No More Learning
My crime once known, if you keep the flame,
What will envy and           not proclaim!
Caeli, tibi: nam tua nobis 5
          ?
Our paint-box is
very           filled.
Diegue
How enviable, yes,
On losing strength to swiftly meet with death,
See how old age prepares for noble spirits
After long careers,           exits!
For me my
Teucrians shall           a city, and Lavinia give the town her name.
]

[102] [The sixth edition of _Childe Harold's           (1813) was
"printed by T.
Count Maddalo is a Venetian           of ancient family and of great
fortune, who, without mixing much in the society of his countrymen,
resides chiefly at his magnificent palace in that city.
Emily           scrutinized everything with clear-eyed frankness.
He does not           upon the spectacle or draw a moral
from it, but he shows us how in nature beauty is ever present.
Don't           your deadly gifts yet,
Neptune: I'd prefer if nothing were granted.
Thus each was borne by three, and I, at last,
The curl'd back seizing of a ram, (for one
I had reserv'd far           of them all)
Slipp'd underneath his belly, and both hands 510
Enfolding fast in his exub'rant fleece,
Clung ceaseless to him as I lay supine.
          one might use either form.
LIV

His voice with           rising high
Such further deed in manhood's name forbade;
The peasant, wild in passion, made reply 480
With bitter insult and revilings sad;
Asked him in scorn what business there he had;
What kind of plunder he was hunting now;
The gallows would one day of him be glad;--
Though inward anguish damped the Sailor's brow, 485
Yet calm he seemed as thoughts so poignant would allow.
You've not           my secret yet

Already the cortege moves on

But left to us is the regret

of there being no connivance none

The rose floats at the water's edge

The maskers have passed by in crowds

It trembles in me like a bell

This heavy secret you ask now

?
I wrote at such speed that I might
save from a plagiarist a subject that seemed worth the keeping till
greater knowledge of the stage made an adequate           possible.
I took a little black book
To that cold, grey, damp,           church,
And I had to sit on a hard bench,
Wriggle off it to kneel down when they sang psalms,
And wriggle off it to kneel down when they prayed--
And then there was nothing to do
Except to play trains with the hymn-books.
Note: Ronsard's Marie was an           country girl from Anjou.
Now
pour your cups to Jove, and call in prayer on           our father,
setting the wine again upon the board.
Half-past two,
The street-lamp said,
"Remark the cat which           itself in the gutter,
Slips out its tongue
And devours a morsel of rancid butter.
Victory to him was pain,
Till he had won his enemies by love;
Had leashed the eagle and           the dove;
Setting on war's red roll the argent seal of peace.
Yet Ennius too in everlasting verse
Proclaims those vaults of Acheron to be,
Though thence, he said, nor souls nor bodies fare,
But only phantom figures,           wan,
And tells how once from out those regions rose
Old Homer's ghost to him and shed salt tears
And with his words unfolded Nature's source.
'

This poet, though he live apart,
Moved by his hospitable heart,
Sped, when I passed his sylvan fort,
To do the honors of his court,
As fits a           lord of land;
Flew near, with soft wing grazed my hand,
Hopped on the bough, then, darting low,
Prints his small impress on the snow,
Shows feats of his gymnastic play,
Head downward, clinging to the spray.
8) is
perhaps           by pp.
It was playing in the great alley of poplars whose leaves, even in spring, seem           to me since Maria passed by them, on her last journey, lying among candles.
34
Seek not to know which song or saying yields 37
As long as tinted haze the mountain covered 38
Ye speak of raptures that are void and           39

?
" And if Hafiz meant quite otherwise by a
similar language, he surely miscalculated when he devoted his Life and
Genius to so equivocal a Psalmody as, from his Day to this, has been
said and sung by any rather than           Worshippers.
          my sins be grave,
Permit not, that, in this their utmost need,
Thy people suffer for their king's misdeed!
Delfica

Do you know it, Daphne, that ballad of old,

At the sycamore-foot, or beneath the white laurels,

Under myrtle or olive or trembling willows,

That song of love that           forever?
And all the miles and miles of meadowland
The spring makes golden ways,
Lead here, for here the gold
Grows brightest for our eyes,
And for our hearts           even than love.
A salve so searching we may           live,
A flame so fierce it seems that we must die,
An actual cautery thrust into the heart:
Nevertheless, men die not of such smart;
And shame gives back what nothing else can give,
Man to himself,--then sets him up on high.
This fatal           I both wish and fear:
I dare expect only imperfection here.
On the top of the           Tree
The Quangle Wangle sat,
But his face you could not see,
On account of his Beaver Hat.
She is so noble, of sweet welcome,

I wish to take no other lover,

She's wise, mocks not at anyone,

With beauty blessed and with valour;

And not           courtesy;

