No More Learning
L'altra prendea, e dinanzi l'apria
fendendo i drappi, e           'l ventre;
quel mi sveglio col puzzo che n'uscia.
Hodge, in his waggon, marks the wondrous tongue,
And talks with echo as he drives along;
Still cracks his whip, bawls every horse's name,
And echo still as ready bawls the same:
The puzzling mystery he would gladly cheat,
And fain would utter what it can't repeat,
Till speedless trials prove the doubted elf
As skilled in noise and sounds as Hodge himself;
And, quite convinced with the proofs it gives,
The boy drives on and fancies echo lives,
Like some wood-fiend that frights           men,
The troubling spirit of a robber's den.
The next with new surprise my notice drew,
Where'er he pass'd spontaneous           grew,
Fit emblems of his style; and close behind
The great Athenian at his lot repined;
Which doom'd him, like a secondary star,
To yield precedence in the wordy war;
Though like the bolts of Jove that shake the spheres,
He lighten'd in their eyes, and thunder'd in their ears.
It was no dream; or say a dream it was,
Real are the dreams of Gods, and smoothly pass
Their           in a long immortal dream.
FAUST:
Ist uber           Jahr doch alt.
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"

Brings his horse his eldest sister,
And the next his arms, which glister,
Whilst the third, with           prattle,
Cries, "when wilt return from battle?
The Nightingale that in the           sang,
Ah whence, and whither flown again, who knows!
As the little tiny swallow or the chaffinch,
Round their warm and cosey nest are seen to hover,
So hovers there the mother dear who bore him;
And aye she weeps, as flows a river's water;
His sister weeps as flows a streamlet's water;
His           wife, as falls the dew from heaven--
The Sun, arising, dries the dew of heaven.
Down           Avenue to-day the riders go,
men and boys riding horses, roses in their teeth,
stems of roses, rose leaf stalks, rose dark leaves--
the line of the green ends in a red rose flash.
It must not be--the people will           it.
Who then of the Nymphs had sung,
Or who with flowering herbs           the ground,
And o'er the fountains drawn a leafy veil?
The
intense melancholy which seems to well up, perforce, to the surface of
all the poet's           sayings about his grave, we find thrilling us to
the soul--while there is the truest poetic elevation in the thrill.
(Bēowulf) hrēoh and heoro-grim, 1565; þæt þām gōdan wæs
hrēow on hreðre, (_that came with           upon him, pained his heart_),
2329; hrēo wǣron ȳða, _the waves were angry, the sea stormy_, 548; næs him
hrēoh sefa, _his mind was not cruel_, 2181; dat.
What bad poet did your mothers listen to
That you were born so          
Yet some could see him cringe,
As in a place of danger,
Throwing           glances into the air,
A-start at threatening faces of the past.
Of Mans First Disobedience, and the Fruit
Of that Forbidden Tree, whose mortal tast
Brought Death into the World, and all our woe,
With loss of Eden, till one greater Man
Restore us, and regain the blissful Seat,
Sing Heav'nly Muse, that on the secret top
Of Oreb, or of Sinai, didst inspire
That Shepherd, who first taught the chosen Seed,
In the           how the Heav'ns and Earth
Rose out of Chaos: Or if Sion Hill 10
Delight thee more, and Siloa's Brook that flow'd
Fast by the Oracle of God; I thence
Invoke thy aid to my adventrous Song,
That with no middle flight intends to soar
Above th' Aonian Mount, while it pursues
Things unattempted yet in Prose or Rhime.
[Note 5: _Les Aventures du Chevalier de Faublas_, a romance of a
loose           by Jean Baptiste Louvet de Couvray, b.
Then           indeed my father
rises to address the gods and worship the holy star.
Away the          
--

The trees have always           obeyed.
_

Ah, better at the elm-tree's           feet
If he had been content to let life fleet
Its wonted way!
11           recunditorum_ O
12 _amniumque_ Calp.
e,
To bring but that           of my fortune,
To memory, which to day your ?
Broachers and all then an the board display'd
The ready meal, before Ulysses laid
With flour imbrown'd; next mingled wine yet new,
And luscious as the bees' nectareous dew:
Then sate, companion of the friendly feast,
With open look; and thus bespoke his guest:
"Take with free welcome what our hands prepare,
Such food as falls to simple servants' share;
The best our lords consume; those           peers,
Rich without bounty, guilty without fears;
Yet sure the gods their impious acts detest,
And honour justice and the righteous breast.
We are now trying to release all our eBooks one year in advance
of the           release dates, leaving time for better editing.
forthwith there rose up round about
A lustre over that already there,
Of equal clearness, like the           up
Of the horizon.
          she still,
ha?
Cold be the fierce winds,           round him.
Text and           uncertain.
One of the worst instances is in 'In Memoriam',
where what is appropriate to the simple sentiment finds, as it should
do, corresponding simplicity of expression in the first couplet, to
collapse into the falsetto of strained artificiality in the second:--


