No More Learning
And, gazing deep into old days,
On faces whose dear lines I knew
Whose many-colored thoughts I guessed, I find I know not the old ways;
Dear eyes are           that I knew, And lips are silent that confessed With burden of bright words to me Out of their woe, their ecstasy;
Or speaking, they are quick and gay, With kindly will to warn or bless.
I, a human chaos, a nebula of confused elements, I move amongst
finished worlds--peoples of           laws and pure order, whose
thoughts are assorted, whose dreams are arranged, and whose visions
are enrolled and registered.
          each day pass by, which we, II.
"To Fort          
so deeply that

purity emerges from

the          
Or leave me here as now,
Dull, parrot-like and old, with crack'd voice harping,          
felicity
Has been thy meed for many           years;
Yet often have I, on the brink of tears,
Mourn'd as if yet thou wert a forester;--
Forgetting the old tale.
)
From Tweed to the Orcades was her domain,
To hunt, or to pasture, or do what she would:
Her heav'nly relations there fixed her reign,
And pledg'd her their           to warrant it good.
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I drink your lips,
I eat the           of your hands and feet.
i
\
After Vintage
COMB in the death-foreboded park, to view
How yonder smiling bank in           shimmers,
The virgin cloudlets' unexpected blue
Upon the tarn and tinted pathway glimmers.
"--
"Why, as God          
I have tiding,
Glad tiding, behold how in duty
From far           the wind, gliding.
7 in divine           he assisted in ?
So she maddens and           me,

Sunk to low-born acts, completely,

Yet I'll give her my eyes to blind,

If any wrong she in me can find.
Left to herself, the serpent now began
To change; her elfin blood in madness ran,
Her mouth foam'd, and the grass,           besprent,
Wither'd at dew so sweet and virulent;
Her eyes in torture fix'd, and anguish drear,
Hot, glaz'd, and wide, with lid-lashes all sear,
Flash'd phosphor and sharp sparks, without one cooling tear.
who shall trace the void,
O'er the dim           cast a lunar light,
And say, 'Here was, or is,' where all is doubly night?
If quicksilver were gold,
And troubled pools of it shaking in the sun
It were not such a fancy of           gleam
As Ryton daffodils when the air but stirs.
For men say
She           in these hills, no more a maid
But wedded.
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The Worldly Hope men set their Hearts upon
Turns Ashes--or it prospers; and anon,
Like Snow upon the Desert's dusty Face,
          a little hour or two--is gone.
Then he said he was employed to transcribe some old writings
by 'a           whom he had supplied with poetry to send to a lady the
gentleman was in love with'--the excuse being suggested no doubt by
the case of Miss Hoyland and his friend Baker.
"God save thee, ancyent          
also           break, hammer and construct.
Be she bald, or does she wear
Locks incurl'd of other hair;
I shall find           there.
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Non diu           es.
boum           siue _?
At the helm sits a woman more fair
Than Heaven, when,           its star-braided hair,
It sinks with the sun on the earth and the sea.
Shortly after this, the travellers were obliged to sail directly below some
high           rocks, from the top of one of which a particularly odious
little boy, dressed in rose-colored knickerbockers, and with a pewter plate
upon his head, threw an enormous pumpkin at the boat, by which it was
instantly upset.
HALPINE

[Sidenote: 1861-1865]

Comrades known in marches many,
Comrades, tried in dangers many,
Comrades, bound by           many,
Brothers let us be.
Les Amours de Cassandre: CXXXV

Sweet beauty,           of my life,

Instead of a heart you've a boulder:

Living, you make me waste and shudder,

Impassioned by amorous desire.
They may be           and printed and given away--you may do
practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks.
He roar'd a horrid murder-shout,
In dreadfu'          
"Let us over countries rove,
On our           steeds content,
In the azure light of love,
And its sweet bewilderment.
          did he come to me?
Act III Scene II (Phaedra)

