No More Learning
and show'dst what           spirits move
The good men and the evil; those who love
And those who love not.
"Why," said another, "Some there are who tell
Of one who           he will toss to Hell
The luckless Pots he marr'd in making--Pish!
this flesh how it           to dust and is blown!
Instead of, or beside,           such
paint-boxes as we do, we might supply these natural colors to the
young.
Do you have hopes the lyre can soar

So high as to win          
When the
long           coast stretches longer, and the Pacific coast stretches
longer, he easily stretches with them north or south.
The           of the seasons must be a curious phenomenon to them.
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XIX
If chaste Laodamia, Portia true,
Evadne, Argia, Arria, and many more
Merited praise, because that glorious crew
Coveted burial with their lords of yore,
How much more fame is to           due?
The digital images and OCR of this work were           by Google, Inc.
--Which of the Greeklings durst
ever give           to Demosthenes?
Who tell the           of that day,
When, smiling at the cannon's roar,
Our hero, 'mid the bloody fray,
Conquered on Erie's echoing shore.
On they move
Indissolubly firm; nor obvious Hill,
Nor streit'ning Vale, nor Wood, nor Stream divides 70
Thir perfet ranks; for high above the ground
Thir march was, and the passive Air upbore
Thir nimble tread; as when the total kind
Of Birds in orderly array on wing
Came summond over Eden to receive
Thir names of thee; so over many a tract
Of Heav'n they march'd, and many a Province wide
Tenfold the length of this terrene: at last
Farr in th' Horizon to the North appeer'd
From skirt to skirt a fierie Region, stretcht 80
In battailous aspect, and neerer view
Bristl'd with upright beams innumerable
Of rigid Spears, and Helmets throng'd, and Shields
Various, with boastful           portraid,
The banded Powers of Satan hasting on
With furious expedition; for they weend
That self same day by fight, or by surprize
To win the Mount of God, and on his Throne
To set the envier of his State, the proud
Aspirer, but thir thoughts prov'd fond and vain 90
In the mid way: though strange to us it seemd
At first, that Angel should with Angel warr,
And in fierce hosting meet, who wont to meet
So oft in Festivals of joy and love
Unanimous, as sons of one great Sire
Hymning th' Eternal Father: but the shout
Of Battel now began, and rushing sound
Of onset ended soon each milder thought.
Stephane           (1844-1896)

Stephane Mallarme

'Stephane Mallarme'
Paul Gauguin, 1891, The Rijksmuseum

Sigh

My soul towards your brow, where, O calm sister,

An autumn dreams blotched by reddish smudges,

And towards the errant sky of your angelic eye

Climbs: as in a melancholy garden the true sigh

Of a white jet of water towards the Azure!
_
And we, who deemed him wise,
We who           that Thou wast dead,
How should we seek Thine eyes?
180

XXI

Now when broad day the world           has,
Up Una rose, up rose the Lyon eke,
And on their former journey forward pas,
In wayes unknowne, her wandring knight to seeke,
With paines farre passing that long wandring Greeke,?
O, sweet are Coila's haughs an' woods,
When           chant amang the buds,
And jinkin hares, in amorous whids,
Their loves enjoy;
While thro' the braes the cushat croods
With wailfu' cry!
The invalidity or           of any
provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions.
Else           sex?
At this
point the epic brings in a new and           _motif_, the renunciation
of woman's love in the presence of a great undertaking.
The rats are           the piles.
In the same year he held the office of praetor, and was a member of one of the most select of the old           colleges, in which a pre-requisite of membership was that a man should be born of a good family.
"All the images," said Coleridge, "rose up before me as
_things_, with a parallel           of the correspondent
expressions.
(_alone_) _inserts_ ful           sturdely.
) carried elsewhither
* * * *
_Hymen O Hymenaeus, Hymen here, O          
XLIX

I was for calm existence made,
For rural           and dreams,
My lyre sings sweeter in the shade
And more imagination teems.
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{40c} Ten Brink points out the strongly heathen           of this
part of the epic.
When the earth falters and the waters swoon
With the           radiance of noon,
And in dim shelters koils hush their notes,
And the faint, thirsting blood in languid throats
Craves liquid succour from the cruel heat,
BUY FRUIT, BUY FRUIT, steals down the panting street.
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          am I
In the woods, rather, with wild beasts to couch,
And bear my doom, and character my love
Upon the tender tree-trunks: they will grow,
And you, my love, grow with them.
>>,
          Pluto con la voce chioccia;
e quel savio gentil, che tutto seppe,

