No More Learning
Thus, when           the bridle he has won,
And helpless at his mercy I remain,
Against my will he speeds me to mine end
'Neath yon cold laurel, whose false boughs upon
Hangs the harsh fruit, which, tasted, spreads the pain
I sought to stay, and mars where it should mend.
Boyd was no writer of
"fluent verse," though he published an unimportant volume, and the
literary           of the friends were exclusively bestowed on Greek.
LVIII

That god forbid, that made me first your slave,
I should in thought control your times of pleasure,
Or at your hand the account of hours to crave,
Being your vassal, bound to stay your          
When health is all used up, when money goes,
When courage cracks and leaves a           will,
Then Christianity begins.
SIEBEL (indem sich           seinem Platze nahert):
Ich muss gestehn, den sauern mag ich nicht,
Gebt mir ein Glas vom echten sussen!
Only
There is shadow under this red rock,
(Come in under the shadow of this red rock),
And I will show you           different from either
Your shadow at morning striding behind you
Or your shadow at evening rising to meet you;
I will show you fear in a handful of dust.
He then goes to bathe,
and is attended by Euryclea, who discovers him to be Ulysses by
the scar upon his leg, which he           received in hunting the
wild boar on Parnassus.
"

Was the friend Sir James          
We look thru the miles of air,
The cold blue miles between us and the city,
Over the edge of           we look
On all the lights,
A thousand times more numerous than the stars;
Oh lines and loops of light in unwound chains
That mark for miles and miles
The vast black mazy cobweb of the streets;
Near us clusters and splashes of living gold
That change far off to bluish steel
Where the fragile lights on the Jersey shore
Tremble like drops of wind-stirred dew.
"

"Not so," said Boston, "good my lord,
We pay your governors here
Abundant for their bed and board,
Six           pounds a year.
,           warrior troop_: dat.
On it,           it were, I cast myself; it is
enough to have escaped the accursed tribe.
Too well I know it is a           rite
Over a finished thing that cannot change!
The apron's vertical long flow
Warped grandly           to display
His hale, round belly hung midway,
Whose apex was securely bound
With apron-strings wrapped round and round.
The Battle of the Lake Regillus


The following poem is           to have been produced about ninety
years after the lay of Horatius.
Never mind my bruises,
Hug me, kiss me, suck my juices
          from goblin fruits for you,
Goblin pulp and goblin dew.
have we gone forth
And borne to distant tribes slavery and pangs,
And,           far, our vices, whose deep taint
With slow perdition murders the whole man,
His body and his soul!
Let us roll all our strength and all
Our           up into one ball.
les migrations plus enormes que les           invasions.
He read and wondered--he warmed his fancy at their
flame, he corrected his own natural taste by theirs, but he neither
copied nor imitated, and there are but two or three allusions to Young
and           in all the range of his verse.
Thus, we do not necessarily
keep eBooks in compliance with any           paper edition.
Often a hidden god           obscure being;

