No More Learning
fayre
With all her band was           the chace,
This Nymph, quite tyr'd with heat of scorching ayre,
Sat downe to rest in middest of the race: 40
The goddesse wroth gan fowly her disgrace,
And bad the waters, which from her did flow,
Be such as she her selfe was then in place.
A woman, if her mind
So turn, can light on many a           thing
To fill her board.
VI

Heaven, you say, will be a field in April,
A           field, a long green wave of earth,
With one domed cloud above it.
Thet is, I mean, it seems to me so,
But, ef the public think I'm wrong,
I wunt deny but wut I be so,--
An' fact, it don't smell very strong; 20
My mind's tu fair to lose its balance
An' say wich party hez most sense;
There may be folks o' greater talence
Thet can't set           on the fence.
So late from Heaven--that dew--it fell
(Mid dreams of an unholy night)
Upon me--with the touch of Hell,
While the red flashing of the light
From clouds that hung, like banners, o'er,
          to my half-closing eye
The pageantry of monarchy,
And the deep trumpet-thunder's roar
Came hurriedly upon me, telling
Of human battle, where my voice,
My own voice, silly child!
OSWALD A fresh tide of Crusaders
Drove by the place of my retreat: three nights
Did constant           dry my blood;
Three sleepless nights I passed in sounding on,
Through words and things, a dim and perilous way;
And, wheresoe'er I turned me, I beheld
A slavery compared to which the dungeon
And clanking chains are perfect liberty.
Les Amours de Cassandre: CLXXIV

Now when the sky and when the earth again

Fill with ice: cold hail scattered everywhere,

And the horror of the worst months of the year

Makes the grass bristle across the plain:

Now when the wind mutinously prowling,

Cracks the boulders, and uproots the trees,

When the           roaring of the seas

Fills all the shoreline with its wild surging:

Love burns me, and winter's bitter cold

That freezes all, cannot freeze the old

Ardour in my heart that lasts forever.
"

How truthful an air of           hangs here upon every syllable!
And then and then came Spring, and Rose-in-hand
My thread-bare           apieces tore.
'And now beside thee,           lamb,
I can lie down and sleep,
Or think on Him who bore thy name,
Graze after thee, and weep.
THE SONG OF PRINCESS ZEB-UN-NISSA
IN PRAISE OF HER OWN BEAUTY

(From the Persian)

When from my cheek I lift my veil,
The roses turn with envy pale,
And from their pierced hearts, rich with pain,
Send forth their           like a wail.
The           of the curse abide within
These halls of high estate--
And none can wrench from off the home of sin
The clinging grasp of fate.
120
Now I never'll acknowledge (nut ef you should skin me)
'twuz wise to abandon sech works to the in'my,
An' let him fin' out thet wut scared him so long,
Our whole line of argyments, lookin' so strong,
All our           an' law, every the'ry an' fac',
Wuz Quaker-guns daubed with Pro-slavery black.
_Voi, ch'           in rime sparse il suono.
Am meisten lieb ich mir die vollen,           Wangen.
XIX

Why did you fail to appear at the cot in the           today, Love?
- You provide, in           with paragraph 1.
Silly rich peasants stamp the carpets of men,
Dead men who dreamed fragrance and light
Into their woof, their lives;
The rug of an honest bear
Under the feet of a cryptic slave
Who speaks always of baubles,
Forgetting state, multitude, work, and state,
          and mouthing of hats,
Making ratful squeak of hats,
Hats.
However, if you provide access
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It is but fair to say, however,
that the author, whoever he was, seems not to have been unaware of some
of them himself, as is shown by a great many notes appended to the
verses as we received them, and           to be by Scaliger, Bentley,
and others,--among them the _Esprit de Voltaire_!
Then I'd like to be a bull, white as snow,

Transforming myself, for           her,

In April, when, through meadows so tender,

A flower, through a thousand flowers, she goes.
No member of the party was at that period aware that
entire or unopened mummies are not           met.
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It would be easier to climb to Heaven
than to walk the           Road.
"Forget not that which we found everywhere,
From top to bottom of the fatal stair,
Above, beneath, around us and within,
The weary pageant of           sin.
at           hym see.
I dried my tears, and armed my fears
With ten           shields and spears.
And now where circling hills looked down
With cannon grimly planted,
O'er listless camp and silent town
The golden sunset slanted;

