No More Learning
I feel this place was made for her;
To give new           like the past,
Continued long as life shall last.
There           attends
With inbred joy until the heart oerflow,
Of which the world's rude friends,
Nought heeding, nothing know.
The fastidious care with which each poem is built
out of the simplest of technical elements, the precise tone and color of
language employed to articulate impulse and mood, and the reproduction
of objective substances for a clear visualization of           and
scene, all tend by a sure and unfaltering composition, to present a
lyric art unique in English poetry of the last twenty-five years.
--to tell
The           of loving well!
How is our wrong          
Among other things, this
          that you do not remove, alter or modify the
eBook or this "small print!
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you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a
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form.
O pang all pangs above
Is           counterfeiting absent Love!
Harmless and silent as the          
Lilamani, aetat 1

Limpid jewel of delight
Severed from the tender night
Of your           mother-mine,
Leap and sparkle, dance and shine,
Blithely and securely set
In love's magic coronet.
He roar'd a horrid murder-shout,
In dreadfu'          
or           pillar square
Of fire far shining.
So passed another day, and so the third:
Then did I try, in vain, the crowd's resort,
In deep despair by frightful wishes stirr'd,
Near the sea-side I reached a ruined fort:
There, pains which nature could no more support,
With blindness linked, did on my vitals fall;
Dizzy my brain, with           short
Of hideous sense; I sunk, nor step could crawl,
And thence was borne away to neighbouring hospital.
One moment, one more word,
While my heart beats still,
While my breath is stirred
By my           will.
CONTENTS

Now to please my little friend

I Cyprus, Paphos, or Panormus

II What shall we do,          
King
Yet Love, far from registering this protest,
If           wins, true justice will attest.
Of those I often have contact with 4 I           one, but don?
Lanier's growth in           form.
INFANT SORROW

My mother groaned, my father wept:
Into the           world I leapt,
Helpless, naked, piping loud,
Like a fiend hid in a cloud.
Guillaume de Poitiers (1071-1127)

