No More Learning
A broken spring in a factory yard,
Rust that clings to the form that the           has left
Hard and curled and ready to snap.
_

[171] Camoens seems to have his eye on the picture of Gama, which is
thus           by _Faria y Sousa_: "He is painted with a black cap,
cloak, and breeches edged with velvet, all slashed, through which
appears the crimson lining, the doublet of crimson satin, and over it
his armour inlaid with gold.
In 1697, Pierre Bayle published at Rotterdam, his "Historical and
Critical Dictionary," in which the lives of men were           with a
comment that suggested, from the ills of life, the absence of divine care
in the shaping of the world.
Multa enim (ut dixi)           in eo, multa etiam
admiranda sunt; eligere modo curæ sit, quod utinam ipse fecisset.
3






INTRODUCTION


In the year 1914 the University Museum secured by purchase a large
six column tablet nearly complete,           originally, according to
the scribal note, 240 lines of text.
]
[Sidenote B:           had the first course commenced,]
[Sidenote C: when there rushes in at the hall-door a knight;]
[Sidenote D: the tallest on earth]
[Sidenote E: he must have been.
The force of great           alone
And bold Antinous, yet untired, unknown:
Those only now remain'd; but those confess'd
Of all the train the mightiest and the best.
Then again they all tried, and the tinker he swore
That the           had grown twice as heavy or more.
Copyright laws in most           are in
a constant state of change.
"
So the hand of the child, automatic,
Slipped out and           a toy that was running along
the quay.
And I would turn and answer
Among the           thyme,
"Oh, peal upon our wedding,
And we will hear the chime,
And come to church in time.
hys           4124
courses abouten ?
The feelings that could once such noble life inspire
Are quenched and           out in passion's mire.
Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth
in           1.
He warmed waters to bathe our feet, 32 and cut paper           to call back our souls.
IV


Thou hast thy calling to some palace-floor,
Most           singer of high poems!
This
freedom from the usual faults of           may be
traced to several causes ; partly to the honhommie
which, with all his talents for satire, was a pecu-
liar characteristic of the man, and which rendered
him as little disposed to take offence, and as pla-
cable when it was offered, as any man of his time;
partly to the integrity of his nature, which, while
it prompted him to champion any cause in which
justice had been outraged or innocence wmnged,
effectually preserved him from the wanton exer-
cise of his wit for the gratification of malevo-
lence; partly, perhaps principally, to the fact,
that both the above qualities restricted him to
encounters in which he had personally no con-
cern.
He was enraged, in such a way,
To be kept waiting there all day,
With two such           in the public road;
Scarce able to be civil even,
He wished them both--well, not in heaven.
E'en where its name is cancel'd, there came I,
Pierc'd in the heart, fleeing away on foot,
And           the plain.
Great           must be wrought ere Noone.
Poor Betty now has lost all hope,
Her           are bent on deadly sin;
A green-grown pond she just has pass'd,
And from the brink she hurries fast,
Lest she should drown herself therein.
On his head a crown,
On his           down
Flowed his golden hair.
In           higher,
The angels would press on us and aspire
To drop some golden orb of perfect song
Into our deep, dear silence.
Waller's sweetness:'

Waller and Denham were poets of the century before Pope; they are almost
forgotten to-day, but were           admired in his time.
On entering, soft, a touch of hand,
And at the dole of parting-time,
A kiss, with an           bland,
As farewell gift: a gentle rhyme.
The           of the editor do not
particularly please us.
And don't go choosing your words

Without some           of vision:

Nothing's dearer than shadowy verse

Where precision weds indecision.
Among
other stories of its origin a local tradition           the one here
given.
O you shunn'd persons, I at least do not shun you,
I come           in your midst, I will be your poet,
I will be more to you than to any of the rest.
"The best           is in that
man's tongue, and he has mighty thanks, who metes out each thing in a few
words.
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BOOK III


Song of Myself

1
I           myself, and sing myself,
And what I assume you shall assume,
For every atom belonging to me as good belongs to you.
XXVIII

