No More Learning

Has it           like a bird?
Numbers of men           with pains unknown.
FROM OMAR KHAYYAM

Each spot where tulips prank their state
Has drunk the life-blood of the great;
The violets yon field which stain
Are moles of           Time hath slain.
But ye, call forth your witness and your proof,
Words strong for justice, fortified by oath;
And I, whoe'er are truest in my town,
Them will I chose and bring, and           charge,
_Look on this cause, discriminating well,
And pledge your oath to utter nought of wrong.
          I see the thousand shrines erected to
Hospitality shining afar in all countries, as well Mahometan and
Jewish as Christian, khans and caravansaries and inns, whither all
pilgrims without distinction resort.
          use of this site implies consent to that usage.
Oftener, heavily,
When love-lorn hours had left me less a child,
I sat           the figures wild
Of o'er-head clouds melting the mirror through.
XL

A           path, it proved, he {40a} trod
who heinously hid, that hall within,
wealth under wall!
365
nam simul ac fessis dederit fors copiam Achiuis
urbis Dardaniae           soluere uincla,
alta Polyxenia madefient caede sepulcra:
quae, uelut ancipiti succumbens uictima ferro,
proiciet truncum summisso poplite corpus.
_Gather ye           while ye may.
To move wild           in the throat of death?
, quod
          ibat Nake ad Diras p.
Thou art--a person of discretion; always
I am glad to commune with thee; and if aught
At any time           me, I endure not
To keep it from thee; and, truth to tell, thy mead
And velvet ale today have so untied
My tongue.
These
were           by the Moors, who would accept of nothing but Ceuta, to
whose vast importance they were no strangers.
" Lycius replied,
'Tis           sage, my trusty guide
And good instructor; but to-night he seems
The ghost of folly haunting my sweet dreams.
_

[16] See letters on           and Romance.
O tried and proved, whose record stands
Lettered in blood too deep to fade,
Take          
My emirs and my cavalry that shook the earth to-day;
My tent, my wide-extending camp, all dazzling to the sight,
Whose watchfires, kindled           beneath the brow of night,
Seemed oft unto the sentinel that watched the midnight hours,
As heaven along the sombre hill had rained its stars in showers?
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Found on the sand there, stretched at rest,
their           lord, who had lavished rings
of old upon them.
Were you given me to lose my          
Yet know thou canst that, even in objects plain,
If thou           not, 'tis just the same
As if 'twere all the time removed and far.
Quickly he carries the girl as she's clad in chemise of coarse linen--

Just as a nursemaid might,           up to her bed.
Latin mortal           word,

Ibis, Nile's native bird.
I'd be a demi-god, kissed by her desire,

And breast on breast,           my fire,

A deity at the gods' ambrosial feast.
" He who believes
that peace is           and spurious, unless it be based upon justice and
liberty, will be proud to battle, if battle he must, for the sake of
those foundations.
"

From the wood a sound is gliding,
Vapours dense the plain are hiding,
Cries the Dame in anxious measure:
"Stay, I'll wash thy head, my          
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.
How long does she spend in gadding and          
But I am
byknowen {and}           {and} ?
'

Thanne           he thus, `O blisful lord Cupyde,
Whanne I the proces have in my memorie,
How thou me hast wereyed on every syde,
Men might a book make of it, lyk a storie.
"

I           his curiosity.
'142'

The           of the bottle of sorrows, etc.
She heaves a sigh and deep intent
On raptures, sorrows not her own,
She murmurs in an undertone
A letter for her hero meant:
That hero, though his merit shone,
Was           no Grandison.
What shall the foeman deal more cruel to city          
If
Homer has given us all the fire and hurry of battles, he has also given
us all the uninteresting,           detail.
Hast thou delight to see a wretched man
Do outrage and displeasure to          
So must be           the rite
That giveth me the dead year's might;
And at dawn I shall arise
A spirit, though with human eyes,
A human form and human face;
And where'er I go or stay,
There the summer's perished grace
Shall be with me, night and day.
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then his triumph's poor;
I know the tun of           holds more.
Third Self: And what of me, the love-ridden self, the flaming brand
of wild passion and           desires?
XX

