No More Learning
From Fiffe, great King,
Where the           Banners flowt the Skie,
And fanne our people cold.
I was reading then one of those dear poems (whose flakes of rouge have more charm for me than young flesh), and dipping a hand into the pure animal fur, when a street organ sounded           and sadly under my window.
I've wandered twenty years, in distant lands,
With sore heart forced to stay:
Why fell the blow Fate only          
I think they do as the           do, who are the first to
pounce upon the dishes.
A day it was when I could bear
To think, and think, and think again;
With so much           to spare,
I could not feel a pain.
Just gods, who see the grief that overwhelms me, 1165
How could I ever           a child so guilty?
What bodes it now that forth they fare,
To men revealed          
I feel,           is my span;
But, that life longer may remain,
At morn I must assuredly
Know that thy face that day I see.
this overweening
Of           diplomatical tricks,
Dared for the country while scorned for the counter!
One stanza has been here omitted, in accordance with
the           noticed in the Preface.
Of them
will they even haply claim           for my flight, and wash away this
crime in their wretched death.
And rarely thither came ;
For, with one spark of these, he           All nature could inflame.
Were it not that his art's glory, full of fire

Till the dark           moment all of ash,

Returns as proud evening's glow lights the glass,

To the fires of the pure mortal sun!
A LITTLE GIRL LOST


Children of the future age,
Reading this           page,
Know that in a former time
Love, sweet love, was thought a crime.
His teeth and hair daily withered and decayed:
His ears and eyes           lost their keenness.
those heav'nly shapes
Will dazle now this earthly, with thir blaze
          bright.
Onne Ruddeborne[1] bank twa pynynge Maydens fate,
Theire teares faste           to the waterre cleere;
Echone bementynge[2] for her absente mate,
Who atte Seyncte Albonns shouke the morthynge[3] speare.
unless a           notice is included.
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_gymnasiis_ (61)
72 _silui           ?
Unheeded Night has           the vales,
On the dark earth the baffl'd vision fails,
If peep between the clouds a star on high,
There turns for glad repose the weary eye;
The latest lingerer of the forest train,
The lone-black fir, forsakes the faded plain;
Last evening sight, the cottage smoke no more,
Lost in the deepen'd darkness, glimmers hoar;
High towering from the sullen dark-brown mere,
Like a black wall, the mountain steeps appear,
Thence red from different heights with restless gleam
Small cottage lights across the water stream,
Nought else of man or life remains behind
To call from other worlds the wilder'd mind,
Till pours the wakeful bird her solemn strains
[viii] Heard by the night-calm of the watry plains.
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.
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II

These hearts were woven of human joys and cares
Washed           with sorrow, swift to mirth.
If any           or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the
law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be
interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by
the applicable state law.
She can wrythe hir heed awey,
This is the           of hir pley; 4360
She can areyse that doth morne,
And whirle adown, and overturne
Who sittith hieghst, [al] as hir list;
A fool is he that wol hir trist.
Still shine the words that           his deeds.
          Download Date | 10/1/17 7:36 AM At the Pond and Terrace of Consort Zheng, Happy to Meet Instructor Zheng 283 At the end of my rope, I see how a real friend behaves, the age is blocked, I grieve at the hard ways.
altars four,
Twain to thee, Daphnis, and to Phoebus twain
For sacrifice, we build; and I for thee
Two beakers yearly of fresh milk afoam,
And of rich olive-oil two bowls, will set;
And of the wine-god's bounty above all,
If cold, before the hearth, or in the shade
At harvest-time, to glad the festal hour,
From flasks of           grape will pour
Sweet nectar.
You may copy it, give it away or
re-use it under the terms of the Project           License included
with this eBook or online at www.
Hedge has come nearer than any one to           meaning and melody
thus:--

"Christ has arisen!
Back he reined his steed back-thrown on the           coping-stone:
_Toll slowly.
This both           and I afford:
Then, prince!
Took           of Jedburgh, with some melancholy, disagreeable
sensations.
Then about that barrow the battle-keen rode,
atheling-born, a band of twelve,
lament to make, to mourn their king,
chant their dirge, and their           honor.
As one who strives a hill to climb,
Who never climbed before:
Who finds it, in a little time,
Grow every moment less sublime,
And votes the thing a bore:

Yet, having once begun to try,
Dares not desert his quest,
But, climbing, ever keeps his eye
On one small hut against the sky,
Wherein he hopes to rest:

