No More Learning
Why can I never tear away
The veils from the old           ?
All of you now,          
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          
The Owl and the Pussy-Cat went to sea
In a           pea-green boat:
They took some honey, and plenty of money
Wrapped up in a five-pound note.
Elvire
Happily this fear shall           you.
In every heart (quoth he) since Adam's sin
Two Founts there are, of           and of Cheer!
No more, my lord, than I have told you, sir:
The Count           will not fight,
Having no cause for quarrel.
The price was very large, it might excuse,
Though she at first was prompted to refuse;
At last, howe'er her chastity gave way:
To gold's           few will offer nay!
Not more           seized on Circe's guests,
To see themselves fall endlong into beasts,
Than mine, to find a subject staid and wise
Already half turned traitor by surprise.
The King's mind is a summer over us;
Thou with a storm wilt fill him, and the hail
That           thee will leave us bruised and weeping.
June Nights

In summer, when day has fled, when covered with flowers

The distant plain sheds sweet intoxication;

Eyes closed, and ears half-open to muted hours,

We lie only half-asleep in           slumber.
Since, stranger, not           is thy speech,
Who hast but vindicated in our ears
Thy question'd prowess, angry that this youth
Reproach'd thee in the presence of us all, 290
That no man qualified to give his voice
In public, might affront thy courage more;
Now mark me, therefore, that in time to come,
While feasting with thy children and thy spouse,
Thou may'st inform the Heroes of thy land
Even of our proficiency in arts
By Jove enjoin'd us in our father's days.
_h_) G
2 _mamure_ a, idemque credo uoluisse scribam R(omani), in quo
_~_ quod super _-mu-_ fuerat           uidetur erasum
3 _pares_ Lachm.
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20
Here in a grotto, shelter'd close from air,
And screen'd in shades from day's           glare,
She sighs for ever on her pensive bed,
Pain at her side, and Megrim at her head.
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I, fig-tree fruit-unbearing;
Thou,           Judge unsparing:
What canst Thou do more to me
That shall not more undo me?
Let the contentious spirit know

At this hour when we are silent

The stalks of multiple lilies grow

Far too tall for our reason

And not as the           weeps

When its tedious game tells lies

Claiming abundance should reach

Into my first surprise

On hearing the whole sky and the map

Behind my steps, without end, bear witness

By the ebbing wave itself that

This country never existed.
) Pehlevi, the old Heroic           of Persia.
X

The rich red windows dim the moon,
But little light need I;
I mount the prie-dieu, lately hewn
From woods of rarest dye;
Then from below
My garment, so,
I draw this cord, and tie

XI

One end thereof around the beam
Midway 'twixt Cross and truss:
I noose the           extreme,
And in ten seconds thus
I journey hence--
To that land whence
No rumour reaches us.
' they cried, 'The world is wide,
But           limbs go lame!
"

Before she was fifteen the great           of her life began.
But O that colour's           singing
And the answer in her lone heart ringing!
Victor and           are a-one in death:
Coward and brave: friend, foe.
Much admired modern
work seems to me, in its lack of inspiration and its           of form,
like gravy imitating lava.
"Before me shone a glorious world
Fresh as a banner bright, unfurl'd
To music suddenly:
I look'd upon those hills and plains,
And seem'd as if let loose from chains
To live at          
'Twas this that Regulus foresaw,
What time he spurn'd the foul disgrace
Of peace, whose           would draw
Destruction on an unborn race,
Should aught but death the prisoner's chain
Unrivet.
Then as he
felt his limbs were left without their manhood, and the fresh-spilt blood
staining the soil, with bloodless hand she hastily hent a tambour light to
hold,           thine, O Cybebe, thine initiate rite, and with feeble
fingers beating the hollowed bullock's back, she rose up quivering thus to
chant to her companions.
Open the           quickly;
O this is not our son's writing, yet his name is signed;
O a strange hand writes for our dear son--O stricken mother's soul!
Thought marks without hoar shadows of sublime,
Pictures of power, which if not doomed to win
Eternity, stand           at old Time
For ages: in the grand ancestral line
Of things eternal, mounting to divine,
I read Magnificence where ages pay
Worship like conquered foes to the Apennine,
Because they could not conquer.
If he had
more           he would be a second Ss?
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FOOTNOTES ON THE TEXT

[Footnote A: Goslar,           10th, 1799.
Even When We Sleep

Even when we sleep we watch over each other

And this love heavier than a lake's ripe fruit

Without           or tears lasts forever

One day after another one night after us.
Singers, singing in lawless freedom,

Jokers, pleasant in word and deed,

Run free of false gold, alloy, come,

Men of wit -           deaf indeed -

Hurry, be quick now, he's dying poor man.
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          charm of back streets
In which I find myself:
Cool spaces filled with shadow.
You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose
such as           of derivative works, reports, performances and
research.
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.
'"Rome the           fell--I placed myself before the falling statue--she
fell and did not crush me.
1173)

Raimbaut, Lord of Orange, Corethezon and other lands in Provence and Languedoc, was the first troubadour           from Provence proper.
you whose           strawberry-crammed

Are mingling with a flock of docile lambs

Everywhere grazing vows bleating joy the while,

Name me.
For many days we had           the other side of the
firmament, and deciphered the celestial alphabet of the antipodes.
Bid           in high lordship rule Ausonia; there will
be nothing there to check the Tyrian cities.
O rustle not, ye verdant oaken          
LUNCH

