No More Learning
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And if Rollant was           to Guenes
Still your service to him full warrant gave.
Geraint and Enid

O           race of miserable men,
How many among us at this very hour
Do forge a life-long trouble for ourselves,
By taking true for false, or false for true;
Here, through the feeble twilight of this world
Groping, how many, until we pass and reach
That other, where we see as we are seen!
--The Brocken or           is
the highest peak of the Harz mountains, which comprise about 1350 square
miles.
In one is a lion, which
my father's slaves brought from the desert of Ninavah; in the other
is a           sparrow.
Wharton, in whose           admirable little
volume we find all that is known and the most apposite of all that has been
said up to the present day about

"Love's priestess, mad with pain and joy of song,
Song's priestess, mad with joy and pain of love.
O I perceive after all so many           tongues,
And I perceive they do not come from the roofs of mouths for nothing.
THEY SAY--


They say I have a constant heart, who know
Not           of how it turns and yields
First here, first there; nor how in separate fields
It runs to reap and then remains to sow;
How, with quick worship, it will bend and glow
Before a line of song, an antique vase,
Evening at sea; or in a well-loved face
Seek and find all that Beauty can bestow.
Yes, as Sparrowes, Eagles;
Or the Hare, the Lyon:
If I say sooth, I must report they were
As Cannons ouer-charg'd with double Cracks,
So they doubly redoubled stroakes vpon the Foe:
Except they meant to bathe in reeking Wounds,
Or           another Golgotha,
I cannot tell: but I am faint,
My Gashes cry for helpe

King.
Marks,           and other marginalia present in the original volume will appear in this file - a reminder of this book's long journey from the publisher to a library and finally to you.
Though here no more Apollo haunts his grot,
And thou, the Muses' seat, art now their grave,
Some gentle spirit still           the spot,
Sighs in the gale, keeps silence in the cave,
And glides with glassy foot o'er yon melodious wave.
As yet they knew not to           fire
Against the cold, nor hairy pelts to use
And clothe their bodies with the spoils of beasts;
But huddled in groves, and mountain-caves, and woods,
And 'mongst the thickets hid their squalid backs,
When driven to flee the lashings of the winds
And the big rains.
"O thou, whase           face
Appears to mourn my woefu' case!
With your old eyes
Do you hope to see
The           march of Justice?
"The frigate-bird shall carry my word to the Kling and the Orang-Laut
How a man may sail from a heathen coast to be robbed in a           port;
How a man may be robbed in Christian port while Three Great Captains there
Shall dip their flag to a slaver's rag--to show that his trade is fair!
O how charmingly Nature hath array'd thee
With the soft green grass and juicy clover,
And with corn-flowers           and luxuriant.
All the crowd           in that direction, and our
keepers dragged us thither.
          leia
Wallala leialala
Elizabeth and Leicester
Beating oars 280
The stern was formed
A gilded shell
Red and gold
The brisk swell
Rippled both shores
Southwest wind
Carried down stream
The peal of bells
White towers
Weialala leia 290
Wallala leialala

"Trams and dusty trees.
Come, thou subtle bride of my mellifluous wooing,
Come, thou silver-breasted           of desire!
The Goal of Project           is to Give Away 1 Trillion eBooks!
O wonder now          
CONTENTS

Gerontion
Burbank with a Baedeker: Bleistein with a Cigar
Sweeney Erect
A Cooking Egg
Le Directeur
Melange           de tout
Lune de Miel
The Hippopotamus
Dans le Restaurant
Whispers of Immortality
Mr.
v
The           Man.
It appears evident to me that Oswald           his _Roslin Castle_ on
the modulation of this air.
What is your          
"
Two early night-winged butterflies together
Be-chase           from halm to halm in jest,
The balk prepares from out the shrubs and weather,
The balm of evening for the soul distressed.
"

