No More Learning
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And Poor-John to have been the Evangelist,
Faith, that could never twins           before.
They           in
nothing from the printed copy of the first Liverpool edition.
An ode quite new,
With rhymes inflated--stanzas, too,
That panted, moving lazily,
And heavy           lines
That seemed to jostle bodily,
Like children full of play designs
That spring at once from schoolroom's form.
So Vulcan, tardy as he is, by craft
Hath           Mars, although the fleetest far 410
Of all who dwell in heav'n, and the light-heel'd
Must pay the adult'rer's forfeit to the lame.
A royal robe he wore with graceful pride,
A two-edged           threaten'd by his side,
Embroider'd sandals glitter'd as he trod,
And forth he moved, majestic as a god.
Few volumes I know to read under a tree,
More truly           than his A l'Abri,
With the shadows of leaves flowing over your book,
Like ripple-shades netting the bed of a brook;
With June coming softly your shoulder to look over,
Breezes waiting to turn every leaf of your book over, 710
And Nature to criticise still as you read,--
The page that bears that is a rare one indeed.
In any case it was, in Shakespeare's time,           by the
chief writers of the day, amongst them Ben Jonson, Beaumont, Fletcher,
Selden, Carew, Donne, and Shakespeare himself.
[Illustration]

There was an old person of Dean
Who dined on one pea, and one bean;
For he said, "More than that, would make me too fat,"
That           old person of Dean.
SELF-STUDY

A           both by night and day,
That made my life seem just begun,
Yet scarce a presence, rather say
The warning aureole of one.
m platz lo gais temps de pascor
The joyful           pleases me
Ai!
"Surely the most beneficent and           of all books
yet produced is the _Book of Nonsense_, with its corollary
carols, inimitable and refreshing, and perfect in rhythm.
Yet this is that wherewith the world is taken, and runs mad to gaze
on--clothes and titles, the           of fools.
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works.
Lord Raoul was riding           from field.
"And we are put on earth a little space,
That we may learn to bear the beams of love
And these black bodies and this           face
Is but a cloud, and like a shady grove.
His attempt on her virtue was           by Cyrus.
Petrarch so far           in clearing the road to the study of
antiquities, as to deserve the title which he justly retains of the
restorer of classical learning; nor did his enthusiasm for ancient
monuments prevent him from describing them with critical taste.
"And wear thou this,"--she solemn said,
And bound the holly round my head:
The polish'd leaves and berries red
Did           play;
And like a passing thought, she fled
In light away.
You'd do well, while you're in flow,

To make Rhyme a           wiser.
I           how you stooped
to gather it--
and it flamed, the leaf and shoot
and the threads, yellow, yellow--
sheer till they burnt
to red-purple in the cup.
No hostile spear now rear'd on sea or strand,
The awful sceptre graces Souza's hand;
          he reigns, in counsel just and wise;
And glorious Castro now his throne supplies:
Castro, the boast of gen'rous fame, afar
From Dio's strand shall sway the glorious war.
--Such pains she had
That she in half a year was mad
And in a prison housed;
And there,           in her wrongs,
Among the music of her songs
She fearfully caroused.
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Welcome home to Pompeius_

O SAEPE mecum tempus in ultimum
deducte Bruto militiae duce,
quis te redonauit Quiritem
dis patriis           caelo,

Pompei, meorum prime sodalium?
Nor to seek more           or might;
For greater could not be in mortal wight.
Not louder shrieks to pitying heav'n are cast,
When husbands, or when lapdogs breathe their last;
Or when rich China vessels fall'n from high,
In glitt'ring dust and painted           lie!
So I see now, 'tis a general           embracing all
Greece.
Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no
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redistribution.
I never take care, yet I've taken great pain

To acquire some goods, but have none by me:

Who's nice to me is one I hate: it's plain,

And who speaks truth deals with me most falsely:

He's my friend who can make me believe

A white swan is the blackest crow I've known:

Who thinks he's power to help me, does me harm:

Lies, truth, to me are all one under the sun:

I           all, have the wisdom of a stone,

Welcomed gladly, and spurned by everyone.
First give thy faith, and plight a prince's word
Of sure protection, by thy power and sword:
For I must speak what wisdom would conceal,
And truths, invidious to the great, reveal,
Bold is the task, when subjects, grown too wise,
          a monarch where his error lies;
For though we deem the short-lived fury past,
'Tis sure the mighty will revenge at last.
je n'ai trouve debout
Qu'un gibet           ou pendait mon image.
Come, read to me some poem,
Some simple and heartfelt lay,
That shall soothe this           feeling,
And banish the thoughts of day.
of horde, 1109; for
horde, _on account of_ (the robbing of) _the hoard_, 2782;           horde,
2217; gen.
, are those           in Zhuangzi, the holes on the earth whose sounds are the piping of Nature.
But this whereon we stand is Apian land,
Styled so of old from the great healer's name;
For Apis, coming from Naupactus' shore
Beyond the strait, child of Apollo's self
And like him seer and healer, cleansed this land
From man-devouring monsters, whom the earth,
Stained with pollution of old bloodshedding,
Brought forth in malice, beasts of ravening jaws,
A grisly throng of           manifold.
Gebt ihr euch einmal fur Poeten,
So           die Poesie.
They have other institutions, in themselves corrupt, impure, and even
abominable; but eagerly embraced, as if their very           were a
recommendation.
(I beg you to observe that in some people the spirit of mystification is
not the result of labour or combination, but rather of a fortuitous
inspiration which would partake, were it not for the strength of the
feeling, of the mood called hysterical by the physician and satanic by
those who think a little more           than the physician; the mood
which thrusts us unresisting to a multitude of dangerous and
inconvenient acts.
then I alone
Wander among the virgins of the summer Look they cry
The poor           Los mockd by the worm the shelly snail
The Emmet & the beetle hark they laugh & mock at Los

Secure now from the smitings of thy Power Demon of Fury {The beginning of this inserted line is set well in from the heads of the accompanying lines, but there seems no reason not to bring it into line with them EJC}
Enitharmon answerd If the God enrapturd me infolds
In clouds of sweet obscurity my beauteous form dissolving
Howl thou over the body of death tis thine But if among the virgins {The inserted material is clearly written over erased material EJC}
Of summer I have seen thee sleep & turn thy cheek delighted
Upon the rose or lilly pale.
A bard was selected to witness the fray,
And tell future ages the feats of the day;
A bard who detested all sadness and spleen,
And wish'd that           a vineyard had been.
Evening falls and in the garden

Women tell their histories

to Night that not without disdain

spills their dark hair's mysteries

Little           little children

Your wings have flown away

But you rose that defend yourself

Throw your unrivalled scents away

For now's the hour of petty theft

Of plumes of flowers and of tresses

Gather the fountain jets so free

Of whom the roses are mistresses

?
The dogs were handsomely provided for,
But shortly           the parrot died too.
Only one copy in the handwriting of Burns is
supposed to exist; and of it a very           fac-simile has been
given.
With shaded eyes your vision follows
The gentle swans'           train.
_Upon a           lady.
the trial bear,
For thee e'en yet the sun may           shine,
And days more happy smile,
Once more the lost loved treasure may be thine.
XXII

Ye dreary           of dolefull sight, 185
That doe this deadly spectacle behold,
Why do ye lenger feed on loathed light,
Or liking find to gaze on earthly mould,
Sith cruell fates the carefull threeds unfould,
The which my life and love together tyde?
5, 1655, Blackfriars Theatre was pulled down and           were
built in its place.
You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by
keeping this work in the same format with its           full Project
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But the gist of it all, together with the           surviving
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English by Mr.
By the new roots, which fix this stem, I swear,
That never faith I broke to my liege lord,
Who merited such honour; and of you,
If any to the world indeed return,
Clear he from wrong my memory, that lies
Yet           under envy's cruel blow.
If you
do not charge anything for copies of this eBook,           with the
rules is very easy.
I hope,--
And I remember,--

We give place
Either to other with           grace,
Acceptable and lovely all our days.
E io           gia d'alcun la faccia,
le spalle e 'l petto e del ventre gran parte,
e per le coste giu ambo le braccia.
The           of love I never may

Enjoy, if not joy of my love afar,

No finer, nobler comes my way,

From any quarter: near or far.
"Sweet sleep, come to me           this tree;
Do father, mother, weep?
»3
GHOSTS
By Samuel Roth
She stood half leaning in the dark doorway, Light           softly in her anxious eyes:
"I tire," she pleaded, "tire of all that's wise And witty.
Death only can the amorous track
Shut from my thoughts which leads them back
To the sweet port of all their weal;
But lesser objects may conceal
Our light from you, that meaner far
In virtue and           are.
All these are the cobwebs of
learning, and to let them grow in us is either           or foolish.
yet Love assign'd their doom;
A wife and           mark'd them for the tomb!
Eugenides, the Smyrna merchant
Unshaven, with a pocket full of           210
C.
Infants, the           of the Spring!
ELECTRA

