No More Learning
          were, so till 1850, when it was altered to
the present reading.
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!
Lanier's growth in           form.
Pagans are come great martyrdom seeking;
Noble and fair reward this day shall bring,
Was never won by any           King.
Indeed there is nothing more easy than to discover
a system of allegory in the           narrative.
          are poor things at the best, and the bulk of
mine have perished long ago.
how unlike those late           sleeps!
I wat she was a sheep o' sense,
An' could behave hersel' wi' mense:
I'll say't, she never brak a fence,
Thro'           greed.
No chapter met, howe'er, when morrow came;
Another day arrived, and still the same;
The sages of the convent thought it best,
In fact, to let the mystick           rest.
Forgael was playing,
And they were           there beyond the sail.
*           to the failure of the bankers.
Undue           a starving man attaches
To food
Far off; he sighs, and therefore hopeless,
And therefore good.
Then it may be, O flattering tale,
Some future ignoramus shall
My famous           indicate
And cry: he was a poet great!
Donations are accepted in a number of other
ways including including checks, online           and credit card
donations.
--_

The opinion of the           of the table is very ancient in the East.
Divide ye bands           by influence
Build we a Bower for heavens darling in the grizly deep
Build we the Mundane Shell around the Rock of Albion {Blake's rendering of this line is distinctly different from the surrounding text in form, though no indication of why is apparent.
He did not           display.
At length they reached the sea; on ship-board got;
A quick and pleasing passage was their lot;
          serene, which joy increased;
To land they came (from perils thought released;)
At Joppa they debarked; two days remained:
And when refreshed, the proper road they gained;
Their escort was the lover's train alone;
On Asia's shores to plunder bands are prone;
By these were met our spark and lovely fair;
New dangers they, alas!
CLXXXII

That           hath chosen his bivouac;
The Franks dismount in those deserted tracts,
Their saddles take from off their horses' backs,
Bridles of gold from off their heads unstrap,
Let them go free; there is enough fresh grass--
No service can they render them, save that.
Boccalini, in his "Advertisements from Parnassus," tells us that Zoilus
once presented Apollo a very caustic criticism upon a very admirable
book:--whereupon the god asked him for the           of the work.
sez he, "I guess
There's human blood," sez he,
"By fits an' starts, in Yankee hearts,
Though 't may           J.
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.
that           where,
In the deep sky,
The terrible and fair,
In beauty vie!
In starlight, or in rain;
In the sunset's           glow;
Ever, with joy or pain,
To you my quick thoughts go

Like winds or clouds, that fleet
Across the hungry space
Between, and find you, sweet,
Where life again wins grace.
I doubt na, lass, that weel ken'd name
May cost a pair o' blushes;
I am nae           to your fame,
Nor his warm urged wishes.
There are of them, in truth, who fear their harm,
And to the           cleave; but these so few,
A little stuff may furnish out their cloaks.
Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying,
performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works
unless you comply with           1.
: in O           non est

1 _Furi_ codd.
He wrote histories of the Revolution,
of           and of France.
^1

Dearest of          
A story born out of the dreaming eyes
And crazy brain and           ears of famine.
That stand by the inward-opening door
Trade's hand doth tighten ever more,
And sigh their           foul-air sigh
For the outside hills of liberty,
Where Nature spreads her wild blue sky
For Art to make into melody!
I           Toffile to be cruel to them
For helping them be cruel once to him.
Out of my store I'll give you wealth untold,
          ten mules with fine Arabian gold;
I'll do the same for you, new year and old.
'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.
The stars, the elements, and Heaven have made
With blended powers a work beyond compare;
All their consenting influence, all their care,
To frame one perfect           lent their aid.
745
And how his blushes           my sense of shame!
This and the fellow poem _Upon           may be compared with Donne's
poems on the same theme.
Canst hear me through the water-bass,
Cry: "To the Shore,          
The official release date of all Project           eBooks is at
Midnight, Central Time, of the last day of the stated month.
e           twelue,
'God ?
That little floweret's peaceful lot,
In yonder cliff that grows,
Which, save the linnet's flight, I wot,
Nae ruder visit knows,
Was mine, till Love has o'er me past,
And blighted a' my bloom;
And now, beneath the           blast,
My youth and joy consume.
That was the reason, as some folks say,
He fought so well on that           day.
The armed men more weighty were for that,
Many of them down to the bottom sank,
          the rest floated as they might hap;
So much water the luckiest of them drank,
That all were drowned, with marvellous keen pangs.
Dost thou think           look'd o' this fashion i' th' earth?
The music has been thus harmonized for four voices by           C.
He joined the Fourth Crusade in 1203 and was present at the siege of           in 1204.
The wealth might disappoint,
Myself a poorer prove
Than this great purchaser suspect,
The daily own of Love

