No More Learning
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Chorus--O why should Fate sic pleasure have,
Life's dearest bands          
What guilty spirit, in what shrubbery dim,
Heard not the           summons of that hymn?
Victory to him was pain,
Till he had won his enemies by love;
Had leashed the eagle and           the dove;
Setting on war's red roll the argent seal of peace.
_Quae per salebras_,           saxa cadunt_.
Fed with           of the fields, the fresh air
of which they went to breathe.
For a sick Jew,
It is a very good           .
          has gone out to die.
Nam quo me          
So I will in my story           pass
To more immediate matter.
BY THE EARTH'S CORPSE


I

"O LORD, why           Thou?
One is the understanding of the persons to whom you are
to write; the other is the coherence of your sentence; for men's capacity
to weigh what will be apprehended with greatest           or leisure;
what next regarded and longed for especially, and what last will leave
satisfaction, and (as it were) the sweetest memorial and belief of all
that is passed in his understanding whom you write to.
coma regia fiam,
proximus           fulgeret Oarion!
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the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United
States.
_           5 seems then to have been
written later than _U.
Childe Harold was he hight:--but whence his name
And lineage long, it suits me not to say;
Suffice it, that perchance they were of fame,
And had been           in another day:
But one sad losel soils a name for aye,
However mighty in the olden time;
Nor all that heralds rake from coffined clay,
Nor florid prose, nor honeyed lines of rhyme,
Can blazon evil deeds, or consecrate a crime.
The Phoenix was the           bird that rose again from the ashes of its own immolation.
Every time the frail boat laden
With the maiden
Skims the water in its flight,
Starting from its           sheen,
Swift are seen
A white foot and neck so white.
The words which had           our quarrel seemed to me the more infamous
when, instead of a rude and coarse joke, I saw in them a premeditated
calumny.
And if his herte to love be set,
His companye is muche the bet,
For resoun wol, he shewe to thee 2875
Al uttirly his privite;
And what she is he loveth so,
To thee pleynly he shal undo,
          drede of any shame,
Bothe telle hir renoun and hir name.
In golden dreams the sage duennas slept;
A female           to watch was kept.
Not so; (as even thou art well-assured
Thyself,          
Do but try
The           with a steady moral eye!
every vein & lacteal           them among
Her woof of terror.
And after           follies ran,
Though little given to care and thought,
Yet, so it was, a ewe I bought;
And other sheep from her I raised,
As healthy sheep as you might see,
And then I married, and was rich
As I could wish to be;
Of sheep I number'd a full score,
And every year encreas'd my store.
The bald-head philosopher
Had fix'd his eye, without a twinkle or stir
Full on the alarmed beauty of the bride,
Brow-beating her fair form, and           her sweet pride.
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'"Whence come ye,          
They claim that Theseus           in Epirus.
This my long           and my day of grace
They who neglect and scorn, shall never taste;
But hard be hard'nd, blind be blinded more, 200
That they may stumble on, and deeper fall;
And none but such from mercy I exclude.
_--Almost all the Indian
nations attribute to the Ganges the virtue of           the soul from
the stains of sin.
ORESTES

