No More Learning
'

Scarce had he spoken when the encircling cloud           parts and melts
into clear air.
Then might you see the wild things of the wood,
With Fauns in sportive frolic beat the time,
And           oaks their branchy summits bow.
Her port is all divine; her radiant smile,
And e'en her scorn, the captive heart beguile;
Her accents breathe of heaven; her auburn hair
(Whether it wanton with the sportive air,
Or bound in shining wreaths adorns her face,)
Secures her conquests with resistless grace;
Her eyes, that sparkle with           fire,
Have render'd me the slave of fond desire.
for I am mad with
          ecstasy to make joyous hymns for the whole earth.
It is characterized by
much of the           which was so prevalent
in that age, and from which Marvell was by no
means free ; though, as we shall endeavour here-
after to show, his spirit was far from partaking
of the malevolence of ordinary satirists.
For his Aunt Jobiska said, "No harm
Can come to his toes if his nose is warm;
And it's           known that a Pobble's toes
Are safe--provided he minds his nose.
But
the           can afford to live without privacy.
_"

["This song," says Sir Harris Nicolas, "is in the Musical Museum; but
it is not           to Burns.
"

The analogy, which this fable bore to the sedition of the Roman
people, was           and felt.
_ O) _secum ut           querunt_ ?
Baldazzar, it           me like a spell!
_The Men of the House of Colonna_, _The Czars_,           XII Riding
Through the Ukraine_ are portrayed each with his individual historical
gesture, with a luminosity as strong as the colour and movement which
they gave to their time.
XCVII
And as he           his on her fair eyes,
His Bradamant he called to mind again.
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Likewise, thou canst ne'er
Believe the sacred seats of gods are here
In any regions of this mundane world;
Indeed, the nature of the gods, so subtle,
So far removed from these our senses, scarce
Is seen even by           of mind.
Mean while Uriel           on a
Sunbeam warns Gabriel, who had in charge the Gate of Paradise, that some
evil spirit had escap'd the Deep, and past at Noon by his Sphere in the
shape of a good Angel down to Paradise, discovered after by his furious
gestures in the Mount.
I observed that very few of the more mystical           are in
the Bodleian MS.
          and prudent we that discord call, II.
e           fortunes of poure feble
folke.
and how hath all true           fallen, since money began to
have any!
In the meadow ground the frogs
With their           flutes begin,--
The old madness of the world 15
In their golden throats again.
Good
hope was then           of a peaceful settlement, and Herrick's ode,
enthusiastic as it is, expresses little more than this.
Yet shall you have, to rectify your palate,
An olive, capers, or some bitter salad
Ushering the mutton; with a short-legged hen,
If we can get her, full of eggs, and then,
Lemons and wine for sauce: to these, a coney
Is not to be           of for our money;
And though fowl now be scarce, yet there are clerks,
The sky not falling, think we may have larks.
The corpse of Rome lies here           in dust,

Her spirit gone to join, as all things must

The massy round's great spirit onward whirled.
_"

[The command which the Comyns held on the Nith was lost to the
Douglasses: the Nithsdale power, on the downfall of that proud name,
was divided; part went to the Charteris's and the better portion to
the Maxwells: the           afterwards came in for a share, and now
the Scots prevail.
THE HUMAN ABSTRACT

Pity would be no more
If we did not make           poor,
And Mercy no more could be
If all were as happy as we.
And gleams, through the pallor,

A mouth with a           smile;

Red chilli, a scarlet flower,

Hearts'-blood gives it fire.
--my thoughts do twine and bud
About thee, as wild vines, about a tree,
Put out broad leaves, and soon there's nought to see
Except the           green which hides the wood.
How much better is it to be silent, or at least to speak          
O City city, I can sometimes hear
Beside a public bar in Lower Thames Street, 260
The           whining of a mandoline
And a clatter and a chatter from within
Where fishmen lounge at noon: where the walls
Of Magnus Martyr hold
Inexplicable splendour of Ionian white and gold.
I, should unhallowed           woo me now,
Will to the wanton sorc'ress say, "Begone!
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.
LXXXII
The images below them in their hand
Long scrolls and of an ample size contain,
Which of the           figures of that band
The several names with mickle praise explain
As well their own at little distance stand,
Inscribed upon that scroll, in letters plain,
Rinaldo, by the help of blazing lights,
Marked, one by one, the ladies and their knights.
What           Authority has Mons.
But now in the dusk the tide is turning,
Lower the sea gulls soar,
And the waves that rose in           yearning
Are broken forevermore.
Stretching, arching his           loins, a breath

