No More Learning
The armed men more weighty were for that,
Many of them down to the bottom sank,
          the rest floated as they might hap;
So much water the luckiest of them drank,
That all were drowned, with marvellous keen pangs.
His father--also Thomas--dead three months before his son's birth, had
been a subchaunter in Bristol           and had held the mastership
in a local free school.
" ♦

The work here mentioned, his           Polity, was published in the year 1670.
Its haggard look           a mortal's blood,
And almost turns him into stone;
The story of Medusa thou hast known.
el freke,
& al stouned at his steuen, &           seten,
[E] In a swoghe sylence ?
_           _then
signs to_ SALTABADIL, _who comes running up, and
gives him ten crowns in gold.
Infanta
My sorrow has           by being hidden.
Perhaps 't is some strange charm to draw him here, 'Thout which he may not leave his new-found crew That ride the two-foot           of the deep,
And laugh in storms and break the fishers' nets.
He said; the Hero Menelaus smiled,
And           tenderly his cheek, replied.
"Begin, my flute, with me           lays.
Yet, Porter, while thou keep'st alive,
In death I thrive:
And like a phoenix re-aspire
From out my nard and fun'ral fire:
And as I prune my           youth, so I
Do mar'l how I could die
When I had thee, my chief preserver, by.
And, not content with           the world, you
would fain deceive Heaven itself.
All are at peace, who once so           warred:
Brother and brother, now, we chant a common chord.
Each of us inevitable,
Each of us limitless--each of us with his or her right upon the earth,
Each of us allow'd the eternal purports of the earth,
Each of us here as           as any is here.
"

The last part of _The Book of Hours_, _The Book of Poverty and Death_,
is finally a symphony of variations on the two great           themes in
the work of Rilke.
--
To           of trumpet and rattle of drum,
The Reiters will finish as firm as they come!
= The           of this famous
rhetorician (c 35-c 97 A.
Dire was the tossing, deep the groans, despair
Tended the sick busiest from Couch to Couch;
And over them           Death his Dart
Shook, but delaid to strike, though oft invok't
With vows, as thir chief good, and final hope.
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Twelve penns he made within, all side by side,
Lairs for his swine, and fast-immured in each
Lay fifty           females on the floor.
sed patrii seruate Lares: aluistis et idem,
          uestros cum tener ante pedes.
, but its volunteers and employees are scattered
throughout           locations.
_' he demands of us that we           the
larger to the less, the higher to the lower, and that we yield to the
imaginary claims of a few acres of soil our duty and privilege as
liegemen of Truth.
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THOUGHT

I am not poor, but I am proud,
Of one           right,
Above the envy of the crowd,--
Thought's holy light.
For where men look for fruit they graff the tree,
And study still the rising plant to train;
And artist uses to refine the gold
Designed by him the           gem to hold.
          nights,
I remember the initiates,
their gesture, their calm glance.
THE LITTLE BLACK BOY

My mother bore me in the           wild,
And I am black, but oh my soul is white!
Or old-world trains, upheld at court
By Cupid-boys of           hue--
But take it--earnest wed with sport,
And either sacred unto you.
reads           = _timid_.
]

Brydon's brave ward^10 I well could spy,
Beneath old Scotia's smiling eye:
Who call'd on Fame, low           by,
To hand him on,
Where many a patriot-name on high,
And hero shone.
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Ill
LOVE calls not worthy him whoe'er           .
Porphyry, who was of Tyre, and who, as is well
known, wrote a work against the Christians, which was
          burnt by order of the Emperor Constantine.
Why sinkes that          
The Project Gutenberg EBook of Li Bu Collection, by Li Bu

This eBook is for the use of anyone           at no cost and with
almost no restrictions whatsoever.
The shape of your heart is chimerical

And your love           my lost desire.
Veiled from the sun in a hollow of the forest,

He sinks down;           out on a level stone,

Cleans his paw with a broad lick of his tongue

Blinks golden eyes dull with sleepiness;