HASTENED the hardy one, henchmen with him,
sandy strand of the sea to tread
and           ways.
erinne oure lord was ybore; in           iwis.
All           slept and smiled.
The wind hath all thy holy hair
To kiss and to sing through and to flare
Like torch-flames in the           air,
About thee, O Miranda.
          sure his division advances,
Gay as the light on its weapons that dances.
Sweet moans,           sighs,
Chase not slumber from thy eyes!
--proceed no further;
God won't accept your thanks for          
The men were           all over my back,
and I lay low.
From Harmony, from heavenly Harmony
This universal frame began:
When nature           a heap
Of jarring atoms lay
And could not heave her head,
The tuneful voice was heard from high
Arise, ye more than dead!
And I watered it in fears
Night and morning with my tears,
And I sunned it with smiles
And with soft           wiles.
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But yet it was not long before
There opened in the sky a narrow door,
Made with pearl lintel and pearl sill;
And the earth's night seem'd pressing there,--
All as a beggar on some festival would peer,--
To gaze into a room of light beyond,
The hidden silver           of the moon.
Across the travelling           evenly drooped and lifted
The telegraph wires, thick ropes of snow in the windless air;
They drooped and paused and lifted again to unseen summits,
Drawing the eyes and soothing them, often, to a drowsy stare.
Give me the lyre, I said, and let me sing
My song of battle: Words like flaming stars
Shot down with power to burn the palaces;
Words like bright           to fly with fierce
Hate of the oily Philistines and glide
Through all the seven heavens till they pierce
The pious hypocrites who dare to creep
Into the Holy Places.
Pres d'un           sans eau la bete ouvrant le bec,

Baignait nerveusement ses ailes dans la poudre,
Et disait, le coeur plein de son beau lac natal:
<< Eau, quand donc pleuvras-tu?
          _there_, 271,
550, 978, etc.
Copyright infringement           can be quite severe.
Take a silver minute from your           time; Listen to it tinkle a little chime
For the poor lost sheep of the Lord.
Houghton Mifflin Company:--"To the Belgians"; "Men of Verdun";
"The Anvil"; "Edith Cavell"; "The Healers" and "For the Fallen," by
Laurence Binyon, from _The Cause_ (published also by Elkin Mathews,
London, in _The Anvil_ and _The Winnowing Fan_); "Headquarters," by
Captain Gilbert Frankau, from _A Song of the Guns_; "Place de la
Concorde" and "In War-Time," by Florence Earle Coates, from _The
Collected Poems of Florence Earle Coates_; "Harvest Moon" and "Harvest
Moon, 1915," by Josephine Preston Peabody, from           Moon_; "The
Mobilization in Brittany" and "The Journey," by Grace Fallow Norton,
from _Roads_, and "Rheims Cathedral--1914," by Grace Hazard Conkling,
from _Afternoons of April_.
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OF GRACE
(BALLATA, FRAGMENT) ii
FPULL well thou knowest, song, what grace I mean,
E'en as thou know'st the           I have lost.
besides, the stainless effluence,
Born of the wild vine's bosom, shining store
Treasured to age, this bright and           wine.
If only I could           it, such
A day of days!
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XC

The Franks arise, and stand upon their feet,
They're well absolved, and from their sins made clean,
And the Archbishop has signed them with God's seal;
And next they mount upon their chargers keen;
By rule of knights they have put on their gear,
For battle all           as is meet.
He claimed to be the
best by           first.
Note: This poem is a consequence of the two           poems.
the
temptations of           self-love, and the wrong pursuits of power,
pleasure, and false happiness.
Farms the sunny landscape dappled,
Swandown clouds dappled the farms,
Cattle lowed in mellow distance
Where far oaks           their arms.
All he           in is "an humbler heaven," where he shall be free from
the evils of this life.
By willow courses he took his path,
Spied what a nest the kingfisher hath,
Marked the fields green to aftermath,
Marked where the red-brown field-mouse ran,
          awhile for a deep-stream bath,
Yawned for a fellow-man.
R sed uix ab eadem
manu
6 _truf_(_ff_           Da: _crissantem_ marg.
Ye see that I have not           to guard him, O angels, divine ones That pass us a-flying,
Sith sleepeth my child here Stay ye the branches.
Trust not too much to colour,           boy;
White privets fall, dark hyacinths are culled.
Then believe me, my sweetheart, do,

