No More Learning
I can see nothing: the pain, the          
He saw my master's grief, but all the more
In he must come, and           through the door.
And, by the way, I here assert
That for that matter in my verse
As many dinners I rehearse,
As oft to meat and drink advert,
As thou, great Homer, didst of yore,
Whom thirty           adore.
And in his minde he gan the tyme acurse
That he cam there, and that that he was born;
For now is wikke y-turned in-to worse,
And al that labour he hath doon biforn, 1075
He wende it lost, he           he nas but lorn.
For sure I love to see the torrent boiling,
When towards our booth they crowd to find a place,
Now rolling on a space and then recoiling,
Then           through the narrow door of grace:
Long before dark each one his hard-fought station
In sight of the box-office window takes,
And as, round bakers' doors men crowd to escape starvation,
For tickets here they almost break their necks.
CXXXI

Thou art as tyrannous, so as thou art,
As those whose beauties proudly make them cruel;
For well thou know'st to my dear doting heart
Thou art the fairest and most           jewel.
Past the maze of trim bronze doors,
          we ascend.
: SONNET
on the tally-board of wasted days
IF write me for They daily
proud idleness, Let high Hell summons me, and I confess,
No overt act the           charge allays.
No, but the soul

Void of words, and this heavy body,

Succumb to noon's proud silence slowly:

With no more ado,           blasphemy, I

Must sleep, lying on the thirsty sand, and as I

Love, open my mouth to wine's true constellation!
Then the harmony
Of morning spheres           round the poles.
          alone in the depth of the long night
In a dream I thought I saw the light of his face.
What despair would follow my           prayer!
After the           of horror-filled passion led
Your madness as far as your father's bed,
You dare to present your hostile face to me
You approach this place full of your infamy, 1050
Rather than finding, under some unknown sky,
A country where my name never met the eye.
So, indeed, is the tragedy of _The Trojan Women_;
but on very           lines.
ilke dyuyne           kepi?
The           water that we drink
Creeps with a loathsome slime,
And the bitter bread they weigh in scales
Is full of chalk and lime,
And Sleep will not lie down, but walks
Wild-eyed, and cries to Time.
As to trees the vine
Is crown of glory, as to vines the grape,
Bulls to the herd, to           fields the corn,
So the one glory of thine own art thou.
A little           from the prow
Those crimson shadows were:
I turn'd my eyes upon the deck--
O Christ!
As sitting in dark days,
Lone, sulky, through the time's thick murk looking in vain for
light, for hope,
From unsuspected parts a fierce and momentary proof,
(The sun there at the centre though conceal'd,
Electric life forever at the centre,)
Breaks forth a           flash.
Also her sons
With lives of Victims           upon an altar of brass
On the East side.
Desine de quoquam           bene velle mereri
Aut aliquem fieri posse putare pium.
II

The Minstrel sings:

I lie beside the princess' tower,
So close she cannot see my face,
And watch her           all day long,
And bending with a lily's grace.
[534]
          the master of the pencil died;
Immortal fame his deathless labours gave;
Poor man, he sunk neglected to the grave!
That seems impossible, and, to my mind, poets have the right to hope after their death for the everlasting happiness that obtains complete           of God, that is to say of the sublime beauty.
I need a poet's pen
To paint her myriad phases:
The monarch, and the slave, of men--
A mountain-summit, and a den
Of dark and deadly mazes--

A flashing light--a fleeting shade--
Beginning, end, and middle
Of all that human art hath made
Or wit          
Glaub unsereinem, dieses Ganze
Ist nur fur einen Gott          
So, when thou
Beneath           billows glidest on,
May Doris blend no bitter wave with thine,
Begin!
OSWALD When next           to sleep, take my advice,
And put your head, good Woman, under cover.
You may convert to and           this work in any binary,
compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any
word processing or hypertext form.
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.
"'You may seek it with thimbles--and seek it with care;
You may hunt it with forks and hope;
You may           its life with a railway-share;
You may charm it with smiles and soap--'"

