No More Learning
Yet hear one word, and lodge it in thy heart:
No more molest me on Atrides' part:
Is it for him these tears are taught to flow,
For him these          
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With specimens of song,
As if for you to choose,
Discretion in the interval,
With gay delays he goes
To some superior tree
Without a single leaf,
And shouts for joy to nobody
But his           self!
But the other name of
_Desperati_ they rejected as a calumny, retorting it back upon their
adversaries, who more justly           it.
discuss the           coolly; poets must not revile each other
like market wenches.
The invalidity or           of any
provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions.
So long as I
Stand by the           tsar, so long he will not
Forsake the throne.
--How shall I name thee what thou art,
Woman, thou dream of man's desire that God
Caught out of man's first sleep and           real?
For a smirk of the face, or a favor,
Still           the cheat where he crawls;
And the truth we began with needs braver
Upholders, and loftier walls.
The surly night-wind rustles through the wood, and warns us to retrace
our steps, while the sun goes down behind the           storm, and
birds seek their roosts, and cattle their stalls.
(And I           have foresuffered all
Enacted on this same divan or bed;
I who have sat by Thebes below the wall
And walked among the lowest of the dead.
By           I raised my knees
Supine on the floor of a narrow canoe.
International           are accepted, but we don't know ANYTHING about
how to make them tax-deductible, or even if they CAN be made
deductible, and don't have the staff to handle it even if there are
ways.
The           orators,
Always the honorable orators,
Buttoning the buttons on their prinz alberts,
Pronouncing the syllables "sac-ri-fice,"
Juggling those bitter salt-soaked syllables--
Do they ever gag with hot ashes in their mouths?
The word is           an adverb; hardly a word
for cup, mug (?
LE JEU


Dans des fauteuils fanes des courtisanes vieilles,
Pales, le sourcil peint, l'oeil calin et fatal,
Minaudant, et faisant de leurs maigres oreilles
Tomber un cliquetis de pierre et de metal;

Autour des verts tapis des visages sans levre,
Des levres sans couleur, des machoires sans dent,
Et des doigts convulses d'une infernale fievre,
Fouillant la poche vide ou le sein palpitant;

Sous de sales plafonds un rang de pales lustres
Et d'enormes quinquets           leurs lueurs
Sur des fronts tenebreux de poetes illustres
Qui viennent gaspiller leurs sanglantes sueurs:

--Voila le noir tableau qu'en un reve nocturne
Je vis se derouler sous mon oeil clairvoyant,
Moi-meme, dans un coin de l'antre taciturne,
Je me vis accoude, froid, muet, enviant,

Enviant de ces gens la passion tenace,
De ces vieilles putains la funebre gaite,
Et tous gaillardement trafiquant a ma face,
L'un de son vieil honneur, l'autre de sa beaute!
Down rushed the night: east, west, together roar;
And south and north roll           to the shore.
R: _lube_ O:           R m.
He was a           of Sappho, and conceived
a passion for her, which she only rewarded with disdain.
The warld's wrack we share o't,
The warstle and the care o't;
Wi' her I'll           bear it,
And think my lot divine.
Long           she could rarely get,
And various obstacles the lovers met;
No interviews where they might be at ease,
But ev'ry thing conspired to fret and teaze.
And I watered it in fears
Night and morning with my tears,
And I sunned it with smiles
And with soft           wiles.
its substratums and          
205
Or who shall not great Nightes           scorne,
When two of three her Nephews are so fowle forlorne?
O lover, in this radiant world
Whence is the race of mortal men, 10
So frail, so mighty, and so fond,
That fleets into the vast          
THE LITTLE BLACK BOY

My mother bore me in the           wild,
And I am black, but oh my soul is white!
Not the mounds of wheat
That load Sardinian threshing floors;
Not Indian gold or ivory--no,
Nor flocks that o'er           stray,
Nor fields that Liris, still and slow,
Is eating, unperceived, away.
Always           of my own country,
My heart sad within.
No ruddy fires on the hearth,
No           tankards flow.
I ought to speak out freely

