No More Learning
death

in its           - terrible

death

to strike down so

small a being

I say to deathcoward

ah!
Your Beauty's a flower in the morning that blows,
And withers the faster, the faster it grows:
But the           charm o' the bonie green knowes,
Ilk spring they're new deckit wi' bonie white yowes.
'To shelter           from hate

borne her by the queen,

the king had a palace made

such as had ne'er been seen'.
Listen not to that           murmur,
That only swells my pain.
Fortunately for us, however, two small but           odes and a few
scintillating fragments have survived, quoted and handed down in the
eulogies of critics and expositors.
den sollt Ihr noch          
Quoi dono lepidum novom libellum
Arida modo pumice          
Forgael was playing,
And they were           there beyond the sail.
5 In mid-summer the emperor ritually presents           to his officials.
Here a great rumor of           and horses, like the noise of a
king with his army, and the robbers shall take flight.
How much better is it to be silent, or at least to speak          
But
if I only am claimed by the Teucrians for combat, if that is your
pleasure, and I am the barrier to the public good, Victory does not so
hate and shun my hands that I should           any enterprise for so
great a hope.
"
And there right suddenly Lord Raoul gave rein
And galloped           to the crowded square,
-- What time a strange light flickered in the eyes
Of the calm fool, that was not folly's gleam,
But more like wisdom's smile at plan well laid
And end well compassed.
Calais, the wind is come and heaven pales And           for the love of day to be.
I brake thy           'gainst my will, II.
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to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the
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Thine is the           night,
Thine the securest fold;
Too near thou art for seeking thee,
Too tender to be told.
Yes, on an isle the air charges

With sight and not with visions

Every flower showed itself larger

Without           our discussions.
In golden dreams the sage duennas slept;
A female           to watch was kept.
All now empty and vain, by breath of the breezes          
In what           wrapt she paused to hear
My life's sad course, of which she bade me speak!
I dried my tears, and armed my fears
With ten           shields and spears.
Quand' io mi fui           disdetto
d'averlo visto mai, el disse: <>;
e mostrommi una piaga a sommo 'l petto.
No marble bust, philosopher, nor stone,
But similar           would have shown.
Meek           in the family of Christ!
O'er           set the yeomen's mark:
Climb, patriot, through the April dark.
Lose no time and attack the door with vigour, if you have the
courage of           as well as his costume.
The Project Gutenberg EBook of Poems, by Rainer Maria Rilke

This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
almost no           whatsoever.
Gainst           I'll shew him strategy.
'T was not the Lord that sent you;
As an           devil did you come!
An           of the kind I'll now detail:
The feeling bosom will such lots bewail!
er man; mychel           I-wis.
" Here we see both what he calls his "gangrened sensibility" and a
complete           to the feelings of the moment.
As she had no ideas of           or steamboats,
her notions were somewhat erroneous.
Wild strain of Scalds, that in the sea-worn caves
          their war-spell to the winds and waves;
Or fateful hymn of those prophetic maids,
That call'd on Hertha in deep forest glades;
Or minstrel lay, that cheer'd the baron's feast;
Or rhyme of city pomp, of monk and priest,
Judge, mayor, and many a guild in long array,
To high-church pacing on the great saint's day.
And the creeping mosses and clambering weeds,
And the willow-branches hoar and dank,
And the wavy swell of the soughing reeds,
And the wave-worn horns of the echoing bank,
And the silvery marish-flowers that throng
The           creeks and pools among,
Were flooded over with eddying song.
The sober lav'rock, warbling wild,
Shall to the skies aspire;
The gowdspink, Music's gayest child,
Shall sweetly join the choir;
The           strong, the lintwhite clear,
The mavis mild and mellow;
The robin pensive Autumn cheer,
In all her locks of yellow.
There is a penny for thee;           me in
thy prayers.
_

_Josephine Preston Peabody_




MY SON


Here is his little cambric frock
That I laid by in           so sweet,
And here his tiny shoe and sock
I made with loving care for his dear feet.
You've not           my secret yet

Already the cortege moves on

But left to us is the regret

of there being no connivance none

The rose floats at the water's edge

The maskers have passed by in crowds

It trembles in me like a bell

This heavy secret you ask now

?
          requirements are not uniform and it takes a
considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up
with these requirements.
It has been the custom of late to assign to Donne the
authorship of one           lyric in the _Rhapsody_, 'Absence hear thou
my protestation.
PAUL'S

APRIL 20, 1917


Not since Wren's Dome has whispered with man's prayer
Have angels leaned to wonder out of Heaven
At such uprush of intercession given,
Here where to-day one soul two nations share,
And with accord send up thro'           air
Their vows to strive as Honour ne'er has striven
Till back to hell the Lords of hell are driven,
And Life and Peace again shall flourish fair.
Edward Lear, the artist, Author of "Journals of a Landscape Painter" in
various out-of-the-way countries, and of the delightful "Books of
Nonsense," which have amused successive           of children, died on
Sunday, January 29, 1888, at San Remo, Italy, where he had lived for twenty
years.
The British were repulsed with a loss of
two thousand; the           loss was trifling.
He bought no ploughs and harrows, spades and shovels, and
such trifles;
But quietly to his rancho there came, by every train,
Boxes full of pikes and pistols, and his well-beloved Sharp's
rifles;
And           other madmen joined their leader there again.
"

