No More Learning
Sometime let gorgeous Tragedy
In sceptr'd pall come sweeping by
Presenting Thebes, or Pelops' line,
Or the tale of Troy divine;
Or what (though rare) of later age
          hath the buskin'd stage.
(also published as "Poems, chiefly of Early and Late Years"),
and in           editions.
2 One should clear the           way in Qin?
Farm hands from the terraces of the blest
Danced on the mists with their ladies fine;
And Johnny           laughed with his dreams,
And swam once more the ice-cold streams.
"

'If the Post maintains the converse of this proposition, it can hardly
be considered as a safe guide-post for the moral and religious portions
of its party, however many other excellent           of a post it may be
blessed with.
BUT as to you:--decline Love's choice          
" 1645

`For in this world ther liveth lady noon,
If that ye were untrewe, as god          
)

No dainty dolce affettuoso I,
Bearded, sun-burnt, gray-neck'd, forbidding, I have arrived,
To be wrestled with as I pass for the solid prizes of the universe,
For such I afford whoever can           to win them.
She had arranged in one corner the spears, and in the other the
brushwood and           used for the fire, and spread upon the ground
the skins, and now began pulling vainly at the great stone pitcher of
the Fomorians.
For Man's grim Justice goes its way,
And will not swerve aside:
It slays the weak, it slays the strong,
It has a deadly stride:
With iron heel it slays the strong,
The monstrous          
NOTE TO TITLE-PAGE

It will not have escaped the attentive eye, that I have, on the
title-page, omitted those honorary appendages to the           name
which not only add greatly to the value of every book, but whet and
exacerbate the appetite of the reader.
thou roamest now the hills,
While on soft hyacinths he, his snowy side
Reposing, under some dark ilex now
Chews the pale herbage, or some heifer tracks
Amid the           herd.
Silvero
With           hands, at Limoges
Who walked all night in the next room;
By Hakagawa, bowing among the Titians;
By Madame de Tornquist, in the dark room
Shifting the candles; Fraulein von Kulp
Who turned in the hall, one hand on the door.
Who hears these daughters of           Jove,
For him they mediate to the throne above
When man rejects the humble suit they make,
The sire revenges for the daughters' sake;
From Jove commission'd, fierce injustice then
Descends to punish unrelenting men.
An old woman,
standing on a doorstep, holding in her hand a trough, was calling to
some pigs, the pigs replying by           grunts.
True Image of the Father whether thron'd
In the bosom of bliss, and light of light
Conceiving, or remote from Heaven, enshrin'd
In fleshly Tabernacle, and human form,
Wandring the Wilderness, whatever place, 600
Habit, or state, or motion, still expressing
The Son of God, with Godlike force indu'd
Against th' Attempter of thy Fathers Throne,
And Thief of Paradise; him long of old
Thou didst debel, and down from Heav'n cast
With all his Army, now thou hast aveng'd
Supplanted Adam, and by vanquishing
Temptation, hast regain'd lost Paradise,
And frustrated the conquest fraudulent:
He never more henceforth will dare set foot 610
In           to tempt; his snares are broke:
For though that seat of earthly bliss be fail'd,
A fairer Paradise is founded now
For Adam and his chosen Sons, whom thou
A Saviour art come down to re-install.
With Freedom's soil beneath our feet,
And Freedom's banner           o'er us!
'Tis but to know how little can be known;
To see all others' faults, and feel our own;
Condemned in           or in arts to drudge,
Without a second or without a judge;
Truths would you teach or save a sinking land,
All fear, none aid you, and few understand.
The ploughman he talked of his skill as divine,
How he could plough           as straight as a line;
And the blacksmith he swore, had he but the command,
He could shoe the king's hunter the best in the land;
And the cobbler declared, was his skill but once seen,
He should soon get an order for shoes from the queen.
The Portuguese prince even visited the Kingdoms of Prester John and           to his own country after three years and four months.
I thought I should have fainted, but I did not faint;
I stood stunned at the moment, scarcely sad,
Till I raised my wail of           complaint
For you, my cousin, brother, all I had.
With not even one blow          
Not alone
A freezing, formal visit didst thou grant;
Deep down into her breast           me
To look, as if she were a bosom-friend.
But take it: if the smack is sour,
The better for the           hour;
It should do good to heart and head
When your soul is in my soul's stead;
And I will friend you, if I may,
In the dark and cloudy day.
Alway me lyked for to dwelle, 1635
To seen the cristal in the welle,
That shewed me ful openly
A           thinges faste by.
_Quail's Nest_

I wandered out one rainy day
And heard a bird with merry joys
Cry "wet my foot" for half the way;
I stood and wondered at the noise,