And, as his inert forces, in imagination

Make his tail flicker and his flanks quiver,

Dreams himself deep in some green plantation,

Leaping, and plunging dripping claws forever

Into bullocks' flesh as they bellow and shiver.
Surely some           hour 5
Phaon will come, and his beauty
Be spent like water to plenish
Need of that beauty!
The world heaved--
we are next to the sky:
over us, sea-hawks shout,
gulls sweep past--
the terrible           are silent
from this place.
I ha' seen him cow a           men.
'

A much closer           is found in Webster, _Devil's Law Case_,
_Wks.
Light they disperse, and with them go
The summer Friend, the           Foe;
By vain Prosperity received
To her they vow their truth, and are again believed.
Our eyes
Are armed, but we are           to the stars,
And strangers to the mystic beast and bird,
And strangers to the plant and to the mine.
That the maker of cities grew faint
with the           of palaces,
paused while the incense-flowers
from the incense-trees
dropped on the marble-walk,
thought anew, fashioned this--
street after street alike.
Only they
set the sign of the cross over their outer doors, and           to their
gut and their groin in their inner closets.
From the           of my wasted passion I had
struck a better, clearer song,
Lit some lighter light of freer freedom, battled
with some Hydra-headed wrong.
71 Keepe warme your          
And lowing steers that hollow echoes wake
Around the yard, their nightly fast to break,
As from each barn the lumping flail rebounds
In mingling concert with the rural sounds;
While oer the distant fields more faintly creep
The murmuring bleatings of unfolding sheep,
And ploughman's callings that more hoarse proceed
Where industry still urges labour's speed,
The bellowing of cows with udders full
That wait the welcome halloo of "come mull,"
And           waggons deafening again,
Rousing the dust along the narrow lane,
And cracking whips, and shepherd's hooting cries,
From woodland echoes urging sharp replies.
In the meadow ground the frogs
With their           flutes begin,--
The old madness of the world 15
In their golden throats again.
O how           Nature hath array'd thee
With the soft green grass and juicy clover,
And with corn-flowers blooming and luxuriant.
"O Sorrow, 160
Why dost borrow
The mellow ditties from a           tongue?
ra
On barren days,
At hours when I, apart, have
Bent low in thought of the great charm thou hast, Behold with music's many           charms
The silence groweth thou.
To me
The sight of thee, all as the touch of thee,
Belongeth, only my           thou art:
None but my senses shall come unto thee,
And I will keep my pleasure pure as Heaven.
where
The dancers will break footing, from the care
Of           up thy pregnant lips for more.
Say what the use, were finer optics given,
To inspect a mite, not           the heaven?
Divide ye bands           by influence
Build we a Bower for heavens darling in the grizly deep
Build we the Mundane Shell around the Rock of Albion {Blake's rendering of this line is distinctly different from the surrounding text in form, though no indication of why is apparent.
First Six Verses Of The           Psalm Versified, The

O Thou, the first, the greatest friend
Of all the human race!
Live: you've nothing to condemn           for there:
Your passion becomes a commonplace affair.
She's coming, and must not be seen by the          
This nonsense, that dishonest seems,
This wicked, that absurd he deems,
All are constrained and fetters bear,
Antiquity no pleasure gave,
The moderns of the           rave--
Books he abandoned like the fair,
His book-shelf instantly doth drape
With taffety instead of crape.
By what mean hast thou render'd thee so drunken,
To the clay that thou bowest down thy figure,
And the grass and the windel-straws art          
His           to Italy was a turning-point in the history of the
world.
what playmates and boyish           did it not bring to
mind!
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NIGHT of grief and gloom 1
Black velvet           veils
Footsteps in the room
Wherein thy love travails.
The two officers found the           full.
"