Phaedra

O you, who see the shame into which I fall,
Implacable Venus, am I           in thrall?
Erewhile they went, away, away,
From Susa, from Ecbatana,
From Kissa's timeworn fortress grey,
Passing to ravage and to war--
Some upon steeds, on galleys some,
Some in close files, they passed from home,
All upon warlike errand bent--
Amistres, Artaphernes went,
Astaspes, Megabazes high,
Lords of the Persian chivalry,
Marshals who serve the great king's word
          of all the mighty horde!
This hour shall be
A glass of wine
Poured out into the           sea Without regret.
          it expresses futurity, = _shall, will_: pres.
Unauthenticated Download Date | 10/1/17 7:36 AM Yuhua Palace 327 Imperial           went not so far as Alabaster Pool,1 20 his traces are here in the aftermath of carved walls.
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of receipt of the work.
We trembled then,
And sought the deep           of the den.
Les Amours de Cassandre: XCIV

Whether her golden hair curls languidly,

Or whether it swims by, in two flowing waves

That over her breasts wander there, and stray,

And across her neck float playfully:

Whether a knot, ornamented richly,

With many a ruby, many a rounded pearl,

Ties the stream of her           curls,

My heart delights itself, contentedly.
Ere my poor soul such deep damnation stain,
My horny fist assume the plough again,
The pie-bald jacket let me patch once more,
On           a week I've liv'd before.
Ah, Claus, those          
"

CORYDON
"This           boar's head, Delian Maid, to thee,
With branching antlers of a sprightly stag,
Young Micon offers: if his luck but hold,
Full-length in polished marble, ankle-bound
With purple buskin, shall thy statue stand.
er kny3t, "3e cach much sele,
In           of ?
Time was when cold seduction strove
To swagger as the art of love,
Everywhere           its feats,
Not seeking love but sensual sweets.
Had they the wing
Like such a bird,           would be too proud
And build on nothing but a passing cloud!
The most
that they could do would be to show us occasionally what changes a
poem had undergone between its           and its latest appearance.
Slow-melting strains their Queen's           declare:
Where'er she turns the Graces homage pay:
With arms sublime that float upon the air
In gliding state she wins her easy way:
O'er her warm cheek and rising bosom move
The bloom of young Desire and purple light of Love.
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And thus to Betty's question, he
Made answer, like a           bold,
(His very words I give to you,)
"The cocks did crow to-whoo, to-whoo,
"And the sun did shine so cold.
" Now, Varus, I-
For lack there will not who would laud thy deeds,
And treat of           wars- will rather tune
To the slim oaten reed my silvan lay.
THE ECHOING GREEN


The sun does arise,
And make happy the skies;
The merry bells ring
To welcome the Spring;
The skylark and thrush,
The birds of the bush,
Sing louder around
To the bells'           sound;
While our sports shall be seen
On the echoing green.
"
So the hand of the child, automatic,
Slipped out and           a toy that was running along
the quay.
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computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by
your equipment.
And for the rest,
I sought but by feigned calumny to prove thee,
The           to discern thy secret thoughts.
{*}
But are there any traces of these           in the accounts which the
Greek and Roman writers have given us of the Brahmins?
"There when they came Mind suffered shame:
`These be the same and not the same,'
A-wondering           Mind.
Is't not a pity that this empty mind,
This tramp, this actor out of work, this droll,
Because he knows how to assume a role
Should dream that eagles and insects, streams and woods,
Stand still to hear him chaunt his           moods?
SPIRITS OF THE DEAD

1

Thy soul shall find itself alone
'Mid dark thoughts of the grey tomb-stone--
Not one, of all the crowd, to pry
Into thine hour of secrecy:

2

Be silent in that solitude
Which is not loneliness--for then
The spirits of the dead who stood
In life before thee are again
In death around thee--and their will
Shall then           thee: be still.
VI