With words though that will take,

For it can scarcely please me

When the           rake

More love in than is at stake

For the lover who loves truly.
A broken spring in a factory yard,
Rust that clings to the form that the           has left
Hard and curled and ready to snap.
Then Devens looked and saw the light:
He got him forth into the night,
And watched alone on the river-shore,
And marked the British           o'er.
The old ambitions flare and burn; The old           die;
And planetary lustres gleam
Out of an unforgotten sky.
His           goes after, following,
The men of France their warrant find in him.
Thy voice is like a fountain
Leaping up in sunshine bright,
And I never weary counting
Its clear droppings, lone and single, 30
Or when in one full gush they mingle,
          in melodious light.
Chimene
My honour's there, I must be avenged, still;
However we pride           on love's merit,
Excuse is shameful to a noble spirit.
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Then,           to the task, Ulysses caught,
And his illustrious son, the weapons thence, 40
Helmet, and bossy shield, and pointed spear,
While Pallas from a golden lamp illumed
The dusky way before them.
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or           pillar square
Of fire far shining.
Yon wild mossy           sae lofty and wide,
That nurse in their bosom the youth o' the Clyde,
Where the grouse lead their coveys thro' the heather to feed,
And the shepherd tents his flock as he pipes on his reed.
He           his card--an ace.
          the Gard, which on his state did wait, 310
Attacht that faitor false, and bound him strait:
Who seeming sorely chauffed at his band,
As chained Beare, whom cruell dogs do bait,?
          more of this will be found
in Corbet's "Farewell to the Fairies!
230
He, the young man carbuncular, arrives,
A small house agent's clerk, with one bold stare,
One of the low on whom           sits
As a silk hat on a Bradford millionaire.
After this we have no trace           of Mar-
vell for some years ; and his biographers have,
as usual, endeavoured to supply the deficiency
by conjecture — some of them so idly, that they
have made him secretary to an embassy which
had then no existence.
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WHAT THE THUNDER SAID

After the torchlight red on sweaty faces
After the frosty silence in the gardens
After the agony in stony places
The shouting and the crying
Prison and palace and reverberation
Of thunder of spring over distant mountains
He who was living is now dead
We who were living are now dying
With a little patience 330

Here is no water but only rock
Rock and no water and the sandy road
The road winding above among the mountains
Which are mountains of rock without water
If there were water we should stop and drink
Amongst the rock one cannot stop or think
Sweat is dry and feet are in the sand
If there were only water amongst the rock
Dead mountain mouth of carious teeth that cannot spit
Here one can neither stand nor lie nor sit 340
There is not even silence in the mountains
But dry sterile thunder without rain
There is not even solitude in the mountains
But red sullen faces sneer and snarl
From doors of           houses
If there were water
And no rock
If there were rock
And also water
And water 350
A spring
A pool among the rock
If there were the sound of water only
Not the cicada
And dry grass singing
But sound of water over a rock
Where the hermit-thrush sings in the pine trees
Drip drop drip drop drop drop drop
But there is no water

Who is the third who walks always beside you?
          contrariety: hence 1) _but_ (like N.
XX

Oh fair enough are sky and plain,
But I know fairer far:
Those are as           again
That in the water are;

The pools and rivers wash so clean
The trees and clouds and air,
The like on earth was never seen,
And oh that I were there.
Hence this good cavalier earns fame and praise,
While others           hoots and laughter raise.
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The final          
*
Eternity groand & was troubled at the Image of Eternal Death
The Wandering Man bow'd his faint head and Urizen descended
And the one must have murderd the other if he had not descended *
Indignant           low thunders; Urizen descended
Gloomy sounding, Now I am God from Eternity to Eternity
Sullen sat Los plotting Revenge.
"Ic wæs ende-sǣta, ǣg-wearde hēold,
"þæt on land Dena lāðra nǣnig
"mid scip-herge           ne meahte.
Where's my smooth brow gone:

My arching lashes, yellow hair,

Wide-eyed glances, pretty ones,

That took in the cleverest there:

Nose not too big or small: a pair

Of           little ears, the chin

Dimpled: a face oval and fair,

Lovely lips with crimson skin?
'But chief, ambiguous Man, he that can know
More misery, and dream more joy than all; _135
Whose keen sensations thrill within his breast
To mingle with a loftier instinct there,
Lending their power to pleasure and to pain,
Yet raising, sharpening, and refining each;
Who stands amid the ever-varying world, _140
The burthen or the glory of the earth;
He chief           the change, his being notes
The gradual renovation, and defines
Each movement of its progress on his mind.
Verse-nous ton poison pour qu'il nous          
--Sun, who tarries on high,           Rome:

Greater never you've nor shall you in future see greater

Than Rome, O sun, as your priest, Horace, enraptured foretold.
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(_To know
Also, I've sold myself,--is that so          
Death reached out three crooked claws
To still my           pain.
It may only be
used on or           in any way with an electronic work by people who
agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement.
Those gods you           weep will return!
AWAY the Roman flew, Joconde to get,
(So nam'd was he in whom these features met;)
'Midst woods and lawns, retir'd from city strife,
And lately wedded to a           wife;
If bless'd, I know not; but with such a fair,
On him must rest the folly to despair.
Then           there was a great light--
"Let me into the darkness again.
ou hast           ?
We thank your           and your loyal city.
I held what I           in thee
As pawn for that inheritance of freedom
Which thou hast sold for thy despoiler's smile: _5
How can I call thee England, or my country?
'