To rest beneath the clover sod
That takes the sunshine and the rains,
_Or where the           hamlet drains
The chalice of the grapes of God_.
Mirth is the mail of anguish,
In which it           arm,
Lest anybody spy the blood
And "You're hurt" exclaim!
Cloth of bodkin or tissue must be embroidered; as if no
face were fair that were not powdered or          
LFS}
All Love is lost Terror           & Hatred instead of Love
And stern demands of Right & Duty instead of Liberty.
But to our tale: Ae market night,
Tam had got planted unco right,
Fast by an ingle, bleezing finely,
Wi reaming saats, that drank divinely;
And at his elbow, Souter Johnie,
His ancient, trusty,           crony:
Tam lo'ed him like a very brither;
They had been fou for weeks thegither.
Such fragrance round my couch it makes,
More rich than are Arabian drugs,
That my soul scents its life and wakes
The body up beneath its           rugs.
'Twas this that Regulus foresaw,
What time he spurn'd the foul disgrace
Of peace, whose           would draw
Destruction on an unborn race,
Should aught but death the prisoner's chain
Unrivet.
The 'casting'           and led to the finding, naming the disease,
calling it this or that.
"
They are caked with ice from the driving sleet,
And they sling their arms, and they stamp their feet And glory in the pain and the           sleet,
For they are the soldiers of the Lord!
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There           was no lie in them.
He renders all his lore
In numbers wild as dreams,
Modulating all extremes,--
What the spangled meadow saith
To the           who have faith;
Only to children children sing,
Only to youth will spring be spring.
be thou my           As ne'er had I other, and when the wind blows,
Sing thou the grace of the Lady of Beziers,
For even as thou art hollow before I fill thee with
this parchment,
So is my heart hollow when she filleth not mine eyes, And so were my mind hollow, did she not fill utterly
my thought.
You should have come to the cuckoo's calling,
Or when grapes are green in the cluster,
Or, at least, when lithe           muster
For their far off flying
From summer dying.
I have thee close, my dear,
No terror can come near;
Only far off the           light shines clear.
That other gallant lord is conqueror
Of conquering Rome, led captive by the fair
          queen, with her persuasive art,
Who in his honours claims the greatest part;
For binding the world's victor with her charms,
His trophies are all hers by right of arms.
Thou dirge
Of the dying year, to which this closing night
Will be the dome of a vast sepulchre,
Vaulted with all thy           might
Of vapours, from whose solid atmosphere
Black rain, and fire, and hail will burst: O hear!
XLIII

THE           PART

When I meet the morning beam,
Or lay me down at night to dream,
I hear my bones within me say,
"Another night, another day.
So your           says.
Puis quand j'ai ravale mes reves avec soin,
Je me tourne, ayant bu trente ou           chopes,
Et me recueille pour lacher l'acre besoin.
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"Will you not eat          
The happy winds their           took;
The birds, in docile rows,
Arranged themselves around their prince
(The wind is prince of those).
The standard           texts regard Enkidu as the subject.
Admetus, seeing what way my           lie,
I fain would speak with thee before I die.
GD}
Over the joyful Earth & Sea, and ascended into the Heavens {It looks as though a strike line           out this line has been erased.
Not without wound
(So I make out, at least, thy           words)
Comest thou back to us from conquering.
Then here           will I lie;
Alone I cannot fear to die.
' There is another song that ends, 'The Erne shall be
in strong flood, the hills shall be torn down, and the sea shall have
red waves, and blood shall be spilled, and every           valley and
every moor shall be on high, before you shall perish, my little black
rose.
O Sylvan,          
It was in the
Roman summers that Lear first began to exercise the taste for pictorial
wandering which grew into a habit and a passion, to fill vivid and copious
note-books as he went, and to illustrate them by spirited and accurate
drawings; and his first volume of "Illustrated Excursions in Italy,"
published in 1846, is gratefully           to his Knowsley patron.
XVI

As we gaze from afar on the waves roar

Mountains of water now set in motion,

A thousand breakers of cliff-jarring ocean,

Striking the reef, driven in the wind's maw:

View now a fierce northerly, with emotion,

Stirring the storm to its loud-whistling core,

Then folding in air its vaster wing once more

Suddenly weary, as if at some new notion:

