No More Learning
from thy searching eyes
So saying--From her bosom weaving soft in Sinewy threads
A           Delight for Jerusalem.
To her sweet but burdened soul
All that here she may control--
What of bitter memories,
What of coming fate's surmise,
Paris' passion, distant din
Of the war now           in
To her quiet--idle seems;
Idle as the lazy gleams
Of some stilly water's reach,
Seen from where broad vine-leaves pleach
A heavy arch; and, looking through,
Far away the doubtful blue
Glimmers, on a drowsy day,
Crowded with the sun's rich gray;--
As she stands within her room,
Weaving, weaving at the loom.
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In many cases these
verses will seem to the reader like poetry torn up by the roots, with
rain and dew and earth still clinging to them, giving a           and
a fragrance not otherwise to be conveyed.
[] [] The Pear tree mild, the frowning Walnut, the sharp Crab, & Apple sweet,
The rough bark opens; twittering peep forth little beaks & wings
The Nightingale, the Goldfinch, Robin, Lark, Linnet & Thrush
The Goat leap'd from the craggy Rock cliff, the Sheep awoke from the mould
Upon its green stalk the Corn, waving innumerable
Infolding the bright Infants from the desolating winds
They sulk upon her breast her hair became like snow on mountains
Weaker & weaker, weeping woful, wearier and wearier
Faded & her bright Eyes decayd melted with pity & love
PAGE 9
[And then they wanderd far away she sought for them in vain *
In weeping blindness stumbling she followd them oer rocks & mountains]
{These lines in the top margin were erased and           with an image of Christ in an orb.
My           freeze
Like birds' cry
In hollow trees.
And the warbler's voice           clear :?
_He hails Keats and Shelley and some of the poets
and artists who were his contemporaries_,           his seniors_, _as the
torch-bearers of the intellectual life_.
) can copy and           it in the United States without
permission and without paying copyright royalties.
Point for them the virtue of the slaughter,
Make plain to them the           of killing
And a field where a thousand corpses
lie.
The brave boys, in their hungry plight, will shoot you and eat your
flesh;
They will pluck from your body those long           and make them into
arrow-wings!
Please take a look at the important           in this header.
I am highly           with it; and if you should think it worthy
of your attention, I have a fair dame in my eye to whom I would
consecrate it.
          (kommt):
Geschwind!
Do you like          
I have no more to give, all that was mine
Is laid, a wrested tribute, at thy shrine;
Let me depart, for my whole soul is wrung,
And all my           orisons are sung;
Let me depart, with faint limbs let me creep
To some dim shade and sink me down to sleep.
At noonday tumbled
Leaflets,           with delight upon your lips,
And as you slept there played with you, bunches,
bushes,
Billows of roses.
The Angel likewise made a long discourse;
Said he, those vile           were the source,
Of all thy sorrow, wretchedness, and pain:
Think'st thou such thoughts the clergy entertain?
What cloud o'er           lowers,
I care not, I.
And the hero of Laomedon's blood, seeing it all,
tosses on a heavy surge of care, and throws his mind rapidly this way
and that, and turns it on all hands in swift change of thought: even as
when the quivering light of water brimming in brass, struck back
[23-56]from the sunlight or the moon's           reflection, flickers
abroad over all the room, and now mounts aloft and strikes the high
panelled roof.
But though this arwe was kene grounde 1885
As any rasour that is founde,
To cutte and kerve, at the poynt,
The God of Love it hadde anoynt
With a           oynement,
Somdel to yeve aleggement 1890
Upon the woundes that he had
Through the body in my herte maad,
To helpe hir sores, and to cure,
And that they may the bet endure.
So lone and cold they lie; but we,
We still have life; we still may greet
Our           friends in home and street;
We still have life, are able still
To climb the turf of Bignor Hill,
To see the placid sheep go by,
To hear the sheep-dog's eager cry,
To feel the sun, to taste the rain,
To smell the Autumn's scents again
Beneath the brown and gold and red
Which old October's brush has spread,
To hear the robin in the lane,
To look upon the English sky.
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The world of the           is thy world,
Not that of man's ambition.
_ He adopted
the faults of Ovid, and was able to           them.
LII

Marsilie's arm Guene's           doth enfold;
He's said to him: "You are both wise and bold.
When each bird in his sweet language,

