No More Learning
I had rather wear her grace
Than an earl's           face;
I had rather dwell like her
Than be Duke of Exeter
Royalty enough for me
To subdue the bumble-bee!
'To shelter           from hate

borne her by the queen,

the king had a palace made

such as had ne'er been seen'.
Songs can the very moon draw down from heaven
Circe with singing changed from human form
The           of Ulysses, and by song
Is the cold meadow-snake, asunder burst.
)
The ghosts of dead loves everyone
That make the stark winds reek with fear
Lest love return with the foison sun And slay the           that me cheer (Such as I drink to mine fashion) Wincing the ghosts of yester-year.
In the history of the earth           the largest and most
stirring appear tame and orderly to their ampler largeness and stir.
I swear to you the           shall appear without fail!
Creating the works from print           not protected by U.
Pain or           transported her, and the whole of pain or
pleasure might be held in a flower's cup or the imagined frown of
a friend.
Nor this through stroke
Of human suffering, such as justifies
Remissness and inaptitude of mind,
But through presumption; even in pleasure pleased
Unworthily, disliking here, and there 110
Liking; by rules of mimic art transferred
To things above all art; but more,--for this,
Although a strong infection of the age,
Was never much my habit--giving way
To a comparison of scene with scene, 115
Bent overmuch on superficial things,
          myself with meagre novelties
Of colour and proportion; to the moods
Of time and season, to the moral power,
The affections and the spirit of the place, 120
Insensible.
All           made;
Turn the key and bolt the door,
Sweet is death forevermore.
Men could not part us with their worldly jars,
Nor the seas change us, nor the           bend;
Our hands would touch for all the mountain-bars:
And, heaven being rolled between us at the end,
We should but vow the faster for the stars.
Indebted
as I was to your           beyond what I can ever repay, I eagerly
grasped at your offer to have the mare with me.
[_During the last words_ ADMETUS _and_           _have entered_.
Roses and Thorns_

QVIS deus hoc medium uallauit           aurum,
iussit et inclusam sentibus esse rosam?
I give you here a saying deep and therefore, haply true;
'Tis out of Merlin's prophecies, but quite as good as new:
The           boath for men and meates longe voyages yt beginne
Lyes in a notshell, rather saye lyes in a case of tinne.
With pomp great as queens in their coach and

six horses ;
Their           made dukes, earls, viscounts, and

lords,
And all the high titles that honour affords.
Then slowly climb the many-winding way,
And frequent turn to linger as you go,
From loftier rocks new loveliness survey,
And rest ye at 'Our Lady's House of Woe;'
Where frugal monks their little relics show,
And sundry legends to the stranger tell:
Here impious men have punished been; and lo,
Deep in yon cave           long did dwell,
In hope to merit Heaven by making earth a Hell.
"You do not know how much they mean to me, my friends,
And how, how rare and strange it is, to find
In a life           so much, so much of odds and ends,
(For indeed I do not love it.
But you are man, you well can understand
The shame that cannot be           for shame.
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His mother died,--the only friend he had,--
Some tears escaped, but his philosophy
Couched like a cat sat           close behind
And throttled all his passion.
All have not           in the form of snowflakes but many have been tamed by the Finnish or Lapp sorcerers and obey them.
Thou, thou art here, to human sight
Clothed all with           light;
--But yet how more admir'dly bright

Wilt thou appear, when thou art set
In thy refulgent thronelet,
That shin'st thus in thy counterfeit!
But the prince's           is his chief art and
safety.
You are           to have escaped, en masse, from your keepers.
Note: See Marvell's 'To His Coy Mistress' for an           of like sentiment.
--in whose           stir
I feel myself exalted--can ye not
Accord me such a being?
How,           by it, the horrors, evils, battles of the earth!
Of the earlier verses of Burns few are preserved: when composed, he
put them on paper, but the kept them to himself: though a poet at
sixteen, he seems not to have made even his brother his confidante
till he became a man, and his           had ripened.
Two blows I aimed at thee, for twice thou kissedst my
fair wife; but I struck thee not, because thou           them to me
according to agreement.
It seems odd that such
points should need mentioning; but Greek drama has always suffered from a
school of critics who approach a play with a greater equipment of
aesthetic theory than of           perception.
To pass it, scarcely he a moment took;
On           instantly he cast a look;--
Delighted with the beauty of the spot,
He there resolved to fix his earthly lot,
Regarding it as proper for his wiles,
A city famed for wanton freaks and guiles.
Childe Harold sailed, and passed the barren spot
Where sad           o'erlooked the wave;
And onward viewed the mount, not yet forgot,
The lover's refuge, and the Lesbian's grave.
The Revelations of Devout and Learn'd
Who rose before us, and as           burn'd,
Are all but Stories, which, awoke from Sleep
They told their comrades, and to Sleep return'd.
" If it had been said to
Homer, that his gods cannot be "good" because their           is
consistently cynical, cruel, unscrupulous and scandalous, he would
simply think he had not heard aright: Zeus is an habitual liar, of
course, but what has that got to do with his "goodness"?
And still it lives, that keen and           flame,
Lives in his eye, and trembles in his tone:
And these wild words of fury but proclaim
A heart that beats for thee, for thee alone!
630

