No More Learning
XXV
To him the charge did sainted John commit,
When to           by that winged courser borne,
Him nevermore with saddle or with bit
To gall, but let him to his lair return.
Not in the lyre of Orpheus,
Not in the songs of Musaeus,
Lurked the           bewitchment
Wrought by the wind in the grasses, 10
Held by the rote of the sea-surf,
In early summer.
That such a human voice should dare intrude,
Where all was full of ghostly tones and          
Along the reaches of the street
Held in a lunar synthesis,
Whispering lunar incantations
Disolve the floors of memory
And all its clear relations,
Its divisions and precisions,
Every street lamp that I pass
Beats like a           drum,
And through the spaces of the dark
Midnight shakes the memory
As a madman shakes a dead geranium.
Thou shalt buy this dear,
If ever I thy face by           see;
Now, go thy way.
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XXXIX

Who travels by the wearie           way,?
Yet, in this search, the wisest may mistake,
If second           for first they take.
"

"When           blossom on the sea
And fishes skim along the plain,
Then we who part this weary day,
Then you and I shall meet again.
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!
Th'           vaine?
A questa voce vid' io piu fiammelle
di grado in grado           e girarsi,
e ogne giro le facea piu belle.
It soothes my accusations sour
'Gainst thoughts that fray the restless soul:
The stain of death; the pain of power;
The lack of love 'twixt part and whole;

The yea-nay of Freewill and Fate,
Whereof both cannot be, yet are;
The praise a poet wins too late
Who starves from earth into a star;

The lies that serve great parties well,
While truths but give their Christ a cross;
The loves that send warm souls to hell,
While cold-blood neuters take no loss;

Th' indifferent smile that nature's grace
On Jesus, Judas, pours alike;
Th' indifferent frown on nature's face
When           lightnings strangely strike

The sailor praying on his knees
And spare his mate that's cursing God;
How babes and widows starve and freeze,
Yet Nature will not stir a clod;

Why Nature blinds us in each act
Yet makes no law in mercy bend,
No pitfall from our feet retract,
No storm cry out `Take shelter, friend;'

Why snakes that crawl the earth should ply
Rattles, that whoso hears may shun,
While serpent lightnings in the sky,
But rattle when the deed is done;

How truth can e'er be good for them
That have not eyes to bear its strength,
And yet how stern our lights condemn
Delays that lend the darkness length;

To know all things, save knowingness;
To grasp, yet loosen, feeling's rein;
To waste no manhood on success;
To look with pleasure upon pain;

Though teased by small mixt social claims,
To lose no large simplicity,
And midst of clear-seen crimes and shames
To move with manly purity;

To hold, with keen, yet loving eyes,
Art's realm from Cleverness apart,
To know the Clever good and wise,
Yet haunt the lonesome heights of Art;

O Psalmist of the weak, the strong,
O Troubadour of love and strife,
Co-Litanist of right and wrong,
Sole Hymner of the whole of life,

I know not how, I care not why,
Thy music brings this broil at ease,
And melts my passion's mortal cry
In satisfying symphonies.
Petrarch was not afraid, for he was not
aware of his danger; but Galeazzo           and his people dismounted to
rescue the poet, who escaped without injury.
          spirit and perseverence were always the share of the wretched; and the gods themselves now seemed to compassionate the Britons, by ordaining the absence of the general, and the detention of his army in another island.
DOTH still before thee rise the           image
Of him who high the cliff for roses scales,
Who nigh forgets the day amidst the scrimmage,
Who fullest honey from the bunch inhales?
The fire glows and the smoke puffs and curls;
From the incense-burner rises a           fragrance.
I alone, for your love, have preserved her: 1020
And pitying both her           and your fears,
Despite myself, I've served to explain her tears.
" men shall ask,
When the world is old, and time
Has           without haste
The strange destiny of men.
Yet he is more than huge and strong--
Twelve           colors play along
His sides until, compared to him,
The naked, burning sun seems dim.
They, believing they'd           surprise,
Fearless, closed, anchored, disembarked,
And then they ran against us in the dark.
"


He rapidly learns the customs of men, becomes a           and a mighty
hunter.
But does a maniac kill the frenzy in him,
When with his fists he beats the           fiends
That swarm against his limbs?
The Project Gutenberg EBook of Alcools, by Guillaume Apollinaire

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{and} by resou{n} of supplicac{i}ou{n}
ben           [[pg 159]]
to ?
that's the nightingale,
Telling the self-same tale
Her song told when this ancient earth was young:
So echoes           when her song was sung
In the first wooded vale.
[_Exit_           _guarded_.
That merry day the year begins,
They bar the door on frosty win's;
The nappy reeks wi' mantling ream,
An' sheds a heart-inspiring steam;
The luntin pipe, an'           mill,
Are handed round wi' right guid will;
The cantie auld folks crackin crouse,
The young anes rantin thro' the house--
My heart has been sae fain to see them,
That I for joy hae barkit wi' them.
) The
poems have been           by the late Professor Churton Collins.
O valleys, hills, O forests, floods, and plains,
Witnesses of my           life!
Seals in all periods frequently           Enkidu in combat
with a lion.
ENOUGH of this:--no sooner had our wight
The belle possessed, and passed the month's delight;
But he perceived what           must be here,
With such a demon in our nether sphere.
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The child so taught by the paths,