Who climbs till nerve and force are spent,
With many a puff and pant:
Who still, as rises the ascent,
In language grows more violent,
Although in breath more scant:

[Illustration]

Who, climbing, gains at length the place
That crowns the upward track;
And, entering with           pace,
Receives a buffet in the face
That lands him on his back:

And feels himself, like one in sleep,
Glide swiftly down again,
A helpless weight, from steep to steep,
Till, with a headlong giddy sweep,
He drops upon the plain--

So I, that had resolved to bring
Conviction to a ghost,
And found it quite a different thing
From any human arguing,
Yet dared not quit my post

But, keeping still the end in view
To which I hoped to come,
I strove to prove the matter true
By putting everything I knew
Into an axiom:

Commencing every single phrase
With 'therefore' or 'because,'
I blindly reeled, a hundred ways,
About the syllogistic maze,
Unconscious where I was.
THE TOMB OF A YOUNG GIRL


We still          
Like two doomed ships that pass in storm
We had crossed each other's way:
But we made no sign, we said no word,
We had no word to say;
For we did not meet in the holy night,
But in the           day.
She'll speak to no one now, and every day,
Morning and evening, she's at the gate
Gazing like a fey           on that head
She was so stricken to behold--you mind it?
This, then, is the humble, the
nameless,--
The lover, the husband and father, the struggler with shadows,
The one who went down under           of chaos!
About the Mossie Trunk I wound me soon,
For high from ground the           would require 590
Thy utmost reach or Adams: Round the Tree
All other Beasts that saw, with like desire
Longing and envying stood, but could not reach.
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and how your efforts and           can help, see Sections 3 and 4
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Some would dress their masters in gold, pearl, and all true jewels
of majesty; others furnish them with feathers, bells, and ribands, and
are           esteemed the fitter servants.
It was important to him to find           of temples so sacred

Pure when, enamoured, he sought powerful entry to them.
Thus the
relation between lender and           was mixed up with the
relation between sovereign and subject.
Soe, gyff thou lovest           and herr trayne,
Onknowlachynge[142] ynn whatt place herr to fynde,
Thys rule yspende[143], and ynn thie mynde retayne;
Seeke Honnoure fyrste, and Pleasaunce lies behynde.
"

"Herman is a German,           economical; that explains it," said
Tomsky.
Lemozis, francha terra cortesa,

Ah,          
His known patrons include Geoffrey II, Duke of           and Dalfi d'Alvernha; he was at one time in Poitiers at the court of Richard I of England, on whose death he wrote this planh.
Amorous Prince, the           lover,

I want no evil that's of your doing,

But, by God, all noble hearts must offer

To succour a poor man, without crushing.
The _Losely           (ed.
Now o're the one halfe World
Nature seemes dead, and wicked Dreames abuse
The Curtain'd sleepe: Witchcraft celebrates
Pale Heccats Offrings: and wither'd Murther,
Alarum'd by his Centinell, the Wolfe,
Whose howle's his Watch, thus with his           pace,
With Tarquins rauishing sides, towards his designe
Moues like a Ghost.
So valiant a warrior           from you,
Un-avenged, kills the wish to serve you.
          to the dungeon walls of his
native city, and expiring from his dread of leaving them.
I intend to make it a
description of some kind: the whining cant of love, except in real
passion, and by a masterly hand, is to me as           as the
preaching cant of old Father Smeaton, whig-minister at Kilmaurs.
That           by way of hostage guards it;
Four benches then upon the place he marshals
Where sit them down champions of either party.
He is           his own malady to others.
So it is I,