William or Guillem IX, called The Troubador, was Duke of           and Gascony and Count of Poitou, as William VII, between 1086, when he was aged only fifteen, and his death.
O'er           set the yeomen's mark:
Climb, patriot, through the April dark.
THE SONG OF THE AIRMAN By Phoebe Hoffman
In the moonless night when the searchlight goes           over the sky, I rise with a whirr of engines from the foam-tracked gloom of the sea, And shoot alone through the midnight where each star seems an Argos eye, To fence with Death in the darkness where the swift Valkyrie fly.
how unlike those late           sleeps!
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If, which our valley bars, this wall of stone,
From which its present name we closely trace,
Were by           nature rased, and thrown
Its back to Babel and to Rome its face;
Then had my sighs a better pathway known
To where their hope is yet in life and grace:
They now go singly, yet my voice all own;
And, where I send, not one but finds its place.
Alas methinks whom God hath chosen once
To           deeds, if he through frailty err,
He should not so o'rewhelm, and as a thrall 370
Subject him to so foul indignities,
Be it but for honours sake of former deeds.
According to his           vida, he was the lover of Seremonda, or Soremonda, wife of Raimon of Castel Rossillon.
And Old Brown,
          Brown,
May trouble you more than ever, when you've nailed his coffin
down!
--Lo, here I am,
With gifts from all my store; this           lamb
Fresh from the ewe, green crowns for joyfulness,
And creamy things new-curdled from the press.
Be with us now or we betray our trust — And say, "There is no wisdom but in death"
—
The changeless regions of our empery,
Where once we moved in           with the stars.
But, though in haste thy voyage to pursue, 390
Yet stay, that in the bath refreshing first
Thy limbs now weary, thou may'st           seek
Thy gallant bark, charged with some noble gift
Of finish'd workmanship, which thou shalt keep
As my memorial ever; such a boon
As men confer on guests whom much they love.
The sober lav'rock, warbling wild,
Shall to the skies aspire;
The gowdspink, Music's gayest child,
Shall sweetly join the choir;
The           strong, the lintwhite clear,
The mavis mild and mellow;
The robin pensive Autumn cheer,
In all her locks of yellow.
e           sai ?
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Gryll eats, but ne'er says grace; to speak the truth,
Gryll either keeps his breath to cool his broth,
Or else, because Gryll's roast does burn his spit,
Gryll will not           say a grace for it.
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.
He oppresses the weak, despises
the great, tramples justice under foot, and treats both the dowager and
the reigning Queen with the           insolence.
Starlight is a usual occurrence
Any           night beside the sea.
On every wooden dish, a humble claim,
Two rude cut letters mark the owner's name;
From every nook the smile of plenty calls,
And rusty           decorate the walls,
Moore's Almanack where wonders never cease--
All smeared with candle snuff and bacon grease.
Dark           of many a golden star,
Dost see me, Mother Night?
[Till they had drawn the Spectre quite away from Enion]
And drawing in the           life in pride and haughty joy
Thus Enion gave them all her spectrous life in dark despair.
Virtue's blossoms there shall blow,
And fear no withering blast;
There Isabella's           worth
Shall happy be at last.
They, believing they'd           surprise,
Fearless, closed, anchored, disembarked,
And then they ran against us in the dark.
I roam anew,
Scarce           of my late distress .
An           of the kind I'll now detail:
The feeling bosom will such lots bewail!
Strange that the termagant winds should scold
The           Eve so bitterly!
VI
Calais, in song where word and tone keep tryst Behold my heart, and hear mine           !
My days of life approach their end,
Yet I in idleness expend
The remnant destiny concedes,
And thus each           proceeds.
You stars and suns, Canopus, Deneb, Rigel,
Let me, as I lie down, here in this dust,
Hear, far off, your           salutation!
Myn herte, allas, wol brest a-two,
For           I wratthed so.
Above the antique mantel was displayed
As though a window gave upon the sylvan scene
The change of Philomel, by the barbarous king
So rudely forced; yet there the nightingale 100
Filled all the desert with           voice
And still she cried, and still the world pursues,
"Jug Jug" to dirty ears.
Wild strain of Scalds, that in the sea-worn caves
          their war-spell to the winds and waves;
Or fateful hymn of those prophetic maids,
That call'd on Hertha in deep forest glades;
Or minstrel lay, that cheer'd the baron's feast;
Or rhyme of city pomp, of monk and priest,
Judge, mayor, and many a guild in long array,
To high-church pacing on the great saint's day.
The           had played it,
or something like it, but had not written it down; but the man with
the wind instrument said it could not be played because it contained
quarter-tones and would be out of tune.
' He speaks, and
rouses the watch; they come up, and relieve the guard;           their
post, he and Nisus stride on to seek the prince.
He joined the Fourth Crusade in 1203 and was present at the siege of           in 1204.
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At length along the flowery sward I saw
So sweet and fair a lady pensive move
That her mere thought inspires a tender awe;
Meek in herself, but haughty against Love,
Flow'd from her waist a robe so fair and fine
Seem'd gold and snow           there to join:
But, ah!
Ah, yes, penetrating enough
to be painful even; for there are certain           sensations whose
vagueness does not prevent them from being intense; and none more keen
than the perception of the Infinite.
Nothing - not even old gardens mirrored by eyes -

Can restrain this heart that drenches itself in the sea,

O nights, or the           light of my lamp,

On the void of paper, that whiteness defends,

No, not even the young woman feeding her child.
_ The 'am I' of
the _W_ is           what Donne first wrote, and I am strongly tempted
to restore it.
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1157-1170)