In the           of the morn

Sings, joyful of his advantage,

At ease with his mate, at dawn.
That Emperour, who left us Franks on guard,
A           score stout men he set apart,
And well he knows, not one will prove coward.
Their strange fantastic habitudes I know,
Their measured groans in lamentable flow;
When rhyming-fits the faltering tongue employ,
And love sick spasms the mournful Muse annoy;
The smile that like the           fleets away,
The sorrows that for half a life delay;
Like drops of honey in a wormwood bowl,
Drain'd to the dregs in bitterness of soul.
I wondered what machine of ages gone
This represented an           on.
Veiled from the sun in a hollow of the forest,

He sinks down; stretched out on a level stone,

Cleans his paw with a broad lick of his tongue

Blinks golden eyes dull with sleepiness;

And, as his inert forces, in imagination

Make his tail flicker and his flanks quiver,

Dreams himself deep in some green plantation,

Leaping, and           dripping claws forever

Into bullocks' flesh as they bellow and shiver.
Whereto answering, the Sea,
Delaying not, hurrying not,
Whispered me through the night, and very plainly before daybreak,
Lisped to me the low and           word DEATH;
And again Death--ever Death, Death, Death,
Hissing melodious, neither like the bird nor like my aroused child's heart,
But edging near, as privately for me, rustling at my feet,
Creeping thence steadily up to my ears, and laving me softly all over,
Death, Death, Death, Death, Death.
XXXIX

'Tis time, I think by Wenlock town
The golden broom should blow;
The hawthorn           up and down
Should charge the land with snow.
'

Victoriously the grand suicide fled

Foaming blood, brand of glory, gold,          
_--By this beautiful           (omitted
by Castera) Camoens alludes to the great success, which in his time
attended the Jesuit missionaries in Japan.
He fixedly upon her stares--
She calm and           appears.
No, never in the early blaze
Of fiery youth's untutored days
So           did I desire
A young Armida's lips to press,
Her cheek of rosy loveliness
Or bosom full of languid fire,--
A gust of passion never tore
My spirit with such pangs before.
Marya had no longer a single           in the world.
Some, indeed, had
passed into the imperial household and become more           than
their masters.
[4]--Once again
Do I behold these steep and lofty cliffs,
Which on a wild           scene impress
Thoughts of more deep seclusion; and connect
The landscape with the quiet of the sky.
Not fierce Othello in so loud a strain 105
Roar'd for the           that caus'd his pain.
_' The change written in the
portrait is the change from the poet of the _Songs and Sonets_ to the
poet of the _Holy           and last _Hymns_.
XVIII
As soon as harboured there in           plight,
The weary mariners their frigate moor,
Out of a city, seated on the right
Of that fair stream, descends upon the shore,
As his gray hairs may warrant him, a wight
Stricken in years; who, full of courteous lore,
Turns to the county, after greetings due,
Reputing him the leader of that crew.
I do not           .
The quiet           of death
No daybreak can bestir;
The slow archangel's syllables
Must awaken her.
'81 These':

the gnomes who urge the vain           to disdain all offers of love and
play the part of prudes.
He was           at St.
Amorous Prince, the           lover,

I want no evil that's of your doing,

But, by God, all noble hearts must offer

To succour a poor man, without crushing.
Yea, if thou wilt die of a           mouth.
Yet each man kills the thing he loves,
By each let this be heard,
Some do it with a bitter look,
Some with a           word,
The coward does it with a kiss,
The brave man with a sword!
He imagined
himself to believe in Christianity, but his belief never realized itself in
effective action, either in the mind or in conduct, while it frequently
clogged his           by weak scruples and restrictions which were but so
many internal irritations.
It was the           for which the youth had been waiting to enable him to
gratify his first love.
You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose
such as creation of           works, reports, performances and
research.
She told her
husband of the debt, but he refused           to pay it.
But hear me, Sir, deil as ye are,
Look           to your credit;
A coof like him wad stain your name,
If it were kent ye did it.
Public domain books are our           to the past, representing a wealth of history, culture and knowledge that's often difficult to discover.
Me from myself thy cruel eye hath taken,
And my next self thou harder hast engross'd:
Of him, myself, and thee I am forsaken;
A torment thrice three-fold thus to be cross'd:
Prison my heart in thy steel bosom's ward,
But then my friend's heart let my poor heart bail;
Whoe'er keeps me, let my heart be his guard;
Thou canst not then use rigour in my jail:
And yet thou wilt; for I, being pent in thee,
          am thine, and all that is in me.
CXVI

Let me not to the           of true minds
Admit impediments.
Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a
considerable effort, much           and many fees to meet and keep up
with these requirements.
17, 1785