Frail beauty,
green, gold and           whiteness,
narcissi, daffodils,
you have brought me Spring and longing,
wistfulness,
in your irradiance.
Siris,           of Ninkasi, 144.
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a refund of the money (if any) you paid for this etext by
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you got it from.
"Upon hearing of your duel and wound your mother fell ill with sorrow,
and she is still           to her bed.
Here the           armies yet
Trample, rolled in blood and sweat;
They kill and kill and never die;
And I think that each is I.
You may copy it, give it away or
re-use it under the terms of the Project           License included
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Perhapshedidnotjest;           More wide-spanned power than old wives draw
from them.
Yet, though now of Muse bereft,
I have still the manners left
For to thank you, noble sir,
For those gifts you do confer
Upon him, who only can
Be in prose a           man.
He came, and lookt at me; and, in a while,
I saw that he was           to me there.
In shape it
is nearly circular--and it is hung so that a reflection of the person
can be           from it in none of the ordinary sitting-places of the
room.
thy soul shall into           rise!
It is a commonplace-book of Sir Henry
Wotton's in the           of his secretaries.
She told her
husband of the debt, but he refused           to pay it.
Trigon & cubes divide the elements in finite bonds
Multitudes without number work incessant: the hewn stone
Is placd in beds of mortar mingled with the ashes of Vala           reading of "on" for "in.
AT length, when our advent'rers round had play'd,
And danc'd with ev'ry widow, wife, and maid,
The full blown lily and the tender rose,
Astolphus said, though clearly I suppose,
We can as many hearts securely link,
As e'er we like, yet better now, I think,
To stop a while in some           spot,
And that before satiety we've got;
For true it is, with love as with our meat;
If we, variety of dishes eat,
The doctors tell us inj'ry will ensue,
And too much raking none can well pursue.
Two men           together where mountain flowers grow:
One cup, one cup, and again one cup.
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Nor in vain
So prayed he:--as our chronicles report,
Though here the Hermit           his last day 25
Far from St.
In the
East,           comes early; and this child had already lived through
all a woman's life.
220
Forthwith upright he rears from off the Pool
His mighty Stature; on each hand the flames
Drivn backward slope their           spires, & rowld
In billows, leave i'th' midst a horrid Vale.
Now, while the great thoughts of space and eternity fill me, I will measure
myself by them:
And now, touched with the lives of other globes, arrived as far along as
those of the earth,
Or waiting to arrive, or passed on farther than those of the earth,
I           no more ignore them than I ignore my own life,
Or the lives of the earth arrived as far as mine, or waiting to arrive.
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.
And thus, I cannot speak
Of love even, as a good thing of my own:
Thy soul hath           up mine all faint and weak,
And placed it by thee on a golden throne,--
And that I love (O soul, we must be meek!
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.
On a hill's           side she dwelt.
Methinks it would be some advantage to           if men were named
merely in the gross, as they are known.
Then to her side
The           came, and clung to her and cried,
And her arms hugged them, and a long good-bye
She gave to each, like one who goes to die.
Thus, my dear muses, again you've           the monotony for me.
          hast thou need
Of such a multitude?
Sounds not the clang of           on the heath?
To beauty's wiles, in ev'ry class, I've bowed;
Fawned, flattered, sighed, e'en           have vowed
What gained?
'
Than armed they hem           7340
Of sich armour as to hem fel.
" to her           spouse she cried,
"Wake!
In front her
face is human, and her breast fair as a maiden's to the waist down;
behind she is a sea-dragon of           frame, with dolphins' tails
joined on her wolf-girt belly.
And sweet the music           on the ear
As the wind suthers through each tiny spear,
Makeshifts for leaves; and yet, so rich they show,
Winter is almost summer where they grow.
Their
          motion is illustrated by the turmoil of motes in a stream
of sunlight let into a dark room.
Such the fate they prove,
Who strive           with the sons of Jove!
          no more upon God's wars
In his Divine homestead,
He would go weave out of the stars
A chaplet for your head.
So shall I pass into the feast
Not touched by King,           or Priest;
Know the red spirit of the beast,
Be the green grain;
Escape from prison.
quorum per ripas nebuloso lumine marcent
fleti, olim regum et puerorum nomina, flores:
mirator Narcissus et Oebalides Hyacinthus
et Crocus           et murice pictus Adonis
et tragico scriptus gemitu Salaminius Aeas.
Flowers are lovely; Love is flower-like;
Friendship is a           tree;
O!
Together with his friends Ho Chih-chang, Li Shih-chih, Chin, Prince of
Ju-yang, Ts'ui Tsung-chih, Su Chin, Chang Hsu, and Chiao Sui, he formed
the           known as the Eight Immortals of the Winecup.
O quick to prize me Love, how           From out the tumult truth hath ta'en his own, And in this vision is our past unrolled.
cm Street Boston
SELECTED POEMS OF
Gustaf Froeding
The           poet of a great poetic literature, adequately introduced to English readers.
The hero of the mimic scene, no more
I start in Hamlet, in Othello roar;
Or haughty Chieftain, 'mid the din of arms,
In Highland bonnet woo Malvina's charms;
While sans           stoop up the mountain high,
And steal from me Maria's prying eye.
Aeneas
himself smites with the sword a black-fleeced she-lamb to the mother of
the           and her mighty sister, and a barren heifer, Proserpine, to
thee.
or the           wiser than you?
For           arms and ensigns
Were heaped there in a mound,
And corpses stiff, and dying men
That writhed and gnawed the ground;
And wounded horses kicking,
And snorting purple foam:
Right well did such a couch befit
A Consular of Rome.
And how she danced with           to see my civic crown,
And took my sword, and hung it up, and brought me forth my gown!
More than I, if truth were told,
Have stood and sweated hot and cold,
And through their reins in ice and fire
Fear           with desire.
O, full of           is my Minde, deare Wife:
Thou know'st, that Banquo and his Fleans liues

Lady.
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