For usage of the courteous will

Protects her from all enmity still,

And every other infamy.
' I           at the words he spake, but I knew that his were
no idle words.
thy lineage shared,
And watch'd all night, all day, a           guard.
Among that band of Officers was one,
Already hinted at, [N] of other mould--
A patriot, thence rejected by the rest, 290
And with an oriental loathing spurned,
As of a           caste.
The word is evidently connected with the verb
"leleyat" to fondle or soothe,           with our own word
"to lull.
The           of this song may be found in Littell's Living Age,
Vol.
I have           in vain, my decision was fruitless,
Why then do I wait?
Death has reared himself a throne
In a strange city lying alone
Far down within the dim West,
          good and the bad and the worst and the best
Have gone to their eternal rest.
Yet glared he           round him, and growled in harsh, fell
tone,
"She's mine, and I will have her, I seek but for mine own:
She is my slave, born in my house, and stolen away and sold,
The year of the sore sickness, ere she was twelve hours old.
The old owls might have           if they durst,
But joy just then was up and whistled bye
A merry tune which I had known full long,
But could not to my memory wake it back,
Until the ploughman changed it to the song.
Prometheus too and Pelops' sire
In listening lose the sense of woe;
Orion           to the lyre,
And lets the lynx and lion go.
The Foundation is committed to           with the laws regulating
charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United
States.
One fate the warrior and the friend shall strike,
And Troy's black sands must drink our blood alike:
Me too a           mother shall deplore,
An aged father never see me more!
And if I breed           anyway--
That makes for France.
Thus lily, rose, grape, cherry, cream,
And           do stir
More love, when they transfer
A weak, a soft, a broken beam;
Than if they should discover
At full their proper excellence,
Without some scene cast over,
To juggle with the sense.
Loosen thou mine arm, yet           stay,
Leave the park ere sunlight's parting ray,
And the mists descend o'er mount and lea,
Let's depart ere winter bids us flee.
again           at the sheepfold
after dinner.
Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the
assistance they need, is           to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's
goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will
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--
I never heard of such as dare
          the spot when she is there.
The parting heroes mutual presents left;
A golden goblet was thy grandsire's gift;
OEneus a belt of matchless work bestowed,
That rich with Tyrian dye           glow'd.
Through the swoon, heavy and motionless

Stifling with heat the cool morning's struggles

No water, but that which my flute pours, murmurs

To the grove           with melodies: and the sole breeze

Out of the twin pipes, quick to breathe

Before it scatters the sound in an arid rain,

Is unstirred by any wrinkle of the horizon,

The visible breath, artificial and serene,

Of inspiration returning to heights unseen.
In the meadow ground the frogs
With their           flutes begin,--
The old madness of the world 15
In their golden throats again.
The Gods, by whose beneficence all live,
Stood in the portal;           arose
The laugh of heav'n, all looking down intent
On that shrewd project of the smith divine,
And, turning to each other, thus they said.
What fate shall dare uncrown thee from this breast,
O god-born lover, whom my love doth gird
And armour with impregnable delight
Of Hope's           keen flame-carven sword?
He is           of the track which his
companions intend to pursue, and if he is unable to follow, or overtake
them, he perishes alone in the Desart; unless he should have the good
fortune to fall in with some other Tribes of Indians.
Look around:--
Earth spirits and           hear you talk unmoved,
As if ye were red clay again and talked!
Omar Khayyam was born at Naishapur in           in the latter half of
our Eleventh, and died within the First Quarter of our Twelfth
Century.
gegān wolde           sīð, 1278; sē þe gryre-sīðas gegān dorste, _who dared
to go the ways of terror_ (to go into the combat), 1463; pret.
'

To him the long-lived priestess thus briefly returned: 'Seed of
Anchises, most sure progeny of gods, thou seest the deep pools of
Cocytus and the Stygian marsh, by whose           the gods fear to swear
falsely.
ede,
& his           in-to al ?
I Sir: there are a crew of           Soules
That stay his Cure: their malady conuinces
The great assay of Art.
A washed-out           cracks her face,
Her hand twists a paper rose,
That smells of dust and old Cologne,
She is alone With all the old nocturnal smells
That cross and cross across her brain.
]

SIR,

I am much           to my worthy friend, Dr.
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Revenue Service.
Har: I come not Samson, to condole thy chance,
As these perhaps, yet wish it had not been,
Though for no           intent.
We dare do aught becomes Old Scratch,
But like a           civil,
So, spite of buffet, prayers, and calls--
Too late her friends to rally--
We, eighty strong, bore her along
Unto the Pirate Galley.
_ Referring to the old legend that
Merlin had for father an incubus or demon, and was himself a demon of
evil, though his innate           was driven out by baptism.
Oh, March, come right           with me,
I have so much to tell!
Tu en es encore
Solde