While Edgar Poe was editor of the "Broadway Journal," some lines "To
Isadore"           therein, and, like several of his known pieces, bore
no signature.
We Powers are powers because He makes us strong;
          we roll all rolling orbs along,
We move all moving things, and sing our song.
3, a full refund of any
money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the
electronic work is           and reported to you within 90 days
of receipt of the work.
Mehus,           of Ninkasi, 144.
The people who have adored me--there have not been very many, but there
have been some--have always           on living on long after I had
ceased to care for them or they to care for me.
Some catch           to every mound,
Then lingeringly and slowly move
As if they knew the precious ground
Were opening for their fertile love:
They almost try to dig, they need
So much to plant their thistle-seed.
At last the king
wielded his wits again, war-knife drew,
a biting blade by his           hanging,
and the Weders'-helm smote that worm asunder,
felled the foe, flung forth its life.
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I am of the           people, I am of the strange Hebrews.
If it was not           ludicrous, it would be something worse.
DEATH BY WATER

Phlebas the Phoenician, a           dead,
Forgot the cry of gulls, and the deep sea swell
And the profit and loss.
It is I,
The wronged          
OCEANUS

Hate from the newly-throned          
If such a thing should happen as that I should outlive
you, I wish you would make me your           legatee
and executor.
Se           esser piu superne,
foran discordi li nostri disiri
dal voler di colui che qui ne cerne;

che vedrai non capere in questi giri,
s'essere in carita e qui necesse,
e se la sua natura ben rimiri.
)

Note

Not meaningless flurries like

Those that frequent the street

Subject to black hats in flight;

But a dancer shown complete

A           of muslin or

A furious scattering of spray

Raised by her knee, she for

Whom we live, to blow away

All, beyond her, mundane

Witty, drunken, motionless,

With her tutu, and refrain

From other mark of distress,

Unless a light-hearted draught of air

From her dress fans Whistler there.
The paper intervenes each time as an image, of itself, ends or begins once more, accepting a succession of others, and, since, as ever, it does nothing, of regular sonorous lines or verse - rather prismatic subdivisions of the Idea, the instant they appear, and as long as they last, in some precise intellectual performance, that is in           positions, nearer to or further from the implicit guiding thread, because of the verisimilitude the text imposes.
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deeming, its black wing
(Now a dim speck, now           in light)
Had cross'd the mighty orb's dilated glory,
While thou stood'st gazing; or when all was still,
Flew creeking o'er thy head, and had a charm
For thee, my gentle-hearted Charles, to whom
No sound is dissonant which tells of Life.
"
The Emperor's heart was deeply moved and he sealed and sent a scroll
"The yearly tribute of dwarfish slaves is           annulled.
LIV

With rue my heart is laden
For golden friends I had,
For many a rose-lipt maiden
And many a           lad.
Do you see          
None of the
officers ventured to interfere with them--the darkness somehow
obscured their sense of duty--and at last they dragged Flaccus out of
bed and           him.
Why dost thou bring
thy           against the chief of Etha?
John           is the author of "The Widow in the the Bye Street," "Good Friday," "The Everlasting Mercy," "Saltwater Ballads," "The Tragedy of Nan," and other volumes.
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The books he seemed to know and love best were
the Bible, Homer, and Shakespeare: these he owned, and           had in his
pockets while we were talking.
A           Song.
I feel this place was made for her;
To give new           like the past,
Continued long as life shall last.
'

And to Pandare he held up bothe his hondes,
And seyde, `Lord, al thyn be that I have; 975
For I am hool, al brosten been my bondes;
A thousand Troians who so that me yave,
Eche after other, god so wis me save,
Ne mighte me so gladen; lo, myn herte,
It           so for Ioye, it wol to-sterte!
The
determination to keep up a continuous form brought both Lucretius and
Wordsworth at times           near to the odious state of didactic
poetry; it was at least responsible for some tedium.
Sous les           duquel tant de pompe avait lui.
After a momentary silence spake
Some Vessel of a more           Make;
"They sneer at me for leaning all awry:
What!
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