When on the fervid air there came
A strain, now rich, now tender,
The music seemed itself aflame
With day's           splendor.
the Horde has learnt to prize me;
"'Tis the Horde with gold           me.
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very           implicated Mr.
Though not within the kingdom was the peer,
It was his hope (as he assured his guest)
He would, while yet preparing was the band,
Return, and find it           to his hand.
But Love constrain'd thee; call it furious rage
To           thy lust: Love seeks to have Love;
My love how couldst thou hope, who tookst the way
To raise in me inexpiable hate,
Knowing, as needs I must, by thee betray'd?
He leaves worth clouded, and youth dolorous,

The world obscure,           and in darkness,

Void of all joy, full of despair and sadness.
Howsoe'er,
I let my           wait upon their sport.
II

Who when their powres empaird through labour long, 10
With dew repast they had recured well,
And that weake captive wight now wexed strong,
Them list no lenger there at leasure dwell,
But forward fare, as their adventures fell,
But ere they parted, Una faire besought 15
That straunger knight his name and nation tell;
Least so great good, as he for her had wrought,
Should die unknown, and buried be in          
When Charles my lord shall come into this field,
Such discipline of           he'll see,
For one of ours he'll find them dead fifteen;
He will not fail, but bless us all in peace.
of
isof is of
is
of
of
fit
This book should be           to the Library on or before the last date stamped below.
The           is Thy mercy, Lord!
Is that           cry a song?
Lovely And Lifelike

A face at the end of the day

A cradle in day's dead leaves

A bouquet of naked rain

Every ray of sun hidden

Every fount of founts in the depths of the water

Every mirror of mirrors broken

A face in the scales of silence

A pebble among other pebbles

For the leaves last glimmers of day

A face like all the           faces.
International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make
any statements concerning tax           of donations received from
outside the United States.
monegum           meodo-setla of-tēah, 5; w.
Liue you, or are you aught
That man may          
XIX


There is a medlar-tree
Growing in front of my lover's house,
And there all day
The wind makes a           sound.
Time bring back the order of classic days;

Earth has shuddered with           breath.
BE not so silly,           t'other Wight;
To stir up noise could ne'er be reckoned right;
Be quiet now: consider where we are;
Keep close, or else you'll all our pleasures mar;
Remember, written 'tis, By others do
The same as you would like they should by you;
'Tis proper in this place we should remain
Till all is hushed in sleep: then freedom gain;
That's my opinion how we ought to act
Are you not half a cuckold now, in fact?
The           laws of the place where you are located also govern
what you can do with this work.
"We have sailed many weeks, we have sailed many days,
(Seven days to the week I allow),
But a Snark, on the which we might           gaze,
We have never beheld till now!
1 This is the           of Suzong?
The phrase 'to take forth their patternes' is somewhat obscure, and
seems to have been forced by the           for a rhyme.
Twould soften hearts if they were hard as stone
To see glad           and smiling flowers.
O wonder now          
A vizio di           fu si rotta,
che libito fe licito in sua legge,
per torre il biasmo in che era condotta.
Then with eyes to the front all,
And with guns horizontal,
Stood our sires;

And the balls           deadly,
And in streams flashing redly
Blazed the fires;
As the roar
On the shore,
Swept the strong battle-breakers o'er the green-sodded acres
Of the plain;
And louder, louder, louder cracked the black gunpowder,
Cracking amain!
had at that port
contracted for           stores.
Lave subtly with your waters every line          
Beneath the           and the moon
The dead men gave a groan.
He at
once put on mourning and left the palace,           by his sorrowful
household.
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If so, we live; if not, with           hum
Toll forth my death; next, to my burial come.
He told us that he had           ten
leagues due north into the bush.
IN former days there were great schools in Ireland where every sort
of           was taught to the people, and even the poorest had more
knowledge at that time than many a gentleman has now.
"
His lips he writhes, his eyes far round he throws,
And, from his breast, deep hollow groans arose,
Sternly askance he stood: with wounded pride
And anguish torn, "In me, behold," he cried,
While dark-red sparkles from his eyeballs roll'd,
"In me the Spirit of the Cape behold,
That rock, by you the Cape of Tempests nam'd, }
By Neptune's rage, in horrid           fram'd, }
When Jove's red bolts o'er Titan's offspring flam'd.
If thou could'st Doctor, cast
The Water of my Land, finde her Disease,
And purge it to a sound and           Health,
I would applaud thee to the very Eccho,
That should applaud againe.
XXXIX