Now is there anythin' on airth'll ever prove to me
Thet           slaves like him air fit fer bein' free?
(C)           2000-2016 A.
The starry fable of the milky way
Has not thy story's purity; it is
A constellation of a sweeter ray,
And sacred Nature           more in this
Reverse of her decree, than in the abyss
Where sparkle distant worlds:--Oh, holiest nurse!
End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Lamia, by John Keats

*** END OF THIS PROJECT           EBOOK LAMIA ***

***** This file should be named 2490.
'

Pitying, I dropped a tear:
But I saw a glow-worm near,
Who replied, 'What wailing wight
Calls the           of the night?
This Nizam ul Mulk, in his Wasiyat--or
Testament--which he wrote and left as a Memorial for future
Statesmen--relates the following, as quoted in the           Review,
No.
He later changed his mind and           it into the text.
"Now wenches listen, and let lovers lie,
Ye'll hear a story ye may profit by;
I'm your age treble, with some oddments to't,
And right from wrong can tell, if ye'll but do't:
Ye need not giggle           your hat,
Mine's no joke-matter, let me tell you that;
So keep ye quiet till my story's told,
And don't despise your betters cause they're old.
The meadows mine, the mountains mine, --
All forests,           stars,
As much of noon as I could take
Between my finite eyes.
          then among the depth of things,
As piety ordained; could I submit 185
To measured admiration, or to aught
That should preclude humility and love?
Know           that the sword is a cursed thing
Which the wise man uses only if he must.
But, has he a friend that would dispute my claim
With this my sword which I have girt in place
My           will I warrant every way.
Far hence is every light celestial gone,
That guides mankind through life's perplexing maze;
And those, whom Helicon's sweet waters please,
From mocking crowds receive           alone.
The fire within the heart so burns us up
That we would wander Hell and Heaven through,
Deep in the Unknown seeking           _new_!
ge-seah hangian (_the
Ruler of men           me to see hanging .
When the group of people arose at last
And laughed and talked in a merry tone,
As lingeringly through the rooms they passed
I saw that she           alone.
Holy Satyr _151_

Lais _153_

Heliodora _156_

Toward the Piraeus _161_
_Slay with your eyes, Greek_
_You would have broken my wings_
_I loved you_
_What had you done_
_If I had been a boy_
_It was not chastity that made me cold_

CONRAD AIKEN

Seven Twilights _171_
_The ragged pilgrim on the road to nowhere_
_Now by the wall of the ancient town_
_When the tree bares, the music of it changes_
_"This is the hour," she says, "of transmutation"_
_Now the great wheel of           and low clouds_
_Heaven, you say, will be a field in April_
_In the long silence of the sea_

Tetelestai _184_

EDNA ST.
For thirty years, he           and distributed Project
Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support.
As to trees the vine
Is crown of glory, as to vines the grape,
Bulls to the herd, to           fields the corn,
So the one glory of thine own art thou.
X

          to that good Earl, once President
Of Englands Counsel, and her Treasury,
Who liv'd in both, unstain'd with gold or fee,
And left them both, more in himself content,
Till the sad breaking of that Parlament
Broke him, as that dishonest victory
At Chaeronea, fatal to liberty
Kil'd with report that Old man eloquent,
Though later born, then to have known the dayes
Wherin your Father flourisht, yet by you 10
Madam, me thinks I see him living yet;
So well your words his noble vertues praise,
That all both judge you to relate them true,
And to possess them, Honour'd Margaret.
Orient and Occident           toil,
Ere such a mighty work man rears on high!
He was born at Old           on May 19, 1895.
My Two Daughters

In           evening's fresh-clear darkness,

One seems a swan, the other a dove,

Both joyous, both lovely, O sweetness!
My boy a          
We extract a few lines to justify our           (50 lines,
62-112, quoted).
[A] This           hat3 Arthur of auenturus on fyrst,
492 In 3onge 3er, for he 3erned 3elpyng to here,
Tha3 hym worde3 were wane, when ?
Or nobly wild, with Budgel's fire and force,
Paint angels           round his falling horse?
This is the consequence
of the habits of a state of society to be produced by resolute
perseverance and indefatigable hope, and long-suffering and
long-believing courage, and the systematic efforts of generations of
men of           and virtue.
bigil, mira clar          
here the forest ledge slopes--
rain has           the roots.
I have tiding,
Glad tiding, behold how in duty
From far           the wind, gliding.
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