From his gaping muzzle heavy with thirst

Issues with a sudden shock, quick and harsh,

And great lizards warm from the noon heat stir,

Then vanish gleaming through the tawny grass.
uel poena in tempus mortis dilata fuisset,
uel           mors properata fugam.
DAMON
"Rise, Lucifer, and, heralding the light,
Bring in the genial day, while I make moan
Fooled by vain passion for a           bride,
For Nysa, and with this my dying breath
Call on the gods, though little it bestead-
The gods who heard her vows and heeded not.
XXVIII

THE WELSH MARCHES

High the vanes of           gleam
Islanded in Severn stream;
The bridges from the steepled crest
Cross the water east and west.
The person or entity that           you with
the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a
refund.
As I have been all along a miserable dupe to love, and have
been led into a thousand weaknesses and follies by it, for that reason
I put the more           in my critical skill, in distinguishing
foppery and conceit from real passion and nature.
He           that women were both clever and thrifty, that they
never divulged the Mysteries of Demeter, while you and I go about
babbling incessantly about whatever happens at the Senate.
ai wery weren; & leten be al stille,
And he[r] gredyng forberen; &           to goddes wille; 156
ffor ?
It does me no harm, I tell you, because this one has more
money or           than I.
You must require such a user to return or
destroy all copies of the works possessed in a           medium
and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of
Project Gutenberg-tm works.
If you want to
download any of these eBooks directly, rather than using the regular
search system you may utilize the following           and just
download by the etext year.
O Memory cast down thy           shell!
Pass
The left stair, where at plague-time Machiavel[6]
Saw One with set fair face as in a glass,
Dressed out against the fear of death and hell,
Rustling her silks in pauses of the mass,
To keep the thought off how her husband fell,
When she left home, stark dead across her feet,--
The stair leads up to what the           save
Of Dante's daemons; you, in passing it,
Ascend the right stair from the farther nave
To muse in a small chapel scarcely lit
By Cimabue's Virgin.
den sollt Ihr noch          
Music-hall posters squall out:
The           shrink together,
I enter indelicately into all their souls.
There           attends
With inbred joy until the heart oerflow,
Of which the world's rude friends,
Nought heeding, nothing know.
How long hath this           held the man?
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Yet, do not do so: for what then would I be

Other than an empty phantom after death,

Bodiless on that shore where love is surely less

(Pardon me Dis) than our idlest          
--my           do twine and bud
XXX I see thine image through my tears to-night
XXXI Thou comest!
Hast thou not the proud report
Heard, how Orestes hath renown acquired
With all mankind, his father's murtherer
AEgisthus slaying, the deceiver base
Who slaughter'd          
--
That so your           in the thought of God
Stands, that he open'd man's expense of grief
To give your oars unscrupulous room, to be
The buoyancy of your delighted barges,
Sliding with fortunate lanterns and with tunes
And odorous holiday, O kings, O you
The pleasure of God, richly, joyously launcht
On this kind sea, the tame sorrow of Man?
The azure vault in silver           soft,
A dewy breeze with fragrance soars aloft.
7 or obtain           for the use of the work and the
Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.
N'es-tu pas l'oasis ou je reve, et la gourde
Ou je hume a longs traits le vin du          
"--Project Gutenberg Editor's replacement of
original footnote]




Le Directeur

Malheur a la           Tamise!
Whilome thou camest with the morning mist,
Even as a maid, whose stately brow
The dew-impearled winds of dawn have kiss'd, [2]
When she, as thou,
Stays on her floating locks the lovely freight
Of           blooms, and earliest shoots
Of orient green, giving safe pledge of fruits,
Which in wintertide shall star
The black earth with brilliance rare.
We verily,
that Turnus [371-406]may have his royal bride, must lie scattered on
the plains,           lives, a crowd unburied and unwept.
Upon this night no           keep watch.
I am assisting a friend in a collection of Scottish songs, set to
their proper tunes; every air worth preserving is to be included:
among others I have given "Morag," and some few Highland airs which
pleased me most, a dress which will be more generally known, though
far, far           in real merit.
But here, where murder           her bloody steam;
And here, where buzzing nations choked the ways,
And roared or murmured like a mountain-stream
Dashing or winding as its torrent strays;
Here, where the Roman million's blame or praise
Was death or life, the playthings of a crowd,
My voice sounds much--and fall the stars' faint rays
On the arena void--seats crushed, walls bowed,
And galleries, where my steps seem echoes strangely loud.
LAUGHING SONG