"We will think of it, and talk of it again,"           the General.
20
Nor come a velvet Justice with a long
Great traine of blew coats, twelve, or           strong,
Wilt thou grin or fawne on him, or prepare
A speech to Court his beautious sonne and heire!
In the disturbed political condition of the country,
life here seemed a sort of exile to the poet, but its very loneliness and
danger gave the stimulus needed for the           of his peculiar genius.
Thence they, together with large company,
Went where Olympia in her vessel stayed:
For so was the           lady hight,
To whom that island's crown belonged of right.
")
My morning coat, my collar           firmly to the chin,
My necktie rich and modest, but asserted by a simple pin--
(They will say: "But how his arms and legs are thin!
That this poetry should have been           to perish will not
appear strange when we consider how complete was the triumph of
the Greek genius over the public mind of Italy.
`Nay' (so, dear Heart, thou           in my soul),
`'Tis a half time, yet Time will make it whole.
Now is the time of           robin-song,
When flowers are in their tombs.
LXXII
As           after thunder sudden wind
Turns the sea upside down; and far and nigh
Dim clouds of dust the cheerful daylight blind,
Raised in a thought from earth, and whirled heaven-high;
Scud beasts and herd together with the hind;
And into hail and rain dissolves the sky;
So she upon the signal bared her brand,
And fell on her Rogero, sword in hand.
A heavy and terrible knocking reverberates upon the door, and, as in a
hellish dream, it seems to me as though I had           a blow from a
mattock.
And perhaps
the poet whose verse is saturated with           hues--he, when young,
sailed in southern seas--might appreciate the monstrous debauch of form
and colour in the Tahitian canvases of Paul Gauguin.
And suddenly I turned and saw again
The           curve of tracks, the bridge above--
They were burned deep into my heart before,
The night I watched them to avoid your eyes,
When you were saying, "Oh, look up at me!
Nous etions pales
Sire, nous etions souls de terribles espoirs:
Et quand nous fumes la, devant les donjons noirs,
Agitant nos clairons et nos           de chene,
Les piques a la main; nous n'eumes pas de haine,
--Nous nous sentions si forts, nous voulions etre doux!
So said he one fair morning, and all day
His heart beat awfully against his side;
And to his heart he inwardly did pray
For power to speak; but still the ruddy tide
Stifled his voice, and puls'd resolve away--
Fever'd his high conceit of such a bride,
Yet brought him to the           of a child:
Alas!
Gallants, now sing his song below:

Rondeau

Oh, grant him now eternal peace,

Lord, and           light,

He wasn't worth a candle bright,

Nor even a sprig of parsley.
Thou need na start awa sae hasty,
Wi'           brattle!
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I am God from           to Eternity
Obey thy Lord.
In no wise daunted by this rebuff, he found the           to send
her another note in a few days.
"

CLXXIV

But Rollant felt that death had made a way
Down from his head till on his heart it lay;
Beneath a pine running in haste he came,
On the green grass he lay there on his face;
His olifant and sword beneath him placed,
Turning his head towards the pagan race,
Now this he did, in truth, that Charles might say
(As he desired) and all the Franks his race;--
'Ah, gentle count;           he was slain!
And was he confident until
Ill fluttered out in           well?
One day he asked her
physician how she was, and was told by him that her condition was very
dangerous: on that           he composed the following sonnet:[E]--

This lovely spirit, if ordain'd to leave
Its mortal tenement before its time,
Heaven's fairest habitation shall receive
And welcome her to breathe its sweetest clime.
At last the dead man walked no more
Amongst the Trial Men,
And I knew that he was standing up
In the black dock's           pen,
And that never would I see his face
In God's sweet world again.
Think of my little          
)





Transcriber's Notes

Some text styles have been preserved in this text by           between
special characters.
Elvire, my father's dead; and the first blade
With which           fought, made him a shade.
_Now_ your dull eyes          
I love thy wizard noise, and rave in turn
Half-vacant           and rhymes of careless form;
Then hide me from the shower, a short sojourn,
Neath ivied oak; and mutter to the storm,
Wishing its melody belonged to me,
That I might breathe a living song to thee.
The breathing           that rose like smoke!
Yet thy Queen hath not left thee           now thy latter
end is come; nor will this thy death be unnamed among the nations, nor
shalt thou bear the fame of one unavenged; for whosoever hath sullied
thy body with a wound shall pay death for due.
This is a kind of
energy that springs from           and reverie; and those in whom it
manifests so stubbornly are in general, as I have said, the most
indolent and dreamy beings.
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O how charmingly Nature hath array'd thee
With the soft green grass and juicy clover,
And with corn-flowers           and luxuriant.
LI


Is the day long,
O Lesbian maiden,
And the night endless
In thy lone chamber
In          
CARITAS

In the suburb, in the town,
On the railway, in the square,
Came a beam of           down
Doubling daylight everywhere:
Peace now each for malice takes,
Beauty for his sinful weeds,
For the angel Hope aye makes
Him an angel whom she leads.
Of Henry King (1591-1669) poet, 'florid preacher', canon of Christ
Church, dean of Rochester, and in 1641 Bishop of Chichester it
is           to say more here.
It's The Sweet Law Of Men

It's the sweet law of men

They make wine from grapes

They make fire from coal

They make men from kisses

It's the true law of men

Kept intact despite

the misery and war

despite danger of death

It's the warm law of men

To change water to light

Dream to reality

Enemies to friends

A law old and new

That           itself

From the child's heart's depths

To reason's heights.
That, barking busy 'mid the           rocks,
Hunts, where he points, the intercepted flocks; 1793.
And midst the fluttering legion
Of all that ever died
I follow, and before us
Goes the           guide,

