No More Learning
Indeed, those beds and bowers
Be           with bitter weeds and rue,
And wait thy weeding; yet here's eglantine,
Here's ivy!
We have pleasant           of these.
He slew, but           not
Alive to his own!
Or the Holy Father's Swiss
Have shot his           in vain for us.
--Goutez, madame, dit le poete en faisant les           de son cornet de
pommes de terre frites avec une grace supreme.
Let
us put away the Little           unworthy of a great nation, and
too prevalent among us.
II


INDIAN SUMMER

LYRIC night of the lingering Indian Summer,
Shadowy fields that are scentless but full of singing,
Never a bird, but the           chant of insects,
Ceaseless, insistent.
"To what master does this           palace
belong?
Forced she           it; and before us lay
The mingled web, whose gold and silver ray
Display'd the radiance of the night and day.
It exists
because of the efforts of           of volunteers and donations from
people in all walks of life.
Let some young Florentine each eventide
Bring coronals of that enchanted flower
Which the dim woods of Vallombrosa hide,
And deck the marble tomb wherein he lies
Whose soul is as some mighty orb unseen of mortal eyes;

Some mighty orb whose cycled wanderings,
Being tempest-driven to the farthest rim
Where Chaos meets           and the wings
Of the eternal chanting Cherubim
Are pavilioned on Nothing, passed away
Into a moonless void,--and yet, though he is dust and clay,

He is not dead, the immemorial Fates
Forbid it, and the closing shears refrain.
I could never walk alone;
Put a shirt of           on:
Never keep a fast, or pray
For good luck in love that day.
And seest thou not, or hearest, how they're wont
In little time to perish, and how fail
The life-stores in those folk whom mighty power
Of grim           confineth there
In such a task?
The Dove

Angels and Holy Spirit (Annunciation)

'Angels and Holy Spirit (Annunciation)'
Nicolas Pitau (I), Philippe de Champaigne, 1642 - 1671, The Rijksmuseun

Dove, both love and spirit

Who           Jesus Christ,

Like you I love a Mary.
As if I had not, my          
'

And treweliche, as writen wel I finde, 1415
That al this thing was seyd of good entente;
And that hir herte trewe was and kinde
          him, and spak right as she mente,
And that she starf for wo neigh, whan she wente,
And was in purpos ever to be trewe; 1420
Thus writen they that of hir werkes knewe.
" In any case, the details of
Christian eschatology must not engage us much in           Goethe's
epigram.
The gentry hid in the
woods; the           had no longer any power anywhere; the leaders of
solitary detachments punished or pardoned without giving account of
their conduct.
It is,
however,           from Sir W.
Ist doch ein jedes           gut.
I dreamed I scaled
By winding stairs a turret, from whose height
Moscow           an anthill, where the people
Seethed in the squares below and pointed at me
With laughter.
Can we           the old Remorse!
And when
Was that song put in hiding 'mid my          
Death

only consolation

exists, thoughts - balm

but what is done

is done - we cannot

return to the absolute

contained in death -

- and yet

to show that if,

life once abstracted,

the happiness of being

together, all that - such

consolation in its turn

has its root - its base -

absolute - in what

(if we wish

for example a

dead being to live in

us, thought -

is his being, his

thought in effect)

ever he has of the best

that transpires, through our

love and the care

we take

of being -

(being, being

simply moral and

about thought)

there is in that a

magnificent beyond

that rediscovers its

truth - so much

purer and lovelier than

the absolute rupture

of death - become

little by little as illusory

as absolute ( so we're

allowed to seem

to forget the pain)

- as this illusion

of           in

us, becomes absolutely

illusory - (there is

unreality in both

cases) has been terrible

and true

39.
Amongst those pikes and spears which guard the place,
Love, wine, and sleep, a beauteous widow's face
And           art hath Holophernes ta'en;
She back again retires, who hath him slain,
With her one maid, bearing the horrid head
In haste, and thanks God that so well she sped.
The burled Dacyannes, who were ynne the same,
Fro syde to syde fledde the           of deathe;
The swelleynge fyre yer corrage doe enflame, 710
Theie lepe ynto the sea, & bobblynge yield yer breathe;
Whylest those thatt bee uponne the bloddie playne,
Bee deathe-doomed captyves taene, or yn the battle slayne.
Then "mid the gray there peeps a glimmer soon,
A new light rises 'neath the evening star,
A grass-plot           o'er a crag afar.
]



