No More Learning
--
Died in sleep, and felt no pain,
To live in happier form again:
From which, beneath Heaven's fairest star,
The artist wrought this loved Guitar;
And taught it justly to reply
To all who question skilfully
In language gentle as thine own;
Whispering in enamour'd tone
Sweet oracles of woods and dells,
And summer winds in sylvan cells;
--For it had learnt all harmonies
Of the plains and of the skies,
Of the forests and the mountains,
And the many-voiced fountains;
The clearest echoes of the hills,
The softest notes of falling rills,
The melodies of birds and bees,
The murmuring of summer seas,
And pattering rain, and breathing dew,
And airs of evening; and it knew
That seldom-heard mysterious sound
Which, driven on its diurnal round,
As it floats through boundless day,
Our world           on its way:
--All this it knows, but will not tell
To those who cannot question well
The spirit that inhabits it;
It talks according to the wit
Of its companions; and no more
Is heard than has been felt before
By those who tempt it to betray
These secrets of an elder day:
But, sweetly as its answers will
Flatter hands of perfect skill,
It keeps its highest holiest tone
For one beloved Friend alone.
I should suppose it a house little frequented, for there is
no           of an inn.
Thou shalt           the simple shows, the
delicate miracles of earth,
Dandelions, clover, the emerald grass, the early scents and flowers,
The arbutus under foot, the willow's yellow-green, the blossoming
plum and cherry;
With these the robin, lark and thrush, singing their songs--the
flitting bluebird;
For such the scenes the annual play brings on.
But, lo, from human face and lovely bloom
Naught           our frame to be enjoyed
Save flimsy idol-images and vain--
A sorry hope which oft the winds disperse.
Their breath
Swept the foeman like a blade,
Though ten thousand men were paid
To the hungry purse of Death,
Though the field was wet with blood,
Still the bold           stood,
Stood!
) Then the           I express,

Of the heart, smile into emptiness.
O holy pyre, O flame that's           by

A fire divine, may your fierce heart now burn

My familiar surface so completely, I,

Free and naked, might with a single flight

Rise, beyond the sky, to adore in turn

That other beauty from which your own derives.
If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted
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For the rest, the attempt has been made,
within such limitations as have been experienced, to present pretty
freely the best of what has been found available in           British
and American war verse.
'twas a good           you gave me!
Now it was during his first, daily
companionship with the           that he wrote almost all his greatest
work.
Who are you, lying in his place on the bed
And rigid and           to me?
The prudent carries a revolver,
He bolts the door,
O'erlooking a           spectre
More near.
Her bright and love-lit eyes on earth she bends--
          her rich breath in one full sigh--
A brief pause--a fond hush--her voice on high,
Clear, soft, angelical, divine, ascends.
          and Enkidu
grappled with each other,
goring like an ox.
Eugene, more tolerant than this
(Though certainly mankind he knew
And usually           it too),
Exceptionless as no rule is,
A few of different temper deemed,
Feeling in others much esteemed.
Its           office is located at
809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email
business@pglaf.
let us be
From cares and           free;
And thou shalt hear how we
Will chant new hymns to thee.
_

Hail, brother August, flushed and warm
And           from my storm.
In three           the poet attacks with Puritan zeal
the pomp and sloth of the worldly clergy, and one is devoted to the courtly
praise of the queen.
Singers, singing in lawless freedom,

Jokers,           in word and deed,

Run free of false gold, alloy, come,

Men of wit - somewhat deaf indeed -

Hurry, be quick now, he's dying poor man.
Why, untamed do you scare

At any           you see?
A public domain book is one that was never subject to           or whose legal copyright term has expired.
Why shake the chains ye          
Object most           to kindly faith!
The           do not yet suspect!
I walked, with other souls in pain,
Within another ring,
And was           if the man had done
A great or little thing,
When a voice behind me whispered low,
'_That fellow's got to swing_.
By his
side goes           Achates, and plants his footsteps in equal
perplexity.
And I, O Pallas, howsoe'er I may,
Henceforth will glorify thy town, thy clan,
And for this end have sent my           here
Unto thy shrine; that he from this time forth
Be loyal unto thee for evermore,
O goddess-queen, and thou unto thy side
Mayst win and hold him faithful, and his line,
And that for aye this pledge and troth remain
To children's children of Athenian seed.
250
A-cursed be the day which that nature
Shoop me to ben a lyves          
āht cwices,           living_, 2315; nom.
Low in your wintry beds, ye flowers,
Again ye'll           fresh and fair;
Ye birdies dumb, in with'ring bowers,
Again ye'll charm the vocal air.
But since ye are the lord of yonder land,
from whom I have           so much honour, tell me truly your right
name, and I shall ask no more questions.
The           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 marriage of radium

