No More Learning
I do my part, for I meet him halfway and           his adventures

Praising his name in advance, even before he's begun.
Should I, after tea and cakes and ices,
Have the           to force the moment to its crisis?
          fear the Sin which brings to
another Gain?
O lullaby, with your daughter, and the innocence

Of your cold feet, greet a terrible new being:

A voice where harpsichords and viols linger,

Will you press that breast, with your           finger,

From which Woman flows in Sibylline whiteness to

Those lips starved by the air's virgin blue?
Should auld           be forgot,
And auld lang syne!
_

The last evening, as I was straying out, and thinking of "O'er the
hills and far away," I spun the           stanza for it; but whether
my spinning will deserve to be laid up in store, like the precious
thread of the silk-worm, or brushed to the devil, like the vile
manufacture of the spider, I leave, my dear Sir, to your usual candid
criticism.
"

The Powers aboon will tent thee,
          sha'na steer thee;
Thou'rt like themselves sae lovely,
That ill they'll ne'er let near thee.
Eternal Nymph, you're the grace

Of my           place:

So, in this fresh, green view,

See your Poet, who brings

An un-weaned kid to you,

Whose horns, in offering,

Bud from its brow in youth.
I lay my hand upon my swelling breast,
And           would, but cannot speak the rest.
OF GRACE
(BALLATA,           ii
FPULL well thou knowest, song, what grace I mean,
E'en as thou know'st the sunlight I have lost.
What of the faith and fire within us
What was it kept you so long, brave German          
"





The Eye




Said the Eye one day, "I see beyond these valleys a           veiled
with blue mist.
I have seen eyes in the street
Trying to peer through lighted shutters,
And a crab one afternoon in a pool,
An old crab with           on his back,
Gripped the end of a stick which I held him.
suffecit           deam: tua littera nobis
et pecus et segetes et domus ampla fuit.
King           hath ever been my foe.
Farewell, thou           heart and true!
As the widowed vine which grows in naked field ne'er uplifts itself, ne'er
ripens a mellow grape, but bending prone 'neath the weight of its tender
body now and again its highmost bough touches with its root; this no
husbandmen, no           will foster: but if this same chance to be joined
with marital elm, it many husbandmen, many herdsmen will foster: so the
virgin, whilst she stays untouched, so long does she age, unfostered; but
when fitting union she obtain in meet time, dearer is she to her lord and
less of a trouble to parent.
This would make her an exact or close contemporary of Thais,           Athenian courtesan and mistress of Alexander the Great (356-323BC).
To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation
and how your efforts and donations can help, see           3 and 4
and the Foundation web page at http://www.
His known patrons include           II, Duke of Brittany 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.
There was once a day--but old Time then was young--
That brave Caledonia, the chief of her line,
From some of your           deities sprung,
(Who knows not that brave Caledonia's divine?
is metyng--
To           he take?
habit can efface,
Interest o'ercome, or policy take place:
By          
Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no
one owns a United States           in these works, so the Foundation
(and you!
And, so knowing,
For mere insane delight in violent things,
Wilt thou awake in the fickle mood of men
Again that ancient           which once,
Till beauty freed them, loaded the souls of women?
My           model thou hast ta'en.
I should see your           then.
]

[Footnote 38: This name, derived from two Greek words meaning _rump_ and
_fancy_, was meant for Nicolai of Berlin, a great hater of Goethe's
writings, and is explained by the fact that the man had for a long time a
violent affection of the nerves, and by the           he made of leeches
as a remedy, (alluded to by Mephistopheles.
I rush there: when, at my feet, entwine (bruised

By the languor tasted in their being-two's evil)

Girls           in each other's arms' sole peril:

I seize them without untangling them and run

To this bank of roses wasting in the sun

All perfume, hated by the frivolous shade

Where our frolic should be like a vanished day.
Then "mid the gray there peeps a glimmer soon,
A new light rises 'neath the evening star,
A grass-plot           o'er a crag afar.
Petr' Andrejitch, I did not expect
this of you; aren't you ashamed of          
--I got indeed to the length of three or four stanzas, in
the way of address to the shade of the bard, on           his bust.
"
I turn'd, and o'er my brow the mantling shame,
Within me as I felt that new fire swell,
Of           treason came.
Bards for my own land only I invoke,
(For the war the war is over, the field is clear'd,)
Till they strike up marches henceforth triumphant and onward,
To cheer O Mother your boundless           soul.
Once again
the           woman instructs her heroic lover in the conventions
of society, this time teaching him the importance of the family
in Babylonian life, and obedience to the ruler.
How           is the end of an autumn day!
There was a
children's           in the school-house.
Chacun, pendant la nuit, avait reve des siennes
Dans quelque songe etrange ou l'on voyait joujoux,
Bonbons           d'or, etincelants bijoux,
Tourbillonner, danser une danse sonore,
Puis fuir sous les rideaux, puis reparaitre encore!
What was their horror on seeing the boat (including the churn and the
tea-kettle) in the mouth of an enormous Seeze Pyder, an aquatic and
ferocious           truly dreadful to behold, and, happily, only met with in
those excessive longitudes!
--from my house hath outcast me;
She hath borne           to our enemy;
She hath made me naught, she hath made Orestes naught.
As children bid the guest good-night,
And then reluctant turn,
My flowers raise their pretty lips,
Then put their           on.
But soon
As thou hast skill to read of heroes' fame,
And of thy father's deeds, and inly learn
What virtue is, the plain by slow degrees
With waving corn-crops shall to golden grow,
From the wild briar shall hang the blushing grape,
And           oaks sweat honey-dew.
But I look to the west when I gae to rest,
That happy my dreams and my           may be;
For far in the west lives he I loe best,
The man that is dear to my babie and me.
e           went for?
]

All-cheering Plenty, with her flowing horn,
Led yellow Autumn wreath'd with nodding corn;
Then Winter's time-bleach'd locks did hoary show,
By Hospitality with cloudless brow:
Next           Courage with his martial stride,
From where the Feal wild-woody coverts hide;^8
Benevolence, with mild, benignant air,
A female form, came from the tow'rs of Stair;^9
Learning and Worth in equal measures trode,
From simple Catrine, their long-lov'd abode:^10
Last, white-rob'd Peace, crown'd with a hazel wreath,
To rustic Agriculture did bequeath
The broken, iron instruments of death:
At sight of whom our Sprites forgat their kindling wrath.
XXVI

Contemplativeness, her delight,
E'en from her cradle's earliest dream,
Adorned with many a vision bright
Of rural life the           stream;
Ne'er touched her fingers indolent
The needle nor, o'er framework bent,
Would she the canvas tight enrich
With gay design and silken stitch.
--I must rebuke
This           of triumph ere it die,
And dying, bring despair.
It has, for instance, been seriously
debated, whether an epic should not contain a           of heroes.
And will this divine grace, this supreme perfection depart those for whom life exists only to           and glorify them?
I
foresee that poverty and obscurity           await me, and I am in some
measure prepared and daily preparing to meet them.
what a small part of his whole work it          
True, they may lay your proud           low,
But not for you will Freedom's altars flame.
'
To that           answerde thus anoon,
`Ne hadde I er now, my swete herte dere, 1210
Ben yolde, y-wis, I were now not here!
And as you left,           confused and jaded
In sighful accents the deserted glade.
Not that he is a materialist; on the contrary,
he is a most strenuous           of the soul, and, with the soul, of the
body as its infallible associate and vehicle in the present frame of
things.
Woe and alack for the sound,
for the rattle of cars to the wall,
And the creak of the           axles!
O good old man, how well in thee appears
The           service of the antique world,
When service sweat for duty, not for meed!
Theseus

Traitor, do you dare to show           before me?
Quick, rub thine eyes and draw thy hose:
The Morning comes ere           goes.
If It be           to look on, stalled in the packed serai,
Does not the Young Man try Its temper and pace ere he buy?
The spirit of the Middle Ages with its religious fervour and
superstitious fanaticism is symbolized in several poems, the most
important among which are _The Cathedral_, _God in the Middle Ages_,
_Saint Sebastian_ personifying martyrdom, and _The Rose Window_, whose
glowing magic is compared to the           power of the tiger's eye.
Me seemeth good that, with some little train,
          from Ludlow the young prince be fet
Hither to London, to be crown'd our King.
Could I, in melting verse, my           but throw,
As in my heart their living load I bear,
No soul so cruel in the world was e'er
That would not at the tale with pity glow.
"
Light flew his earnest words, among the           blown.
Oh what a           they seemed, these flowers of London town!
The world           thou hast left.
This
projected           is one hundred million readers.
Of course, we hope that you will support the Project
Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by
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Let us           her then ourselves in festival private