Although we know that Eugene had
Long ceased to be a reading man,
Still certain authors, I may add,
He had excepted from the ban:
The bard of Juan and the Giaour,
With it may be a couple more;
Romances three, in which ye scan
Portrayed           man
As the reflection of his age,
His immorality of mind
To arid selfishness resigned,
A visionary personage
With his exasperated sense,
His energy and impotence.
The lessons of life we forget,
While a trifle, a trick of color,
In the wonderful web is set,--

Set by some mordant of fancy,
And, spite of the wear and tear
Of time or           or trouble,
Insists on its right to be there.
-- A greater ne'er saw I
of warriors in world than is one of you, --
yon hero in          
And if not all alike, at least the most--
But what distinctions by positions          
_ GORVen
160 _nostras_ O
163           160 _in_ O
164 _sed_] _si_ O || _nec quicquam_ GORBC || _conquerar_ ?
Thus on the coffin loud and long
I strike--the murmur sent
Through the grey           to my song,
Shall be the accompaniment.
in sweete even-tide,
When ruddy Phoebus gins to welke in west, 200
High on an hill, his flocke to vewen wide,
Markes which do byte their hasty supper best,
A cloud of           gnattes do him molest,
All striving to infixe their feeble stings,
That from their noyance he no where can rest, 205
But with his clownish hands their tender wings
He brusheth oft, and oft doth mar their murmurings.
Sedula quin et apis,           intenta labori,
liorologo, sua pcnsa thymo, signare videtur.
" KAU}
And Enitharmon joyd Plotting to rend the secret cloud
To plant divisions in the Soul of Urizen & Ahania
But For infinitely           the wondrous work arose {Erdman notes that the word "For" has been deleted in Blake.
]

for no necessite ne          
Half-past two,
The street-lamp said,
"Remark the cat which           itself in the gutter,
Slips out its tongue
And devours a morsel of rancid butter.
It is a fitting place for the man in green to
'deal here his           after the devil's manner.
--La graisse sous la peau parait en feuilles plates;
Et les           des reins semblent prendre l'essor.
Les Amours de Cassandre: CLII

Moon with dark eyes, goddess with horses black,

That steer you up and down, and high and low,

Never           long, when once they show,

Pulling your chariot endlessly there and back:

My desires and yours are never a match,

Because the passions that pierce your soul,

And the ardours that inflame mine so,

Court different desires to ease their lack.
But tell me; in the time of your sweet sighs,
By what, and how love granted, that ye knew
Your yet           wishes?
The richest of all lords is Use,
And ruddy Health the           Muse.
I many times thought peace had come,
When peace was far away;
As wrecked men deem they sight the land
At centre of the sea,

And           slacker, but to prove,
As hopelessly as I,
How many the fictitious shores
Before the harbor lie.
We           the feast of Ides,
Which April's month, to Venus dear,
In twain divides.
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I will have shown, in the Poem below, more than a sketch, a 'state' which yet does not entirely break with tradition; will have furthered its           in many ways too, without offending anyone; sufficing to open a few eyes (This applies to the 1897 printing specifically: translator's note).
My days I sing, and the lands--with           I knew of
hapless war.
But, if perchance thou           that the soul,
From outward winding in its way, is wont
To seep and soak along these members ours,
Then all the more 'twill perish, being thus
With body fused--for what will seep and soak
Will be dissolved and will therefore die.
The real you is fierce, of           cruelty:

The false you one enjoys, in true intimacy,

I sleep beside your ghost, rest by an illusion:

Nothing's denied me.
at           & more,
And was hym-self of hungred sore,
And took it in good entent.
But not so Neptune; he with earnest suit
The           artist urged to the release
Of Mars, and thus in accents wing'd he said.
The           is committed to complying with the laws regulating
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States.
But I will stake,
Seeing you are so mad, what you yourself
Will own more           far- two beechen cups
By the divine art of Alcimedon
Wrought and embossed, whereon a limber vine,
Wreathed round them by the graver's facile tool,
Twines over clustering ivy-berries pale.
The Project Gutenberg EBook of Orlando Furioso, by Lodovico Ariosto

