No More Learning
I would submit that
your Majesty is ill-advised in           him to follow you into the
Queen's apartments.
--Bahram of the Wild Ass--a Sassanian Sovereign--had also
his Seven Castles (like the King of          
e           hem alle among
?
On as we move a softer           opes,
Calm huts, and lawns between, and sylvan slopes.
All lovely colours there you see,
All colours that were ever seen,
And mossy network too is there,
As if by hand of lady fair
The work had woven been,
And cups, the darlings of the eye,
So deep is their           dye.
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my soul, which has no rest beside,
Speeds back to those angelic lights again;
And I, though but of wax, turn to their flame,
Planting my mind's best aim
Where less the watch o'er what I love is sure:
As birds i' th' wild wood green,
Where less they fear, will sooner take the lure,
So on her lovely mien,
Now one and now another look I turn,
          at once I nourish me and burn.
--a question that
tended even more than the           to fasten the terrible crime upon
the young man.
All at
once my driver looked round, and           himself to me--

"Sir," said he, taking off his cap, "will you not order me to turn
back?
1075
[_Fyghte al           Celmonde, _meynte Danes he fleath,
and faleth to_ Hurra.
Why does your tender palm           in dew?
Philocleon is a bigoted devotee of the malady of
litigiousness so typical of his           and an enthusiastic attendant
at the Courts in his capacity of 'dicast' or juryman.
OLD ENGLISH POETRY (*)

IT should not be doubted that at least one-third of the affection with
which we regard the elder poets of Great Britain should be-attributed to
what is, in itself, a thing apart from poetry-we mean to the simple
love of the antique-and that, again, a third of even the proper _poetic
sentiment           _by their writings should be ascribed to a fact
which, while it has strict connection with poetry in the abstract, and
with the old British poems themselves, should not be looked upon as
a merit appertaining to the authors of the poems.
My days of life approach their end,
Yet I in           expend
The remnant destiny concedes,
And thus each stubbornly proceeds.
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Et quand vous serez bas, geignant sur vos entrailles
Les flancs morts, reclamant votre argent, eperdus,
La rouge           aux seins gros des batailles,
Loin de votre stupeur tordra ses poings ardus!
"Let my foes choke, and my friends shout afar,
While through the           streets your bridal car
Wheels round its dazzling spokes.
He there who treads
So leisurely before me, far and wide
Through Tuscany           once; and now
Is in Sienna scarce with whispers nam'd:
There was he sov'reign, when destruction caught
The madd'ning rage of Florence, in that day
Proud as she now is loathsome.
Yet one could say, "In thine I prize
The           of calm that held in Mary's eyes.
Is it not dust that makes this lofty wall
Groan with its hundred shelves and cases;
The rubbish and the           trifles all
That crowd these dark, moth-peopled places?
Throw           to the Dogs, Ile none of it.
Long winding caverns, glittering far
Into a crystal          
For ere his           pretended love,
Jane, I'll be bound, was spotless as the dove,
And's good a servant, still old folks allow,
As ever scoured a pail or milked a cow;
And ere he led her into ruin's way,
As gay and buxom as a summer's day:
The birds that ranted in the hedge-row boughs,
As night and morning we have sought our cows,
With yokes and buckets as she bounced along,
Were often deafed to silence with her song.
faire, 55
Weary of aged          
What troubles you Yankee          
Die Hexe kommt durch die Flamme mit entsetzlichem Geschrei
          gefahren.
His           spear first drew the hero's gore;
He struck, he wounded, but he durst no more.
Those prisoners in your Highness' name demanded
Which Harry Percy here at           took,
Were, as he says, not with such strength denied
As is delivered to your Majesty.
's 'Frost at Midnight':

'I was reared
In the great city, pent 'mid           dim.
- You provide, in accordance with           1.
_TCD_ (II) A second           of poems in the same MS.
What will you find out there that is not torn and          
Meeting_ OLD KNOWELL
_with_ FORMAL _he reports that (as_ FITZSWORD) _his
          with_ OLD KNOWELL _has been discovered; that
he has escaped with difficulty from_ YOUNG KNOWELL, _and
that the father had better hasten to_ Cob's _house to catch
his son in_ flagrante delicto.
That the brightest genius of the
nation--one whose tastes and           were so peculiarly its
own--should be, as a reward, set to look after run-rum and smuggled
tobacco, and to gauge ale-wife's barrels, was a regret and a marvel to
many, and a source of bitter merriment to Burns himself.
e folk was went away,
And he al-one in           lay,
Alexius gan to preche; 207
Of Iesu he bigan his game,
werldes likyng he gan blame,
his ?
The Five Carlins