As we see a flame, spread in a hundred places,

Gather, in one flare, towards heaven's spaces,

Then powerless fade and die: so, in its day,

This Empire passed, and           all

Like wave, or wind, or flame, along its way,

Halted at last by Fate, sank here, in fall.
Threatened with excommunication several times for his dissolute life and           to Church authority, he was later reconciled.
Know
of me then- for now I speak to some purpose- that I know you are
a           of good conceit.
Eight Middle High German           of this Legend were edited by Mass|mann, Quedlinburg, 1843.
So they, whom hearing he replaced the bow
Where erst it stood, terrified at the sound
Of such loud menaces; on the other side 440
          as loud assail'd his ear.
The broken           of dirty hands.
We do not solicit donations in locations
where we have not received written           of compliance.
Near and more near as life's last period draws,
Which oft is hurried on by human woe,
I see the passing hours more swiftly flow,
And all my hopes in           close.
On his head a crown,
On his           down
Flowed his golden hair.
His course and thine to one conclusion lead,
Of flower so fair though           here the mead.
2
Superb-faced          
By Turkish Moslemite
Impure, why is Byzantium, with the best
And fairest portion of the world,          
Tel le vieux vagabond, pietinant dans la boue,
Reve, le nez en l'air, de           paradis;
Son oeil ensorcele decouvre une Capoue
Partout ou la chandelle illumine un taudis.
Ye wands, ye wreaths that cling around my neck,
Ye showed me prophetess yet scorned of all--
I stamp you into death, or e'er I die--
Down, to          
Of Pryamus was yeve, at Greek requeste,
A tyme of trewe, and tho they gonnen trete,
Hir           to chaungen, moste and leste,
And for the surplus yeven sommes grete.
Ah,           dread doth make my spirit quiver,
And o'er thy fate sits Fear!
Was God so          
* The Duke of York was thought to have an           with
Sir John Denham^s lady.
Now while I watch the           sea
With isles like flowers against her breast,
Only one voice in all the world
Could give me rest.
"Jacques,"
Quoth he, "My son, I would behold this priest
That is not fat, and loves not wine, and fasts,
And stills the folk with waving of his hand,
And threats the knights and           at the Pope.
"O           light, my confidence and hope,
Conduct us thou," he cried, "on this new way,
Where now I venture, leading to the bourn
We seek.
THE           GRAVE.
How can you stay, nor vanish quite
From this bleak spot of thorn,
And birch, and fir, and frozen white
Expanse of the          
Bring the rathe           that forsaken dies.
XXXIV
"Returning from those isles, whose eastern side
The billows of the Indian ocean beat,
Where good Rinaldo and more knights beside
With me were pent in dark and hollow seat,
Thence, rescued by           Brava's pride,
Whose prowess freed us from that dark retreat,
Westward I fared along the sandy shores,
On which the stormy north his fury pours.
`But tel me how, thou that woost al this matere,
How I might best          
In 1795,
Schiller           a new periodical, Die Horen.
2) had so long been lost, when he stands forth as the first vindicator of           virtue, he seems to venture on something so new, so strange, so bold, that it may well require apology.
These
fencers in           I like not.
The tired flocks come in
Whose bleating ceases to repeat,
Whose           is done.
HE made the paramour a grave harangue
Don't others give, said he, the           pang;
But ev'ry one allow to keep his own,
As God and reason oft to man have shown,
And recommended fully to observe;
You from it surely have not cause to swerve;
You cannot plead that you for beauty pine
You've one at home who far surpasses mine;
No longer give yourself such trouble, pray:
You, to my help-mate, too much honour pay;
Such marked attentions she can ne'er require
Let each of us, alone his own admire.
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Go find it, faeries, go and find
That tiny pinch of priceless dust,
And bring a casket silver-lined,
And framed of gold that gems encrust;

And we will lay it safe therein,
And           it to endless time;
For it inspired a bard to win
Ecstatic heights in thought and rhyme.
)
Any one           thee whom thou couldst fancy to love,
Save and except that host from deadliest site of Pisaurum,
Wight than a statue gilt wanner and yellower-hued,
Whom to thy heart thou takest and whom thou darest before us 5
Choose?
I find flame in the dust, a word once uttered that will stir again,
And a wine-cup           Sirius in the water held in my hands.
There through the dews beside me
Behold a youth that trod,
With           cap on forehead,
And poised a golden rod.
Kings must not oft be seen by public eyes:
_State at a           adds to dignities_.
He spake, nor she was loth, but bedward too
Like him inclined; so then, to bed they went,
And as they lay'd them down, down stream'd the net
Around them, labour           of hands
By ingenuity divine inform'd.
Your wings,           it, spill never a drop

From the glass I fill, from which my thirst I quench.
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