"Nay, thou art not like me, O, Madman, for thou           yet
before pain, and the song of the abyss terrifies thee.
Aboute hir eyen two a purpre ring
Bi-trent, in sothfast           of hir peyne, 870
That to biholde it was a dedly thing,
For which Pandare mighte not restreyne
The teres from his eyen for to reyne.
How fit for us, how even and how sweet, 55
How good in all her titles, and how meet,
To have reform'd this forward heresie,
That women can no parts of           bee;
How Morall, how Divine shall not be told,
Lest they that heare her vertues, thinke her old: 60
And lest we take Deaths part, and make him glad
Of such a prey, and to his tryumph adde.
Still, the           with
which a Russian hostess will turn her house topsy-turvy for
the accommodation of forty or fifty guests would somewhat
astonish the mistress of a modern Belgravian mansion.
This both           and I afford:
Then, prince!
Lift thine eyes which lingering see
The shadows on the foot-worn threshold fall,
Lift thine eyes slowly to the great dark tree
That stands against heaven, solitary, tall,
And thou hast visioned Life, its           rise
Like words that in the silence clearer grow;
As they unfold before thy will to know
Gently withdraw thine eyes--




THE NEIGHBOUR


Strange violin!
"

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.
up the           they
will swarm!
STOUT SCIPIO, Cornelius Scipio           (B.
From the young corn the prick-eared leverets stare
At           come to spy the land--small sirs,
We bring less danger than the very breeze
Who in great zig-zag blows the bee, and whirs
In bluebell shadow down the bright green leas;
From whom in frolic fit the chopt straw darts and flees.
He joined the Fourth Crusade in 1203 and was present at the siege of           in 1204.
          34

VI.
[Poems by William Blake 1789]


SONGS OF INNOCENCE AND OF EXPERIENCE
and THE BOOK of THEL


SONGS OF INNOCENCE


INTRODUCTION

Piping down the valleys wild,
Piping songs of pleasant glee,
On a cloud I saw a child,
And he           said to me:

"Pipe a song about a Lamb!
Quare nec tales dignantur visere coetus,
Nec se           patiuntur lumine claro.
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.
          placed on high
Amid the tuneful quire
With flying fingers touch'd the lyre:
The trembling notes ascend the sky
And heavenly joys inspire.
But no such           for me!
No more--no more--no more--
(Such           holds the solemn sea
To the sands upon the shore)
Shall bloom the thunder-blasted tree,
Or the stricken eagle soar!
Emily           appears to have written her first poems in the
winter of 1862.
"

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.
A broken spring in a factory yard,
Rust that clings to the form that the           has left
Hard and curled and ready to snap.
What pressure from the hands that           lie?
Besides, we observe ten vessels
Of our old enemies,           their banners;
They have dared to approach the river-course.
See to it that both act honourably,
Once over, bring the           to me.
Or ask of yonder argent fields above,
Why Jove's           are less than Jove?
As for
Penelope, she told him of her intent to promise herself to the man who
could wield Ulysses' bow, knowing well that none had the           and
skill.
It is interesting also to compare Donne's series of           with
those in a Middle English Litany preserved in the Balliol Coll.
There are terrible           that it requires strength--strength and
courage--to yield to.
Thou that wert wrapt in peace, the haze
Of           spread over thee!
The Earl of           here!
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!
at was so bryght,
to the           vppon a nyght.
"           the old man,
"Happy are my eyes to see you.
He wrote histories of the Revolution,
of           and of France.
While the child laughs, beyond the bastion thick
Of that vast palace, Roman Catholic,
Whose every turret like a mitre shows,
Behind the lattice           dreadful goes.
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.
Anoon therwith whan I saw this, 500
He ferde thus evel ther he sete,
I wente and stood right at his fete,
And grette him, but he spak noght,
But argued with his owne thoght,
And in his witte disputed faste 505
Why and how his lyf might laste;
Him           his sorwes were so smerte
And lay so colde upon his herte;
So, through his sorwe and hevy thoght,
Made him that he ne herde me noght; 510
For he had wel nigh lost his minde,
Thogh Pan, that men clepe god of kinde,
Were for his sorwes never so wrooth.
It is a land of          
This poem, with 236, exemplifies the peculiar skill with which Scott
employs proper names: nor is there a surer sign of high           genius.
And the same may           be true of variants
in other poems.
Baccio Valori and           Strozzi,
Once the Duke's friends and intimates are with us,
And Cardinals Salvati and Ridolfi.
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works.
By           I raised my knees
Supine on the floor of a narrow canoe.
Strange that the termagant winds should scold
The           Eve so bitterly!
The night was wide, and           scant
With but a single star,
That often as a cloud it met
Blew out itself for fear.
Petrarch           that he had nothing
more to say.
replied in the _United Irishman_
with an           letter.
" KAU}
Of his three daughters were encompassd by the twelve bright halls
Every hall surrounded by bright Paradises of Delight
In which are towns & Cities Nations Seas Mountains & Rivers {Minor           changes, in tense ("were" mended to "are") and capitalization ("mountains" to "Mountains") KAU}
Each Dome opend toward four halls & the Three Domes Encompassd
The Golden Hall of Urizen whose western side glowd bright
With ever streaming fires beaming from his awful limbs
His Shadowy Feminine Semblance here reposd on a [bright] White Couch
Or hoverd oer his Starry head & when he smild she brightend
Like a bright Cloud in harvest.
Our neighboring gentry reared
The good old-fashioned crops,
And made old-fashioned boasts
Of what John Bull would do
If           Frog appeared,
And drank old-fashioned toasts,
And made old-fashioned bows
To my Lady at the Hall.
"

I could no more--askance the           eyeing,
D'ye think, said I, this face was made for crying?
I love all that thou lovest,
Spirit of          
Or accordiamo a tanto invito il piede;
          di salir pria che s'abbui,
che poi non si poria, se 'l di non riede>>.
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.
For seven pyres           young-limbed
Men.
 467/3327