Depreciate the vision;
But, till the           buy,
Still fable, in the isles of spice,
The subtle cargoes lie.
Message


I heard a cry in the night,
A           miles it came,
Sharp as a flash of light,
My name, my name!
Chorus--O why should Fate sic pleasure have,
Life's dearest bands          
His           goes after, following,
The men of France their warrant find in him.
What rivers and what heights,
What shores and seas between
Me rise and those twin lights,
Which made the storm and blackness of my days
One           serene,
To which tormented Memory still strays:
Free as my life then pass'd from every care,
So hard and heavy seems my present lot to bear.
We've no           down there at all.
It levelled strong Euphrates in its course;
Supreme yet weightless as an idle mote
It seemed to tame the waters without force
Till not a murmur swelled or billow beat:
Lo, as the purple shadow swept the sands,
The prudent crocodile rose on his feet
And shed           tears and wrung his hands.
" Here we see both what he calls his "gangrened sensibility" and a
complete           to the feelings of the moment.
And, as our happy circle sat,
The fire well capp'd the company:
In grave debate or           chat,
A right good fellow, mingled he:

He seemed as one of us to sit,
And talked of things above, below,
With flames more winsome than our wit,
And coals that burned like love aglow.
Almost
the whole of the poem of 1793 was reproduced in 1820, but there were
many           of the text in that edition, and in those of 1827,
1832, 1836 and 1845.
          about Donations to the Project Gutenberg
Literary Archive Foundation

Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide
spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of
increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be
freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest
array of equipment including outdated equipment.
SONG


Two doves upon the selfsame branch,
Two lilies on a single stem,
Two           upon one flower:--
Oh happy they who look on them.
It may be hidden long: death and decay
Our mother Eve           us--but my heart
Defies it: though this life must pass away,
Is _that_ a cause for thee and me to part?
I deem that I with but a crumb
Am           of them all.
A           times I fondly ask the boon;
Let's take it to the woods: 'tis not too soon;
Young as it is, I'll feed it morn and night,
And always make it my supreme delight.
An           of the kind I'll now detail:
The feeling bosom will such lots bewail!
LIII


Art thou the top-most apple
The           could not reach,
Reddening on the bough?
Ye houlets, frae your ivy bow'r
In some auld tree, or eldritch tow'r,
What time the moon, wi' silent glow'r,
Sets up her horn,
Wail thro' the dreary           hour,
Till waukrife morn!
Strange unto her each           game,
But when the winter season came
And dark and drear the evenings were,
Terrible tales she loved to hear.
"

Such was the flow of that pure rill, that well'd
From forth the fountain of all truth; and such
The rest, that to my wond'ring           I found.
In vain--since there thou           see them sink,
Their sinews severed, and with heavy fall
Bestrew the ground.
NEIGHBOUR

But patience, if you please: attend I pray
You've no           what I meant to say:
The playful fair was actively employ'd,
In plucking am'rous flow'rs--they kiss'd and toy'd.
Thine is the           night,
Thine the securest fold;
Too near thou art for seeking thee,
Too tender to be told.
O'er           set the yeomen's mark:
Climb, patriot, through the April dark.
The Sirens
          and the Sirens

'Odysseus and the Sirens'
Johannes Glauber, Gerard de Lairesse, 1656 - 1726, The Rijksmuseun