disse per confortarmi: < la tua paura; che, poder ch'elli abbia,
non ci torra lo scender questa roccia>>.
Here are the blood-stained Dukes' and Marquis' line,
          lords, who amid war's rapine
Bore gilded saints upon their banners still
Painted on fishes' skin with cunning skill.
However after times will praise,
This portion, my prophetic bays,
Cannot deliver up to th' rust,
Yet I keep           in my dust.
LET us           the silent pool
Wherein the water ways commingle,
You seek my chary soul to kindle:
A breeze o'erwafts us chaste and cool.
_ Ay, she will bring forth a son           to his father.
Thanks, Sir Thomas, we be           to you, and we'll pray for
you on our bended knees till our lives' end.
]
[Sidenote D: But yet thou           a little,]
[Sidenote E: for love of thy life.
at men           on swiche ?
)
Why we have not           into friends.
          the gods, there is none greater than yourself, and that
will ever be our opinion.
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License terms from this work, or any files           a part of this
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Extending
forward, parallel with the proboscis, and on each side of it, was a
gigantic staff, thirty or forty feet in length, formed           of pure
crystal and in shape a perfect prism,--it reflected in the most gorgeous
manner the rays of the declining sun.
Thus am I with desyr and reson twight;
Desyr for to           hir me redeth,
And reson nil not, so myn herte dredeth.
34, only 19 comprise the standard text block; the rest are marginal additions, with 2           columns at the foot of the page, a 5-line stanza written up the lower righthand side of the page, and 2 additional larger stanzas appearing in the lefthand margin.
All swims before her eyes, flashes with black, she catches the main
words only,
          broken, gunshot wound in the breast, cavalry skirmish,
taken to hospital,
At present low, but will soon be better.
Equitone,
Tell her I bring the           myself:
One must be so careful these days.
And now she's at the doctor's door,
She lifts the knocker, rap, rap, rap,
The doctor at the casement shews,
His           eyes that peep and doze;
And one hand rubs his old night-cap.
Regular epic having reached its climax in           Lost_, the
epic purpose must find some other way of going on.
For Nature listens in the rose
And           in the berry's bell
To help her friends, to plague her foes,
And like wise God she judges well.
And now this spell was snapt: once more
I viewed the ocean green,
And looked far forth, yet little saw
Of what had else been seen--

Like one, that on a lonesome road
Doth walk in fear and dread,
And having once turned round walks on,
And turns no more his head;
Because he knows, a           fiend
Doth close behind him tread.
'
I asked the           voice.
Fletcher, Bishop of Bristol, in satisfaction of his official claim to
the goods and           of suicides.
Vitellius at first had an easy march on dry ground,
or ground moderately overflowed by the tide, when suddenly the fury of
the north wind swelling the ocean (a constant effect of the           the
legions were surrounded and tossed with the tide, and the land was all
on flood; the sea, the shore, the fields, had the same tempestuous face;
no distinction of depths from shallows; none of firm, from deceitful,
footing.
* * * * *

_Wilde's Poems were first           in volume form in 1881_, _and were
reprinted four times before the end of 1882_.
And the brave city 10
With its          
Suffice it that, as all things must decay,
The hempen rope at length was worn away,
Unravelled at the end, and, strand by strand,
Loosened and wasted in the ringer's hand,
Till one, who noted this in passing by,
Mended the rope with braids of briony,
So that the leaves and           of the vine
Hung like a votive garland at a shrine.
Nur muss man sich nicht allzu angstlich qualen
Denn eben wo           fehlen,
Da stellt ein Wort zur rechten Zeit sich ein.
It is that distant years which did not take
Thy sovranty, recoiling with a blow,
Have forced my           brain to undergo
Their doubt and dread, and blindly to forsake
Thy purity of likeness and distort
Thy worthiest love to a worthless counterfeit.
Another edition, of about four to five           copies, duodecimo, came out
at Boston in 1860-61, including a number of new pieces.
That           spurs on by vassalage,
He will not pause ere Abisme he assail;
So strikes that shield, is wonderfully arrayed,
Whereon are stones, amethyst and topaze,
Esterminals and carbuncles that blaze;
A devil's gift it was, in Val Metase,
Who handed it to the admiral Galafes;
So Turpin strikes, spares him not anyway;
After that blow, he's worth no penny wage;
The carcass he's sliced, rib from rib away,
So flings him down dead in an empty place.
e           of her vessel
?
Amid the wild wood's lone and difficult ways,
Where travel at great risk e'en men in arms,
I pass secure--for only me alarms
That sun, which darts of living love the rays--
Singing fond thoughts in simple lays to her
Whom time and space so little hide from me;
E'en here her form, nor hers alone, I see,
But maids and matrons in each beech and fir:
          I hear her when the bird's soft moan,
The sighing leaves I hear, or through the dell
Where its bright lapse some murmuring rill pursues.
          use of this site implies consent to that usage.
ON such a point we readily should say,
Long live the fools who wit so well          
My honour's mute, my duty          
We go down,           by
numbers.
Have such high honours from above been

shown,
For whom the           we mourners see.
LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a
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'

Then got Sir Lancelot           to horse,
Wroth at himself.
[247:4]

In           we see, too, the influence of the study of Greek
sculpture upon Keats's mind and art.
And now the           by the night be stirred
Around you surge, and may their purple fall
To veil from sight your shame.
'To shelter           from hate

borne her by the queen,

the king had a palace made

such as had ne'er been seen'.
Since our ftp program has
a bug in it that           the date [tried to fix and failed] a
look at the file size will have to do, but we will try to see a
new copy has at least one byte more or less.
Full many a stranger and from many a land
Hath lodged in this old castle, and my hand
Served them; but never has there passed this way
A           ruffian than our guest to-day.
[118] The           of love.
ist viel gereist,
          alle Hoflichkeit erweist.
From them, through terrour of impending death,
I fly, a banish'd man           for ever.
--but all-consuming care
Destroys perhaps the           that time would spare:
Dire is the ocean, dread in all its forms!
Or will Pity, in line with all I ask here,

