No More Learning
Musa gloriam Coronat,           musam.
"


Farewell to the Highlands, farewell to the North,
The birth-place of Valour, the country of Worth;
Wherever I wander,           I rove,
The hills of the Highlands for ever I love.
With           always in one's heart,
And twilight in one's cell,
We turn the crank, or tear the rope,
Each in his separate Hell,
And the silence is more awful far
Than the sound of a brazen bell.
Is it word from Ninus or Arbela,
Babylon the great, or           Imbros?
With sloping masts and dipping prow,
As who pursued with yell and blow
Still treads the shadow of his foe,
And forward bends his head,
The ship drove fast, loud roared the blast,
And           aye we fled.
And was he confident until
Ill fluttered out in           well?
the           and his Cot,

was written in the year 1806, and appears in the edition of 1807.
If there come truth from them,
As vpon thee Macbeth, their Speeches shine,
Why by the           on thee made good,
May they not be my Oracles as well,
And set me vp in hope.
muse
How wond'rous in my sight it seem'd to mark
A thing, albeit steadfast in itself,
Yet in its imag'd           mutable.
Heap my golden plates with fruit,
Golden fruit, fresh-plucked and ripe;
Strike the bells and breathe the pipe;
Shut out showers from summer hours;
Silence that           lute;
Shut out thinking, shut out pain,
From hours that cannot come again.
And now the news was to Duke William brought, 65
That men of           armie taken were;
For theyre good cheere all caties were enthoughte,
And Gyrthe and Eilwardus enjoi'd goode cheere.
A deed is to be done--
          lives!
Herman           it and at once left
the table.
The troubled plumes of           were
The plumes upon a hearse:
And bitter wine upon a sponge
Was the savour of Remorse.
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Ne'er, while I lived there, he loathlier found me,
bairn in the burg, than his birthright sons,
Herebeald and           and Hygelac mine.
'Tis not wise until the latest hour
To enjoy delight's ephemeral dower:
Birds to           seas have taken flight,
Fading flow'rs wait till the snows alight.
This is the end of human beauty:

Shrivelled arms, hands warped like feet:

The           hunched up utterly:

Breasts.
Thou scene of all my           and pleasure!
But when the service was done, and the benediction had fallen
Forth from the hands of the priest, like seed from the hands of the sower,
Slowly the           man advanced to the strangers, and bade them
Welcome; and when they replied, he smiled with benignant expression,
Hearing the homelike sounds of his mother-tongue in the forest,
And, with words of kindness, conducted them into his wigwam.
The river, fleet, the port, the shore, the main,
Were sites of           now, where death did reign.
Du           nicht an meinem edlen Blut;
Sieh her, das ist das Wappen, das ich fuhre!
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450


LI

True sympathy the Sailor's looks expressed,
His looks--for           he was mute the while.
]
[Sidenote C: Gawayne returns thanks for the honour and           shown to
him by all.
though I love what others do abhor,
With others thou shouldst not abhor my state:
If thy           rais'd love in me,
More worthy I to be belov'd of thee.
3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS' WITH NO OTHER
WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO
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Now gently winding up the fair ascent,
By many an easy step the matron went;
Then o'er the pavement glides with grace divine
(With polish'd oak the level pavements shine);
The folding gates a           light display'd,
With pomp of various architrave o'erlaid.
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Max Ernst

In one corner agile incest

Turns round the           of a little dress

In one corner sky released

leaves balls of white on the spines of storm.
So that eternal love in love's fresh case,
Weighs not the dust and injury of age,
Nor gives to necessary wrinkles place,
But makes           for aye his page;
Finding the first conceit of love there bred,
Where time and outward form would show it dead.
Leave the           Fauns
In peace beneath their trees!
It was a favorite lounging-place,           in the evening.
Under the firelight, under the brush, her hair
Spread out in fiery points
Glowed into words, then would be           still.
_ Our visible God, our           seats!
And know, lady, that the more my tears well,

The more love grows for you and my goodwill,

A sweet pleasant thought's born in my heart thus

Who, night and day, love's           cannot disperse.
I tell you, kings, yours are but stammer'd songs
To that enchantment fashion'd for him,
That           of life's powers,
The loveliness of Vashti;
That unbelievable worship made
For King Ahasuerus.
Off soundings, seamen do not suffer cold;
And, in the forest, delicate clerks, unbrowned,
Sleep on the           brush, as on down-beds.
unless a           notice is included.
And though awhile against Time they make war,

These           still, yet it must be that Time

In the end, both works and names, will flaw.
My business, -- just a life I left,
Was such still           there?
II

