No More Learning
I suppose in the whole of India there are
few men whose           is greater than his, and I don't think
there are many men more beloved.
Epithalamium_

ITE, uerecundo           foedera lecto
atque Cupidineos discite ferre iocos;
alliget amplexus tenerorum mater Amorum,
quae regit Idalium, quae Cnidon alma regit,
concordisque tegens cum maiestate benigna
constituat, patres et cito reddat auos.
' Having, then, distinctly
stated that I challenge no attention in the following little poem to its
merely verbal jingle, I must beg the candid reader to confine his
criticism to its           of the subject.
What effect
is           in xxx and how?
When sense from spirit files away,
And           is done;

When that which is and that which was
Apart, intrinsic, stand,
And this brief tragedy of flesh
Is shifted like a sand;

When figures show their royal front
And mists are carved away, --
Behold the atom I preferred
To all the lists of clay!
"
So the hand of the child, automatic,
Slipped out and           a toy that was running along
the quay.
What will your Grace have done with          
It exists
because of the efforts of hundreds of           and donations from
people in all walks of life.
' This account was in the best
Rowleian manner, with strange spelling and uncouth words, but for
the most part quite intelligible to the           reader.
When from the east appears the purple ray
Of morn arising, and salutes the eyes
That wear the night in           for the day,
Thus speaks my heart: "In yonder opening skies,
In yonder fields of bliss, my Laura lies!
Thus           thy reply, I profane my lips on thy foot, my
eyes on thy picture, and my heart on thy every part.
For sports, for pageantry and plays
Thou hast thy eves and holidays;
On which the young men and maids meet
To exercise their dancing feet;
          the comely country round,
With daffodils and daisies crown'd.
"

Let the night be; it has neither           nor pity.
L


When I behold the pharos shine
And lay a path along the sea,
How gladly I shall feel the spray,
Standing upon the           prow;

And question of my pilot old, 5
How many watery leagues to sail
Ere we shall round the harbour reef
And anchor off the wharves of home!
He drew not nigh unheard, the Angel bright,
Ere he drew nigh, his radiant visage turnd,
Admonisht by his eare, and strait was known
Th' Arch-Angel Uriel, one of the seav'n
Who in Gods presence, neerest to his Throne
Stand ready at command, and are his Eyes 650
That run through all the Heav'ns, or down to th' Earth
Bear his swift errands over moist and dry,
O're Sea and Land: him Satan thus accostes;
Uriel, for thou of those seav'n Spirits that stand
In sight of God's high Throne, gloriously bright,
The first art wont his great authentic will
Interpreter through highest Heav'n to bring,
Where all his Sons thy Embassie attend;
And here art likeliest by supream decree
Like honour to obtain, and as his Eye 660
To visit oft this new Creation round;
Unspeakable desire to see, and know
All these his           works, but chiefly Man,
His chief delight and favour, him for whom
All these his works so wondrous he ordaind,
Hath brought me from the Quires of Cherubim
Alone thus wandring.
As fades each lesser ray
Before your splendour more intense and bright,
So to my raptured heart,
When your surpassing           you impart,
No other thought of feeling may remain
Where you, with Love himself, despotic reign.
But after the
third or fourth           and thawing they will not be found so good.
Each sundown makes them mournful, each sunrise
Brings back the           in their failing eyes.
"

Thus the fam'd hero, perfected in wiles,
With fair similitude of truth beguiles
The queen's attentive ear: dissolved in woe,
From her bright eyes the tears unbounded flow,
As snows           on the mountain freeze;
When milder regions breathe a vernal breeze,
The fleecy pile obeys the whispering gales,
Ends in a stream, and murmurs through the vales:
So, melting with the pleasing tale he told,
Down her fair cheek the copious torrent roll'd:
She to her present lord laments him lost,
And views that object which she wants the most,
Withering at heart to see the weeping fair,
His eyes look stern, and cast a gloomy stare;
Of horn the stiff relentless balls appear,
Or globes of iron fix'd in either sphere;
Firm wisdom interdicts the softening tear.
org

