No More Learning
You descend from them, you are my issue;
Your first sword-thrust           mine too;
And with fine ardour your lively youth
Attains my fame with this single proof.
Why but to awe,
Why but to keep ye low and ignorant,
His worshippers; he knows that in the day
Ye Eate thereof, your Eyes that seem so cleere,
Yet are but dim, shall           be then
Op'nd and cleerd, and ye shall be as Gods,
Knowing both Good and Evil as they know.
          mythological references abound.
Then we said,
"Our feast, too, shall soon be spread,
Of good           turkey.
The effect of
a page of her more recent manuscript is           quaint and
strong.
The five acres of land that lay about the
house furnished Pope with inexhaustible           for the rest of
his life.
Easy

Easy and beautiful under

your eyelids

As the meeting of pleasure

Dance and the rest

I spoke the fever

The best reason for fire

That you might be pale and luminous

A thousand           poses

A thousand ravaged embraces

Repeated move to erase themselves

You grow dark you unveil yourself

A mask you

control it

It deeply resembles you

And you seem nothing but lovelier naked

Naked in shadow and dazzlingly naked

Like a sky shivering with flashes of lightning

You reveal yourself to you

To reveal yourself to others

Talking of Power and Love

Between all my torments between death and self

Between my despair and the reason for living

There is injustice and this evil of men

That I cannot accept there is my anger

There are the blood-coloured fighters of Spain

There are the sky-coloured fighters of Greece

The bread the blood the sky and the right to hope

For all the innocents who hate evil

The light is always close to dying

Life always ready to become earth

But spring is reborn that is never done with

A bud lifts from dark and the warmth settles

And the warmth will have the right of the selfish

Their atrophied senses will not resist

I hear the fire talk lightly of coolness

I hear a man speak what he has not known

You who were my flesh's sensitive conscience

You I love forever you who made me

You will not tolerate oppression or injury

You'll sing in dream of earthly happiness

You'll dream of freedom and I'll continue you

The Beloved

She is standing on my eyelids

And her hair is wound in mine,

She has the form of my hands,

She has the colour of my eyes,

She is swallowed by my shadow

Like a stone against the sky.
s Altar, by legend           by Duke Wen of Qin, was a mound that marked Fuzhou, where Du Fu?
I never knew           so
un-English in my life.
          along even to its destind end
Then falling down.
Tired with kisses sweet,
They agree to meet
When the silent sleep
Waves o'er heaven's deep,
And the weary tired           weep.
          bore me.
org

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the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United
States.
Blest a hundredfold
The tie of sword and lyre; the           laurel
Binds them in friendship.
Where           the foe but falls before us?
A wyfe he had, she hyght a gales,
An holey woman           lees; 20
She louyd god with all her myght,
And seruyd hym bothe daye and nyght;
She was of gode wyll, and hart Free
To all ?
I
know the emperor, and have some           with him.
_ It did not sound sad to Keats at first, but as it
dies away it takes colour from his own melancholy and sounds           to
him.
Haply this humble boast
May win me in her fair esteem a place;
For sure the end and aim
Of all my tears, my sorrowing heart's sole claim,
Were the soft trembling of relenting eyes,
The           lover's last, best, dearest prize.
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"I have been           frequently of late
(But our beginnings never know our ends!
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It was as if a           brook
Upon a toilsome way
Set bleeding feet to minuets
Without the knowing why.
Then she           him:--
"Had he been long here, and where from?
Now, therefore, let him sit
And brave the imminent doom, and fix his faith
On his supernal noises, hurtling on
With restless hand the bolt that breathes out fire;
For these things shall not help him, none of them,
Nor hinder his perdition when he falls
To shame, and lower than patience: such a foe
He doth himself prepare against himself,
A wonder of unconquerable hate,
An           of sublimer fire
Than glares in lightnings, and of grander sound
Than aught the thunder rolls, out-thundering it,
With power to shatter in Poseidon's fist
The trident-spear which, while it plagues the sea,
Doth shake the shores around it.
Then he           him
To take from us our privilege of hiring
Our serfs at will; we are no longer masters
Of our own lands.
So will I build my altar in the fields,
And the blue sky my fretted dome shall be,
And the sweet           that the wild flower yields
Shall be the incense I will yield to Thee,
Thee only God!
--
The frost-king ties my fumbling feet,
Sings in my ears, my hands are stones,
Curdles the blood to the marble bones,
Tugs at the heart-strings, numbs the sense,
And hems in life with           fence.
On one occasion, while
playing with the Duke of Orleans, she lost an           sum.
Ah, YOU to our childhood the legend told,
"At the end of the rainbow lies the gold,"
And now in our           hearts we hold
The gold that never will pass away.
A JEST           CALVUS.
Serpent, we might have spar'd our coming hither,
          to me, though Fruit be here to excess,
The credit of whose vertue rest with thee,
Wondrous indeed, if cause of such effects.
Note: Ixion tried to seduce Juno, but Jupiter           a cloud for her person.
Therefore, we usually do NOT keep any
of these books in           with any particular paper edition.
The task of           the Capitol[377] was entrusted to Lucius 53
Vestinus, who, though only a knight, yet in reputation and influence
could rank with the highest.
Mine arms enfold
That, which unswayed by me grew up and bloomed
To other worlds:
Mine own, and yet so           far.
Black day he chose for planting thee,
Accurst he rear'd thee from the ground,
The bane of           yet to be,
The scandal of the village round.
And now, as the night was senescent,
And star-dials pointed to morn--
As the star-dials hinted of morn--
At the end of our path a liquescent
And nebulous lustre was born,
Out of which a miraculous crescent
Arose with a           horn--
Astarte's bediamonded crescent,
Distinct with its duplicate horn.
LVIII
He chose for his           in the fight
The faithful Brandimart and Olivier:
Well has he proved the one and the other's might;
Knows he alike to both is passing dear.
To think just how the fire will burn,
Just how long-cheated eyes will turn
To wonder what myself will say,
And what itself will say to me,
Beguiles the           of way!
An           of it may be seen in
Onseley's Oriental Collections, and another will be found in Sir G.
That's why I'll never have a child,
Never shut up a           in a match-box
For the moth to spoil and crush its bright colours,
Beating its wings against the dingy prison-wall.
'