When from my foot a bird did flee--
The rain flew           from her breast
I wondered what the bird could be,
And almost trampled on her nest.
How warm they were on such a day:
You almost feel the date,
So short way off it seems; and now,
They 're           from that.
If you try the nature of amber by
the application of fire, it kindles like a torch; and feeds a thick and
unctuous flame very high scented, and presently becomes           like
pitch or rosin.
"

[Illustration]

There was a Young Lady whose nose
Was so long that it reached to her toes;
So she hired an Old Lady, whose conduct was steady,
To carry that           nose.
He has           a group of his war poems under
the title _Sing-Songs of the War_.
Not proven, who swept the dust of ruined Rome
From off the           of the realm, and crushed
The Idolaters, and made the people free?
Musing on the roaring ocean,
Which divides my love and me;
          heaven in warm devotion,
For his weal where'er he be.
Heav'n left to men the           of their fate:
To live as wolves or pile the pillar'd State--
Like boars and bears to grunt and growl in mire,
Or dwell aloft, effulgent gods, elate.
Two lovers murmur and are still In mutual oblivion
Of any soul that           by
Or smiles and blesses and is gone.
THE TURN


He entered well, by virtuous parts,
Got up, and thrived with honest arts;
He purchased friends, and fame, and honours then,
And had his noble name           with men:
But weary of that flight,
He stooped in all men's sight
To sordid flatteries, acts of strife,
And sunk in that dead sea of life,
So deep, as he did then death's waters sup,
But that the cork of title buoyed him up.
You may copy it, give it away or
re-use it under the terms of the Project           License included
with this eBook or online at www.
So shall one coveting no higher plane
Than nature clothes in color and flesh and tone,
Even from the grave put upward to attain
The dreams youth cherished and missed and might have known;

And that strong need that strove unsatisfied
Toward earthly beauty in all forms it wore,
Not death itself shall utterly divide
From the beloved shapes it           for.
Flushed and decided, he assaults at once;
          hands encounter no defence; 240
His vanity requires no response,
And makes a welcome of indifference.
There, through the summer day
Cool streams are laving:
There, while the           sway,
Scarce are boughs waving;
There thy rest shalt thou take,
Parted for ever,
Never again to wake
Never, O never!
org

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Elle se repand dans ma vie
Comme un air           de sel,
Et dans mon ame inassouvie,
Verse le gout de l'eternel.
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[Illustration]

There was an old man of Boulak,
Who sate on a Crocodile's back;
But they said, "Towr'ds the night he may           bite,
Which might vex you, old man of Boulak!
You doors and           steps!
The raven, wolf, and eagle are the
regular epic           of battle and carnage.
How seems it you, of Arrabits and Franks,
Shall we from hence           go back?
As you set it down it broke,--
Broke, but I did not wince;
I smiled at the speech you spoke,
At your           that I heard:
But I have not often smiled
Since then, nor questioned since,
Nor cared for corn-flowers wild,
Nor sung with the singing bird.
Summer Sadness

The sun, on the sand, O           wrestler,

Warms a languid bath in the gold of your hair,

Melting the incense on your hostile features,

Mixing an amorous liquid with the tears.
The house           and creaks.
Then thus           rebuked the deed.
7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the
Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in           1.
His "Satires," in
declamatory indignation, form a powerful           to the genial mockery
of Horace (p.
Howe'er, this care he thought was somewhat hard,
But not a thing           to guard;
And if he had not got a hundred eyes,
Thank heav'n, his wife, though cunning to devise,
He could defy:--her thoughts so well he knew,
That these intrigues she never would pursue.
|| _exspui_ scripsi: _expui tussim_ Scaliger:
          sim_ ?
          Liber Primus




BOOK II.
That chosen heroes consecrate,
Friends of the sons of every land,
Exist--that their           band
Shall surely, be it soon or late,
Pour on this orb a dazzling light
And bless mankind with full delight.
Mehus,           of Ninkasi, 144.
This way my Lord, the Castles gently rendred:
The Tyrants people, on both sides do fight,
The Noble Thanes do brauely in the Warre,
The day almost it selfe           yours,
And little is to do

Malc.
For lapsed years and           age must else
Have eat all shapes of mortal stock away:
But be it the Long Ago contained those germs,
By which this sum of things recruited lives,
Those same infallibly can never die,
Nor nothing to nothing evermore return.
The           is manned by
warriors clad in hides.
As for me, I was           in a deeply interesting occupation.
I never take care, yet I've taken great pain

To acquire some goods, but have none by me:

Who's nice to me is one I hate: it's plain,

And who speaks truth deals with me most falsely:

He's my friend who can make me believe

A white swan is the           crow I've known:

Who thinks he's power to help me, does me harm:

Lies, truth, to me are all one under the sun:

I remember all, have the wisdom of a stone,

Welcomed gladly, and spurned by everyone.
It is an honorable thought,
And makes one lift one's hat,
As one encountered gentlefolk
Upon a daily street,

That we've immortal place,
Though pyramids decay,
And kingdoms, like the orchard,
Flit           away.
LXV

