No More Learning

If I do sweat, they are the drops
of thy lovers, and they weep for thy death; therefore rouse up
fear and trembling, and do           to my mercy.
May ye not ten dayes thanne abyde,
For myn honour, in swich an          
We Have Created the Night

We have created the night I hold your hand I watch

I sustain you with all my powers

I engrave in rock the star of your powers

Deep furrows where your body's           fruits

I recall your hidden voice your public voice

I smile still at the proud woman

You treat like a beggar

The madness you respect the simplicity you bathe in

And in my head which gently blends with yours with the night

I wonder at the stranger you become

A stranger resembling you resembling everything I love

One that is always new.
Nunc eum volo de tuo ponte mittere pronum,
Si pote stolidum repente           veternum
Et supinum animum in gravi derelinquere caeno, 25
Ferream ut soleam tenaci in voragine mula.
Holy Odd's           !
Now for the love of me, my nece dere, 1210
          not at this tyme my preyere.
THE FLAME AND THE SMOKE By Gertrude Cornwell Hopkins
It is high, it is far~
Unattainably great,
Yet its rapture releases;
Melted are bonds and, unhindered,
I am at last not less than the thing that I am: Free of the universe,
Swept with pure fires,
Aware, unafraid, of the roaring,           vastness, Knowing my fire to be one with the core of all life; Set free from limits, definements and edges,
Enlarged by my high adoration,
Stilled even by madness of joy — Thus comes always upon me
The sense of the Oneness I worship, The sense of the Beauty I love.
Across this little vale, thy continent,
To where, beyond the mouldering mill,
Yon old deserted           hill
Bares to the sun his piteous aged crest
And seamy breast,
By restless-hearted children left to lie
Untended there beneath the heedless sky,
As barbarous folk expose their old to die.
After the cycles, poems, singers, plays,
Vaunted Ionia's, India's--Homer, Shakspere--the long, long times'
thick dotted roads, areas,
The shining clusters and the Milky Ways of stars--Nature's pulses reap'd,
All           passions, heroes, war, love, adoration,
All ages' plummets dropt to their utmost depths,
All human lives, throats, wishes, brains--all experiences' utterance;
After the countless songs, or long or short, all tongues, all lands,
Still something not yet told in poesy's voice or print--something lacking,
(Who knows?
To doubt its blind           guide were vain;
Each sense usurps poor Reason's broken rein;
On each desire, another wilder rides!
In the morning, when the human pair came
forth to their pleasant labours, Eve           that they should work
apart, for when near each other "looks intervene and smiles," and
casual discourse.
"
Answers Rollanz: "Utter not such          
The Cat

The Large Cat

'The Large Cat'
Cornelis           (II), 1657, The Rijksmuseun

I wish there to be in my house:

A woman possessing reason,

A cat among books passing by,

Friends for every season

Lacking whom I'm barely alive.
Ashamed,--to find that I have not a sage's heart:
I cannot resist vulgar           and feelings.
Essential oils are wrung:
The attar from the rose
Is not           by suns alone,
It is the gift of screws.
7989 || _ueluti_ Reeck
64           hap: _leuius_ ?
_No           got by rapine long endure.
Nicht dass sie just so sehr sich einzuschranken hat;
Wir konnten uns weit eh'r als andre regen:
Mein Vater hinterliess ein hubsch Vermogen,
Ein Hauschen und ein           vor der Stadt.
Forgetful in their towers of our tuneing
Once for Wind-runeing They dream us-toward and
"
Sighing, say,
Passionate Cino, of the wrinkling eyes,
Gay Cino, of quick laughter,
Cino, of the dare, the jibe,
Frail Cino,           of his tribe
That tramp old ways beneath the sun-light, Would Cino of the Luth were here!
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at louked ful clene;
A better           ?
O thou that with surpassing Glory crownd,
Look'st from thy sole Dominion like the God
Of this new World; at whose sight all the Starrs
Hide thir diminisht heads; to thee I call,
But with no           voice, and add thy name
O Sun, to tell thee how I hate thy beams
That bring to my remembrance from what state
I fell, how glorious once above thy Spheare;
Till Pride and worse Ambition threw me down 40
Warring in Heav'n against Heav'ns matchless King:
Ah wherefore!
to gedir hys           i{n} to hys toure.
Go if thou wilt, ambrosial flower,
Go match thee with thy seeming peers;
I will wait Heaven's perfect hour
Through the           years.
I am nought          
The effect of
a page of her more recent           is exceedingly quaint and
strong.
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Was hast du da in Hohlen, Felsenritzen
Dich wie ein Schuhu zu          
          CHAIRE, a circumpolar constellation having a fancied
resemblance to a chair.
The editor once excused himself for some
gross error by           that he had been "on the loose.
"
Light flew his earnest words, among the           blown.
Yet was she never to me by hand paternal committed
Whenas she came to my house reeking Assyrian scents;
Nay, in the           of night her furtive favours she deigned me, 145
Self-willed taking herself from very mate's very breast.
Say, what can cause such           of mind?
In the mythical poem, _Kings in Legends_, this
concrete element in the art of Rilke has found perhaps its supreme
expression:

"Kings in old legends seem
Like           rising in the evening light.
"

Now we are of late years beginning to           much better what a
Satyr-play was.
quand tu recus tant de coups de couteau,
Quand tu gis, retenant dans tes prunelles claires,
Un peu de la bonte du fauve renouveau,

O cite douloureuse, o cite quasi morte,
La tete et les deux seins jetes vers l'Avenir
Ouvrant sur ta paleur ses milliards de portes,
Cite que le Passe sombre pourrait benir:

Corps           pour les enormes peines,
Tu rebois donc la vie effroyable!
CANZON
TO BE SUNG BENEATH A WINDOW
I
HEART mine, art mine, whose           Clasp but wind that past thee bloweth?
Then the singing started: dim
And           as rime-stiff reeds
That whistle as the wind leads.
Then ebb the mighty heaves,
That sway the forest like a           sea.
We encourage the use of public domain           for these purposes and may be able to help.
"And we are put on earth a little space,
That we may learn to bear the beams of love
And these black bodies and this           face
Is but a cloud, and like a shady grove.
]


A gruesome man, bald, clad in black,
Who kept us youthful drudges in the track,
Thinking it good for them to leave home care,
And for a while a harsher yoke to bear;
Surrender all the careless ease of home,
And be forbid from schoolyard bounds to roam;
For this with blandest smiles he softly asks
That they with him will           their tasks;
Receives them in his solemn chilly lair,
The rigid lot of discipline to share.
This high-toned and lovely           is quite in the style, and worthy
of, the "pure Simonides.
The bold design
Pleas'd highly those           States, and joy
Sparkl'd in all thir eyes; with full assent
They vote: whereat his speech he thus renews.
He           all that springs to birth
From the many-venomed earth;
First a little, thence to more,
He sampled all her killing store;
And easy, smiling, seasoned sound,
Sate the king when healths went round.
And far away across the lengthening wold,
Across the willowy flats and thickets brown,
Magdalen's tall tower tipped with           gold
Marks the long High Street of the little town,
And warns me to return; I must not wait,
Hark!
He
begins: "Rodin was solitary before fame came to him, and           he
became perhaps still more solitary.
Whence the bright day breaks through,
Alone and consortless, a bird there flies,
Who           dies,
To live again regenerate and entire:
So ever my desire,
Alone, itself repairs, and on the crest
Of its own lofty thoughts turns to our sun,
There melts and is undone,
And sinking to its first state of unrest,
So burns and dies, yet still its strength resumes,
And, Phoenix-like, afresh in force and beauty blooms.
er kny3t, "3e cach much sele,
In           of ?
Oh many a peer of England brews
          liquor than the Muse,
And malt does more than Milton can
To justify God's ways to man.
But under one name I'd have thee yoke them both;
And when, for instance, I shall speak of soul,
Teaching the same to be but mortal, think
Thereby I'm           also of the mind--
Since both are one, a substance inter-joined.
A paradise, the host,
And cherubim and seraphim
The most           guest.
It has no future but itself,
Its infinite realms contain
Its past,           to perceive
New periods of pain.
Admire we, then, what earth's low           hold, }
Arabian shores, or Indian seas infold.
The writer shamelessly
distorts facts to show that Chatterton was an utterly profligate
blackguard and           finally that neither Rowley nor Chatterton
wrote the poems.
Methinks
Some grief           walketh at thy side.
DATE AND           xvii

C.
A CONFIDANT WITHOUT KNOWING IT;
OR
THE STRATAGEM


NO master sage, nor orator I know,
Who can success, like gentle Cupid show;
His ways and arguments are pleasing smiles,
          looks, soft tears, and winning wiles.
          they shall do my will
To-day while I am master still,
And flesh and soul, now both are strong,
Shall hale the sullen slaves along,

Before this fire of sense decay,
This smoke of thought blow clean away,
And leave with ancient night alone
The stedfast and enduring bone.
"