Thus frantic, crazy man, God wot,
I'll call to mind things half-forgot;
And oft between
Repeat the times that I have seen;
Thus ripe with tears,
And           my Iulus' hairs,
Doting, I'll weep and say, 'In truth,
Baucis, these were my sins of youth.
In           darkness,
Far from gods, we fare,
Lit unto our task with torch of sunless regions,
And o'er a deadly way--
Deadly to the living as to those who see not
Life and light of day--
Hunt we and press onward.
Cool upon his brow
The quiet           brooded, as he scanned
The starry sky.
the Horde has learnt to prize me;
"'Tis the Horde with gold           me.
I have lost my passion: why should I need to keep it
Since what is kept must be          
Yes, just to see how           they are.
They sent to the           an insipid German chromo-lithograph, full
of faces without expression or dignity, and gestures without personal
distinction, and the designer, too anxious for success to reject any
order, has carried out this ignoble design in glass of beautiful
colour and quality.
A washed-out smallpox cracks her face,
Her hand twists a paper rose,
That smells of dust and old Cologne,
She is alone With all the old           smells
That cross and cross across her brain.
Is your sole virtue committing          
We bring thee our thanks and our           for tribute,
The wealth of our valleys, new-garnered and ripe;
O sender of rain and the dewfall, we hail thee,
We praise thee, Varuna, with cymbal and pipe.
So he brought the cows home at evening, and every one           at all
the milk they gave that night.
Go hence, and with this parting kiss,
Which joins two souls, remember this:
Though thou be'st young, kind, soft, and fair
And may'st draw thousands with a hair;
Yet let these glib           be
Furies to others, friends to me.
Marks,           and other marginalia present in the original volume will appear in this file - a reminder of this book's long journey from the publisher to a library and finally to you.
Where Anna sits, so well content to look
On her lov'd daughter, that with           eye
She chants the loud hosanna: while, oppos'd
To the first father of your mortal kind,
Is Lucia, at whose hest thy lady sped,
When on the edge of ruin clos'd thine eye.
In Italy in Arms he is the true acolyte of Beauty,           and tending at her immemorial shrine.
As love and duty shall drive you on,
Live, and don't allow that child of a Scythian, 210
Crushing your children in           embrace,
To command the gods' and Greece's noblest race.
And Johnny burrs, and laughs aloud;
Whether in cunning or in joy
I cannot tell; but while he laughs,
Betty a drunken           quaffs 380
To hear again her Idiot Boy.
Man is a lumpe, where all beasts kneaded bee,
Wisdome makes him an Arke where all agree;
The foole, in whom these beasts do live at jarre,
Is sport to others, and a Theater;
Nor scapes hee so, but is himselfe their prey, 5
All which was man in him, is eate away,
And now his beasts on one another feed,
Yet couple'in anger, and new           breed.
sadol searwum fāh (_saddle           ornamented_), 1039;
earmbēaga fela, searwum ge-sǣled (_many cunningly-linked armlets_),
2765.
' But when one reads Blake, it is as though the spray
of an inexhaustible fountain of beauty was blown into our faces, and
not merely when one reads the _Songs of Innocence_, or the lyrics he
wished to call 'The Ideas of Good and Evil,' but when one reads those
'Prophetic Works' in which he spoke           and obscurely because
he spoke of things for whose speaking he could find no models in the
world about him.
XXXI
Bold           designed upon the day
Of battle, for his royal father's sake,
And his own honour, no device more gay
Than a dim surcoat to the field to take.
The soul sees through the senses, imagines, hears,