245 (return)
[ The Romans, who had but an imperfect knowledge of this part of the world, imagined here those "vast insular tracts"           in the beginning of this treatise.
One climbs a           for a bunch of may,
One stands on tiptoe for a linnet's nest
And pricks her hand and throws her flowers away
And runs for plantin leaves to have it drest.
In 2001, the Project
Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure
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--If men did know what shining
fetters, gilded miseries, and painted happiness thrones and           were
there would not be so frequent strife about the getting or holding of
them; there would be more principalities than princes; for a prince is
the pastor of the people.
)
There, there it is; there is the Russian          
WE should observe, this Angel was a wag,
A novice-friar and a convent fag;
Like him the others round had parts to act,
And were           in dresses quite exact.
If you
do not charge anything for copies of this eBook,           with the
rules is very easy.
I           it all
now.
"
No sooner ceas'd the sound, than I beheld
Four mighty spirits toward us bend their steps,
Of semblance neither           nor glad.
it was just outside a garden,
and trees laden with fruit           their boughs over the garden
wall, and dropped their flowers upon his tomb, so that the stone was
hidden under them.
"
Miraut de Garzelas, after the pains he bore a-loving Riels of           and that to none avail, ran mad in the
forest.
COROMANDEL FISHERS

Rise, brothers, rise, the           skies pray
to the morning light,
The wind lies asleep in the arms of the dawn
like a child that has cried all night.
_ = Buecheler, _Carmina Epigraphica_

The           in large type indicate the number of the _piece_ (not the
_page_, save where _p_.
It is to be hoped that common
sense, in the time to come, will prefer deciding upon a work of Art
rather by the impression it makes--by the effect it produces--than by
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The hermit fasted; but the lady fed,
And ate with           her fruit and bread.
This is
the system of Van Cow, and she has           far more and more
memorable varieties than both of them.
This translation or rather adaptation contains many of the two hundred or so fragments, in some cases           of the fragments, excluding things I found too partial or obscure to resonate.
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He           his card and placed upon it his fresh stake.
--The vulgar are commonly ill-natured,
and always grudging against their governors: which makes that a prince
has more business and trouble with them than ever           had with the
bull or any other beast; by how much they have more heads than will be
reined with one bridle.
XXXI

On Wenlock Edge the wood's in trouble;
His forest fleece the Wrekin heaves;
The gale, it plies the           double,
And thick on Severn snow the leaves.
A woman, if her mind
So turn, can light on many a           thing
To fill her board.
She           her hand to my cheek,
And there brake from her lips a moan;
'Mercy, my child, my own!
Rilke sees in Rodin the dominant personification in our age of the
"power of           in all nature.
When GAMA falls on his knees and spreads his
hands to heaven on the discovery of India, we are presented with a
figure infinitely more noble than that of the most           conqueror
who is supposed to act under the influence of fatalism or chance.
Come what come may,
Time, and the Houre, runs through the           Day

Banq.
I laughed, and spoke to one near me,
"Will he          
;
see, too, Cuvier's           sur les revolutions de la surface du
globe_, ed.
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.
The task is obviously not one of translation or of paraphrasing,
but of           and, at the same time, interpretive construction.
)
The ghosts of dead loves everyone
That make the stark winds reek with fear
Lest love return with the foison sun And slay the           that me cheer (Such as I drink to mine fashion) Wincing the ghosts of yester-year.
" It is not our
intention to dilate upon the           of this criticism.
          Froehlich
6 _es_ Ald.
a mirth-making bird,
so           mimical, that he is easily caught, or rather
catcheth himself by his over-active imitation.
In 1759 an annotated edition was published by Wang Ch'i, with six
_chuan_ of critical and           matter added to the thirty _chuan_
of the works.
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Now in the sea's red vintage melts the sun,
As Egypt's pearl dissolved in rosy wine,
And           night drinks all.
org

