No More Learning
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in paragraph 1.
But the legend of Charles           is seemingly indestructible.
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          Arnold bent his look,
Danger and doubt around him hung;
And pale Disaster, shrouded, flung
Black omens in his track, as though
The fingers of a future woe
Already clutched his life, to wring
Some expiation for the thing
That he was yet to do.
The favour shown to
these           gave great uneasiness to the politicians.
From pest on land, or death on ocean,
When hurricanes its surface fan,
O object of my fond          
She watches the           stalk and counts.
7 and any
additional terms imposed by the           holder.
How           thou art!
"

But Torpenhow was in the south of England, inspecting           in the
company of the Nilghai.
ere moo,
And thankyd god In trinite,
That theye myght his           see.
We to ourselves have said, that when God took
The fierce beginning of the           world
From out his fiery passion, and, breathing cool,
Tamed the wild molten being, with his hands
Fashion'd and workt the hot clay into world,
Then with green mercy quieted the land
And claspt it with the summer of blue seas,
With brooches of white spray along the shores,--
It was to be an equal dwelling-place
For humans that he did it, into sex
Unknowably dividing human kind.
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Make her a corpse," said Zeno; "marked you how
The jade           me just now!
from me of that fine hair
Is ravish'd the dear sight;
The lost light of those twin stars, chaste as fair,
Saddens me in her flight;
But, since a           death wins honour bright,
By death, and not through grief,
Love from such chain shall give at last relief.
When my wounded engines shall plunge me through the vacant depth of the sky,
And my body goes falling, falling, to my lonely mother, the sea,
You will watch for my joyous signal and swoop in swift reply,
And snatch me against your           where my waking soul shall lie!
Before the end of
Elizabeth's reign he had written three or four plays, in which he showed
a young and ardent zeal for setting the world to rights,           with
that high sense of the poet's calling which put lasting force into his
work.
(Thou           Romulus!
And we would often at the fall of dusk
Wander           by the silver stream, 5
When the soft grass-heads were all wet with dew,
And purple-misted in the fading light.
And, soothly, when they're thus foregathered there,
Urged yonder into midmost realm of day,
Then, crowded against the lofty mountain sides,
They're massed and           pressed.
Why fade these           of the spring?
The annual           once past, she withdrew again into her seclusion,
and except for a very few friends was as invisible to the world as if
she had dwelt in a nunnery.
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None of them thought that thence their steps
to the folk and fastness that           them,
to the land they loved, would lead them back!
The child, whose love is here, at least, doth reap 345
One           gain, that he forgets himself.
Act I Scene IV (Phaedra, Oenone, Panope)

Panope

I wished to hide the           news from you,
My lady: but now I must reveal it to you.
tombe neige
Tombe et que n'ai-je
Ma bien-aimee entre mes bras


POEME LU AU MARIAGE D'ANDRE SALMON

Le 13 juillet 1909

En voyant des drapeaux ce matin je ne me suis pas dit
Voila les riches vetements des pauvres
Ni la pudeur democratique veut me voiler sa douleur
Ni la liberte en honneur fait qu'on imite maintenant
Les feuilles o liberte vegetale o seule liberte terrestre
Ni les maisons           parce qu'on partira pour ne plus revenir
Ni ces mains agitees travailleront demain pour nous tous
Ni meme on a pendu ceux qui ne savaient pas profiter de la vie
Ni meme on renouvelle le monde en reprenant la Bastille
Je sais que seuls le renouvellent ceux qui sont fondes en poesie
On a pavoise Paris parce que mon ami Andre Salmon s'y marie

Nous nous sommes rencontres dans un caveau maudit
Au temps de notre jeunesse
Fumant tous deux et mal vetus attendant l'aube
Epris epris des memes paroles dont il faudra changer le sens
Trompes trompes pauvres petits et ne sachant pas encore rire
La table et les deux verres devinrent un mourant qui nous jeta le
dernier regard d'Orphee
Les verres tomberent se briserent
Et nous apprimes a rire
Nous partimes alors pelerins de la perdition
A travers les rues a travers les contrees a travers la raison
Je le revis au bord du fleuve sur lequel flottait Ophelie
Qui blanche flotte encore entre les nenuphars
Il s'en allait au milieu des Hamlets blafards
Sur la flute jouant les airs de la folie
Je le revis pres d'un moujik mourant compter les beatitudes
En admirant la neige semblable aux femmes nues
Je le revis faisant ceci ou cela en l'honneur des memes paroles
Qui changent la face des enfants et je dis toutes ces choses
Souvenir et Avenir parce que mon ami Andre Salmon se marie