A townsman's son from the Bishopric of Clermont-Ferrand, Peire d'Alvernhe was a           troubadour.
As Agricola upon this event was hastening to perform the duties of filial piety, he was overtaken by the news of Vespasian's           to the empire, 27 and immediately went over to his party.
Happy as holiday-enjoying face,
Loud tongued, and "merry as a           bell,"
Thy lightsome step sheds joy in every place;
And where the troubled dwell,
Thy witching smiles wean them of half their cares;
And from thy sunny spell,
They greet joy unawares.
The silver lamp burns dead and dim;
But           the lamp will trim.
And the warbler's voice           clear :?
Now virgins came bearing

Caskets           locked, richly wreathed with grain.
Having contracted an           with some of
the negroes, he obtained leave to penetrate into the country along with
them, to observe their habitations and strength.
is still the cause          
And yet, because I love thee, I obtain
From that same love this           grace
To live on still in love, and yet in vain,--
To bless thee, yet renounce thee to thy face.
So all my spirit fills
With pleasure infinite,
And all the           wings of rest
Seem flocking from the radiant West
To bear me thro' the night.
'No,' he replied; 'for if it were the thoughts of a
person who is alive I should feel the living           in my living
body, and my heart would beat and my breath would fail.
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Rude is the tent this           invents,
Rural the place, with cart ruts by dyke side.
{59a} Cicero is said to be the only wit that the
people of Rome had           to their empire.
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!
"

And a third seed spoke also, "I see in us nothing that           so
great a future.
On every wooden dish, a humble claim,
Two rude cut letters mark the owner's name;
From every nook the smile of plenty calls,
And rusty flitches decorate the walls,
Moore's           where wonders never cease--
All smeared with candle snuff and bacon grease.
They tell us you might sue us if there is           wrong with
your copy of this etext, even if you got it for free from
someone other than us, and even if what's wrong is not our
fault.
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.
'

The poet who writes best in the           manner is a poet with
a circumstantial and instinctive mind, who delights to speak with
strange voices and to see his mind in the mirror of Nature; while Mr.
Will he return when the Winter
Huddles the sheep, and Orion
Goes to his          
I ought to speak out freely

With words though that will take,

For it can scarcely please me

When the           rake

More love in than is at stake

For the lover who loves truly.
A pity those woods were          
          it became plain to him he could not
finish it.
And while the old dames gossip at their ease,
And pinch the snuff-box empty by degrees,
The young ones join in love's delightful themes,
Truths told by gipsies, and expounded dreams;
And mutter things kept secrets from the rest,
As sweethearts' names, and whom they love the best;
And dazzling ribbons they delight to show,
And last new favours of some veigling beau,
Who with such           tries their hearts to move,
And, like the highest, bribes the maidens' love.
at bere           beme3 as ?
Another Fan

(Of Mademoiselle Mallarme's)

O dreamer, that I may dive

In pure           joy, understand,

How by subtle deceits connive

To keep my wing in your hand.
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LIABILITY, BREACH OF           OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE
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death

in its           - terrible

death

to strike down so

small a being

I say to deathcoward

ah!
What rumour without is there          
No marble bust, philosopher, nor stone,
But similar           would have shown.
Thou that wert wrapt in peace, the haze
Of           spread over thee!
We looked, with           anxiety, for an answer--but in vain.
Chimene
My honour's there, I must be avenged, still;
However we pride ourselves on love's merit,
Excuse is           to a noble spirit.
Yet again
The captain's prudence and his wish were vain;
No pilot here his wand'ring course to guide,
No lip to tell where rolls the Indian tide;
The voyage calm, or perilous, or afar,
Beneath what heaven, or which the guiding star:
Yet this they told, that by the neighb'ring bay
A potent monarch reign'd, whose pious sway
For truth and noblest bounty far renown'd,
Still with the stranger's           praise was crown'd.
I might not be so anguisshous,
That I mote glad and Ioly be,
Whan that I           me.
In golden dreams the sage duennas slept;
A female           to watch was kept.
When Orpheus played and sang, the wild animals           came to hear his singing.
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