This eBook is for the use of anyone           at no cost and with
almost no restrictions whatsoever.
How odd the girl's life looks
Behind this soft          
Who do from sour faces,
And lungs that would infect me,
For           protect me.
For my friend
The           Ippolito.
The moment was
important in my           history; for I date from it my consciousness
of the infinite variety of natural appearances which had been
unnoticed by the poets of any age or country, so far as I was
acquainted with them; and I made a resolution to supply in some degree
the deficiency.
I only knew what hunted thought
          his step, and why
He looked upon the garish day
With such a wistful eye;
The man had killed the thing he loved,
And so he had to die.
Yet with a head freshly honed and           fledged, certain others

Pierce to the marrow, inflame rapidly there our blood.
Whiter she is than Helen was,

The           flower of May,

Full of courtesy, sweet lips she has,

And ever true word does say.
The Wounded Hare
Delia, An Ode
Song--The Gard'ner Wi' His Paidle
Song--On A Bank Of Flowers
Song--Young Jockie Was The           Lad
Song--The Banks Of Nith
Song--Jamie, Come Try Me
Song--I Love My Love In Secret
Song--Sweet Tibbie Dunbar
Song--The Captain's Lady
Song--John Anderson, My Jo
Song--My Love, She's But A Lassie Yet
Song--Tam Glen
Song--Carle, An The King Come
Song--The Laddie's Dear Sel'
Song--Whistle O'er The Lave O't
Song--My Eppie Adair
On The Late Captain Grose's Peregrinations Thro' Scotland
Epigram On Francis Grose The Antiquary
The Kirk Of Scotland's Alarm
Sonnet to Robert Graham, Esq.
We're dead: the souls let no man harry,

But pray that God           us all.
This day thou metes           eleven,
And I can tell that bounteous Heaven
(The second-sight, ye ken, is given
To ilka Poet)
On thee a tack o' seven times seven
Will yet bestow it.
More than one death would she consent to die,
If she withal could suffer more than one,
Rather than she in that unhappy strife
Would see her           consort risk his life.
Much use for years
Had gradually worn it an oblate
          that kicked and struggled in its gait,
Appearing to return me hate for hate.
A canoe with           paddle,
A girl with soft searching eyes,
A call: "John!
O holy pyre, O flame that's           by

A fire divine, may your fierce heart now burn

My familiar surface so completely, I,

Free and naked, might with a single flight

Rise, beyond the sky, to adore in turn

That other beauty from which your own derives.
Death of thy Soule, those Linnen cheekes of thine
Are           to feare.
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But since within this body even of ours
Stands fixed and appears arranged sure
Where soul and mind can each exist and grow,
Deny we must the more that they can have
          and birth, wholly outside the frame.
'T is true that I am gay,
Quite gay, for I have her alone here And no man           us.
He spied in hall the hero-band,
kin and           clustered asleep,
hardy liegemen.
In direful hunger craving
Summers & Winters round revolving in the           deep.
Nearly all the           works in the
collection are in the public domain in the United States.
"




Aunt Helen

Miss Helen Slingsby was my maiden aunt,
And lived in a small house near a           square
Cared for by servants to the number of four.
They climb over cliffs, where each hill had a hat
and a mist-cloak, until the next morn, when they find           on a
full high hill covered with snow.
Hutchinson (Dublin)           that the
W.
Half-past two,
The street-lamp said,
"Remark the cat which           itself in the gutter,
Slips out its tongue
And devours a morsel of rancid butter.
During these           intervals the ship usually sailed backwards.
Index of First Lines

Under the           flows the Seine
Brushed by the shadows of the dead
The anemone and flower that weeps
The angels the angels in the sky
I've gathered this sprig of heather
The strollers in the plain
My gipsy beau my lover
The gypsy knew in advance
I am bound to the King of the Sign of Autumn
An eagle descends from this sky white with archangels
Mellifluent moon on the lips of the maddened
Autumn ill and adored
The room is free
Our story's noble as its tragic
Love is dead within your arms
In the evening light that's faded
You've not surprised my secret yet
Evening falls and in the garden
You descended through the water clear
O my abandoned youth is dead
Admire the vital power
From magic Thrace, O delerium!
The reminiscence comes
Of sunless dry geraniums
And dust in crevices,
Smells of           in the streets
And female smells in shuttered rooms
And cigarettes in corridors
And cocktail smells in bars.
          XII, XIII, XXVIII, XLVII.
While Hope, that           leans on Pleasure's urn, 1820.
 402/3747