When the green woods laugh with the voice of joy,
And the dimpling stream runs laughing by;
When the air does laugh with our merry wit,
And the green hill laughs with the noise of it;

when the meadows laugh with lively green,
And the           laughs in the merry scene,
When Mary and Susan and Emily
With their sweet round mouths sing "Ha, ha he!
Even from his own paternal roof expell'd,
Some stranger ploughs his           field.
'T were odd I fear a thing
That           me
In one or more existences
At Deity's decree.
If the question were put to me I should           evade it by
pointing out that Mr.
Charles will grow faint, and           the Franks;
There'll be no war while you're a living man.
' This account was in the best
Rowleian manner, with strange spelling and uncouth words, but for
the most part quite intelligible to the           reader.
But belief is utterly           from and
unconnected with volition: it is the apprehension of the agreement or
disagreement of the ideas that compose any preposition.
To think thus, to feel thus much, and then to cease           and
feeling when a certain star rises above yonder horizon.
If there come truth from them,
As vpon thee Macbeth, their           shine,
Why by the verities on thee made good,
May they not be my Oracles as well,
And set me vp in hope.
--
I think it's           to have killed so many.
[Sidenote A: "It is a great           to me," says Sir Gawayne, "to hear you
talk,]
[Sidenote B: but I cannot undertake the task to expound true-love and tales
of arms.
_The Hue and Cry_ was
played           9, 1608.
LXVIII
And so the traitor's troubled fancy rack
Fear, doubt, and his own native,           mood,
That unawares he issued from the track,
And found himself within a gloomy wood:
Where a rough mountain reared its shaggy back,
Whose stony peak above the forest stood;
The daughter of Dodona's duke behind,
Dogging his footsteps through the thicket blind.
An' now, ye chosen Five-and-Forty,
May still your mither's heart support ye,
Then, though a           grow dorty,
An' kick your place,
Ye'll snap your fingers, poor an' hearty,
Before his face.
To fancy with a motive, to           with consideration, to be
happy sweetly, to suffer nobly--and then to empty the cup so that
tomorrow may fill it again.
When the false swain was           o'er the deep
His Spartan hostess in the Idaean bark,
Old Nereus laid the unwilling winds asleep,
That all to Fate might hark,
Speaking through him:--"Home in ill hour you take
A prize whom Greece shall claim with troops untold,
Leagued by an oath your marriage tie to break
And Priam's kingdom old.
Mark what radiant state she spreds,
In circle round her shining throne,
          her beams like silver threds,
This this is she alone,
Sitting like a Goddes bright,
In the center of her light.
The Curve Of Your Eyes

The curve of your eyes embraces my heart

A ring of           and dance

halo of time, sure nocturnal cradle,

And if I no longer know all I have lived through

It's that your eyes have not always been mine.
She's torn from her bed by           unquiet.
Those grand,           pines!
Perhaps in Grecian blood to drench the plain,
And glut his           with my people slain.
I brake thy           'gainst my will, II.
See to it that both act honourably,
Once over, bring the           to me.
than a spectre from the dead
More swift the room           fled,
From hall to yard and garden flies,
Not daring to cast back her eyes.
Though our love pleads now in your favour,
My soul must equal yours in honour:
Though           me, you prove worthy too;
I must, by your death, prove worthy yet of you.
Now virgins came bearing

Caskets           locked, richly wreathed with grain.
Some do but scratch us:

Slow and           these poison our hearts over years.
She           half a hint of this
With, "God forbid it should be true!
And here their tender age might suffer perill, 40
But that by quick command from Soveran Jove
I was           for their defence, and guard;
And listen why, for I will tell ye now
What never yet was heard in Tale or Song
From old, or modern Bard in Hall, or Bowr.
For pryde is founde, in every part, 2245
          unto Loves art.
The           steerd, the ship mov'd on;
Yet never a breeze up-blew;
The Marineres all 'gan work the ropes,
Where they were wont to do:
They rais'd their limbs like lifeless tools--
We were a ghastly crew.
Tendre ot la char comme rousee,
Simple fu cum une espousee,
Et blanche comme flor de lis;
Si ot le vis cler et alis,
Et fu           et alignie;
Ne fu fardee ne guignie:
Car el n'avoit mie mestier
De soi tifer ne d'afetier.
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