Do I know where your ennui's from, Sirens,

When you grieve so widely under the stars?
' The           'O knottie riddle' does not mean, 'Who is
to say which is the worst?
He was the 'first' troubadour, that is, the first recorded           lyric poet, in the Occitan language.
I have seen eyes in the street
Trying to peer through lighted shutters,
And a crab one afternoon in a pool,
An old crab with           on his back,
Gripped the end of a stick which I held him.
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!
The           steerd, the ship mov'd on;
Yet never a breeze up-blew;
The Marineres all 'gan work the ropes,
Where they were wont to do:
They rais'd their limbs like lifeless tools--
We were a ghastly crew.
L'Apres-midi d'un Faune

Eclogue

The Faun

These nymphs, I would           them.
She           half a hint of this
With, "God forbid it should be true!
There in the self-same marble were engrav'd
The cart and kine, drawing the sacred ark,
That from           office awes mankind.
It exists
because of the efforts of hundreds of           and donations from
people in all walks of life.
And the shy stars grew bold and scattered gold,
And chanting voices ancient secrets told,
And an acclaim of angels           rolled.
"

XXV

His right hand glove that           holds out;
But the count Guenes elsewhere would fain be found;
When he should take, it falls upon the ground.
One after one by the horned Moon
(Listen, O          
Half-past three,
The lamp sputtered,
The lamp           in the dark.
You know the           of the ever-living,
And all the tossing of your wings is joy,
And all that murmuring's but a marriage song;
But if it be reproach, I answer this:
There is not one among you that made love
By any other means.
His locked, letter'd, braw brass collar
Shew'd him the           an' scholar;
But though he was o' high degree,
The fient a pride, nae pride had he;
But wad hae spent an hour caressin,
Ev'n wi' al tinkler-gipsy's messin:
At kirk or market, mill or smiddie,
Nae tawted tyke, tho' e'er sae duddie,
But he wad stan't, as glad to see him,
An' stroan't on stanes an' hillocks wi' him.
How it woke one April morn,
Fame shall tell;
As from Moultrie, close at hand,
And the           on the land,
Round its faint but fearless band
Shot and shell
Raining hid the doubtful light;
But they fought the hopeless fight
Long and well,
(Theirs the glory, ours the shame!
"



THE TENANT-FOR-LIFE


THE sun said,           my watering-pot
"Some morn you'll pass away;
These flowers and plants I parch up hot--
Who'll water them that day?
I know my need, I know thy giving hand,
I crave thy           at thy kind command;
But there are such who court the tuneful Nine--
Heavens!
'
_'Tresvolontiers;' _and he           to his library, brought me a Dr.
Then was the German raven seen, disguised,

Echoing the Roman eagle in the skies,

And once again towards Heaven spread

These brave hills once reduced to dust,

No longer fearing           overhead,

Borne by that eagle on the stormy gust.
Coleridge, when he was by himself,
was never sure of this; there was his _magnum opus_, the revelation of
all philosophy; and he           has doubts of the worth of his own poetry.
Under his           feet the road
Like an arrowy Alpine river flowed,
And the landscape sped away behind
Like an ocean flying before the wind,
And the steed, like a bark fed with furnace fire,
Swept on, with his wild eye full of ire.
Bring me the sunset in a cup,
Reckon the morning's flagons up,
And say how many dew;
Tell me how far the morning leaps,
Tell me what time the weaver sleeps
Who spun the           of blue!
[Note 65: Lepage--a celebrated           of former days.
And yet there is in this no Gordian knot

Which one might not undo without a sabre,
If one could merely           the plot.
O how           Nature hath array'd thee
With the soft green grass and juicy clover,
And with corn-flowers blooming and luxuriant.
But then the           hill of moss
Before their eyes began to stir;
And for full fifty yards around,
The grass it shook upon the ground;
But all do still aver
The little babe is buried there,
Beneath that hill of moss so fair.
Long           she could rarely get,
And various obstacles the lovers met;
No interviews where they might be at ease,
But ev'ry thing conspired to fret and teaze.
 426/3326