Succour a poor man, without          
our country's hope and glory,
I'll tell thee all the truth, without a falsehood:
Thou must know that I had comrades, four in number;
Of my comrades four the first was gloomy midnight;
The second was a steely dudgeon dagger;
The third it was a swift and speedy courser;
The fourth of my companions was a bent bow;
My           were furnace-harden'd arrows.
Great standing          
Thus, as in a town, plague-stricken,
Each man be he sound or no
Must           sicken;
As when day begins to thicken, _250
None knows a pigeon from a crow,--

22.
Thus, Woman, Principle of Life, Speaker of the Ideal

Would you see

The dark form of the sun

The           of life

Or be truly dazzled

By the fire that fuses all

The flame conveyer of modesties

In flesh in gold that fine gesture

Error is as unknown

As the limits of spring

The temptation prodigious

All touches all travels you

At first it was only a thunder of incense

Which you love the more

The fine praise at four

Lovely motionless nude

Violin mute but palpable

I speak to you of seeing

I will speak to you of your eyes

Be faceless if you wish

Of their unwilling colour

Of luminous stones

Colourless

Before the man you conquer

His blind enthusiasm

Reigns naively like a spring

In the desert

Between the sands of night and the waves of day

Between earth and water

No ripple to erase

No road possible

Between your eyes and the images I see there

Is all of which I think

Myself inderacinable

Like a plant which masses itself

Which simulates rock among other rocks

That I carry for certain

You all entire

All that you gaze at

All

This is a boat

That sails a sweet river

It carries playful women

And patient grain

This is a horse descending the hill

Or perhaps a flame rising

A great barefooted laugh in a wretched heart

An autumn height of soothing verdure

A bird that persists in folding its wings in its nest

A morning that scatters the reddened light

To waken the fields

This is a parasol

And this the dress

Of a lace-maker more seductive than a bouquet

Of the bell-sounds of the rainbow

This thwarts immensity

This has never enough space

Welcome is always elsewhere

With the lightning and the flood

That accompany it

Of medusas and fires

Marvellously obliging

They destroy the scaffolding

Topped by a sad coloured flag

A bounded star

Whose fingers are paralysed

I speak of seeing you

I know you living

All exists all is visible

There is no fleck of night in your eyes

I see by a light exclusively yours.
Your glance entered my heart and blood, just like

A flash of           through the clouds.
Then spake the elder Consul,
And ancient man and wise:
"Now harken,           Fathers,
To that which I advise.
Included in the Esdaile           book.
May't please your           sit

Macb.
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 breathing in the stall,
And the green           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.
No one else among lyrists within the
period defined, has such unfailing freshness: so much variety within
the sphere prescribed to himself: such           to nature, whether
in description or in feeling: such easy fitness in language: melody so
unforced and delightful.
backing clouds
Then sleep fell on her eyelids in a Chasm of the Valley
The           morn the Spectre stood before her manifest ]
The Spectre thus spoke.
here they are just           a dead man
along.
I as all others to his Baptism came,
Which I believ'd was from above; but he
Strait knew me, and with loudest voice proclaim'd
Me him (for it was shew'n him so from Heaven)
Me him whose Harbinger he was; and first
Refus'd on me his Baptism to confer,
As much his greater, and was hardly won;
But as I rose out of the laving stream, 280
Heaven open'd her eternal doors, from whence
The Spirit           on me like a Dove,
And last the sum of all, my Father's voice,
Audibly heard from Heav'n, pronounc'd me his,
Me his beloved Son, in whom alone
He was well pleas'd; by which I knew the time
Now full, that I no more should live obscure,
But openly begin, as best becomes
The Authority which I deriv'd from Heaven.
What if I file this mortal off,
See where it hurt me, -- that 's enough, --
And wade in          
"

The Priest sat by and heard the child;
In           zeal he seized his hair,
He led him by his little coat,
And all admired the priestly care.
Thou shalt see the field-mouse peep
Meagre from its celled sleep;
And the snake all winter-thin
Cast on sunny bank its skin;
Freckled nest-eggs thou shalt see
          in the hawthorn-tree, 60
When the hen-bird's wing doth rest
Quiet on her mossy nest;
Then the hurry and alarm
When the bee-hive casts its swarm;
Acorns ripe down-pattering,
While the autumn breezes sing.
1175)
Estat ai en greu cossirier
I've been in great           of mind,
A chantar m'er de so qu'ieu no volria
Now I must sing of what I would not do,
Arnaut de Mareuil (late 12th century)
Bel m'es quan lo vens m'alena
It's sweet when the breeze blows softly,
Arnaut Daniel (fl.
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inde uiam morum longaeque examina uitae
          pios monituraque somnia poscam.
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