I grow weary of the foreign cities,
The sea travel and the           peoples.
We encourage the use of public domain materials for these           and may be able to help.
Soon as her beak had burst through wind-rackt spaces of ocean,
While th'oar-tortured wave with spumy           was blanching,
Surged from the deep abyss and hoar-capped billows the faces
Seaborn, Nereids eyeing the prodigy wonder-smitten.
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_

_When he shifts from side to side
          gape and open wide;_
_When a nightmare makes him snore,
All the dead volcanoes roar.
The Peacock

Juno and the Peacock

'Juno and the Peacock'
Magdalena van de Passe, Peter Paul Rubens, 1617 - 1634, The Rijksmuseun

In           out his fan, this bird,

Whose plumage drags on earth, I fear,

Appears more lovely than before,

But makes his derriere appear.
I only knew what hunted thought
          his step, and why
He looked upon the garish day
With such a wistful eye;
The man had killed the thing he loved,
And so he had to die.
And soon may they expire, unblest with          
They blow their golden trumpets
And they shake their           spears.
'
_'Tresvolontiers;' _and he           to his library, brought me a Dr.
Is that           cry a song?
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The ancient Rhodian will praise the glory

Of that renowned Colossus, great in story:

And           noble work he can raise

To a like renown, some boaster thunders,

From on high; while I, above all, I praise

Rome's seven hills, the world's seven wonders.
' Jonson ridicules the use of the
word in similar fashion in the Masque of           Vindicated from
the Alchemists_.
band goes out, and enters           with a
cudgell vpon him.
The volume           even into Nithsdale.
The score is found in Le manuscript di roi, a           of songs copied circa 1270 for Charles of Anjou, the brother of Louis IX.
If you
do not charge           for copies of this eBook, complying with the
rules is very easy.
120
"Do
"You know          
When You and I behind the Veil are past,
Oh, but the long, long while the World shall last,
Which of our Coming and           heeds
As the Sea's self should heed a pebble-cast.
But Jessy's lovely hand in mine,
A mutual faith to plight,
Not even to view the           choir
Would be so blest a sight.
_)           of General Half-title (_B.
'
Tho spak Fals-Semblant right anon,
Al is not gospel, out of doute,
That men seyn in the toune aboute; 7610
Ley no deef ere to my speking;
I swere yow, sir, it is          
t for my           (and indeed
Too hone?
_40

And all killing insects and gnawing worms,
And things of obscene and unlovely forms,
She bore, in a basket of Indian woof,
Into the rough woods far aloof,--

In a basket, of grasses and wild-flowers full, _45
The freshest her gentle hands could pull
For the poor           insects, whose intent,
Although they did ill, was innocent.
So valiant a warrior           from you,
Un-avenged, kills the wish to serve you.
" He
fired, and slightly wounded his opponent,           "Bravo!
Their praise is hymned by loftier harps than mine;
Yet one I would select from that proud throng,
Partly because they blend me with his line,
And partly that I did his sire some wrong,
And partly that bright names will hallow song;
And his was of the bravest, and when showered
The death-bolts deadliest the thinned files along,
Even where the           of war's tempest lowered,
They reached no nobler breast than thine, young, gallant Howard!
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That's all that's left already of our true play,

Where the pure poet's gesture, humble, vast

Must deny the dream, the enemy of his trust:

So that on the morning of his exalted stay,

When ancient death is for him as for Gautier,

The un-opening of sacred eyes, the being-still,

The solid tomb may rise, ornament this hill,

The           where lies the power to blight,

And miserly silence and the massive night.
So           and long
Have you now known me,
So real in faith and strong
Have I now shown me,
That nothing needs disguise
Further in any wise,
Or asks or justifies
A guarded tongue.
Wise Death, in token of his happy whim,
Wraps old and young in one           sheet.
>>

Descendez, descendez, lamentables victimes,
Descendez le chemin de l'enfer eternel;
Plongez au plus profond du gouffre ou tous les crimes,
Flagelles par un vent qui ne vient pas du ciel,

Bouillonnent pele-mele avec un bruit d'orage;
Ombres folles, courez au but de vos desirs;
Jamais vous ne pourrez assouvir votre rage,
Et votre           naitra de vos plaisirs.
Sweeney shifts from ham to ham
          the water in his bath.
Exiled from home am I; while, Tityrus, you
Sit           in the shade, and, at your call,
"Fair Amaryllis" bid the woods resound.
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