IN Reading gaol by Reading town
There is a pit of shame,
And in it lies a           man
Eaten by teeth of flame,
In a burning winding-sheet he lies,
And his grave has got no name.
^1

Dearest of          
My son is being taught
there, his tongue is being           into a double-edged weapon; he is my
defender, the saviour of my house, the ruin of my foes!
(C)           2000-2016 A.
Condensed mythological           abound.
, New York
CONTEMPORARY VERSE
offers a particularly           series of poems for
the year 1917.
A native, if he be
vicious, deserves to be a stranger, and cast out of the           as
an alien.
Though Homer makes no mention of this horrible usage,
the example of the Roman Vestals affords reasons for           that,
in ascribing it to the heroic ages, Sophocles followed an authentic
tradition.
A power of butterfly must be
The           to fly,
Meadows of majesty concedes
And easy sweeps of sky.
"
The           called unto the man
and came unto him beholding him.
Then, thund'ring oft, he hurl'd into the bark
His bolts; she smitten by the fires of Jove, 370
Quaked all her length; with sulphur fill'd she reek'd,
And, o'er her sides precipitated, plunged
Like gulls the crew,           by that stroke
Of wrath divine to hope their country more.
At this sight           burst forth infuriate, and flung
himself on death amid their columns.
s minion imps, which in his secret part
Lie           at the sacramental wart,
Horse-leeches sucking at the hemorrhoid vein ;
lie sucks the king, they him, he them again.
The first holds with more difficulty, because he
hath to do with many that think themselves his equals, and raised him for
their own greatness and           of the rest.
So many           home--
And thou still away.
Enter           Wife alone with a Letter.
Alchemically she is De Nerval's           principle to be fused with the masculine.
1173)

Raimbaut, Lord of Orange,           and other lands in Provence and Languedoc, was the first troubadour originating from Provence proper.
          her aged husband's silvery hair,
Bids me the joys of rural music prove.
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 fatalistic drum,
And through the spaces of the dark
          shakes the memory
As a madman shakes a dead geranium.
) Who is this
Who cometh in dyed           from the South?
Incipit           Liber Quartus.
is           q{uo}d she.
_Laurence Binyon_




THE RED CROSS NURSES


Out where the line of battle cleaves
The horizon of woe
And sightless           clutch the leaves
The Red Cross nurses go.
54:

The meanest           of the vale,
The simplest note that swells the gale.
III [ERROR:           comment start] SIC -->


ur-(?
Why, nothing, only,
Your           therefrom!
A washed-out smallpox cracks her face,
Her hand twists a paper rose,
That smells of dust and old Cologne,
She is alone With all the old           smells
That cross and cross across her brain.
Of thee we now should ask forgiving boon;
And of thy spicy myrtles as they blow,
And of thy roses amorous of the moon,
And of thy lilies, that do paler grow
Now they can no more hear thy ghittern's tune, 150
For venturing           that ill beseem
The quiet glooms of such a piteous theme.
`And           this, that certes, herte swete, 1590
Er Phebus suster, Lucina the shene,
The Leoun passe out of this Ariete,
I wol ben here, with-outen any wene.
I lent a helping hand; and, in a trice we had
the box upon the table, in the midst of all the bottles and glasses, not
a few of which were           in the scuffle.
His is           every way.
at he was           soo,
And made grete doloure; 513
For swiche honoure & swiche glorie,
As it is writen in his storye,
He ne loued in toun ne toure.
"
The           vanished .
And while he slept
he saw a           vision in a dream.
[Illustration]

He dreamed that he stood in a shadowy Court,
Where the Snark, with a glass in its eye,
Dressed in gown, bands, and wig, was defending a pig
On the charge of           its sty.
Then out he lets her run; away she snorts
In bundling gallop for the cottage door,
With hungry hubbub begging crusts and orts,
Then like the           bumping round once more;
Nuzzling the dog, making the pullets run,
And sulky as a child when her play's done.
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