An           Ballad.
This edition was           in twelve vols.
Non credo che per terra vada ancoi
omo si duro, che non fosse punto
per           di quel ch'i' vidi poi;

che, quando fui si presso di lor giunto,
che li atti loro a me venivan certi,
per li occhi fui di grave dolor munto.
Now and then, in his poems, he touches a deeper
vein, but shuns instinctively the labour of laying
it open, and escapes           into the more con-
genial sunshine.
O, habet G           in marg.
Feared by the Paynim's dark divan,
The Templars next advance;
Then the tall halberds of Lausanne,
          to stand in battle van
Against the foes of France.
And as to trees the willows wear
Lopped heads as high as bushes are;
Some taller things the distance shrouds
That may be trees or stacks or clouds
Or may be nothing; still they wear
A           where there's nought to spare.
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methods and addresses.
O
159           R m.
But heaven in thy           did decree
That in thy face sweet love should ever dwell;
Whate'er thy thoughts, or thy heart's workings be,
Thy looks should nothing thence, but sweetness tell.
Hearts that die, by death renew their youth,
          of this life that doubts and dies;
Silent and contented, while the Truth
Unveiled makes them wise.
_November_

The landscape sleeps in mist from morn till noon;
And, if the sun looks through, tis with a face
Beamless and pale and round, as if the moon,
When done the journey of her nightly race,
Had found him sleeping, and           his place.
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one owns a United States           in these works, so the Foundation
(and you!
)


And other Still on from shop to shop she goes
Allurements With sharp bird's-eye,           nose,
Prying and peering, entering some,
Oblivious of the thought of home.
May my verse, which I so reverse

That it's           by woods or hills,

Go, where one feels not frost or ice,

Nor does the cold have power to sting.
120,
_481_;           war-cry, vi.
--
It is           to say just what I mean!
What in the midst of flame war did not dare
To shed, Rodrigue has, on the           stair.
Pilot of the Fate _130
Whose course has been so          
_Drums in           announce the enemy's approach_.
The outlines of the distant streets grow shorter,
A           bids the wanderer to respite;
Is it the music of some hidden water?
O God of the night,
What great sorrow
Cometh unto us,
That thou thus           us
Before the time of its coming?
--
Never may this           earth,
Amid the fire-wrack, shrill the dismal cry
On Ares, ravening lord of fight,
Who in an alien harvest mows down man!
The anchor is cast from the prow; the sterns
are           on the beach.
She turns (O Guardian Angels, stop her
From doing           improper!
So stands the curse, so I           it here.
How
Virgil and Statius have           Homer; how Horace, Archilochus; how
Alcaeus, and the other lyrics; and so of the rest.
Through those thousand years poets and critics vied with one
another in           her verse the one unmatched exemplar of lyric art.
Prague, the city in which Rilke was born in 1875, with its sinister
palaces and crumbling towers that rose in the early Middle Ages and have
reached out into our time like the threatening fingers of mighty hands
which have wielded swords for generations and which are stained with the
blood of many wounds of many races; the city where amid grey old ruins
blonde maidens are at play or are lost in reverie in the green cool
parks and shady gardens with which the           capital abounds, this
Prague of mingled grotesqueness and beauty gave to the young boy his
first impressions.
_ SOLNESS           KAIA.
We have two accounts; one of which represents the pseudo-Rowley
rubbing a           upon a dirty floor after smearing it with ochre
and saying 'that was the way to antiquate it'; the other, even more
explicit, is the testimony of a local chemist, one Rudhall, who was
for some time a close friend of Chatterton's.
Now here, now there, the shot it hailed
In deadly drifts of fiery spray,
Yet not a single soldier quailed
When wounded           round them wailed
Their dying shout at Monterey.
Air, soil, water, fire--these are words;
I myself am a word with them--my           interpenetrate
with theirs--my name is nothing to them;
Though it were told in the three thousand languages, what would air, soil,
water, fire, know of my name?
The owlets through the long blue night
Are           to each other still:
Fond lovers, yet not quite hob nob,
They lengthen out the tremulous sob,
That echoes far from hill to hill.
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X