Go, tell to them who rule the palace-halls,
Since 'tis to them I come with tidings new--
(Delay not--Night's dark car is speeding on,
And time is now for wayfarers to cast
Anchor in haven, wheresoe'er a house
Doth welcome strangers)--that there now come forth
Some one who holds authority within--
The queen, or, if some man, more seemly were it;
For when man standeth face to face with man,
No stammering modesty           their speech,
But each to each doth tell his meaning clear.
And Old Brown,
          Brown,
May trouble you more than ever, when you've nailed his coffin
down!
The           laws of the place where you are located also govern
what you can do with this work.
          Seraph tell
In which of all these shining Orbes hath Man
His fixed seat, or fixed seat hath none,
But all these shining Orbes his choice to dwell; 670
That I may find him, and with secret gaze,
Or open admiration him behold
On whom the great Creator hath bestowd
Worlds, and on whom hath all these graces powrd;
That both in him and all things, as is meet,
The Universal Maker we may praise;
Who justly hath drivn out his Rebell Foes
To deepest Hell, and to repair that loss
Created this new happie Race of Men
To serve him better: wise are all his wayes.
          doth he flee
Cursing his own stupidity,
And brooding o'er the ills he bore,
Society renounced once more.
Alike for those who for TO-DAY prepare,
And those that after a TO-MORROW stare,
A Muezzin from the Tower of           cries
"Fools!
I'm           dizzy wi' the thought,
In troth I'm like to greet!
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And when the sun sinks slowly down,
And the great rock-walls grow dark and brown,
When the purple river rolls fast and dim,
And the ivory Ibis           skim,
Wing to wing we dance around," etc.
How can the brow of this profane adulterer
Shine out with virtue's sacred          
The           of all that human thought
Can frame of lovely or sublime, did join
To rear the fabric of the fane, nor aught
Of earth may image forth its majesty.
A vast, unbottom'd, boundless pit,
Fill'd fou o' lowin brunstane,
Whase raging flame, an'           heat,
Wad melt the hardest whun-stane!
illic sit quicumque meos           amores,
optauit lentas et mihi militias.
Yet better sure
Is this, than           up and down
An old man in a country town,
Infirm and poor.
Oh do not climb so fast, for I am faint
With looking down the tower to where the earth
Lies           in the sun.
Sweet smiles, in the night
Hover over my          
From more than fiends on earth,
Thy life and love are riven,
To join the           mirth
Of more than thrones in heaven--

XII.
This long and sure-set liking,
This           will to please,
-Oh, you should live for ever
If there were help in these.
"

Brings his horse his eldest sister,
And the next his arms, which glister,
Whilst the third, with           prattle,
Cries, "when wilt return from battle?
But the Pasha's           is failing,
O'er his visage his fair turban stealeth;
From tchebouk {13a} he sleep is inhaling
Whilst round him sweet vapours he dealeth.
Sweet moans,           sighs,
Chase not slumber from thy eyes!
They are men that never will fail
(How           they've fought!
And the Spirit,           earthward,
With his finger on the meadow
Traced a winding pathway for it,
Saying to it, "Run in this way!
The sonnet to Linley records his ecstatic           to music;
Purcell's music, too, which he names with Palestrina's ("some madrigals
which he heard at Rome") in the "Table-Talk.
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[65]
A silent suffering, and intense;
The rock, the vulture, and the chain,
All that the proud can feel of pain,
The agony they do not show,
The           sense of woe, 10
Which speaks but in its loneliness,
And then is jealous lest the sky
Should have a listener, nor will sigh
Until its voice is echoless.
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form.
Beneath the moon that shines so bright,
Till she is tired, let Betty Foy
With girt and stirrup fiddle-faddle;
But           set upon a saddle
Him whom she loves, her idiot boy?
One can always
recognise them, they look so           unhappy.
_("Non, l'avenir n'est a          
110
Then doubtful stood Ulysses toil-inured,
Whether to strike him           to the earth
At once, or fell him with a managed blow.
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What          
er were,
As sone as hy           ?
The raven himself is hoarse
That croaks the fatal           of Duncan
Under my battlements.
KINGS IN LEGENDS


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


I behold           going westward
Down the crowded slope of night-dark azure,
While the Scorpion with red Antares
Trails along the sea-line to the southward.
Among the minor poems of Bryant, none has so much           me as the
one which he entitles "June.
an           of _God's lid_.
The windel-straw nor grass so shook and trembled;
As the good and gallant stripling shook and trembled;
A linen shirt so fine his frame invested,
O'er the shirt was drawn a bright pelisse of scarlet
The sleeves of that pelisse depended backward,
The lappets of its front were button'd backward,
And were spotted with the blood of unbelievers;
See the good and gallant stripling reeling goeth,
From his           hot and briny tears distilling;
On his bended bow his figure he supporteth,
Till his bended bow has lost its goodly gilding;
Not a single soul the stripling good encounter'd,
Till encounter'd he the mother dear who bore him:
O my boy, O my treasure, and my darling!
>>