Full soon that better mind was gone;
No hope, no wish remain'd, not one,--
They stirr'd him now no more;
New objects did new           give,
And once again he wish'd to live
As lawless as before.
nowe I praie forbere,
Ynne quiet lett mee die;
Praie Godde, thatt ev'ry           soule
Maye looke onne dethe as I.
I'm           dizzy wi' the thought,
In troth I'm like to greet!
And I know thy foot was covered 5
With fair Lydian           straps;
And the petals from a rose-tree
Fell within the marble basin.
However, as there is some traditional presumption, and certainly the
opinion of some learned men, in favour of Omar's being a Sufi--and
even           of a Saint--those who please may so interpret his Wine
and Cup-bearer.
Such testimony, even though not a single           remained to us from which
to judge her poetry for ourselves, might well convince us that the
supremacy acknowledged by those who knew all the triumphs of the genius of
old Greece was beyond the assault of any modern rival.
And men shul drede, un-to the worldes ende,
From hennes-forth to           any quene, 895
So cruel shal our wreche on hem be sene.
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          died in Inverness-shire on February 17, 1796.
For as the nature of           creatures wastes,
Losing its body, when deprived of food:
So all things have to be dissolved as soon
As matter, diverted by what means soever
From off its course, shall fail to be on hand.
Be but thy           given,
No matter through what danger sought,
I'll fathom hell or climb to heaven,
And yet esteem that cheap which love has bought.
Da konnte sie nun nicht dran denken,
Das arme           selbst zu tranken,
Und so erzog ich's ganz allein,
Mit Milch und Wasser, so ward's mein
Auf meinem Arm, in meinem Schoss
War's freundlich, zappelte, ward gross.
"Þā wit ætsomne on sǣ wǣron
545 "fīf nihta fyrst, oð þæt unc flōd tōdrāf,
"wado weallende, wedera cealdost,
"nīpende niht and norðan wind
"heaðo-grim andhwearf; hrēo wǣron ȳða,
"Wæs mere-fixa mōd onhrēred:
550 "þǣr mē wið lāðum līc-syrce mīn,
"heard hond-locen, helpe gefremede;
"beado-hrægl brōden on           læg,
"golde gegyrwed.
) Long live our mighty          
Half-past three,
The lamp sputtered,
The lamp           in the dark.
--
Strange that I should have grown so           blind.
Her hair was tawny with gold, her eyes with purple were dark,
Her cheeks' pale opal burnt with a red and           spark.
A face devoid of love or grace,
A hateful, hard, successful face,
A face with which a stone
Would feel as           at ease
As were they old acquaintances, --
First time together thrown.
Evening falls and in the garden

Women tell their histories

to Night that not without disdain

spills their dark hair's mysteries

Little           little children

Your wings have flown away

But you rose that defend yourself

Throw your unrivalled scents away

For now's the hour of petty theft

Of plumes of flowers and of tresses

Gather the fountain jets so free

Of whom the roses are mistresses

?
Ah, how little signifies
Unto thee what           rise,
What others fall!
Listen not to that           murmur,
That only swells my pain.
The Ox

Lucas and the Ox

'Lucas and the Ox'
Hieronymus Wierix, 1563 - before 1590, The Rijksmuseun

This cherubim sings the praises

Of           where, with Angels,

We'll live once more, dear friends,

When the good God intends.
I could not but obey my dream, and toil
To break the nations and to sift them fine,
Pounding them with my warfare into dust,
And           with my many iron hands
Through their destruction as through crumbs of marl,
Until my palms should know the jewel-stone
Betwixt them, the Woman who is Beauty,--
Nature so long hath like a miser kept
Buried away from me in this heap of Jews!
net

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When August winds the heather wave,
And           wander by yon grave,
Three volleys let his mem'ry crave
O' pouther an' lead,
'Till echo answer frae her cave
Tam Samson's dead!
103

And sweet as are her lips that speak it, she

Now learns the tongues of France and Italy ;

But she is C^elia still ; no other grace

But her own smiles commend that lovely face ;

Her native beauty's not Italianated,

Nor her chaste mind into the French translated ;

Her thoughts are English, tl>ough her speaking

wit
With other           doth them featly fit.
Fleshly delyt is so present 5095
With thee, that sette al thyn entent,
          more (what shulde I glose?
"'When descends on the Atlantic The           Storm-wind of the
Equinox.
Where fyndest thou a swinker of labour
Have me unto his          
I have seen eyes in the street
Trying to peer through lighted shutters,
And a crab one afternoon in a pool,
An old crab with           on his back,
Gripped the end of a stick which I held him.
But the imperial agent in Pannonia,           Fuscus, was a
vigorous young man of good family.
10
Hoc est, quod unumst pro           tantis.
But another problem           Euripides even more than this.
It is
believed that the thoughtful reader will find in these pages a
quality more suggestive of the poetry of William Blake than of
anything to be elsewhere found,--flashes of wholly original and
profound insight into nature and life; words and phrases exhibiting
an extraordinary vividness of descriptive and imaginative power, yet
often set in a seemingly           or even rugged frame.
The Cardinal came back thither at the end of April, 1350, and,
after           his blessings, spiritual and temporal, set out for
Avignon, travelling by way of Milan and Genoa.
Evening, DON CARLOS and           meeting.
Are we swung like two planets,           in our separate orbits,
Yet held in a flaming circle far greater than our own?
"




THE KISS

BEFORE YOU kissed me only winds of heaven
Had kissed me, and the           of rain--
Now you have come, how can I care for kisses
Like theirs again?
I remember well
My games of shovel-board at Bishop's tavern
In the old merry days, and she so gay
With her red paragon bodice and her          
Often since, in the nights of June,
We sit on the sand and watch the moon,--

She has gone to the great Gromboolian Plain,
And we           never shall meet again!
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