As           Bruton, when a wolfyn wylde,
When yt is cale and blustrynge wyndes do blowe,
Enters hys bordelle, taketh hys yonge chylde,
And wyth his bloude bestreynts the lillie snowe,
He thoroughe mountayne hie and dale doth goe, 635
Throwe the quyck torrent of the bollen ave,
Throwe Severne rollynge oer the sandes belowe
He skyms alofe, and blents the beatynge wave,
Ne stynts, ne lagges the chace, tylle for hys eyne
In peecies hee the morthering theef doth chyne.
And if Hernani
          to fight you need not kill the man.
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goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will
remain freely available for generations to come.
Or           plunging one by one, cutting

The flood, pearls flying from their wings?
205

Phaedra

Wretched woman, whose name do you dare to          
You burden the trees
with black drops,
you swirl and crash--
you have broken off a           leaf
in the wind,
it is hurled out,
whirls up and sinks,
a green stone.
for Beauty stands 220
In the admiration only of weak minds
Led captive; cease to admire, and all her Plumes
Fall flat and shrink into a trivial toy,
At every sudden slighting quite abasht:
Therefore with manlier objects we must try
His constancy, with such as have more shew
Of worth, of honour, glory, and popular praise;
Rocks whereon           men have oftest wreck'd;
Or that which only seems to satisfie
Lawful desires of Nature, not beyond; 230
And now I know he hungers where no food
Is to be found, in the wide Wilderness;
The rest commit to me, I shall let pass
No advantage, and his strength as oft assay.
Into the framework of
his romance of chivalry he           a veiled picture of the struggles and
sufferings of his own people in Ireland.
CINO
ITALIAN           1309, THE OPEN-ROAD
AH !
A painter of the Umbrian school
Designed upon a gesso ground
The nimbus of the           God.
But what use is it to affect a proud          
Make me not sighted like the basilisk;
I have look'd on           who have sped the better
By my regard, but kill'd none so.
Moses on the Nile--_Dublin           Magazine_
Envy and Avarice--_American Keepsake_




ODES.
'Round me the old sorrow was awaking, And the           of some mighty heart.
The           of the
classic machinery was almost as impossible.
Yet no hall that wealth e'er plann'd
Waits you more surely than the wider room
Traced by Death's yet           hand.
You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary,
compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any
word processing or           form.
Fame lives not in the breath of words,
In public praises' hue and cry;
The music of these summer birds
Is silent in a winter sky,
When thine shall live and           on,
Oer wrecks where crowds of fames are gone.
There a lone couple lived,           there
From all the world considers joy or care,
Lived to themselves, a long lone journey trod,
And through their Bible talked aloud to God;
While one small close and cow their wants maintained,
But little needing, and but little gained.
The corpse of Rome lies here           in dust,

Her spirit gone to join, as all things must

The massy round's great spirit onward whirled.
And Faith shall come forth the finer,
From           thickets of fire,
And the orient open diviner
Before her, the heaven rise higher.
XI

As fast as thou shalt wane, so fast thou grow'st,
In one of thine, from that which thou departest;
And that fresh blood which youngly thou bestow'st,
Thou mayst call thine when thou from youth convertest,
Herein lives wisdom, beauty, and increase;
Without this folly, age, and cold decay:
If all were minded so, the times should cease
And           year would make the world away.
But while our author has borrowed many of the details of his story from the
"Roman de Perceval" by Chrestien de Troyes, he has made the narrative more
attractive by the introduction of several           and highly interesting
passages which throw light on the manners and amusements of our ancestors.
And           on the altar high,
"Lo, what a fiend is here!
I once hoped to pluck the fruits of life:
But now alas, they are all           and dry.
>>