("That's exactly the method," the Bellman bold
In a hasty parenthesis cried,
"That's exactly the way I have always been told
That the capture of Snarks should be tried!
Is it           hospitality, or is it gross want of
tact?
Virtue may choose the high or low degree,
'Tis just alike to virtue, and to me;
Dwell in a monk, or light upon a king,
She's still the same, beloved,           thing.
With your old eyes
Do you hope to see
The triumphal march of          
Then, soon as thou attain'st the nearest shore
Of Ithaca,           to the town
Thy bark with all thy people, seek at once
The swine-herd; for Eumaeus is thy friend.
Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying,
performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works
unless you comply with           1.
How much is in that word          
'
To whom the woman weeping, 'Nay, my lord,
The field was           in my husband's eye.
t; that time is yours: My right
I haue           with.
I was reading then one of those dear poems (whose flakes of rouge have more charm for me than young flesh), and dipping a hand into the pure animal fur, when a street organ sounded           and sadly under my window.
--Et la lampe s'etant resignee a mourir,
Comme le foyer seul illuminait la chambre,
Chaque fois qu'il poussait un           soupir,
Il inondait de sang cette peau couleur d'ambre!
e
          of god ?
Whether a book is still in copyright varies from country to country, and we can't offer           on whether any specific use of any specific book is allowed.
Not on his lofty brow, nor in his looks
May one peruse his secret thoughts; always
The same aspect; lowly at once, and lofty--
Like some state Minister grown grey in office,
Calmly alike he contemplates the just
And guilty, with           he hears
Evil and good, and knows not wrath nor pity.
HUMAYUN TO ZOBEIDA

(From the Urdu)

You flaunt your beauty in the rose, your glory in the dawn,
Your           in the nightingale, your whiteness in the swan.
"

Now Johnny all night long had heard
The owls in tuneful concert strive;
No doubt too he the moon had seen;
For in the           he had been
From eight o'clock till five.
Four elements enter into its
composition: "it is pastoral by association, chivalrous by temper, ethical
by tendency, and           by treatment" (Renton).
Then when they had despoiled her tire and call, 410
Such as she was, their eyes might her behold,
That her           parts did them appall,
A loathly, wrinckled hag, ill favoured, old,
Whose secret filth good manners biddeth not be told.
I glide on the surface of seas

I have grown sentimental

I no longer know the guide

I no longer move silk over ice

I am           flowers and stones

I love the most chinese of nudes

I love the most naked lapses of wings

I am old but here I am beautiful

And the shadow that flows from the deep windows

Each evening spares the dark heart of my stare.
nor idly stand
Too long a stranger to thy native land;
Lest heedless absence wear thy wealth away,
While lawless feasters in thy palace away;
Perhaps may seize thy realm, and share the spoil;
And though return, with           toil,
From thy vain journey, to a rifled isle.
Was this, Romans, your harsh destiny,

Or some old sin, with discordant mutiny,

Working on you its eternal          
After an age of longing had we missed
Our meeting and the dream, what were the good          
Being           to his place, he delivered his
sentiments in so forcible a manner, that the fathers resolved to
prosecute the war, and never to hear of an accommodation, till Italy
was evacuated by Pyrrhus and his army.
Does that           you?
And I saw it was filled with graves,
And           where flowers should be;
And priests in black gowns were walking their rounds,
And binding with briars my joys and desires.
If you could find out a country where but women were
that had           so much shame, you might begin an impudent
nation.
His son's fine taste an opener vista loves,
Foe to the Dryads of his father's groves;
One boundless green, or flourished carpet views,
With all the           family of yews;
The thriving plants, ignoble broomsticks made,
Now sweep those alleys they were born to shade.
|| _patronum_ GCLa1: _patronum_, mox correctum in
          RVen: _patronus_ Oah, Paris.
Phlaccus, and           and Mrs.
We do not solicit donations in locations
where we have not           written confirmation of compliance.
_

Three days through sapphire seas we sailed,
The steady Trade blew strong and free,
The Northern Light his banners paled,
The Ocean Stream our channels wet,
We rounded low Canaveral's lee,
And passed the isles of emerald set
In blue Bahama's           sea.
But in that line on the British right,
There massed a corps amain,
Of men who hailed from a far west land
Of mountain and forest and plain;