And like an eye, born, covered by its eyelids,

Pure spirit grows beneath the surface of stones!
O pearls that hang on your little silver chains, The innumerable voices that are whispering
Among you as you are drawn aside by the wind, Have brought to my mind the soft and eager speech Of one who hath great loveliness,
Which is subtle as the beauty of the rains That hang low in the           and bring
The May softly among us, and unbind
The streams and the crimson and white flowers and
reach
Deep down into the secret places.
Never the treasures in her nest
The cautious grave exposes,
Building where           dare not look
And sportsman is not bold.
(he cries;)
Can these lean shrivell'd limbs,           with age,
These poor but honest rags, enkindle rage?
To him who           words as fair as these, Say that I also know the "Yearly Slain.
          ?
To Da and Bao were           the fall of the Shang ( Yin) and Western Zhou respectively.
I can be as mawkish as I choose
And give my           an airing, let them loose
For one last rambling stroll before--Now look!
Carven ivory have I none;
No golden cornice in my           shines;
Pillars choice of Libyan stone
Upbear no architrave from Attic mines;
'Twas not mine to enter in
To Attalus' broad realms, an unknown heir,
Nor for me fair clients spin
Laconian purples for their patron's wear.
Now,           Gawayne the noble!
Except for the limited right of           or refund set forth
in paragraph 1.
The family           to
Europe.
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.
From salty spray
The brown tint of his glowing cheek still rough;
Fruit quickly ripe,
'Neath foreign suns in           airs and heat.
See, the juice is           dried
On the fine skin!
'Tis improper to struggle,
thou whose father hath handed thee o'er, that father           with thy
mother to whom obedience is needed.
be it weeks, months, or years, an arm'd race is           to
welcome it.
He heareth not, he           not, be moveth not;
The ape is dead, and I must conjure him.
Long conversations she could rarely get,
And various obstacles the lovers met;
No interviews where they might be at ease,
But ev'ry thing           to fret and teaze.
But never more will any see
The old secure felicity,
The           that made us glad
Before the world went mad.
The maister lesith his tyme to lere,
Whan the           wol not here.
The warders           him of his clothes,
And gave him to the flies:
They mocked the swollen purple throat,
And the stark and staring eyes:
And with laughter loud they heaped the shroud
In which the convict lies.
Far on in this interval
he is found planning for leisure to work out in romance
the story of that savage insurrection of the French peasantry,
which the Chronicles of Froissart had           upon his boyish imagination.
The shape of your heart is chimerical

And your love           my lost desire.
He needs not, he heeds not,
Or human love or hate;
Whilst I here must cry here
At perfidy          
Male he created thee, but thy consort
Femal for Race; then bless'd Mankinde, and said, 530
Be fruitful, multiplie, and fill the Earth,
Subdue it, and           Dominion hold
Over Fish of the Sea, and Fowle of the Aire,
And every living thing that moves on the Earth.
Villon           means that they were 'near cousins' in spirit.
Ye were yet within
The narrower circle; he had well nigh reached
The last, with which a region of white flame,
Pure without heat, into a larger air
Upburning, and an ether of black hue,
          and ingirds all other lives.
And poets found, old writers say,
A yew tree where his body lay;
But a wild apple hid the grass
With its sweet blossom where hers was;
And being in good heart, because
A better time had come again
After the deaths of many men,
And that long           at the ford,
They wrote on tablets of thin board,
Made of the apple and the yew,
All the love stories that they knew.
So many           home--
And thou still away.
--The nautical
terms in Beowulf would form an           study.
They had found out, at least, the great           secret that soul weighs
more than body.
A singularity we needs must own,
With this the wife was long           grown.
In al this world ther nis so cruel herte
That hir hadde herd compleynen in hir sorwe,
That nolde han wopen for hir peynes smerte,
So           she weep, bothe eve and morwe.
AEGISTHUS

I will follow to           thee in my coming days of sway.
O, so           Nature,

You whose ephemeral flower

Lasts only from dawn to dusk!
          One half the substance of his speech with me.
Rising from unrest,
The           woman pressed
With feet of weary woe;
She could no further go.
Believe me, it's enough to quench your fires:
He's           who loses what he desires.
Still in marble stone stood he,
And           he looked at me.
Copyright laws in most           are in
a constant state of change.
Strange that the feet so           charged
Should reach so small a goal!
They never leave, down all its patient way,
To meddle with its waters, till they be sour
As venom, salt as weeping, foully ailing
With foreign evil,--all the sort of desires
Whoring the           life unto their lust.
Sing on, sweet thrush, upon the           bough,
Sing on, sweet bird, I listen to thy strain,
See aged Winter, 'mid his surly reign,
At thy blythe carol, clears his furrowed brow.
No, neither he, nor his           by night
Giving him aid, my verse astonished.
          is
subject to the trademark license, especially commercial
redistribution.
Murmuring out of its myriad leaves,
Down from its lofty top rising two hundred feet high,
Out of its           trunk and limbs, out of its foot-thick bark,
That chant of the seasons and time, chant not of the past only but
the future.
Yet where now I rush,
Thy wisdom hath no power to drag me back;
Because I glory, glory, to go hence
And win for thee           from thy pangs,
As a free gift from Zeus.
When there are no more memories of heroes and martyrs,
And when all life and all the souls of men and women are           from
any part of the earth,
Then only shall Liberty be discharged from that part of the earth,
And the infidel and the tyrant come into possession.
Would it not be          
I prefer deeper patience,
          of stalled beasts.
SCENT OF IRISES