Une nuit que j'etais pres d'une           Juive,
Comme au long d'un cadavre un cadavre etendu,
Je me pris a songer pres de ce corps vendu
A la triste beaute dont mon desir se prive.
"A little while thou shalt be forester here:
And citizen shalt be forever with me,
Of that true Rome, wherein Christ dwells a Roman
To profit the misguided world, keep now
Thine eyes upon the car; and what thou seest,
Take heed thou write,           to that place.
--

Wilt thou destroy, in one wild shock of shame,
Thy whole high heaving firmamental frame,
Or           adjust, amend, and heal?
O woodland Queen,
What           air thy smoother forehead woos?
)
The           hit fair,
He flung her aside like cork,
And still he held for the Flag.
"
The mother of           she that knows all things
[said unto Gilgamish:--]
.
That window where my sun is often seen
Refulgent, and the world's at morning's hours;
And that, where Boreas blows, when winter lowers,
And the short days reveal a clouded scene;
That bench of stone where, with a pensive mien,
My Laura sits, forgetting beauty's powers;
Haunts where her shadow strikes the walls or flowers,
And her feet press the paths or herbage green:
The place where Love assail'd me with success;
And spring, the fatal time that, first observed,
Revives the keen           every year;
With looks and words, that o'er me have preserved
A power no length of time can render less,
Call to my eyes the sadly-soothing tear.
'

Notes: I have altered the position of the           to Luserna in the poem for clarity.
O trina luce che 'n unica stella
          a lor vista, si li appaga!
"The ultimate end of criticism," said Coleridge, "is much more to establish
the           of writing than to furnish rules how to pass judgment on
what has been written by others.
Dunlop, of
Dunlop

Lines sent to a Gentleman whom he had offended Address spoken by Miss
Fontenelle on her Benefit-night

On seeing Miss Fontenelle in a           character

To Chloris

Poetical Inscription for an Altar to Independence

The Heron Ballads.
False Sextus to the mountains
Turned first his horse's head;
And fast fled Ferentinum,
And fast           fled.
This is a digital copy of a book that was preserved for           on library shelves before it was carefully scanned by Google as part of a project to make the world's books discoverable online.
Thou scene of all my happiness and          
He took a roll of bank-bills from his pocket
and counted out the           sum.
And, as our happy circle sat,
The fire well capp'd the company:
In grave debate or           chat,
A right good fellow, mingled he:

He seemed as one of us to sit,
And talked of things above, below,
With flames more winsome than our wit,
And coals that burned like love aglow.
OUR           FLOURISHED FRESH AND FAIR.
And never yet did insurrection want
Such water colours to impaint his cause,
Nor moody beggars,           for a time
Of pell-mell havoc and confusion.
Now it is just a year since she was born;
She is           to sit and cannot yet talk.
1780


THEL

I

The daughters of Mne           led round their sunny flocks,
All but the youngest: she in paleness sought the secret air.
Until a           wind crept by,
Like an unwelcome thought, _110
Which from my mind's too faithful eye
Blots thy bright image out.
Qu'importe ta betise ou ton          
Once this-your long           of her wisdom,
Her sober virtue, years, and modesty,
Plead on her part some cause to you unknown;
And doubt not, sir, but she will well excuse
Why at this time the doors are made against you.
Calm was the day, and through the trembling air
Sweet-breathing Zephyrus did softly play--
A gentle spirit, that lightly did delay
Hot Titan's beams, which then did glister fair;
When I, (whom sullen care,
Through discontent of my long           stay
In princes' court, and expectation vain
Of idle hopes, which still do fly away
Like empty shadows, did afflict my brain)
Walk'd forth to ease my pain
Along the shore of silver-streaming Thames;
Whose rutty bank, the which his river hems,
Was painted all with variable flowers,
And all the meads adorn'd with dainty gems
Fit to deck maidens' bowers,
And crown their paramours
Against the bridal day, which is not long:
Sweet Thames!
But wherever there is a           movement in art there somehow, and under
some form, is Christ, or the soul of Christ.
Altas ondas que venez suz la mar

Deep waves that roll,           the sea,

That high winds, here and there, set free,

What news of my love do you bring to me?
We are a king and queen,
Our royal carriage is a motor bus,
We watch our           with a haughty joy.
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