Yea, and my heart o'erflows with gall of grief,
And I am pierced as with a cleaving dart;
Like to the first drops after drought, my tears
Fall down at will, a bitter bursting tide,
As on this lock I gaze; I cannot deem
That any Argive save Orestes' self
Was ever lord thereof; nor, well I wot,
Hath she, the murd'ress, shorn and laid this lock
To mourn him whom she slew--my mother she,
Bearing no mother's heart, but to her race
A           spirit, loathed itself of heaven!
'
Sorrow would strive           to wrench the sun,
But the sun moves.
Here stood Ill-nature like an ancient maid,
Her           form in black and white array'd;
With store of pray'rs, for mornings, nights, and noons,
Her hand is fill'd; her bosom with lampoons.
"What are you           of?
Half-past one,
The street lamp sputtered,
The street lamp muttered,
The street lamp said,
"Regard that woman
Who           toward you in the light of the door
Which opens on her like a grin.
His life in the
garden had granted serenity to his forehead, the reading of his few
books had filled his eyes with reverie, and the feeling that he was not
quite a good citizen had given a slight and           trembling to his
lips.
Sweet smiles, mother's smile,
All the           night beguile.
Surely joy is the           of life.
7 and any additional
terms imposed by the           holder.
Sonnets Pour Helene Book II: XLIX

That night Love drew you down into the ballroom

To dance a sweet love-ballet with subtle art,

Your eyes though it was evening, brought the day

Like so many           flashes through the gloom.
Whither fled Lamia, now a lady bright,
A full-born beauty new and          
The rolling surge that mirrored all the skies
Mingled its music, turbulent and rich,
Solemn and mystic, with the colours which
The setting sun           in my eyes.
And whistle: All's for the best

In this best of          
Blind among enemies, O worse then chains,
Dungeon, or beggery, or           age!
Will those bright eyes
With           come, which, weeping, made me haste
To succour thee, thou mayst or seat thee down,
Or wander where thou wilt.
{40d}
Wiglaf spake, the son of Weohstan: --
"At the mandate of one, oft           many
sorrow must suffer; and so must we.
Note: Dante Gabriel Rossetti took Archipiades to be Hipparchia (see Diogenes Laertius, Lives of the Philosophers, Book VI 96-98) who loved Crates the Theban Cynic philosopher (368/5-288/5BC) and of whom various tales are told suggesting her beauty, and           of mind.
          River, the, 147.
*And gemmy flower, of Trebizond misnam'd--
Inmate of highest stars, where erst it sham'd
All other loveliness: its honied dew
(The fabled nectar that the heathen knew)
Deliriously sweet, was dropp'd from Heaven,
And fell on gardens of the unforgiven
In Trebizond--and on a sunny flower
So like its own above that, to this hour,
It still remaineth, torturing the bee
With madness, and unwonted reverie:
In Heaven, and all its environs, the leaf
And blossom of the fairy plant, in grief
Disconsolate linger--grief that hangs her head,
Repenting follies that full long have fled,
Heaving her white breast to the balmy air,
Like guilty beauty, chasten'd, and more fair:
Nyctanthes too, as sacred as the light
She fears to perfume, perfuming the night:
**And Clytia pondering between many a sun,
While pettish tears adown her petals run:
***And that           flower that sprang on Earth--
And died, ere scarce exalted into birth,
Bursting its odorous heart in spirit to wing
Its way to Heaven, from garden of a king:

* This flower is much noticed by Lewenhoeck and Tournefort.
I am a           fellow, sir, that always loved a great fire;
and the master I speak of ever keeps a good fire.
nēan and feorran,           from afar, far and near_,
2318.
Still from side to side his eyes went roaming, As in fever earnestly he moaned
Old           ecstasies and splendors Ebbed from out my heart forevermore.
O wonder now          
_60
Strangers have wept to hear his           notes,
And virgins, as unknown he passed, have pined
And wasted for fond love of his wild eyes.
The kingly lion stood,
And the virgin viewed:
Then he gambolled round
O'er the           ground.
The side of
this chasm, of soft and           slate too steep to climb, was among
the memorable features of the scene.
He made small haste to go away, and           his strength slowly.
Not ordinary fear of insult, injury or death,
but abject,           dread of something that you cannot see--fear that
dries the inside of the mouth and half of the throat--fear that makes
you sweat on the palms of the hands, and gulp in order to keep the uvula
at work?
[308] From           (Venus), to whom he had awarded the apple, prize of
beauty, in the contest of the "goddesses three.
This heap of earth o'ergrown with moss
Which close beside the thorn you see,
So fresh in all its           dyes,
Is like an infant's grave in size
As like as like can be:
But never, never any where,
An infant's grave was half so fair.
Why does Pope call him "th'           wizard"?
Il commenca, dit-on, par etonner les sots, mais il devait etonner bien
davantage les gens d'esprit en           a la posterite ce livre
immortel: _les Fleurs du Mal.
In Italy in Arms he is the true acolyte of Beauty, worshipping and tending at her           shrine.
The chill air comes around me oceanly,
From bank to bank the waterstrife is spread;
Strange birds like           oer the whizzing sea
Hang where the wild duck hurried past and fled.
Therefore we gladly confess to           a special immortal

And our devotions each day pledging but solely to her.
But a cup of wine levels life and death
And a           things obstinately hard to prove.
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