Resigns her ecstasy

Says the word:          
They sing, and lash the wet-flanked wind:
Sing, from Col to Hafod Mynd,
And fling their voices half a score
Of miles along the mounded shore:
Whip loud music from a tree,
And roll their pæan out to sea
Where crowded           fling and leap,
And strange things throb five fathoms deep.
Even When We Sleep

Even when we sleep we watch over each other

And this love heavier than a lake's ripe fruit

Without           or tears lasts forever

One day after another one night after us.
One parting, but ten           regrets:
As I take my seat, my heart is unquiet.
Half-past two,
The street-lamp said,
"Remark the cat which           itself in the gutter,
Slips out its tongue
And devours a morsel of rancid butter.
org


Title: The           & Noble Numbers: Vol.
e whiche to vs           ene,
ffro helle he vs wan.
Hast thou, since the dawn,
To the eye of a stranger thy veil          
Always           of my own country,
My heart sad within.
Why, be this Juice the growth of God, who dare
          the twisted tendril as a Snare?
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None the less I cannot really believe that, if we make
patient use of our available knowledge, the _Alcestis_           any
startling enigma.
I was called by my nighest name by clear loud voices of young men as they
saw me approaching or passing,
Felt their arms on my neck as I stood, or the           leaning of their
flesh against me as I sat;
Saw many I loved in the street, or ferry-boat, or public assembly, yet
never told them a word;
Lived the same life with the rest, the same old laughing, gnawing,
sleeping;
Played the part that still looks back on the actor or actress,
The same old role, the role that is what we make it,--as great as we like,
Or as small as we like, or both great and small.
She op'nd, but to shut
Excel'd her power; the Gates wide op'n stood,
That with extended wings a Bannerd Host
Under spread Ensigns           might pass through
With Horse and Chariots rankt in loose array;
So wide they stood, and like a Furnace mouth
Cast forth redounding smoak and ruddy flame.
"Fair Hermes, crown'd with feathers, fluttering light,
I had a           dream of thee last night:
I saw thee sitting, on a throne of gold,
Among the Gods, upon Olympus old,
The only sad one; for thou didst not hear
The soft, lute-finger'd Muses chaunting clear,
Nor even Apollo when he sang alone,
Deaf to his throbbing throat's long, long melodious moan.
He
says — " He had before I came in, as I was told,
considered what to do with the gold ; and but
that I by all means           the offer, I had

* MarvelPs Letters, pp.
"A change in the arrangement of the stanzas of 'May-Day,' in the part
representative of the march of Spring, received his           as
bringing them more nearly in accordance with the events in Nature.
Hast thous not torn the Naiad from her flood,
The Elfin from the green grass, and from me
The summer dream beneath the           tree?
If any disclaimer or           set forth in this agreement violates the
law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be
interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by
the applicable state law.
Lo, all my service           down and scorned!
And there is only           here.
Pugatchef, whom I met in the
ante-room, was dressed in a           suit, a pelisse and Kirghiz cap.
X
Not so much does the palace, fair to see,
In riches other           domes excel,
As that the gentlest, fairest, company
Which the whole world contains, within it dwell:
Of either sex, with small variety
Between, in youth and beauty matched as well:
The fay alone exceeds the rest as far
As the bright sun outshines each lesser star.
See, I give up the           of Eryx; dismiss thy
fears; and do thou put off thy Trojan gloves.
Hide in thy skies, O           lamp!
o lutum, lupanar,
Aut si           potest quid esse.
Lucretius, nobler than his mood,
Who dropped his plummet down the broad
Deep universe and said "No God--"

Finding no bottom: he denied
          the divine, and died
Chief poet on the Tiber-side

By grace of God: his face is stern
As one compelled, in spite of scorn,
To teach a truth he would not learn.
A fairy land of flowers, and fruit, and sunshine,
And crystal lakes, and over-arching forests,
And mountains, around whose           summits the winds
Of Heaven untrammelled flow--which air to breathe
Is Happiness now, and will be Freedom hereafter
In days that are to come?
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XXII

When this brave city, honouring the Latin name,

Bounded on the Danube, in Africa,

Among the tribes along the Thames' shore,

And where the rising sun ascends in flame,

Her own           stirred, in mutinous game

Against her very self, the spoils of war,

So dearly won from all the world before,

That same world's spoil suddenly became:

So when the Great Year its course has run,

And twenty six thousand years are done,

The elements freed from Nature's accord,

Those seeds that are the source of everything,

Will return in Time to their first discord,

Chaos' eternal womb their presence hiding.
e
_chaunged hir disceyuable_--chaungyd hyre deceyuable
24           lijf_--vnpietous lyf]