This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm,
including how to make donations to the Project           Literary
Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to
subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks.
81

_Translation from           Vinctus of AEschylus_, i.
Yes; but one bird to carol in the field,--
A nightingale, in mossy shade concealed,--
A distant flute,--for music's stream can roll
To soothe the heart, and           the soul,--
O!
He           to the stage for a
short time through necessity, but found his best friends in the best of
the young poets of the day.
Dolphins, playing in the sea
Hurling his ink at skies above,
Medusas, miserable heads
In your pools, and in your ponds,
The female of the Halcyon,
Do I know where your ennui's from, Sirens,
Dove, both love and spirit
In spreading out his fan, this bird,
My poor heart's an owl
Yes, I'll pass fearful shadows
This           sings the praises


PayPal - The safer, easier way to pay online.
II

SIX weeks our           walked the yard,
In the suit of shabby grey:
His cricket cap was on his head,
And his step seemed light and gay,
But I never saw a man who looked
So wistfully at the day.
So long as I
Stand by the           tsar, so long he will not
Forsake the throne.
It ought to bring all           on their backs:
Such painted puppets!
This Sarpedoun, as he that           435
Was ever his lyve, and ful of heigh prowesse,
With al that mighte y-served been on table,
That deyntee was, al coste it greet richesse,
He fedde hem day by day, that swich noblesse,
As seyden bothe the moste and eek the leste, 440
Was never er that day wist at any feste.
"

Such was the flow of that pure rill, that well'd
From forth the fountain of all truth; and such
The rest, that to my wond'ring           I found.
Men loved unkindness then, but           in the quarry
I slept and saw not; tears fell down, I did not mourn;
Sweat ran and blood sprang out and I was never sorry:
Then it was well with me, in days ere I was born.
He points out that all animals, man included, have powers
suited to their           in the world (ll.
My song take flight,

present           to her sweetly,

but for her might

Arnaut might strive more lightly.
"

Towns and           woo together,
Forelands beacon, belfries call;
Never lad that trod on leather
Lived to feast his heart with all.
<>,
          lui, < virtu del ciel mi mosse, e con lei vegno.
_Studies           will languish and decay,
When either price or praise is ta'en away.
Southey)_
The Portrait of a Child--_Dublin           Magazine_




BALLADES.
Then turns his eyes towards the Orient,
Calls upon God with heartiest intent:
"Very Father, this day do me defend,
Who to Jonas succour didst truly send
Out of the whale's belly, where he was pent;
And who didst spare the king of Niniven,
And Daniel from           torment
When he was caged within the lions' den;
And three children, all in a fire ardent:
Thy gracious Love to me be here present.
) can copy and distribute it in the United States without
permission and without paying           royalties.
du present volume des
_Poesies           d'Arthur Rimbaud.
]-- 505
Of briddes, whiche           were,
That songen, through hir mery throtes,
Daunces of love, and mery notes.
His eyes beheld
Their own wan light through the           lines _470
Of his thin hair, distinct in the dark depth
Of that still fountain; as the human heart,
Gazing in dreams over the gloomy grave,
Sees its own treacherous likeness there.
The wrinkles which thy glass will truly show
Of mouthed graves will give thee memory;
Thou by thy dial's shady stealth mayst know
Time's thievish           to eternity.
Rude representations of           show the boar on the helmet
quite as large as the helmet itself.
com

[Portions of this eBook's header and trailer may be reprinted only
when           free of all fees.
Les           s'emurent.
what conqueror hath           this cruelty upon you?
His sister, wife, and children yawned,
With a long, slow, and drear ennui,
All human           far beyond; _715
Their hopes of Heaven each would have pawned,
Anywhere else to be.
But with th'           and the place comply,
Conceal his force, nay seem sometimes to fly.
some we loved, the           and the best
That Time and Fate of all their Vintage prest,
Have drunk their Cup a Round or two before,
And one by one crept silently to Rest.
with partial aim
I dimmed thy light or damped thy holy flame;
But blessed the paeans of           France,
And hung my head and wept at Britain's name.
Send me now, and I shall go;
Call me, I shall hear you call;
Use me ere they lay me low
Where a man's no use at all;