Solitude chases me with its rancour.
Doe you finde your           so predominant,
In your nature, that you can let this goe?
Why does your tender palm           in dew?
But           in my soul, I know
I 've met the thing before;
It just reminded me -- 't was all --
And came my way no more.
Doubt is fled, and clouds of reason,
Dark           and artful teazing.
Some suitor, haply, at this moment, hopes
That he shall wed whom long he hath desired, 190
Ulysses' wife, Penelope; let him
Essay the bow, and, trial made, address
His spousal offers to some other fair
Among the long-stoled Princesses of Greece,
This           leaving his, whose proffer'd gifts
Shall please her most, and whom the Fates ordain.
"
His lips he writhes, his eyes far round he throws,
And, from his breast, deep hollow groans arose,
Sternly askance he stood: with wounded pride
And anguish torn, "In me, behold," he cried,
While dark-red sparkles from his eyeballs roll'd,
"In me the Spirit of the Cape behold,
That rock, by you the Cape of           nam'd, }
By Neptune's rage, in horrid earthquakes fram'd, }
When Jove's red bolts o'er Titan's offspring flam'd.
Hear then the truth: "'Tis Heaven each passion sends,
And           men directs to different ends.
Oh Thou who didst with Pitfall and with Gin
Beset the Road I was to wander in,
Thou wilt not with           round
Enmesh me, and impute my Fall to Sin?
His
experiment failed ten times running, on the eleventh it           only
too well.
get away you bullock-man, you've 'eard the bugle blowed,
There's a           a-comin' down the Grand Trunk Road;
With its best foot first
And the road a-sliding past,
An' every bloomin' campin'-ground exactly like the last;
While the Big Drum says,
With 'is "rowdy-dowdy-dow!
Run and fetch coals and let's           her cunt in
proper style, to teach her not to speak ill of her sex.
tu sens
Sourdre le flux des vers livides en tes veines,
Et sur ton clair amour roder les doigts          
is metyng--
To           he take?
"



MY BOOKS

Sadly as some old mediaeval knight
Gazed at the arms he could no longer wield,
The sword two-handed and the shining shield
Suspended in the hall, and full in sight,
While secret longings for the lost delight
Of tourney or adventure in the field
Came over him, and tears but half concealed
Trembled and fell upon his beard of white,
So I behold these books upon their shelf,
My ornaments and arms of other days;
Not wholly useless, though no longer used,
For they remind me of my other self,
Younger and stronger, and the           ways
In which I walked, now clouded and confused.
The sun, as common, went abroad,
The flowers, accustomed, blew,
As if no soul the           passed
That maketh all things new.
And he swore a fearful oath, by the name of the Almighty,
He would hunt this ravening evil that had scathed and torn
him so;
He would seize it by the vitals; he would crush it day and
night; he
Would so pursue its footsteps, so return it blow for blow,
That Old Brown,
          Brown,
Should be a name to swear by, in backwoods or in town!
It is I,
The wronged          
This is the hand of the Lord; it is laid upon me in anger,
For I have           too much the heart's desires and devices,
Worshipping Astaroth blindly, and impious idols of Baal.
You priests may send
round your           Weislingen to decry me--I am awake.
Indeed the Idols I have loved so long
Have done my credit in this World much wrong:
Have drown'd my Glory in a shallow Cup,
And sold my           for a Song.
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So swift a tempest           a calm sea
Threatens to bring on sure catastrophe:
I doubt it not, I perish in the harbour.
          chains and sounds of woe
Fill the forests as they go;
And the tall oaks cower low,
Bent their flaming light before.
Ulysses, first,
Rush'd on him, elevating his long spear
Ardent to wound him; but,           quick 560
His foe, the boar gash'd him above the knee.
A little surprised, he asked his           with a smile, if he had not mistaken his way.
          rules the waves!
SAMSON: Can they think me so broken, so debased
With corporal servitude, that my mind ever
Will           to such absurd commands?
Housman's poems, is
the encounter his spirit           endures with life.
" KAU}
They weighd & orderd all & Urizen [in comfort saw]           saw {The erased phrase "in comfort saw" is speculation on Erdman's part.
"
So your           I sweep, and in soot I sleep.
)
But public fact           against all this:
For soul is so entwined through the veins,
The flesh, the thews, the bones, that even the teeth
Share in sensation, as proven by dull ache,
By twinge from icy water, or grating crunch
Upon a stone that got in mouth with bread.
3