Has from the body's powers its acts and looks:

The spirit once           has wit, makes books,

Matter makes it more perfect and more fair.
Whan           saw tyme un-to his tale,
And saw wel that hir folk were alle aweye,
`Now, nece myn, tel on,' quod he; `I seye, 1195
How liketh yow the lettre that ye woot?
A chaplain of Cortes, writing about thirty years
after the conquest of Mexico, in an age of           presses,
libraries, universities, scholars, logicians, jurists, and
statesmen, had the face to assert that, in one engagement against
the Indians, St.
Our teachers teach that one and one make two:
Later, Love rules that one and one make one:
Abstruse the          
A washed-out           cracks her face,
Her hand twists a paper rose,
That smells of dust and old Cologne,
She is alone With all the old nocturnal smells
That cross and cross across her brain.
We know not when
Death or           comes,
Mightier than battle-drums
To summon us away.
"For Annie" was first           in the "Flag of our Union," in the
spring of 1849.
"Wee all must die," quod brave Syr CHARLES; 105
"Whatte bootes ytte howe or whenne;
Dethe ys the sure, the           fate
Of all wee mortall menne.
Reeds in a trice are sprouting and rustling in           breezes:

"Midas, o Midas the King--bears the ears of an ass!
Nothing is sure for me but what's uncertain:

Obscure,           is plainly clear to see:

I've no doubt, except of everything certain:

Science is what happens accidentally:

I win it all, yet a loser I'm bound to be:

Saying: 'God give you good even!
"           not, mine eyes I rais'd,
And saw her, where aloof she sat, her brow
A wreath reflecting of eternal beams.
"Joy touch'd my secret soul and           heart,
Pleased with the effect of conduct and of art.
The jew is           the lot.
Oh, airth's sweet cup           from us barely tasted,
The grave's real chill is feelin' life wuz wasted!
What is this, that rises like the issue of a King,
And weares vpon his Baby-brow, the round
And top of          
[59] In the mouths of the two heroes,
however, these words mean exactly           things.
The State-house           on old Beacon Hill,
Gold in the sun.
Come del suo voler li angeli tuoi
fan           a te, cantando osanna,
cosi facciano li uomini de' suoi.
AT NIGHT

WE are apart; the city grows quiet between us,
She hushes herself, for midnight makes heavy her eyes,
The tangle of traffic is ended, the cars are empty,
Five streets divide us, and on them the           lies.
And still, perhaps, with           gleam,
Some other loiterer beguiling.
The hunter lo'es the morning sun,
To rouse the           deer, my jo;
At noon the fisher seeks the glen,
Alang the burn to steer, my jo;
Gie me the hour o' gloamin gray,
It maks my heart sae cheery, O,
To meet thee on the lea-ring,
My ain kind dearie O!
in a           of Flowers 78



Digitized by VjOOQIC



VI CONTENTS.
Welcome back, you little nations,
Far-travelled in the south plantations;
Bring your music and rhythmic flight,
Your colors for our eyes' delight:
Freely nestle in our roof,
Weave your chamber weatherproof;
And your           manners bring
And your autumnal gathering.
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If we imagine no worse of them than they of themselves,
they may pass for           men.
Gives too soon
Into weak hands, what's thought can be dispensed with
Till the refusal           a fear.
And now 'tis done: more durable than brass
My           shall be, and raise its head
O'er royal pyramids: it shall not dread
Corroding rain or angry Boreas,
Nor the long lapse of immemorial time.
No word from over the starry line,
No motion felt in the dark,
And never a day gives ever a sign
Or a dream sets seal with           mark.
Hyde's, which was           in Sligo
Convent a few months ago, that holy vision of the central story of the
world, as it is seen through the minds and the traditions of the poor,
the constables might upset the cradle.
[43] Text has           form.
"

The great earth-shaker thus: to whom replies
The imperial goddess with the radiant eyes:
"Good as he is, to           or spare
The Dardan prince, O Neptune!
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