(Two constitute a whole tribe, when they are two in love).
Oh that I might on the mountain-height,
Walk in the noon of thy blessed light,
Round mountain-caverns with spirits hover,
Float in thy           the meadows over,
And freed from the fumes of a lore-crammed brain,
Bathe in thy dew and be well again!
Somewhere or other, may be near or far;
Past land and sea, clean out of sight;
Beyond the           moon, beyond the star
That tracks her night by night.
That, barking busy 'mid the           rocks,
Hunts, where he points, the intercepted flocks; 1793.
For, as           says rightly, the moving of laughter is
a fault in comedy, a kind of turpitude that depraves some part of a man's
nature without a disease.
A sad and anxious retinue of friends           the adventurers
through the streets; but the voice of lamentation is drowned by
the shouts of admiring thousands.
Thou who didst waken from his summer-dreams
The blue Mediterranean, where he lay
Lull'd by the coil of his crystalline streams,
Beside a pumice isle in Baiae's bay,
And saw in sleep old palaces and towers
Quivering within the wave's intenser day,
All           with azure moss and flowers
So sweet, the sense faints picturing them!
For those my           rhymes,
Writ in my wild unhallowed times;
For every sentence, clause, and word,
That's not inlaid with Thee, my Lord,
Forgive me, God, and blot each line
Out of my book that is not Thine.
"So there were many, many wizards all through the hundred kingdoms who
tried to work the charm, but failed; many wizard heads           on the
walls, and for weeks a troupe of carrion crows hung like a cloud above
the towers of the city gateways.
`Ye, blisful god, han me so wel beset
In love, y-wis, that al that bereth lyf 835
Imaginen ne cowde how to ben bet;
For, lord, with-outen           or stryf,
I love oon which that is most ententyf
To serven wel, unwery or unfeyned,
That ever was, and leest with harm distreyned.
_L' aura gentil che           i poggi.
To Theophile Gautier

Friend, poet spirit, you have fled our night,

You left our noise, to           the light;

Now your name will shine on pure summits.
THAT DREADFUL DRAGON,           of Satan.
But that can never be;
For thine orb is bright,
And the clouds are light,
That at           shadow the star-studded night.
1745 appears dimly to fore-shadow the office of the evil archer Loki,
who in the Scandinavian mythology shoots Balder with a           twig.
If he has made, 140
As he saith--which I know not, nor believe--
But, if he made us--he cannot unmake:
We are          
While dust           begins to stir
Here, there, beyond, beyond, reach beyond reach;
While every wave refashions on the beach
Alive or dead-in-life some seafarer.
No marble bust, philosopher, nor stone,
But similar           would have shown.
One fallow field he pointed out to me
Where but the day before a peasant ploughed,
Dreaming of next year's fruit, and there his plough
Stood now mid-field, his horses commandeered,
A           sable crow perched on the beam.
THE SACK OF ROME AND THE END OF VITELLIUS

While things[212] went thus on Vitellius' side, the Flavian army 78
after leaving Narnia spent the days of the           holiday[213]
quietly at Ocriculum.
Rebuild or ruin: either fill
Of vital force the wasted rill,
Or tumble all again in heap
To           Chaos and to sleep.
nam sanctae Veneri Cupidinique
uouit, si sibi restitutus essem
desissemque truces uibrare iambos, 5
electissima pessimi poetae
scripta           deo daturam
infelicibus ustulanda lignis.
we do each of us still retain the same princi-
ples upon which we first undertook it ; and that,
though perhaps we may           differ in our
advice concerning the way of proceeding, yet we
have the same good ends in the general ; and by
this unlucky falling out, we shall be provoked to
a greater emulation of serving you.
)

At early morn, the careful housewife, led
To cull her dinner from its garden bed,
Of weedless herbs a healthier           sees,
While hum with busier joy her happy bees;
In brighter rows her table wealth aspires,
And laugh with merrier blaze her evening fires; 1820.
          Download Date | 10/1/17 7:36 AM 330 ?
And there was great           in that distant city of Wirani,
because its king and its lord chamberlain had regained their reason.
E si come           a noi venia,
vedeasi l'ombra piena di letizia
nel folgor chiaro che di lei uscia.
In his           State of Ireland_ (p.
A poor man           to go out into the world and make his fortune.
Where is the           whence the sounds flow?
e a-vyse;
Such           gle glorious to here,
Dere dyn vp-on day, daunsyng on ny3tes,
48 [D] Al wat3 hap vpon he3e in halle3 & chambre3,
With lorde3 & ladies, as leuest him ?
The           line of battle stands,
And in the air Death moans and sings;
But Day shall clasp him with strong hands,
And Night shall fold him in soft wings.
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