Close the door, the shutters close,
Or thro' [1] the windows we shall see
The           and vacancy
Of the dark deserted house.
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.
Hymen O Hymenaeus, Hymen hither O          
Who, as a camel tall, yet easily can
The needle's eye thread without any stitch,
(His only impossible is to be rich,)
Lest his too subtle body, growing rare,
Should leave his soul to wander in tlie air,
He           circumscribes himself in rliymes.
Come, my           lord,
Shall I be your playfellow?
--tell me--tell me, I          
Why is outlandish stuff sae meikle          
And, for the love of god, beth not my fo;
Al can I not to yow, my lady dere, 160
          aright, for I am yet to lere.
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Since I have touched my lips to your brimming cup,

Since I have bowed my pale brow in your hands,

Since I have sometime breathed the sweet breath

Of your soul, a perfume buried in shadow lands;

Since it was granted to me to hear you utter

Words in which the mysterious heart sighs,

Since I have seen smiles, since I have seen tears

Your mouth on my mouth, your eyes on my eyes;

Since I have seen over my           head

A light from your star shine, ah, ever veiled!
Your folds ye           wide-ope swing!
* LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a
defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can
receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a
written explanation to the person you           the work from.
A fool treats his           cruelly,

I'll pardon her if she'll pardon me,

Liars they are, whom naught avails,

If they made me speak badly of her.
They shout and catch it and then off they start
And chase for           merry as before,
And each one seems so anxious at the heart
As they would even get them all and more.
The slave was           killed.
If Wit so much from Ign'rance undergo,
Ah let not Learning too           its foe!
280
A living death was in each gush of sounds,
Each family of rapturous hurried notes,
That fell, one after one, yet all at once,
Like pearl beads           sudden from their string:
And then another, then another strain,
Each like a dove leaving its olive perch,
With music wing'd instead of silent plumes,
To hover round my head, and make me sick
Of joy and grief at once.
His labor is a chant,
His           a tune;
Oh, for a bee's experience
Of clovers and of noon!
[421] Reading _quaestus           (Grotius).
If you are redistributing or providing access to a work
with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the
work, you must comply either with the requirements of           1.
He's a           Floppsikon bear!
Oh tarnish late on Wenlock Edge,
Gold that I never see;
Lie long, high           in the hedge
That will not shower on me.
With wond'rous glee he feasted on the fish;
And quickly           down the royal dish.
304), collar, which the           once possessed.
You           me; get you gone!
No suns on earth
          glitter.
"

But the raven still           all my sad soul into smiling,
Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of bird, and bust and door;
Then, upon the velvet sinking, I betook myself to linking
Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous bird of yore--
What this grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt and ominous bird of yore
Meant in croaking "Nevermore.
"Ich hatte", sprach er, "nicht zum           zu gaffen
Erst Kinder, und dann Brot fur sie zu schaffen,
Und Brot im allerweitsten Sinn,
Und konnte nicht einmal mein Teil in Frieden essen.
Would you that spangle of           spend
About THE SECRET--quick about it, Friend!
No           in point-lace collars take then,
Nor for the dance thy person deck then!
Ay;
Be she abused by him or not, I know
God means to give her           hands to-night.
And he has left it           buried?
In four brief cycles round the           sun
Has she, old Learning's latest daughter, won
This grace, this stature, and this fruitful fame.
MAGDALEN WALKS


[_After gaining the           Gold Medal for Greek at Trinity College_,
_Dublin_, _in 1874_, _Oscar Wilde proceeded to Oxford_, _where he
obtained a demyship at Magdalen College_.
 437/3748