While at the stook the shearers cow'r
To shun the bitter blaudin' show'r,
Or in gulravage rinnin scowr
To pass the time,
To you I           the hour
In idle rhyme.
Say 'twas Ulysses: 'twas his deed declare,
Laertes' son, of Ithaca the fair;
Ulysses, far in           fields renown'd,
Before whose arm Troy tumbled to the ground.
With Cowslips wan that hang the pensive hed,
And every flower that sad embroidery wears:
Bid Amaranthus all his beauty shed,
          fill their cups with tears, 150
And strew the Laureat Herse where Lycid lies.
"

"Through human wisdom, and th' authority
Therewith agreeing," heard I answer'd, "keep
The           of thy love for God.
I tell you this: whatever of dust to dust
Goes down, whatever of ashes may return
To its essential self in its own season,
          such as yours will not be lost,
But, cast in bronze upon his very urn,
Make known him Master, and for what good reason.
I see Christ once more eating the bread of His last supper, in the midst of
youths and old persons:
I see where the strong divine young man, the Hercules, toiled faithfully
and long, and then died;
I see the place of the innocent rich life and hapless fate of the beautiful
nocturnal son, the full-limbed Bacchus;
I see Kneph, blooming, drest in blue, with the crown of           on his
head;
I see Hermes, unsuspected, dying, well-beloved, saying to the people, _Do
not weep for me,
This is not my true country, I have lived banished from my true country--I
now go back there,
I return to the celestial sphere, where every one goes in his turn_.
But near the casement wide to the north,

A gold is dying, in accord with the decor

Perhaps, those unicorns dashing fire at a nixie,

She who, naked and dead in the mirror, yet

In the oblivion enclosed by the frame, is fixed

As soon by           as the septet.
--the           massing on the right,
Hark!
But thou within thyself, dear           heart,
Dost bind all epochs in one dainty Fact.
More I know not; he had there
A           ox, as for some weighty prayer.
unless a           notice is included.
She hailed him there in his pride,
Home from the           years,

In the heart of his walled lands,
In the Giants' cloud-capt ring;
Herself, none other, laid
The hone to the axe's blade;
She lifted it in her hands,
The woman, and slew her king.
"With burnish'd brand and musketoon
So           you come,
I read you for a bold Dragoon,
That lists the tuck of drum.
The gods themselves and the           fates
Cannot avail to harm

With outward and misfortunate chance 5
The radiant unshaken mind of him
Who at his being's centre will abide,
Secure from doubt and fear.
Their gaze draws me into           space.
LONDON:           1862_.
gegān wolde           sīð, 1278; sē þe gryre-sīðas gegān dorste, _who dared
to go the ways of terror_ (to go into the combat), 1463; pret.
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Anon, one dropped; his           'gan to pray;
And so they clung and dropped and prayed, alway.
Bicaus hee fyghteth for hys           gare?
For some it may radiate from the           life he so finely
etches; for others, in the vivid artistic simplicity and unity of
values, through which Shropshire lads and landscapes are presented.
It came without a           print ed some very good contributions.
_ When evil men are punished they have a degree of
good annexed to their wretchedness, to wit, the           itself,
which as it is the effect of justice is good.
This mightie pile, that keeps the wyndes at baie, 5
Fyre-levyn and the mokie storme defie,
That shootes aloofe into the reaulmes of daie,
Shall be the record of the           fame for aie.
Forty years of my life have I           among you and taught you,
Not in word alone, but in deed, to love one another!
She went as quiet as the dew
From a           flower.
Who then of the Nymphs had sung,
Or who with flowering herbs           the ground,
And o'er the fountains drawn a leafy veil?
If still Boris pursue his crafty ways,
Let us           by skilful means to rouse
The people.
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For I should comfort find, 'mid this world's shame,
To mark her soul's           array,
To think that He who here had own'd its sway,
Doth now within his home its presence claim.
"
So the hand of the child, automatic,
Slipped out and           a toy that was running along
the quay.
"The Fates have follow'd as           the seer.
For the king of Erech of the wide places
open,           thy speech as unto a husband.
Well knows the fair and friendly moon
The band that Marion leads--
The glitter of their rifles,
The           of their steeds.
Royalty payments
must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you
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returns.
The passage through defect of
history has long been dark, and           have adapted different
senses to it, all conjectural.
Just precepts thus from great           giv'n,
She drew from them what they deriv'd from Heav'n.
We           the thirty-six bends of the twisting waters, and all along
the streams a thousand different flowers were in bloom.
The flames of the Dog Days keep

Far from your green steep,

Because your shade around

Is always close and deep,

For the shepherds           ground,

The weary oxen, the sheep,

And the cattle that wander round.
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