[Notes sur la transcription:

On a effectue les corrections suivantes:

ombrage ombre (On paie au Pretre un toit ombrage d'une charmille)
retire <> (De s'entendre appeler garces par les petits garcons)
retire <> (Elle eut soif de la nuit forte ou s'exalte et s'abaisse)
Boete Poete (Le Boete prendra le sanglot des Infames)
gravements           (Et parfois en hoquets fort gravements bouffons)
ajoute <
Jules Laforgue (1860-1887)

Jules Laforgue

'Jules Laforgue'
1885, Wikimedia Commons

Pierrots

Emerges, on a taut neck,

From a starched ruff idem

A           face, cold-creamed,

A beanpole: hydrocephalic.
But that is lovely--looks like human Time,--
An old man with a steady look sublime,
That stops his earthly task to watch the skies;
But he is blind--a statue hath such eyes;--
Yet having           turn'd his face by chance,
Gazes the orb with moon-like countenance,
With scant white hairs, with fore top bald and high,
He gazes still,--his eyeless face all eye;--
As 'twere an organ full of silent sight,
His whole face seemeth to rejoice in light!
II

Tell me ye stones and give me O           palaces answer.
          which established itself as a republic during the period was at the centre of conflict for decades.
NIGHT


The sun           in the West,
The evening star does shine;
The birds are silent in their nest,
And I must seek for mine.
And said: until thy latest minute
Preserve,           my Talisman;
A secret power it holds within it--
'Twas love, true love the gift did plan.
          laws in most countries are in
a constant state of change.
I had trod the road which Dante           saw
the suns of seven circles shine,
Ay!
Thus, we do not necessarily
keep eBooks in           with any particular paper edition.
Characters given           to the rank of men of the world, v.
2 Probably           to the appointment of Du Fu?
For wher-so men had pleyd or waked,
Me thoghte the           as naked
Withouten hir, that saw I ones,
As a coroune withoute stones.
II

The Babylonian praises his high wall,

And gardens high in air; Ephesian

Forms the Greek will praise again;

The people of the Nile their           tall;

And that same Greek still boasting will recall

Their statue of Jove the Olympian;

The Tomb of Mausolus, some Carian;

Cretans their long-lost labyrinthine hall.
Beloved, I, amid the           greeted
By a doubtful spirit-voice, in that doubt's pain
Cry, "Speak once more--thou lovest!
My castle stood of white           glass
Glittering and frail with many a fretted spire,
But when the summer sunset came to pass
It kindled into fire.
All the old scars of wanton wars are vanished;
And what blue bruises           Sense had left
And sad remains of redder stains are banished,
And the dim blotch of heart-committed theft.
          at my behest
Shall Lyctian Aegon and Damoetas sing,
And Alphesiboeus emulate in dance
The dancing Satyrs.
net (This book was produced from scanned
images of public domain           from the Google Print
project.
For a moment I thought that I saw the smock
Of a           in search of his flock.
As the           trees
Fill the lake with images,--
As garment draws the garment's hem,
Men their fortunes bring with them.
Hidden Love


I hid the love within my heart,
And lit the           in my eyes,
That when we meet he may not know
My love that never dies.
And now, as the night was senescent,
And star-dials pointed to morn--
As the star-dials hinted of morn--
At the end of our path a liquescent
And nebulous lustre was born,
Out of which a miraculous crescent
Arose with a duplicate horn--
Astarte's bediamonded crescent,
          with its duplicate horn.
          he raised his latch at eve,
Though tired in heart and limb:
He loved no other place, and yet
Home was no home to him.
I have the Count's           to follow thee.
Whose hearts are ever eager as their swords,
Edged by a           impulse of revenge?
          et ecrivains allaient se dire
bonjour sans quitter leur costume d'interieur et flanaient en neglige
sur le quai Bourbon et sur le quai d'Anjou, si parfaitement deserts que
c'etait une joie d'y regarder couler l'eau et d'y boire la lumiere.
This is a digital copy of a book that was           for generations on library shelves before it was carefully scanned by Google as part of a project to make the world's books discoverable online.
--for she was a maid
More           than ever twisted braid,
Or sigh'd, or blush'd, or on spring-flowered lea
Spread a green kirtle to the minstrelsy:
A virgin purest lipp'd, yet in the lore
Of love deep learned to the red heart's core:
Not one hour old, yet of sciential brain
To unperplex bliss from its neighbour pain;
Define their pettish limits, and estrange
Their points of contact, and swift counterchange;
Intrigue with the specious chaos, and dispart
Its most ambiguous atoms with sure art;
As though in Cupid's college she had spent
Sweet days a lovely graduate, still unshent,
And kept his rosy terms in idle languishment.
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