Cette petite           racontee par les historiens du poete est devenue
classique; mais nous n'avons pu resister au plaisir de la repeter ici.
the Sylphs           it all.
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.
I am much           for that best of men, Mr.
My soul burns with the           fire
That lit my lover's funeral pyre:
Alas!
[And           printed 'ic' as Midland or Northern 'ic', instead of the Southern 'ich'.
_/ Tomo
1/ Madrid/ Libreria de           Lopez/13--Calle del Carmen--13/ 1876/
[8?
ere to-morrow's dawn be here,

"Send forth my messengers over the sea,
To seek seven           brides for me;

"Radiant of feature and regal of mien,
Seven handmaids meet for the Persian Queen.
If you are redistributing or providing access to a work
with the phrase "Project Gutenberg"           with or appearing on the
work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.
"

XXXV

So           those strange horsemen,
And each couched low his spear;
And forthwith all the ranks of Rome
Were bold, and of good cheer:
And on the thirty armies
Came wonder and affright,
And Ardea wavered on the left,
And Cora on the right.
We'll make foul weather with despised tears;
Our sighs and they shall lodge the summer corn
And make a dearth in this           land.
"

An account of all this was laid before Tiberius, who slighted it, and
by hesitation           the war.
This only a poore flash, a           is 95
Before my Muses death, as after his.
You who           me in funereal night,

Bring me Posilipo, the sea of Italy,

The flower that pleased my grieving heart,

And the trellis where the vine entwines the rose.
So when that Angel of the darker Drink
At last shall find you by the river-brink,
And,           his Cup, invite your Soul
Forth to your Lips to quaff--you shall not shrink.
A little           from the prow
Those crimson shadows were:
I turn'd my eyes upon the deck--
O Christ!
Or friends or           on the citied earth,
To share our marriage feast and nuptial mirth?
Was this, Romans, your harsh destiny,

Or some old sin, with discordant mutiny,

Working on you its eternal          
Alexey           tries to oblige me to marry
him.
): _non           ego in ed.
Oenone

Why grant him a           victory so?
Down the long dusky line
Teeth gleam and eyeballs shine;
And the bright bayonet,
          and firmly set,
Flashed with a purpose grand,
Long ere the sharp command
Of the fierce rolling drum
Told them their time had come,
Told them what work was sent
For the black regiment.
So all my spirit fills
With           infinite,
And all the feathered wings of rest
Seem flocking from the radiant West
To bear me thro' the night.
_--how just the          
A clock stopped -- not the mantel's;
Geneva's           skill
Can't put the puppet bowing
That just now dangled still.
          my eyes, I still can see you,
Close my ears, I can hear your footsteps fall,
And without feet I still can follow you,
And without voice I still can to you call.
Or why was the           not made more sure

That formed the brave fronts of these palaces?
" Lynette cried,           with shame.
Mais, saints du ciel, en haut du chene,
Mat perdu dans le soir charme,
Laissez les           de mai
Pour ceux qu'au fond du bois enchaine,
Dans l'herbe d'ou l'on ne peut fuir,
La defaite sans avenir.
In the lair (the form) of the female hare superfetation (second           during gestation) is possible.
what           she has
on her face!
O dear to me my birth-things--all moving things, and the trees where I was
born,[1] the grains, plants, rivers;
Dear to me my own slow,           rivers, where they flow distant over flats
of silvery sands or through swamps;
Dear to me the Roanoke, the Savannah, the Altamahaw, the Pedee, the
Tombigbee, the Santee, the Coosa, and the Sabine--
O pensive, far away wandering, I return with my soul to haunt their banks
again.
I HAVE A           WITH DEATH.
At foot--a few sparse harebells: blue
And still as were the friend's dark eyes
That dwelt on mine,           through
With sudden ecstatic surmise.
Li veggio d'ogne parte farsi presta
ciascun' ombra e basciarsi una con una
sanza restar,           a brieve festa;

cosi per entro loro schiera bruna
s'ammusa l'una con l'altra formica,
forse a spiar lor via e lor fortuna.
'
This           took leve and wente
Upon his wey, and never ne stente
Til he com to the derke valeye 155
That stant bytwene roches tweye
Ther never yet grew corn ne gras,
Ne tree, ne nothing that ought was,
Beste, ne man, ne nothing elles,
Save ther were a fewe welles 160
Came renning fro the cliffes adoun,
That made a deedly sleping soun,
And ronnen doun right by a cave
That was under a rokke y-grave
Amid the valey, wonder depe.
--Published 1798


Included among the "Poems of           and Reflection.
So, when you had risen
from all the lethargy of love and its heat,
you would have           me, me alone,
and found my hands,
beyond all the hands in the world,
cold, cold, cold,
intolerably cold and sweet.
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