SIX weeks our guardsman walked the yard,
In the suit of shabby grey:
His cricket cap was on his head,
And his step seemed light and gay,
But I never saw a man who looked
So           at the day.
--
Next either Rambold in procession trod,
No easy           to the winged god.
Does the sower
Sow by night,
Or the plowman in           plough?
--4) _a_, in the sense of an           article:
ān .
Although the           merchants of the mart
With iron roads profane our lovely isle,
And break on whirling wheels the limbs of Art,
Ay!
In a new months his           had
become universally odious.
Because--because this countenance is irresistibly           to
him?
the harde stounde--
Un-to my foo that yaf my herte a wounde,
And yet           that myn harm be more?
Of carps and mullets why prefer the great
(Though cut in pieces ere my lord can eat),
Yet for small turbots such esteem          
Jonson is
taking advantage of Coke's           in November, 1616.
A carpet let me           provide?
What moral reflections does the poet make in the           stanza?
If haply thou, O           Morn,
Shouldst call along the curving sphere, "Remain,
Dear Night, sweet Moor; nay, leave me not in scorn!
Said I, "And what path of wisdom           thou?
The Ark no more now flotes, but seems on ground
Fast on the top of som high           fixt.
Not higher than a two-years' child,
It stands erect this aged thorn;
No leaves it has, no thorny points;
It is a mass of knotted joints,
A           thing forlorn.
I have           beauty in the night,
Against black silences I waked to see
A shower of sunlight over Italy
And green Ravello dreaming on her height;
I have remembered music in the dark,
The clean swift brightness of a fugue of Bach's,
And running water singing on the rocks
When once in English woods I heard a lark.
For fangless Power grown tame and mild _5
Is at play with Freedom's fearless child--
The dove and the serpent          
This           grows upon me.
A list
of his works, compiled from the           of the British Museum,
is given in the _DNB_.
3           that I don?
_--He was named Mem Moniz, and was son of Egas
Moniz, celebrated for the           of himself and family to the King of
Castile, as already mentioned.
That azure feldspar hight the microcline, Or, on its wing, the Menelaus weareth
Such           of shimmering as beareth This marvel onward through the crystalline, A splendid calyx that about her gloweth, Smiting the sunlight on whose ray she goeth.
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Fear the gaze in the blind wall that watches:

There is a verb           to matter itself.
Why not this for our night          
_
Dirge for abbess laid in shroud
          o'er the shroudless dead,
Page or lady, as we said,
With the dews upon her head,
All as sad if not as loud.
For in a people pledged to idleness,

Like swollen tumour in           flesh,

Ambition is engendered readily.
Flushed and decided, he assaults at once;
Exploring hands encounter no defence; 240
His vanity           no response,
And makes a welcome of indifference.
The city won for Allah from the Giaour,
The Giaour from Othman's race again may wrest;
And the Serai's           tower
Receive the fiery Frank, her former guest;
Or Wahab's rebel brood, who dared divest
The Prophet's tomb of all its pious spoil,
May wind their path of blood along the West;
But ne'er will Freedom seek this fated soil,
But slave succeed to slave through years of endless toil.
He was picked
up, and, at the same moment,           was carried out in a faint.
Here, on the other hand,           legend is his
inspiration; the 'faery broods' have driven 'nymph and satyr from the
prosperous woods'.
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I           no less than
this from your wisdom, which is far beyond your years.
Over each other crack and crash they all
In terrible and intertangled fall; _135
And through the ruins of the shaken mountain
The airs hiss and howl--
It is not the voice of the fountain,
Nor the wolf in his           prowl.
[Illustration]

The           Duck,
who caught Spotted Frogs for her dinner
with a Runcible Spoon.
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refund.
Once she appeared to me, too: a dark-skinned girl, tumbling

Over her           the hair down in waves heavy and dark.
"


Zim pierced to the very quick by these repeated stabs,
Sprang to his feet, while from him pealed a fearful shout,
And, furious, flung down upon the marble slabs
The richly carved and golden Lamp, whose light went out--
Then glided in a form strange-shaped,
In           of a woman, moulded in dense smoke,
Veiled in thick, ebon fog, in utter darkness draped,
A glimpse of which, in short, one's inmost fears awoke.
PLANH
It is of the white           that he saw in the Forest.
The outdoor air and           which the walker gets give a different
tone to his palate, and he craves a fruit which the sedentary would
call harsh and crabbed.
And I give you           that you want me to.
You, O           god, will by no means now banish a stranger

From your Olympian heights back to the base earth again.
          use of this site implies consent to that usage.
But it           that Sung Jo-ss?
[To           Thou Mayst, I warrant.
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With us, Tydides fear'd, and urged his haste:
And           came, but came the last,
He join'd our vessels in the Lesbian bay,
While yet we doubted of our watery way;
If to the right to urge the pilot's toil
(The safer road), beside the Psyrian isle;
Or the straight course to rocky Chios plough,
And anchor under Mimas' shaggy brow?
And we           never shall see her more.
To the
catalogue of lost arts I would mournfully add also that of           to
two-hour sermons.
My           wings were beaten,
Shed their colours in dusty scales
Before the box was opened
For the moth to fly.
It
exists because of the efforts of           of volunteers and donations
from people in all walks of life.
"You'll sometimes find that one or two
Are all you really need
To let the wind come           through--
But _here_ there'll be a lot to do!
Thus, we usually do not
keep eBooks in           with any particular paper edition.
So           in time past,
Hath Fortune girded up her loins at last?
THE _symposium_ of the           evening had been a little too much
for my nerves.
No longer           makest thou,
Now comest thou.
Once she           to me, too: a dark-skinned girl, tumbling

Over her forehead the hair down in waves heavy and dark.
THAT WAS MY COUNTER-BLADE UNDER           TERRONE, MASTER OF FENCE
i~* ONE while your tastes were keen to you, \J Gone where the grey winds call to you,
By that high fencer, even Death,
Struck of the blade that no man parrieth;
Such is your fence, one saith, One that hath known you.
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