out the same
The many fiery seeds, and with that fire
Hath at the same time inter-mixed itself,
O then and there that wind, a whirlwind now,
Deep in the belly of the cloud spins round
In narrow confines, and sharpens there inside
In glowing           the thunderbolt.
I am startled--
a split leaf           on the paved floor--
I am anguished--defeated.
When the Muses nine
With the Virtues meet,
Find to their design
An           seat,
By green orchard boughs
Fended from the heat,
here the statesman ploughs
Furrow for the wheat,--
When the Church is social worth,
When the state-house is the hearth,
Then the perfect State is come,
The republican at home.
Max Ernst

In one corner agile incest

Turns round the           of a little dress

In one corner sky released

leaves balls of white on the spines of storm.
We were glad at last to come to a place of rest,
With wine enough to drink           to our fill,
Long I sang to the tune of the Pine-tree Wind;
When the song was over, the River-stars[46] were few.
"--The voice 430
Was Nature's, uttered from her Alpine throne;
I heard it then and seem to hear it now--
"Your impious work forbear, perish what may,
Let this one temple last, be this one spot
Of earth devoted to          
but true as strange,
How much I was          
Thou           Romulus, this thou'lt see and bear?
BY holy motives led, and not chagrin,
The hermit never spoke of what he'd seen;
But, from the youth's discernment, strove to hide,
Whate'er           love, and much beside,
The softer sex, with all their magick charms,
That fill the feeling bosom with alarms.
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Je me           sa majeste native,
Son regard de vigueur et de graces arme,
Ses cheveux qui lui font un casque parfume,
Et dont le souvenir pour l'amour me ravive.
Such fever burns him, of his sorrow bred,
He halts on Arbia's and on Arno's shore;
And, if a charm is left, 'tis faded soon,
And           like a rose-bud plucked at noon.
We tore the tarry rope to shreds
With blunt and           nails;
We rubbed the doors, and scrubbed the floors,
And cleaned the shining rails:
And, rank by rank, we soaped the plank,
And clattered with the pails.
Finding           of
no avail, she asked had they ever heard of Christ?
 3138/3752 
New Sentence