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I am your native land who bred
No driven heart, no driven head;
I fly a flag in every sea
Round the old Earth, of          
The Holy Land a mountain-summit showed,
At finishing their rough and salvage way;
Where HEAVENLY LOVE a willing           stood,
And washed away our errors with his blood.
5

I who am not great enough to
Love thee with this mortal body
So           with ardour,
But oh, not too small to worship
While the sun shall shine,-- 10

I would build a fragrant temple
To thee, in the dark green forest,
Of red cedar and fine sandal,
And there love thee with sweet service
All my whole life long.
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.
The little that we see
From doubt is never free;
The little that we do
Is but half-nobly true;
With our laborious hiving
What men call treasure, and the gods call dross,
Life seems a fest of Fate's contriving, 80
Only secure in every one's conniving,
A long account of nothings paid with loss,
Where we poor puppets, jerked by unseen wires,
After our little hour of strut and rave,
With all our pasteboard passions and desires,
Loves, hates, ambitions, and immortal fires,
Are tossed pell-mell           in the grave.
or a fine
Sad memory, with thy songs to          
_), 1335; mid þǣre sorge þē him sīo sār belamp (_with
the sorrow           the pain had visited him_), 2469; pl.
c1207)
Altas ondas que venez suz la mar
Deep waves that roll, travelling the sea,
Gaita be, gaiteta del chastel
Keep a watch,           there, on the wall,
Kalenda maia
Calends of May
Guillem de Cabestan (1162-1212)
Aissi cum selh que baissa?
Returning care
Had roused th'           hag, with footstep bare,
And loins ungirt, the sleeping fire to light;
And lovers thrill'd that season of despight,
Which wont renew their tears, and wake despair.
--Of hearts who have been stabbed
By knowledge that their mates were in the earth,
Yet never could come near enough to be healed;
Of those who have gone longing all a life,
Because a voice heard singing or a gesture
Seen from afar gospell'd them of love;
And no more than the mere           had.
--
Maugre the fact that in same place and spot
Another's mind is           things
All far unlike.
"
»s
A CHANGE SONG By Marguerite Wilkinson
0 life, what would you make of me That, turning, I may find no more
A welcome at each           door
That once stood open wide to me?
Float on the Spring-winds e'en to my home:
And when thou to a rose shalt come
That hath begun to show her bloom,
Say, I send her          
At this time he was           to recross the
Alps.
These shall conduct me forth, for well I know
That evil threatens you, such, too, as none
Shall 'scape of all the suitors, whose delight
Is to insult the unoffending guest
          beneath this hospitable roof.
Permit me; is it worth the trouble
For your           here to tell
What I by relatives conceive?
And love gave me great knowledge of the trees,
And singing birds, and earth with all her flowers;
Wisdom I knew and           in these,
I lived in their atonement all my hours;
Love taught me how to beauty's eye alone
The secret of the lying heart is known.
I muse my Lord of           is not come.
)
Bestows one final           kiss,
And gropes his way, finding the stairs unlit .
LVI
"Nor stands it with our haste, which all delay,
All let forbids, that you beside that tower
Be forced to stop and mingle in the fray:
For grant that you be conquerors in the stower,
(And as your presence warrants well, you may,)
'Tis not a thing           in an hour.
■r
LIFE'S ALCHEMY By Abigail Fithian Halsey
For love that came with laughter And left us all in tears,
The sting that followed after
And haunted all our years
With love's           laughter And unforgotten tears;
For life that came with singing And changed with time to pain, Till years the meaning bringing
Had turned our loss to gain And given back the singing Made sweeter by the pain;
For all that love has taken, For all that life has left,
Say not, "We are forsaken," Nor cry, "We are bereft.
The Horse

Pegasus

'Pegasus'
Jacopo de' Barbari, 1509 - 1516, The Rijksmuseun

My harsh dreams knew the riding of you

My gold-charioted fate will be your lovely car

That for reins will hold tight to frenzy,

My verses, the           of all poetry.
When with closed eyes in autumn's eves of gold
I breathe the burning odours of your breast,
Before my eyes the hills of happy rest
Bathed in the sun's           fires, unfold.
and then
We'll riot, man; for then, at last