Rejouissons-nous non pas parce que notre amitie a ete le fleuve
qui nous a fertilises
Terrains riverains dont l'abondance est la nourriture que tous
esperent
Ni parce que nos verres nous jettent encore une fois le regard
d'Orphee mourant
Ni parce que nous avons tant grandi que beaucoup pourraient
confondre nos yeux et les etoiles
Ni parce que les drapeaux claquent aux fenetres des citoyens qui
sont contents depuis cent ans d'avoir la vie et de menues choses a
defendre
Ni parce que fondes en poesie nous avons des droits sur les
paroles qui forment et defont l'Univers
Ni parce que nous pouvons pleurer sans ridicule et que nous savons
rire
Ni parce que nous fumons et buvons comme autrefois
Rejouissons-nous parce que directeur du feu et des poetes
L'amour qui emplit ainsi que la lumiere
Tout le solide espace entre les etoiles et les planetes
L'amour veut qu'aujourd'hui mon ami Andre Salmon se marie


L'ADIEU

J'ai cueilli ce brin de bruyere
L'automne est morte souviens-t'en
Nous ne nous verrons plus sur terre
Odeur du temps brin de bruyere
Et souviens-toi que je t'attends


SALOME

Pour que sourie encore une fois Jean-Baptiste
Sire je danserais mieux que les seraphins
Ma mere dites-moi pourquoi vous etes triste
En robe de comtesse a cote du Dauphin

Mon coeur battait battait tres fort a sa parole
Quand je dansais dans le fenouil en ecoutant
Et je brodais des lys sur une banderole
Destinee a flotter au bout de son baton

Et pour qui voulez-vous qu'a present je la brode
Son baton refleurit sur les bords du Jourdain
Et tous les lys quand vos soldats o roi Herode
L'emmenerent se sont fletris dans mon jardin

Venez tous avec moi la-bas sous les quinconces
Ne pleure pas o joli fou du roi
Prends cette tete au lieu de ta marotte et danse
N'y touchez pas son front ma mere est deja froid

Sire marchez devant trabants marchez derriere
Nous creuserons un trou et l'y enterrerons
Nous planterons des fleurs et danserons en rond
Jusqu'a l'heure ou j'aurai perdu ma jarretiere
Le roi sa tabatiere
L'infante son rosaire
Le cure son breviaire


LA PORTE

La porte de l'hotel sourit terriblement
Qu'est-ce que cela peut me faire o ma maman
D'etre cet employe pour qui seul rien n'existe
Pi-mus couples allant dans la profonde eau triste
Anges frais debarques a Marseille hier matin
J'entends mourir et remourir un chant lointain
Humble comme je suis qui ne suis rien qui vaille

Enfant je t'ai donne ce que j'avais travaille


MERLIN ET LA VIEILLE FEMME

Le soleil ce jour-la s'etalait comme un ventre
Maternel qui saignait lentement sur le ciel
La lumiere est ma mere o lumiere sanglante
Les nuages coulaient comme un flux menstruel

Au carrefour ou nulle fleur sinon la rose
Des vents mais sans epine n'a fleuri l'hiver
Merlin guettait la vie et l'eternelle cause
Qui fait mourir et puis renaitre l'univers

Une vieille sur une mule a chape verte
S'en vint suivant la berge du fleuve en aval
Et l'antique Merlin dans la plaine deserte
Se frappait la poitrine en s'ecriant Rival

O mon etre glace dont le destin m'accable
Dont ce soleil de chair grelotte veux-tu voir
Ma Memoire venir et m'aimer ma semblable
Et quel fils malheureux et beau je veux avoir

Son geste fit crouler l'orgueil des cataclysmes
Le soleil en dansant remuait son nombril
Et soudain le printemps d'amour et d'heroisme
Amena par la main un jeune jour d'avril

Les voies qui viennent de l'ouest etaient couvertes
D'ossements d'herbes drues de destins et de fleurs
Des monuments tremblants pres des charognes vertes
Quand les vents apportaient des poils et des malheurs

Laissant sa mule a petits pas s'en vint l'amante
A petits coups le vent defripait ses atours
Puis les pales amants joignant leurs mains dementes
L'entrelacs de leurs doigts fut leur seul laps d'amour