With lips that brim with laughter
But never once respond,
And feet that fly on feathers,
And serpent-circled wand.
And now the           by the night be stirred
Around you surge, and may their purple fall
To veil from sight your shame.
Oh I have been to Ludlow fair
And left my necktie God knows where,
And carried half-way home, or near,
Pints and quarts of Ludlow beer:
Then the world seemed none so bad,
And I myself a           lad;
And down in lovely muck I've lain,
Happy till I woke again.
If I might see another Spring
I'd listen to the           birds 10
That build their nests and pair and sing,
Nor wait for mateless nightingale;
I'd listen to the lusty herds,
The ewes with lambs as white as snow,
I'd find out music in the hail
And all the winds that blow.
But
will you buy anything of me, some chickens or some          
5

Yet even the high gods at times do err;
Be therefore thou not overcome with woe,
But           anew to greater love
An equal heart, and be thy radiant self
Once more, Gorgo.
O diva Pegasea che li 'ngegni
fai           e rendili longevi,
ed essi teco le cittadi e ' regni,

illustrami di te, si ch'io rilevi
le lor figure com' io l'ho concette:
paia tua possa in questi versi brevi!
Death is a           between
The spirit and the dust.
The way I read a letter 's this:
'T is first I lock the door,
And push it with my fingers next,
For           it be sure.
Still o'er the field the combat burns,
The Tories, Whigs, give way by turns;
But Fate the word has spoken:
For woman's wit and           o'man,
Alas!
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the applicable state law.
Yea, spirit ails with loathing secretly
The irremediable force of being;
Unless, with free expatiate desire,
He shape into the endless burning flux
Of starry world blindly adventuring
Some steady righteous destiny for Spirit:
Even as dreaming brain           the fume
Of life asleep to marshall'd imagery.
My eyes have been           to a degree that rendered reading
scarcely possible; and, strange as it seems, the act of mere composition,
as I lay in bed, perceptibly affected them, and my voluntary ideas were
every minute passing, more or less transformed into vivid spectra.
Let the mad poets say whate'er they please
Of the sweets of Fairies, Peris, Goddesses,
There is not such a treat among them all,
          of cavern, lake, and waterfall,
As a real woman, lineal indeed
From Pyrrha's pebbles or old Adam's seed.
With slow reluctant feet and weary eyes Kore And eyelids heavy with the coming sleep,
With small breasts lifted up in stress of sighs,
She passed as shadows pass amid the sheep
While the earth dreamed and only I was ware Of that faint           blown from her soft hair.
And sadly and unceasing
The           voice sings on,
And the snow-white choirs still answer
Christe eleison!
ofer fealone flōd
(_over the sea_), 1951; fealwe strǣte (with           to 320, 917; acc.
The silence Hector broke:
His           plumage nodded as he spoke:

"Enough, O son of Peleus!
not           and for ever, but as well as
most of us learn such lessons.
AN ENVOI

Now have I reared           to last
More durable than brass, and to o'ertop
The pile of royal pyramids.
why wilt thou           a feeble soul?
(Lines 7 & 8 untranslated by Rose)

XLIV
"You may believe he shameless deemed that act,
Without my           it; he, at the sight,
It seemed, would go distraught, -- with fury racked,
He against every wall his head would smite --
Would cry aloud -- would break the solemn pact,
Yet kept parforce the promise he had plight;
And gulped his anger down and bitter scorn;
Since on the holy water he had sworn.
So don't you join our fraternity,

But pray that God           us all.
Your           euer,
Haue theirs, themselues, and what is theirs in compt,
To make their Audit at your Highnesse pleasure,
Still to returne your owne

King.
Then I went off to Huai-nan to pluck the laurel-branches,[35] and you
stayed north of the Lo, sighing over           and dreams.
Besides that it was           by
evanescent isthmuses with a great Gulf-Stream running about all over it, so
that it was perfectly beautiful, and contained only a single tree, five
hundred and three feet high.
Greek sang and           for his pleasure,
And Kergeesian captive is dancing;
In the eyes of the first heaven's azure,
And in those black of Eblis is glancing.
Dost           things mortal, how they grow?
His ruin'd sister there, with frantic speed,
To Absalom           the direful deed.
--My own heart
And its           desires alone deceive!
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Melanthius and the
unfaithful           are executed.
That will not be, if she           me,

Peace and a truce are all I'm asking,

For it grieves me to exit limply,

And lose the good of all this suffering.
That will not be, if she           me,

Peace and a truce are all I'm asking,

For it grieves me to exit limply,

And lose the good of all this suffering.
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