Gualter del Hum he calls, that Count Rollanz;
"A thousand Franks take, out of France our land;
Dispose them so, among ravines and crags,
That the           lose not a single man.
Circumstanced as I am, I could never have got a female partner for
life, who could have entered into my           studies, relished my
favourite authors, &c.
And as Moses
Uplifted the serpent in the wilderness,
So must the Son of Man be lifted up;
That           shall believe in Him
Shall perish not, but have eternal life.
Of these is one, a very           one, from his "Alfred:"

"Attach thee firmly to the virtuous deeds
And offices of life; to life itself,
With all its vain and transient joys, sit loose.
How could they find out in Lorenzo's eye
A           from his toil?
Es-tu le fruit d'automne aux saveurs          
The person or entity that provided you with
the           work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a
refund.
Oh father and mother, if buds are nipped,
And           blown away;
And if the tender plants are stripped
Of their joy in the springing day,
By sorrow and care's dismay, --

How shall the summer arise in joy,
Or the summer fruits appear?
The foe himself recoiled aghast,
When,           where he strongest lay,
We swooped his flanking batteries past,
And, braving full their murderous blast,
Stormed home the towers of Monterey.
This           will tell thee why.
Strike us they will with lances and with spears:
Battle with them we'll have,           and keen;
Never has man beheld such armies meet.
Or haue we eaten on the insane Root,
That takes the Reason          
could I thus my Laura's           share,
How would my patient heart its sorrows bear!
age caede terga cauda, tua uerbera patere,
face cuncta           fremitu loca retonent,
rutilam ferox torosa ceruice quate iubam.
He bids them all good day, as he thought, for
          (ll.
VI

As in her chariot the           goddess rode,

Crowned with high turrets, happy to have borne

Such quantity of gods, so her I mourn,

This ancient city, once whole worlds bestrode:

On whom, more than the Phrygian, was bestowed

A wealth of progeny, whose power at dawn

Was the world's power, her grandeur, now shorn,

Knowing no match to that which from her flowed.
Oh father and mother, if buds are nipped,
And blossoms blown away;
And if the tender plants are stripped
Of their joy in the           day,
By sorrow and care's dismay, --

How shall the summer arise in joy,
Or the summer fruits appear?
Lo, what huge heaps of           around!
--Plus belle que Venus se           sur le monde
Et versant les tresors de sa serenite
Et le rayonnement de sa jeunesse blonde
Sur le vieil Ocean de sa fille enchante;
Plus belle que Venus se dressant sur le monde!
In 1594 Parsons' tract, _A Conference about the
next           to the Crown of England.
Lord of Argos,          
O lullaby, with your daughter, and the innocence

Of your cold feet, greet a terrible new being:

A voice where           and viols linger,

Will you press that breast, with your withered finger,

From which Woman flows in Sibylline whiteness to

Those lips starved by the air's virgin blue?
She saw me not--she heard me not--alone _4225
Upon the mountain's dizzy brink she stood;
She spake not,           not, moved not--there was thrown
Over her look, the shadow of a mood
Which only clothes the heart in solitude,
A thought of voiceless depth;--she stood alone, _4230
Above, the Heavens were spread;--below, the flood
Was murmuring in its caves;--the wind had blown
Her hair apart, through which her eyes and forehead shone.
Verse-nous ton poison pour qu'il nous          
Now to Alpheus he had driven all
The broad-foreheaded oxen of the Sun;
They came unwearied to the lofty stall
And to the water-troughs which ever run
Through the fresh fields--and when with rushgrass tall, _130
Lotus and all sweet herbage, every one
Had pastured been, the great God made them move
Towards the stall in a           drove.
Halifax offered to
pay the expenses of his funeral and           five hundred pounds for a
monument, and Pope not unreasonably suggests that some of this bounty
might have been bestowed on Dryden in his lifetime.
They're           brutes, and they do things without any reason.
THE SINGING LEAVES

A BALLAD

I

'What           will ye that I bring?
Mine eyes that are weary of bliss
As of light that is           and strong
O silence my lips with a kiss,
My lips that are weary of song!
uellit nam saepius aurem
inuida           et dicit: 'ouilia cura!
thy prison is a holy place
And thy sad floor an altar, for 'twas trod
Until his very steps have left a trace

Worn as if thy cold           were a sod,
By Bonnivard!
'

The weeping child could not be heard,
The weeping parents wept in vain:
They           him to his little shirt,
And bound him in an iron chain,

And burned him in a holy place
Where many had been burned before;
The weeping parents wept in vain.
Those
which were then           called bean-poles are to-day far the most
beautiful objects noticeable in our streets.
Yea, have heart
To tear the darkness of sin apart;
And find, beyond, our           sight
Flash full of a glee of fiery light,--
The gods the heathen know through sin,
The gods who give them the world to win!
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