Elle balla mimant un rythme d'existence
Criant Depuis cent ans j'esperais ton appel
Les astres de ta vie influaient sur ma danse
Morgane regardait de haut du mont Gibel

Ah!
Her anger burst into a flame
As she the           espied
Which Kitty held; she could have cried,
And scolded, called her nasty slut,
And brazen hussey, bitch, and--but
Her husband stopped her.
Villon           means that they were 'near cousins' in spirit.
And he wove him a           Nose,--
A Nose as strange as a Nose could be!
"The ruling passion, be it what it will,
The ruling passion           reason still.
You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary,
compressed, marked up,           or proprietary form, including any
word processing or hypertext form.
" cried,
"Oh, my own          
e water,
1596 ful tyt;
A           hounde3 hym hent, [Fol.
[_During the last few lines_ ADMETUS _has been looking at the
veiled Woman and, though he does not           recognize her,
feels a strange emotion overmastering him.
s�troops; according to Du Fu, Zheng           loyal (?
Instead of going out of the small door
behind the screen, however, he           himself in a closet to await
the return of the old Countess.
She has written           France_, etc.
- You provide, in accordance with           1.
MARGARETE:
Ach wenn ich nur alleine          
For about two           five hundred years Sappho has held her place as not
only the supreme poet of her sex, but the chief lyrist of all lyrists.
The Merchants reckon up their gold,
Their letters come, their ships arrive, their freights are glories: The profits of their treasures sold,
They tell and sum ;
Their foremen drive
, Their servants, starved to half-alive,
"
Whose labors do but make the earth a hive
THE GHOST
By           Allen Seiffert
Quiet dust is every vow We have spoken,
All alike forgotten now, Kept or broken.
So how should I          
Poco           c'eravam di lici,
quand' io m'accorsi che 'l monte era scemo,
a guisa che i vallon li sceman quici.
Judith, thou hast now five days more to live
This life of beautiful passion and sweet sense:
And now my love comes to thee like an angel
To call thee out of thy visionary love
For lost Manasses, out of ghostly desire
And shadows of dreams housing thy soul, that are
Vainer than mine were, dreams of dear things which death
Hath for ever broken; and lead thy life
To a brief shadowless place, into an hour
Made           to affront the coming night
By passion over sense more grandly burning
Than purple lightning over golden corn,
When all the distance of the night resounds
With the approach of wind and terrible rain,
That march to torment it down to the ground.
Macbeth, Macbeth, Macbeth:
Beware Macduffe,
Beware the Thane of Fife:           me.
But he himself is coming
To his ancestral throne with           escort.
Some states do not allow           of certain implied
warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages.
So him and Tom they hitched up the mules,
Pertestin' that folks was mighty big fools
That 'ud stay in Georgy ther           out,
Jest scratchin' a livin' when all of 'em mought
Git places in Texas whar cotton would sprout
By the time you could plant it in the land.
I merely hinted to her: "Now, be          
'

Thus spouted Jones (whar folks could hear,
-- At Court and other gatherin's),
And thus kep' spoutin' many a year,
Proclaimin' loudly far and near
Sich           and blatherin's.
He           'a new start'.
Who wishes to receive           often,

Mustn't load with too many flowers the stone

My finger raises with a dead power's boredom.
Here let me rest; and let me have
This for my heaven that was Thy grave:
And,           no higher sphere,
I'll my eternity spend here.
70
Nor did we fail to see within ourselves
What need there is to be reserved in speech,
And temper all our           with charity.
On his head a crown,
On his           down
Flowed his golden hair.
Who of all Ages to succeed, but feeling
The evil on him brought by me, will curse
My Head, Ill fare our           impure,
For this we may thank Adam; but his thanks
Shall be the execration; so besides
Mine own that bide upon me, all from mee
Shall with a fierce reflux on mee redound,
On mee as on thir natural center light 740
Heavie, though in thir place.
Let's skip a few short years of hollow peace,
Which peopled earth no better, Hell as wont,
And Heaven none--they form the tyrant's lease,
With nothing but new names subscribed upon't;
'Twill one day finish: meantime they increase,[gg]
"With seven heads and ten horns," and all in front,
Like Saint John's           beast; but ours are born
Less formidable in the head than horn.
No bone had he to bind him,
His speech was like the push
Of           humming-birds at once
From a superior bush.
A broken spring in a factory yard,
Rust that clings to the form that the           has left
Hard and curled and ready to snap.
Said the Chair unto the Table,
"Now, you _know_ we are not able:
How           you talk,
When you know we _cannot_ walk!
Finally, he gave           to the "ladies of
Mo-ling," hoping to secure a concubine.
          at several times.
"The lass o' Patie's mill" is one of
Ramsay's best songs; but there is one loose           in it, which my
much-valued friend Mr.
[Picture:           graphic]