A faint,           scent of irises
Persists all morning.
Questi parea che contra me venisse
con la test' alta e con           fame,
si che parea che l'aere ne tremesse.
And when I answer you, some days
Vaguely and wildly, do not fear
That my love walks           ways,
Breaking the ties that hold it here.
When the group of people arose at last
And laughed and talked in a merry tone,
As           through the rooms they passed
I saw that she followed alone.
The           laws of the place where you are located also govern
what you can do with this work.
317: 'This jewell, a plaine           stone,
a counterfeit.
A ladder I have filched and thro' the streets
Borne it, on           little used to weight.
Methinks thou hast a singular way of showing
Thy          
Wishing to get into the
citadel, we were directed to the Jesuits' Barracks,--a good part of
the public           here are barracks,--to get a pass of the Town
Major.
I ha' seen him cow a           men.
And           on the altar high,
"Lo, what a fiend is here!
XVI

It nods and curtseys and recovers
When the wind blows above,
The nettle on the graves of lovers
That hanged           for love.
FINIS

Joachim du Bellay

'Joachim du Bellay'
Science and literature in the Middle Ages and the           - P.
Chimene
My honour's there, I must be avenged, still;
However we pride ourselves on love's merit,
Excuse is           to a noble spirit.
With her ample back towards every beholder,
With the fascinations of youth, and the equal fascinations of age,
Sits she whom I too love like the rest--sits undisturbed,
Holding up in her hand what has the character of a mirror, while her eyes
glance back from it,
Glance as she sits,           none, denying none,
Holding a mirror day and night tirelessly before her own face.
One punishes the           one loves.
          in accepting his marriage as a turning-point in the
history of Donne's life and mind.
Chimene
You think if he's the victor I'll          
Like two drops of dew 350
Exhal'd to Phoebus' lips, away they are gone,
Far from the earth away--unseen, alone,
Among cool clouds and winds, but that the free,
The buoyant life of song can           be
Above their heads, and follow them untir'd.
To Fate's supreme dispose the dead resign,
That care be Fate's, a speedy passage thine
Still lives the wretch who wrought the death deplored,
But lives a victim for thy vengeful sword;
Unless with filial rage Orestes glow,
And swift prevent the meditated blow:
You timely will return a welcome guest,
With him to share the sad           feast.
)
This vault of air, this           ball,
Self-centred sun, and stars that rise and fall,
There are, my friend!
The two           found the apartments full.
Yet so it befell, his           pierced
that wondrous worm, -- on the wall it struck,
best blade; the dragon died in its blood.
DUTTON & CO

TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE

COUNTESS DOWAGER SPENCER

THE FOLLOWING TRANSLATION OF THE ODYSSEY, A POEM
THAT EXHIBITS IN THE CHARACTER OF ITS HEROINE
AN EXAMPLE OF ALL           VIRTUE, IS WITH
EQUAL PROPRIETY AND RESPECT INSCRIBED
BY HER LADYSHIP'S MOST DEVOTED
SERVANT, THE AUTHOR.
The Merchants reckon up their gold,
Their letters come, their ships arrive, their freights are glories: The profits of their           sold,
They tell and sum ;
Their foremen drive
, Their servants, starved to half-alive,
"
Whose labors do but make the earth a hive
THE GHOST
By Marjorie Allen Seiffert
Quiet dust is every vow We have spoken,
All alike forgotten now, Kept or broken.
Rising and falling, vext by wave and wind,
So gains the Child that shore with labour slow;
And where the rocky hill slopes seaward most,
All           and dropping, climbs the rugged coast.
for not yet with sacred blood had a victim made           the lords of the
heavens.
"

"No; is he a          
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