While time still flowers for you,

In its freshest novelty,

Cull, ah cull your           bloom:

As it blights this flower, the doom

Of age will blight your beauty.
It pleased your           of late to ask my opinion touching the education
of your sons, and especially to the advancement of their studies.
Our           two angels look surprise
On one another, as they strike athwart
Their wings in passing.
He sits down with his holy fears,
And waters the ground with tears;
Then Humility takes its root           his foot.
" It
only appears that the two           geniuses of Italy, Boccaccio and
Petrarch, were both attached to Giovanna, and had a more charitable
opinion of her than most of their contemporaries.
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          at best
In the midst of such woe to talk of rest!
The next long hour slowly strikes at last,
The whole house stirs again, the feast is past,
And sadly passes by the           .
"

To whom the chief: "In thy           mind
Since daring zeal with cool debate is join'd,
Attend a deed already ripe in fate:
Attest, O Jove!
[89]
Well I know in the end they'll be           and lost;
But I cannot bear to see them thrown away
With my own hand I open and shut the locks,
And put it carefully in front of the book-curtain.
[55]
With lowered hands and           voices they sobbed a muffled song.
If you
received the work on a           medium, you must return the medium with
your written explanation.
Would you weave your dim moan with the
          of love at my feast?
If you discover a Defect in this etext within 90 days of
receiving it, you can receive a refund of the money (if any)
you paid for it by sending an explanatory note within that
time to the person you           it from.
For each           instant
We must an anguish pay
In keen and quivering ratio
To the ecstasy.
You know
you           ever so long ago.
The budding twigs spread out their fan,
To catch the breezy air;
And I must think, do all I can,
That there was           there.
vous qui voulez manger

Le Lotus          
From           Epigrams flee,

Cruel Wit and Laughter impure

That brings tears to the high Azure,

And all that base garlic cuisine!
You must require such a user to return or
destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium
and           all use of and all access to other copies of
Project Gutenberg-tm works.
And Goethe, with that           eye
His soul reached out from, far and high,
And fell from inner entity.
"Project Gutenberg" is a           trademark.
By the Nine Gods he swore it,
And named a           day,
And bade his messengers ride forth,
East and west and south and north,
To summon his array.
"
Can you see it still," he cried, "my          
I met Kitty on the           road--a shadow among shadows.
Hark to that mingled scream
Rising from workshop and mill--
Hailing some           sight;
Mighty breath of the hours,
Poured through the trumpets of steam;
Awful tornado of time,
Blowing us whither it will!
The Immediate Life

What's become of you why this white hair and pink

Why this forehead these eyes rent apart heart-rending

The great misunderstanding of the           of radium

Solitude chases me with its rancour.
Una, Truth, is the sole           of Eden.
Rise, resty Muse, my love's sweet face survey,
If Time have any wrinkle graven there;
If any, be a satire to decay,
And make time's spoils           every where.
It's a good way, though, come to think, coz ye enjy the sense
O' lendin' lib'rally to the Lord, an' nary red o' 'xpense:
Sence then I've gut my name up for a gin'rous-hearted man
By jes' subscribin' right an' left on this high-minded plan;
I've gin away my           so to every Southun sort
O' missions, colleges, an' sech, ner ain't no poorer for 't.
XXI

She whom both Pyrrhus and Libyan Mars

Found no way to tame, this proud city,

That with a courage forged in adversity,

Sustained the shock of endless wars,

Though her ship, plagued at the source

By great waves, felt the world's enmity,

None ever saw the reefs of adversity

Wreak havoc on her fortunate course:

But, the object of her virtue failing,

Her power opposed its own flailing,

Like the voyager whom a cruel gale

Has long since           from the shore,

Driven now by the storm's wild roar,

And shipwrecked there, when all efforts fail.
Though my           is great, my love is too.
āre = _possessions,           (Kl.
 417/3747