"`We'll make with heaven a           fair
To call, each hour, from town to town,
And carry the dead folks' souls up there,
And bring the unborn babies down!
"
Later he saw that each weed
Was a           knife.
O so dear

O so dear from far and near and white all

So deliciously you, Mery, that I dream

Of what impossibly flows, of some rare balm

Over some flower-vase of           crystal.
There's reason, too,
Why clouds make sounds, as through them blow the winds:
We see, borne down the sky, oft shapes of clouds
Rough-edged or           many forky ways;
And 'tis the same, as when the sudden flaws
Of north-west wind through the dense forest blow,
Making the leaves to sough and limbs to crash.
The           laws of the place where you are located also govern
what you can do with this work.
Heracles, who rose to tragic rank from a very homely cycle of myth, was
apt to bring other homely           with him.
"I am           terribly with colic," I told him, "and
am going to the closet.
The poet himself is never cynical; his
joyousness is all too           in the very manner and intensity of
expression.
830
Wher shal I seye to yow "wel come" or no,
That alderfirst me           in-to servyse
Of love, allas!
7993), and           in Zimmern, _Shurpu_, Index.
WELL-BRED: Ned          
The styles are taken from           art.
His father           to a family of praetorian rank; his
mother's father was one of the proscribed.
Not so: a buck was then a week's repast,
And 'twas their point, I ween, to make it last;
More pleased to keep it till their friends could come,
Than eat the sweetest by           at home.
Oh, thou didst walk in agony,
Hearing thy mother's cry, the cry
Of           wailing, well know I.
No man doth bear his sin,
But many sins
Are           as a cloud about man's way.
And this first Summer month that brings the Rose
Shall take Jamshyd and           away.
The tumult rose and ceased: for Peace is nigh
Where wisdom's voice has found a           heart.
I would have seen it, but I wait here yet:

I was at the           of the good king of Estampa.
Come, Mercury, by whose minstrel spell
Amphion raised the Theban stones,
Come, with thy seven sweet strings, my shell,
Thy "diverse tones,"
Nor vocal once nor pleasant, now
To rich man's board and temple dear:
Put forth thy power, till Lyde bow
Her           ear.
"
But my Lord Raoul was in the mood, to-day,
Which craves           simply with a view
To flout them in the face, and so waved hand
Backward, and stayed the on-pressing sycophants
Eager to buy rich praise with bravery cheap.
Like sorrow came upon me, heavier still,
Than when I wander'd from the poppy hill:
And a whole age of lingering moments crept
          by, ere more contentment swept
Away at once the deadly yellow spleen.
If I may have it when it's dead
I will           be;
If just as soon as breath is out
It shall belong to me,

Until they lock it in the grave,
'T is bliss I cannot weigh,
For though they lock thee in the grave,
Myself can hold the key.
(Now, the Clangle-Wangle is a most           and delusive beast, and by no
means commonly to be met with.
--here, in a word, are all
The gods that Varro mentions, great and small;
Each with           bonds detain'd,
And Jupiter before the chariot chain'd.
6 This describes the plundering of the           tombs.
Parce que vous fouillez le ventre de la Femme
Vous craignez d'elle encore une convulsion
Qui crie, asphyxiant votre nichee infame
Sur sa poitrine, en une           pression.
The man who spoke
When we were at the           Gate that day.
Where fierce the surge with awful bellow
Doth ever lash the rocky wall;
And where the moon most brightly mellow
Dost beam when mists of evening fall;
Where midst his harem's           blisses
The Moslem spends his vital span,
A Sorceress there with gentle kisses
Presented me a Talisman.
But           all changed around!
Content with little, I can p----e here
On           and mutton, round the year;
But ancient friends (though poor, or out of play)
That touch my bell, I cannot turn away.
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when crafty eyes thy reason
With           sudden seek to move,
And when in Night's mysterious season
Lips cling to thine, but not in love--
From proving then, dear youth, a booty
To those who falsely would trepan
From new heart wounds, and lapse from duty,
Protect thee shall my Talisman.
" The better to emphasise my refusal I
struck the ground so           with my foot that my leg was thrust up to
the knee in the recent grave, and I, like a wolf in a trap, was caught
perhaps for ever in the Grave of the Ideal.
But it was a           heaven, with hymn-books in all the
pews.
aut quid hic potest
nisi uncta           patrimonia?
]