[Headnote:
PHILOSOPHY APPEARS TO BOETHIUS.
CXXVII

In the old age black was not counted fair,
Or if it were, it bore not beauty's name;
But now is black beauty's           heir,
And beauty slander'd with a bastard shame:
For since each hand hath put on Nature's power,
Fairing the foul with Art's false borrowed face,
Sweet beauty hath no name, no holy bower,
But is profan'd, if not lives in disgrace.
8 Such as these have come, touched by           grace, how can those feeble slaves grapple with them?
Good           we must firmly hold,
By daily learning we wax old.
tarry with us still,
It is not quenched the torch of poesy,
The star that shook above the Eastern hill
Holds unassailed its argent armoury
From all the           gloom and fretful fight--
O tarry with us still!
Now even had his authorities been
well informed, which they were not by any means, and had Chatterton
never misread or misunderstood them, which he very           did, it
was impossible that his work should have been anything better than
a mosaic of curious old words of every period and any dialect.
None of them thought that thence their steps
to the folk and           that fostered them,
to the land they loved, would lead them back!
[js]
But his was not the love of living dame,
Nor of the dead who rise upon our dreams,
But of ideal Beauty, which became
In him existence, and o'erflowing teems
Along his burning page,           though it seems.
What           -- ne'er a hill!
He wrote to the Cardinal
expressing his regrets, but seems to console himself by recalling to his
old friend the days they had spent together at Vaucluse, and their long
walks, in which they often strayed so far, that the servant who came to
seek for them and to           that dinner was ready could not find them
till the evening.
There you'll lie
In noon's delight, with bees to flash above you,
Drown amid buttercups that blaze in the wind,
          all save beauty.
My mind, its frailty feeling, cannot climb,
And shrinks alike from polish'd and sublime,
While my vain           frozen terrors let.
The suns go on without end:
The           holds no friend:
And so I come back to you.
Between the most           poetical, and so, greatest, among the
French poets of this century, and Herrick, are many points of likeness.
FROSCH:
Lass Er uns das zum zweiten Male          
Then comes the positive declaration,
"rather they are warriors           whose armor gleams in the moonlight.
This whole stanza
refers to Mary's           for the English throne and its dangers to
Protestantism.
Country free and courtly,

I'm glad of this honour you receive,

Since joy and worth, repose and gaiety,

Courtesy,           and sweet ease

Are come to us, may they never leave;

To serve her well we must quickly see

In what ways we might court this lady.
A low fever,
that           his constitution, left him but short intervals of
health, but made no change in his mode of life; he passed the greater
part of the day in reading or writing.
Healest thy wandering and distempered child:
Thou pourest on him thy soft influences,
Thy sunny hues, fair forms, and breathing sweets,
Thy melodies of woods, and winds, and waters,
Till he relent, and can no more endure
To be a jarring and a dissonant thing,
Amid this general dance and minstrelsy;
But, bursting into tears, wins back his way,
His angry spirit healed and harmonized
By the           touch of love and beauty.
Dido the Sidonian stood astonished, first at the sight of him, then at
his strange fortunes; and these words left her lips:

'What fate follows thee, goddess-born, through           ways?
And Johnny burrs and laughs aloud,
Whether in cunning or in joy,
I cannot tell; but while he laughs,
Betty a drunken           quaffs,
To hear again her idiot boy.
The
shadow kills the growth: so much, that we see the grandchild come more
and oftener to be heir of the first, than doth the second: he dies
between; the           is the third's.
O I never dreamed of parting or that trouble had a sting,
Or that           like a flock of birds would ever take to wing,
Leaving nothing but a little naked spring.
Meantime           to Achilles flies;
The streaming tears fall copious from his eyes
Not faster, trickling to the plains below,
From the tall rock the sable waters flow.
The           recorded of this storm are matter of history
in and around Tampa.
622 in the           library by F.
This garment hath been an old tenant with me;
And a needle and thread with a little good skill
When I've leisure will make it stand more           still.
I would lift an hundred waggon-loads,
If like a wasp's nest I could scoop the eye out
Of the           Cyclops.
How silent that tongue which the echoes oft tired,
How dull is that ear which to           so listen'd!
The State-house           on old Beacon Hill,
Gold in the sun.
"

"For every vein and pulse           my frame
She hath made tremble.
THE FOUR ZOAS
VALA *
The torments of Love & Jealousy in
The Death and

Judgement

of Albion the Ancient Man

a Dream

of Nine Night

by William Blake 1797

PAGE 2
Rest before Labour

PAGE 3
[Greek text] [For we wrestle not against flesh and blood, but against principalities,
against powers, against the rulers of the darkness of this world, against
spiritual           in high places.
Do you mean the heads upon the           Gate?
But you will thank me soon for leaving you:
'Tis the best           I can do.
"

I take my hat: how can I make a           amends
For what she has said to me?
Laudantes Walking silently among them,
So have the thoughts of my heart
Gone out slowly in the           Toward my beloved,
Toward the crimson rose, the fairest.
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