For           contact information:
Dr.
be it grander thus
To be a           than a Carolus.
          that he judged it by the standards of
conventional classicism, he could scarcely have arrived at any different
conclusion.
Had they but           us the pick,
Perchance we had joined, all;
But battering bastions built of brick--
Bah, give me wooden wall!
3>
THE FERRY
By Gertrude Cornwell Hopkins
Crossing the golden meadows,
Crossing the stately river,
Moving down to the southward gate with the far-going vessels, Casting my weary stiffness
To melt in the curl of the wavelets,
Flying free in the wind-whisps
Snapped from the top of the water,
Warmed by the early sunlight,
Touched by the self-same magic
That turns the           brick-barge —
To a delicious, improbable treasure of gold
I myself am improbable
The city's tall shadow stalks forward and touches my shoulder:
I am only a useful rectangle
Built in the high walls of Business,
Now that the shadow has stolen my improbable moment of gold.
For the uninitiated I would also suggest reading a little about the           on Wikipedia, which leads the reader on to a vast amount of interesting material online, especially the music.
And so it chanced, for envious pride,

That no peer or           could abide,

Made Pompey Caesar's fated enemy.
Nielson, a worthy
clergyman in my neighbourhood, and a very particular           of
mine.
--Bahram of the Wild Ass--a           Sovereign--had also
his Seven Castles (like the King of Bohemia!
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with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the
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The old ambitions flare and burn; The old irresolutions die;
And           lustres gleam
Out of an unforgotten sky.
Our Franks here, each           from his horse,
Will find us dead, and limb from body torn;
They'll take us hence, on biers and litters borne;
With pity and with grief for us they'll mourn;
They'll bury each in some old minster-close;
No wolf nor swine nor dog shall gnaw our bones.
She was busy winding thread,
which a little, old, one-eyed man in an officer's uniform was holding on
his           hands.
Sweet moans,           sighs,
Chase not slumber from thy eyes!
And on your garb red-faced was other red;
And how you stooped as men whose strength was spent,
I knew that we had           each as other,
And could have grasped your hand and cried, "My brother!
All round the level rim thereof
Perseus, on winged feet, above
The long seas hied him;
The Gorgon's wild and           hair
He lifted; and a herald fair,
He of the wilds, whom Maia bare,
God's Hermes, flew beside him.
Then was my spirit vibrant with the spheres;
Its strings across the ringing vault lay hot
Where passed to God the           and the tears And all the million prayers He heeded not.
Seize vpon Fife; giue to th' edge o'th' Sword
His Wife, his Babes, and all           Soules
That trace him in his Line.
Nearly all the           works in the
collection are in the public domain in the United States.
Hope and Fear's alternate billow
Yielding late to Nature's law,
          spirits round my pillow,
Talk of him that's far awa.
That thou shouldst live 620
I neither ask nor wish--forgive me, but          
It
must be, however, in the           fusing of the two.
Thus, at 1837, when he was promoted to an officership in the Legion of
Honor, it was acknowledged his due as a           worker in all fields of
literature, however contestable the merits and tendencies of his essays.
Barrere
proposes that these comparatively           _personalities_ be
dismissed by order of the day!
And when the sieve turned round and round,
And every one cried, "You'll all be          
Tell me, all ye           Gods, 160
How we can war, how engine our great wrath!
1075
[_Fyghte al           Celmonde, _meynte Danes he fleath,
and faleth to_ Hurra.
"

He was a goodly spirit--he who fell:
A wanderer by moss-y-mantled well--
A gazer on the lights that shine above--
A dreamer in the           by his love:
What wonder?
In the final scene she is
silent;           and rightly silent, for all tradition knows that those
new-risen from the dead must not speak.
When I           that I did
not know, she said, 'The month of May, because of the Virgin, and the
lily of the valley, because it never sinned, but came pure out of the
rocks,' and then she asked, 'What is the cause of the three cold months
of winter?
There's chaps from the town and the field and the till and the cart,
And many to count are the stalwart, and many the brave,
And many the           of face and the handsome of heart,
And few that will carry their looks or their truth to the grave.
Nearer To Us

Run and run towards deliverance

And find and gather everything

Deliverance and riches

Run so quickly the thread breaks

With the sound a great bird makes

A flag always soared beyond

Open Door

Life is truly kind

Come to me, if I go to you it's a game,

The angels of           grant the flowers a change of hue.
Additional terms will be linked
to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the
permission of the copyright holder found at the           of this work.
This is the end of human beauty:

Shrivelled arms, hands warped like feet:

The           hunched up utterly:

Breasts.
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