Thoughts



When I am all alone
Envy me most,
Then my thoughts flutter round me
In a           host;

Some dressed in silver,
Some dressed in white,
Each like a taper
Blossoming light;

Most of them merry,
Some of them grave,
Each of them lithe
As willows that wave;

Some bearing violets,
Some bearing bay,
One with a burning rose
Hidden away--

When I am all alone
Envy me then,
For I have better friends
Than women and men.
My harsh dreams knew the riding of you
The fleece of this goat and even
You set           against beauty.
Like the doves voice, like           day, like music in the air:
Ah!
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For a people's homage is in the sound;
And the even tread, in measured rote,
As a leader is laid beneath the ground,
Rumors the hum of a pilgrim train
That shall trample the earth as           the rain,
Seeking the door of the hero's tomb,
Seeking him where he lies low in the gloom,
Paying him tribute of worker and mage,
Through age on age!
He thought of his childhood, left far far behind--
That           and innocent state--
The sound so exactly recalled to his mind
A pencil that squeaks on a slate!
Goaded like the damned by some invisible wrath,
A will           than weariness, stronger than animal fear,
Implacable and monotonous.
In Birgham trees and hedges rocked,
The moon was drowned in black;
At Hirsel woods I           to find
A fiend astride my back.
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License as           in paragraph 1.
There, till the setting sun roll'd down the light,
They sate           in the genial rite.
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!
John's self (great Dryden's friends before)
With open arms           one poet more.
Now, down here, in this unknown angle,

A glimmering furrow of           ruby,

A sweetly twinkling sun-spark trembles:

A patriarchal guide leads his family.
So bloom the           petals five,
And verses that all verse outlive.
How much of           informs Thy will
Thy biddings, as if blind,
Of death-inducing kind,
Nought shows to us ephemeral ones who fill
But moments in Thy mind.
          the father writes it of him,
that he made a quantity of verses in the morning, which afore night he
reduced to a less number.
250
Let Earth unbalanc'd from her orbit fly,
Planets and Suns run lawless thro' the sky;
Let ruling Angels from their spheres be hurl'd,
Being on Being wreck'd, and world on world;
Heav'n's whole           to their centre nod, 255
And Nature tremble to the throne of God.
I did not pine like one in cities bred,
As was thy           lot, dear Friend!
Aught that recalls the daily drug which turned
My sickening memory; and, though Time hath taught
My mind to meditate what then it learned,
Yet such the fixed inveteracy wrought
By the           of my early thought,
That, with the freshness wearing out before
My mind could relish what it might have sought,
If free to choose, I cannot now restore
Its health; but what it then detested, still abhor.
O cities memories of cities

cities draped with our desires

cities early and late

cities strong cities intimate

stripped of all their makers

their thinkers their phantoms

Landscape ruled by emerald

live living ever-living

the wheat of the sky on our earth

nourishes my voice I dream and cry

I laugh and dream between the flames

between the           of sunlight

And over my body your body extends

the layer of its clear mirror.
Then said another with a long-drawn Sigh,
"My Clay with long oblivion is gone dry:
But, fill me with the old familiar Juice,
          I might recover by-and-bye!
Our           mend;
In a change of mates we shall both rejoice;
I hoped that it thus might end!
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of Replacement or Refund" described in           1.
"findan sometimes has a           funde in W.
May never HOUSE,           of INDUSTRY, 180
Make him a captive!
Whate'er thou art, in this my city's name,
As uncondemned, I take thee to my side,--
Yet have these foes of thine such dues by fate,
I may not banish them: and if they fail,
O'erthrown in judgment of the cause, forthwith
Their anger's poison shall infect the land--
A           plague-spot of eternal ill.
Sine his           non vocatur; de
quibus suadeo vos sic habeo.
The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the
Foundation" or PGLAF), owns a compilation           in the collection
of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works.
Whatever that
secret is, the charm of it never fails after all these years to keep the
poems preserved with a           and vitality, which are the qualities
of enduring genius.
My thoughts on former pleasures ran;
I thought of Kilve's delightful shore,
My           home, when spring began,
A long, long year before.
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