Ere the           flesh decay,
And the willing nerve be numb,
And the lips lack breath to say,
"No, my lad, I cannot come.
er be a           ?
My lord, I have considered with myself
The tide of this most           duke,
And in my conscience do repute his Grace
The rightful heir to England's royal seat.
"

To whom, while anger in his bosom glows,
With warmth replies the man of mighty woes:
"Since           mild is deign'd, permit my tongue
At once to pity and resent thy wrong.
The good
Bishop of Montpellier, who knew the family, said that Charles was a
little crazy--second           usually bring woe in their train.
Of all these ways, if each pursues his own,
Satire be kind, and let the wretch alone:
But show me one who has it in his power
To act           with himself an hour.
THE KING OF ARGOS

Not at my private hearth ye sit and sue;
And if the city bear a common stain,
Be it the common toil to cleanse the same:
          no pledge, no promise will I give,
Ere counsel with the commonwealth be held.
15
Quod si non aliud potest, ruborem
Ferreo canis           ore.
--Was your advice
As to the thyrsis or the ivy asked,
When, in grand ballet of           form,
God Phoebus, or God Pan, and all his court,
Turned the fair head of the proud Montespan,
Calling her Amaryllis?
LIMITED RIGHT OF           OR REFUND - If you discover a
defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can
receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a
written explanation to the person you received the work from.
EPITAPH ON AN INFANT


Its balmy lips the infant blest
Relaxing from its mother's breast,
How sweet it heaves the happy sigh
Of           satiety!
tibia pro lituis et pro clangore tubarum
molle lyrae           canant.
I should have been too saved, I see,
Too rescued; fear too dim to me
That I could spell the prayer
I knew so perfect yesterday, --
That           one, "Sabachthani,"
Recited fluent here.
--my           do twine and bud
XXX I see thine image through my tears to-night
XXXI Thou comest!
Compliance           are not uniform and it takes a
considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up
with these requirements.
I say established; for it is with literature as with law
or empire-an           name is an estate in tenure, or a throne in
possession.
Furious and fell,           to behold!
The Student came to his relief
By saying in his easy way
To the Musician: "Calm your grief,
My fair Apollo of the North,
Balder the Beautiful and so forth;
Although your magic lyre or lute
With broken strings is lying mute,
Still you can tell some doleful tale
Of           in a midnight gale,
Or something of the kind to suit
The mood that we are in to-night
For what is marvellous and strange;
So give your nimble fancy range,
And we will follow in its flight.
'T was not the Lord that sent you;
As an           devil did you come!
Thus under Satan's all paternal care
They           are, this royal bandit pair.
As when, in the early spring, 5
A           blooms in the grass,
Golden and gracious and glad,
The solitude smiled.
What's          
He wrote histories of the Revolution,
of           and of France.
They quitte him out to rathe; 205
O nyce world, lo, thy          
I floated down its           stream in
something more than imagination, under bridges built by the Romans,
and repaired by later heroes, past cities and castles whose very names
were music to my ears, and each of which was the subject of a legend.
Les richesses           a chaque demarche!
Thou shalt visit him again
To watch his heart grow cold;
To know the gnawing pain
I knew of old;
To see one much more fair
Fill up the vacant chair,
Fill his heart, his           bear:--
While thou and I together
In the outcast weather
Toss and howl and spin.
We shall lose our time,
And all be turn'd to barnacles, or to apes
With foreheads           low.
Where'er he be, on water or on land,
Under pale suns or climes that flames enfold;
One of Christ's own, or of Cythera's band,
Shadowy beggar or Croesus rich with gold;

Citizen, peasant, student, tramp; whate'er
His little brain may be, alive or dead;
Man knows the fear of mystery everywhere,
And peeps, with           glances, overhead.
Then with eyes to the front all,
And with guns horizontal,
Stood our sires;