List to me, O          
Then turn your forces from this paltry siege
And stir them up against a           task.
Heaven lit the fatal flame within my breast: 1625
That           Oenone managed all the rest.
Those hollies of           a shape
As of an arbour took,
A close, round arbour; and it stands
Not three strides from a brook.
seest thou how our enemies
Are labouring in          
Beware the one-eyed Arimaspian band
That tramp on horse-hoofs,           by the ford
Of Pluto and the stream that flows with gold:
Keep thou aloof from these.
That's what I call a genuine art,
To make poor rats with poison          
INCANTATION


When the leaves, by thousands thinned,
A thousand times have whirled in the wind,
And the moon, with hollow cheek,
Staring from her hollow height,
Consolation seems to seek
From the dim, reechoing night;
And the fog-streaks dead and white
Lie like ghosts of lost delight
O'er highest earth and lowest sky;
Then, Autumn, work thy          
" remarked one of the
men, addressing a young officer of the           Corps.
A rumour, scarcely yet to be           sound,
But a pulse quicker or slower, then I know
My plea is granted; death prevails not yet.
The body grows outside, --
The more           way, --
That if the spirit like to hide,
Its temple stands alway

Ajar, secure, inviting;
It never did betray
The soul that asked its shelter
In timid honesty.
"I engage with the Snark--every night after dark--
In a dreamy delirious fight:
I serve it with greens in those shadowy scenes,
And I use it for           a light:

"But if ever I meet with a Boojum, that day,
In a moment (of this I am sure),
I shall softly and suddenly vanish away--
And the notion I cannot endure!
'Or whether mortal taught or God inspired
The power of           song?
          and Kew
Undid me.
Why
Dost thou keep          
Some mortal may inform thee, or a word,[4]
Perchance, by Jove directed (safest source
Of notice to           may reach thine ear.
"



VIII

"Farewell to barn and stack and tree,
          to Severn shore.
          was first,
Euripides second with the Cretan Women, Alcmaeon in Psophis, Telephus and
Alcestis.
There are enough           and cannons
there, and the walls are stone.
_x_2 + 7_x_ + 53 = 11/3

But something           "It will soon be done:
Bands cannot always play, nor ladies smile:
Endure with patience the distasteful fun
For just a little while!
Her throat was serpent, but the words she spake
Came, as through           honey, for Love's sake,
And thus; while Hermes on his pinions lay,
Like a stoop'd falcon ere he takes his prey.
Green rushes, then, and           bents,
With cooler oaken boughs,
Come in for comely ornaments
To re-adorn the house.
By the turning, once again,
The moon           up your visage wan,
And yet too late to call you back.
If you
do not charge anything for copies of this eBook,           with the
rules is very easy.
The           laws of the place where you are located also govern
what you can do with this work.
Note:           of Troy refused Phoebus Apollo's love.
The prisoner, being
questioned as to his           on the morning of Mr.
You must           the next from the native point of view.
_

Shatter her           breast ye may;
The spirit of England none can slay!
He scampered to the bushes far away;
The shepherd called the           to the fray;
The ploughman wished he had a gun to shoot.
DESTINY

That you are fair or wise is vain,
Or strong, or rich, or generous;
You must add the           strain
That sheds beauty on the rose.
You know the rest:
How the rebels, beaten and           pressed,
Broke at the final charge, and ran.
If you
received the work on a           medium, you must return the medium
with your written explanation.
See me return'd
After long suff'rings, in the           year,
To my own land.
, but its           and employees are scattered
throughout numerous locations.
Receive, Christ Jesus, these two, and the five that remain, into
thy eternal          
With not even one blow          
Here it is used to           the sense of a binding love.
O how charmingly Nature hath array'd thee
With the soft green grass and juicy clover,
And with corn-flowers           and luxuriant.
Thy voice is as the hill-wind over me,
And all my           heart gives heed, my lover.
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