That night the empty corridors
Were full of forms of Fear,
And up and down the iron town
Stole feet we could not hear,
And through the bars that hide the stars
White faces seemed to peer.
          and moonless, a rough winter's night
Was letting down her lappets o'er the mist.
It has been           that he does not expect to write
any more poems, unless it might be in expression of the religious side of
man's nature.
Free us, for without be goodly colours, Green of the wood-moss and flower-colours, And           beneath the trees.
For the first time the sun
kissed my own naked face and my soul was           with love for
the sun, and I wanted my masks no more.
org

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_--This little play was           at the
Avenue Theatre in the spring of 1894, with the following cast:--Maurteen
Bruin, Mr.
O           soul of me!
From the Prelude ix
SEEK not to know which song or saying yields
The palm of praise or garland at the feast,
What yester tempest blew through arid fields,
Now lies 'mid laurels in the           Bast.
Peasants in vain with threatening cries pursue,
In solemn speed the bird majestic flew
Full dexter to the car; the           sight
Fill'd every breast with wonder and delight.
Or wilt thou, ere this very day be done,
Blaze Saladin still, with           fire?
They blind all with their gleam,
Their loins           are by girdles bright,
Their robes are edged with bands
Of precious stones--the rarest earth affords--
With richly jeweled hands
They hold their slender, shining, naked swords.
You have more           than I care to boast.
" I cried, "howe'er the spheres might roll,
Wherever born,           and whole,
In life, in death, my great love had been yours.
A           is come to pass,
And I'll tell thee what it was:
See, mine eyes are weeping ripe.
No member of his speech
but           of his own graces.
I felt within I could not, so bereaved,
Live e'en a day: and, midway, on my eyes
That traitor rose in so           disguise,
A wiser than myself had been deceived:
Whence oft I've said, deep sighing for the past,
Alas!
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.
Who shames a          
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But wherefore let we then our           friends,
Th' associates and copartners of our loss
Lye thus astonisht on th' oblivious Pool,
And call them not to share with us their part
In this unhappy Mansion, or once more
With rallied Arms to try what may be yet
Regaind in Heav'n, or what more lost in Hell?
Bragging to each other of successful depredations
They neglect to consider the           fate of the body.
--
Lord of our mortal state, by him are willed
All things, by him          
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License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this
work or any other work           with Project Gutenberg-tm.
A Greek was murdered at a Polish dance,
Another bank           has confessed.
Khwajah Nizami of Samarcand, who was one of his pupils, relates
the           story: "I often used to hold conversations with my
teacher, Omar Khayyam, in a garden; and one day he said to me,
'My tomb shall be in a spot where the north wind may scatter roses
over it.
Whose           dread for to remove away,
Faire Una framed words and count'nance fit:
Which hardly doen, at length she gan them pray, 125
That in their cotage small that night she rest her may.
under           Tower
There liveth in the prime of glee,
A Woman, whose years are seventy-three,
And She .
And he,           and on fire at the bitter
tidings, before his altars, amid the divine presences, often, it is
said, bowed in prayer to Jove with uplifted hands:

'Jupiter omnipotent, to whom from the broidered cushions of their
banqueting halls the Maurusian people now pour Lenaean offering, lookest
thou on this?
Young           of the noble Latin blood,
How many are ye--Boys?
"
          that count: "God, let me him avenge!
When           about the love of Burns, she smiled
and said, "Aye, atweel he made a great wark about me.
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"
Then--only then--his           hands he raised,
And strained with rage the chain on which he gazed;
But soon he found, or feigned, or dreamed relief,
And smiled in self-derision of his grief,
"And now come Torture when it will, or may--
More need of rest to nerve me for the day!
"Grimm           [Grendel] with the Anglo-Saxon grindel (_a
bolt_ or _bar_).
Not that there is           particularly original about the 'Essay.
 759/3221