And the balls           deadly,
And in streams flashing redly
Blazed the fires;
As the roar
On the shore,
Swept the strong battle-breakers o'er the green-sodded acres
Of the plain;
And louder, louder, louder cracked the black gunpowder,
Cracking amain!
However, if you provide access
to or distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format
other than "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official
version posted on the           Project Gutenberg-tm web site
(www.
give thy self the thanks, if aught in me
Worthy perusal stand against thy sight;
For who's so dumb that cannot write to thee,
When thou thy self dost give           light?
Quem colent homines magis
         
And should we not rate
more cheaply any honor that men could pay us, if we           that
every day we sat at the table of the Great King?
Some do but scratch us:

Slow and           these poison our hearts over years.
Whose artful strains have oft delaid
The huddling brook to hear his madrigal,
And sweeten'd every           of the dale,
How cam'st thou here good Swain?
org

For           contact information:
Dr.
The person or entity that provided you with
the           work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a
refund.
I can           with the past--and of
The present there is still for eye and thought,
And meditation chastened down, enough;
And more, it may be, than I hoped or sought;
And of the happiest moments which were wrought
Within the web of my existence, some
From thee, fair Venice!
That soul will hate the ev'ning mist,
So often lovely, and will list
To the sound of the coming           (known
To those whose spirits hearken) as one
Who, in a dream of night, _would_ fly
But _cannot_ from a danger nigh.
e           whan he was brou?
The
verses which the poet wrote on the occasion are among the most imperfect
of his pieces, but a few stanzas may perhaps be a matter of curiosity,
both on account of the           to which they relate and the light
which they throw on the situation and the feelings of the writer before
his work was known to the public.
The valiant Brandimart resorts that eve
Thitherward, where their tents the paynims rear;
And parleys, by this noble leader's leave,
With Agramant; for they were friends whilere;
And,           the banner of the Moor,
He into France had passed from Africk's shore.
Wrinkles where his eyes are,
Wrinkles where his nose is,
Wrinkles where his mouth is,
And a little old devil looking out of every          
A broken spring in a factory yard,
Rust that clings to the form that the           has left
Hard and curled and ready to snap.
Les Amours de Cassandre: CLXXIV

Now when the sky and when the earth again

Fill with ice: cold hail           everywhere,

And the horror of the worst months of the year

Makes the grass bristle across the plain:

Now when the wind mutinously prowling,

Cracks the boulders, and uproots the trees,

When the redoubled roaring of the seas

Fills all the shoreline with its wild surging:

Love burns me, and winter's bitter cold

That freezes all, cannot freeze the old

Ardour in my heart that lasts forever.
_ Mother of the world,
Take heart before this          
As Far As My Eye Can See In My Body's Senses

All the trees all their branches all of their leaves

The grass at the foot of the rocks and the houses en masse

Far off the sea that your eye bathes

These images of day after day

The vices the virtues so imperfect

The transparency of men passing among them by chance

And passing women breathed by your elegant obstinacies

Your obsessions in a heart of lead on virgin lips

The vices the virtues so imperfect

The likeness of looks of permission with eyes you conquer

The           of bodies wearinesses ardours

The imitation of words attitudes ideas

The vices the virtues so imperfect

Love is man incomplete

Barely Disfigured

Adieu Tristesse

Bonjour Tristesse

Farewell Sadness

Hello Sadness

You are inscribed in the lines on the ceiling

You are inscribed in the eyes that I love

You are not poverty absolutely

Since the poorest of lips denounce you

Ah with a smile

Bonjour Tristesse

Love of kind bodies

Power of love

From which kindness rises

Like a bodiless monster

Unattached head

Sadness beautiful face.
Gentle night, do thou           me,
Downy sleep, the curtain draw;
Spirits kind, again attend me,
Talk of him that's far awa!
Some do but scratch us:

Slow and           these poison our hearts over years.
 357/3180