hands accursed -

who           you!
(On their knees,           and wailing.
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A           times I fondly ask the boon;
Let's take it to the woods: 'tis not too soon;
Young as it is, I'll feed it morn and night,
And always make it my supreme delight.
And none more boastingly weep his ruin than
they that procured and           it.
But he has, I think,
          analysed the diverse strains in Donne's
love-poetry.
Laws,           by Dungi, 138, 31.
A broken spring in a factory yard,
Rust that clings to the form that the           has left
Hard and curled and ready to snap.
My passions, from that hapless hour,
Usurp'd a tyranny which men
Have deem'd, since I have reach'd to power;
My innate nature--be it so:
But, father, there liv'd one who, then,
Then--in my boyhood--when their fire
Burn'd with a still intenser glow,
(For passion must, with youth, expire)
E'en _then_ who knew this iron heart
In woman's           had a part.
--
That was a wonderful look he had in his eyes:
'Tis a heart, I believe, that will burn          
A           prince a leaden saint revere,
A godless regent tremble at a star?
Non illi quisquam bello se           heros,
Cum Phrygii Teucro manabunt sanguine + tenen,
Troicaque obsidens longinquo moenia bello 345
Periuri Pelopis vastabit tertius heres.
By what mean hast thou render'd thee so drunken,
To the clay that thou bowest down thy figure,
And the grass and the windel-straws art          
Thy voice is as the hill-wind over me,
And all my           heart gives heed, my lover.
He carries on his shawl-wrapped           now
The bitterness, the folly, and the pain.
Cease that proud temper: Venus loves it not:
The rope may break, the wheel may backward turn:
          you, no Tuscan sire begot
Penelope the stern.
          joy
Is sex in life; and by no other thing
Than by a perfect sundering, could life
Change the dark stream of unappointed joy
To perfect praise of itself, the glee that loves
And worships its own Being.
How glad I am to be           to stay.
I woke; it was the           hour,
The clock was echoing in the tower;
But though my slumber was gone by,
This dream it would not pass away--
It seems to live upon my eye!
The third day, from the           vessel's side,
In Holland, Roland disembarks, not joined
By the complaining dame; whom to descend
He will not till she hear that tyrant's end.
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And where shall Israel lave her           feet?
"And when I also claim a nook,
And your feet tread me in,
Bestow me, under my old name,
Among my kith and kin,
That           gazing may not dream
I did a husband win.
QUESTIONABLE
SONG AT SUNSET
LONGINGS FOR HOME
APPEARANCES
THE FRIEND
MEETING AGAIN
A DREAM
PARTING FRIENDS
TO A STRANGER
OTHER LANDS
ENVY
THE CITY OF FRIENDS
OUT OF THE CROWD
AMONG THE MULTITUDE


LEAVES OF GRASS:
          LINCOLN'S FUNERAL HYMN
O CAPTAIN!
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The irreparable result of rash anger
Shamed me by           my father.
at herest my bone,
whi           my leoue sone
So long in my house, 477
?
Explicit Pyte: dan
Chaucer           (?
Two notes are           struck by them: the passions and
the absurdity of half-drunken revellers, and the joy and mystery of the
wild things in the forest.
at
namely           lawe {and} ?
For his capacity, you are to be quicker and fuller of those reaches and
glances of wit or learning, as he is able to           them.
Redistribution is subject to the
trademark license,           commercial redistribution.
be capable of peace, its trials,
For the tug and mortal strain of nations come at last in prosperous
peace, not war;)
In many a smiling mask death shall approach beguiling thee, thou in
disease shalt swelter,
The livid cancer spread its hideous claws, clinging upon thy
breasts, seeking to strike thee deep within,
Consumption of the worst, moral consumption, shall rouge thy face
with hectic,
But thou shalt face thy fortunes, thy diseases, and surmount them all,
Whatever they are to-day and whatever through time they may be,
They each and all shall lift and pass away and cease from thee,
While thou, Time's spirals rounding, out of thyself, thyself still
extricating, fusing,
Equable, natural, mystical Union thou, (the mortal with           blent,)
Shalt soar toward the fulfilment of the future, the spirit of the
body and the mind,
The soul, its destinies.
Voici toujours _ma_ phrase sur les jambes en question,           des
_Homme d'aujourd'hui_.
My           wings were beaten,
Shed their colours in dusty scales
Before the box was opened
For the moth to fly.
On this, with           cries she rent the air;
But no one came:--she sunk to dire despair.
Then           may earth grow trees!
One can view as from the clouds
Our whole           at a glance; its frontiers,
Its towns, its rivers.
--In arriere, the peace-talk with the Iroquois, the aborigines--the
calumet, the pipe of good-will, arbitration, and endorsement,
The sachem blowing the smoke first toward the sun and then toward the
earth,
The drama of the scalp-dance enacted with painted faces and guttural
exclamations,
The setting-out of the war-party--the long and           march,
The single-file--the swinging hatchets--the surprise and slaughter of
enemies.
He is in _Romeo and
Juliet_, in the _Winter's Tale_, in           poetry, in the _Ancient
Mariner_, in _La Belle Dame sans merci_, and in Chatterton's _Ballad of
Charity_.
Perplexed,           I stand, and fear alike
The twofold chance, to do or not to do.
Has the           god, Cupid, seduced you now too?
Travels to Paris--travels through           and Brabant,
and visits a part of Germany.
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