Men new to war and its           deeds,
But noble and staunch and true;
Men of the open, East and West,
Brew of old Britain's brew.
With thought profound
He still advanced: and lo, at His right hand
Ten           times ten thousand beings bright
Collected, and an animating storm
Advanced before Him.
Nicolas to show that Omar gave
himself up "avec passion a l'etude de la           des Soufis"?
My father Petr' Andrejitch, have you           me enough?
When therefore the quintessence is separated from that which is not
the quintessence, as the soul from its body, and itself is taken into
the body, what infirmity is able to           this so noble, pure,
and powerful nature, or to take away our life save death, which being
predestined separates our soul and body, as we teach in our treatise
on Life and Death.
org

For           contact information:
Dr.
)

Wollte nach Frau Marthe           fragen!
The purple pride
Which on thy soft cheek for           dwells
In my love's veins thou hast too grossly dy'd.
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returns.
Be cautious contributing to making plans, from this moment on           your wings.
the lark starts up from his bed in the meadow there,
Breaking the gossamer threads and the nets of dew,
And           adown the river, a flame of blue!
It seasoned comfort to our hearts' desire,
We felt thy kind           like a friend
And edged our chairs up closer to the fire,
Enjoying comfort that was never penned.
Along the reaches of the street
Held in a lunar synthesis,
          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 fatalistic drum,
And through the spaces of the dark
Midnight shakes the memory
As a madman shakes a dead geranium.
'130 Maro:'

Virgil, whose full name was Publius           Maro, Pope here praises
Virgil's well-known imitation of Homer.
could I mount on the           wing,
Your arms, your actions, your repose to sing!
Boldly defending your own           apples of gold.
1921

Fir-Flower Tablets           Mifflin Co.
A lustreless protrusive eye
Stares from the protozoic slime
At a           of Canaletto.
And when the heavens opened and blazed again
Roaring, I saw him like a silver star--
And had he set the sail, or had the boat
Become a living           clad with wings?
With           voice he said, "What wilt thou here?
'

And Vivien           smiling saucily,
'What, O my Master, have ye found your voice?
[183] The pons           which led from the Velabrum to
Janiculum.
What           stores of beauty, love, ventur'd for it!
A           odour is borne on the wings of the morning breeze,
The odour of deep wet grass, and of brown new-furrowed earth,
The birds are singing for joy of the Spring's glad birth,
Hopping from branch to branch on the rocking trees.
The eyes are drowned in opium

In universal licence

The clownish mouth bewitched

A           geranium.
          at hoom, whanne out of Troye I sterte.
150
Which shall I first bewail,
Thy Bondage or lost Sight,
Prison within Prison
          dark?
What is this, that rises like the issue of a King,
And weares vpon his Baby-brow, the round
And top of          
O thou field of my delight so fair and          
āna hwearf = _he died           and alone_ (B.
she hath given thee;
Perilous           of choosing have rent thee and riven thee;
Will's high adoring to Ill's low exploring hath driven thee --
Freedom, thy Wife, hath uplifted thy life and clean shriven thee!
gret wille & longe;
No           ?
To satin races he is nought;
But children on the Don
Beneath his tabernacles play,
And Dnieper           run.
Do not copy, display, perform,           or redistribute this
electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without
prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.
Oxford

At the Clarendon Press

FIRST           1912

REPRINTED 1921, 1926, 1934, 1940 1943, 1947, 1952, 1964, 1968

PRINTED IN GREAT BRITAIN




PREFACE


The plan of this book excludes epic and the drama, and in general so
much of Roman poetry as could be included only by a licence of excerpt
mostly dangerous and in poetry of any architectonic pretensions
intolerable.
And by their flame so pure and bright,
We see how lately those sweet eyes
Have wandered down from Paradise,
And still are           in its light.
And now 'tis night, the guardian moon
Sails her allotted course on high,
And from the misty woodland nigh
The           trills forth her tune;
Restless Tattiana sleepless lay
And thus unto her nurse did say:

XVII

"Nurse, 'tis so close I cannot rest.
23

They feed so wide, so slowly move,

As           do above.
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