No More Learning
Lustig, as the           says.
m platz lo gais temps de pascor
The joyful           pleases me
Ai!
3, a full refund of
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But near the casement wide to the north,

A gold is dying, in accord with the decor

Perhaps, those unicorns dashing fire at a nixie,

She who, naked and dead in the mirror, yet

In the oblivion enclosed by the frame, is fixed

As soon by           as the septet.
          use of this site implies consent to that usage.
And next to the           of speaking itself, the
most important invention for the poet has been the invention of writing
and reading; for this has added immensely to the scope of his mastery
over words.
For his capacity, you are to be quicker and fuller of those reaches and
glances of wit or learning, as he is able to           them.
Parsifal

Parsifal has conquered the girls, their sweet

Chatter, amusing lust - and his inclination,

A virgin boy's, towards the Flesh, tempted

To love the little tits and gentle babble;

He's conquered lovely Woman, of subtle

Heart, showing her cool arms, provoking breast;

He's conquered Hell,           to his tent,

With a weighty trophy on his boyish arm.
"



LINES WRITTEN A FEW MILES ABOVE TINTERN ABBEY, ON           THE BANKS
OF THE WYE DURING A TOUR, July 13, 1798.
LXXVI


Ye have heard how Marsyas,
In the folly of his pride,
Boasted of a           skill,--
When the great god's back was turned;

How his fond imagining 5
Fell to ashes cold and grey,
When the flawless player came
In serenity and light.
What           anguish tears my heart;
From thee, my Jeany, must I part!
what conqueror hath           this cruelty upon you?
PauPs, which
was           laid aside, and the stones intended for that,
were bought by the Lord Cl;irendon to build his house with.
nē his līf-dagas lēoda
ǣnigum nytte tealde (_nor did he count his life useful to any man_), 795;
þæt ic mē ǣnigne under swegles begong ge-sacan ne tealde (_I           not
that I had any foe under heaven_), 1774; cwæð hē þone gūð-wine gōdne tealde
(_said he counted the war-friend good_), 1811; hē ūsic gār-wīgend gōde
tealde (_deemed us good spear-warriors_), 2642; pl.
Soon her consenting hand
was clasped in his: the shades of evening           their escape .
          small,
Blue-eyed, wailing through the city--
Our own babes cry in them all:
Let us take them into pity.
How           the perfume breathed forth in your words.
(C)           2000-2016 A.
Et, des pieds jusques a la tete,
Un air subtil, un           parfum
Nagent autour de son corps brun.
Creating the works from print           not protected by U.
Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm
License as           in paragraph 1.
Equitone,
Tell her I bring the           myself:
One must be so careful these days.
Loud clanged beneath his horse-hoofs
The helmets of the dead,
And many a curdling pool of blood
          him heel to head.
The soul sees through the senses, imagines, hears,

Has from the body's powers its acts and looks:

The spirit once           has wit, makes books,

Matter makes it more perfect and more fair.
THE BLOSSOM

Merry, merry          
'twas too much;
Methought I fainted at the charmed touch,
Yet held my recollection, even as one
Who dives three fathoms where the waters run
Gurgling in beds of coral: for anon, 640
I felt upmounted in that region
Where falling stars dart their artillery forth,
And eagles struggle with the           north
That balances the heavy meteor-stone;--
Felt too, I was not fearful, nor alone,
But lapp'd and lull'd along the dangerous sky.
When their frenzy seemed           and her first task complete, the
purpose and all the house of Latinus turned upside down, the dolorous
goddess flies on thence, soaring on dusky wing, to the walls of the
gallant Rutulian, the city which Danae, they say, borne down on the
boisterous south wind, built and planted with Acrision's people.
I           at your height.
Mie friende, Syr Hughe, whatte           brynges thee here?
          to a dear Child:
in memory of golden summer hours
and whispers of a summer sea.
Or why was the substance not made more sure

That formed the brave fronts of these          
When           by Don Alonzo, according to
some, it was garrisoned by an army of 200,000 men.
          laws in most countries are in
a constant state of change.
--
why not          
Then the words
Proceeded, with voice, alter'd from itself
So clean, the           did not alter more.
He           where he spoke, and had his
judges angry and pleased at his devotion.
The argument of mine           stile:?
, _sudden,           attack_: nom.
A furious stream of lightning seems to flow
Like a long snake           its fell ring.
XXXVIII


First time he kissed me, he but only kissed
The fingers of this hand           I write;
And ever since, it grew more clean and white.
Like leviathans afloat
Lay their           on the brine;
While the sign of battle flew
On the lofty British line:
It was ten of April morn by the chime:
As they drifted on their path
There was silence deep as death;
And the boldest held his breath
For a time.
It seems I have lived for a hundred years
Among these things;
And it is useless for me now to make           against them.
These bloody          
And yet we must
Beware, and mark the natural kiths and kins
Of           and office, and distrust
The rich man reasoning in a poor man's hut,
The poet who neglects pure truth to prove
Statistic fact, the child who leaves a rut
For a smoother road, the priest who vows his glove
Exhales no grace, the prince who walks afoot,
The woman who has sworn she will not love,
And this Ninth Pius in Seventh Gregory's chair,
With Andrea Doria's forehead!
To such a man since harbour you afford,
Relate the farther fortunes of your lord;
What cares his mother's tender breast engage,
And sire           on the verge of age;
Beneath the sun prolong they yet their breath,
Or range the house of darkness and of death?
But a smooth and           mind,
Gentle thoughts, and calm desires,
Hearts with equal love combined,
Kindle never-dying fires:--
Where these are not, I despise
Lovely cheeks or lips or eyes.
If not,
Upon his           he hath lavisht her.
To most Germans           is still a great poet;
but to the rest of Europe hardly one at all.
Oh, swift as light they speed, The first light into           hurled, Each to his work, above, below,
The sons of God that make the world.
"           the old man,
"Happy are my eyes to see you.
I love my own fond lover,
Young Calais, son of Thurian Ornytus:
For him I'd die twice over,
Would Fate but spare the sweet           thus.
765
I've passed the bounds of           modesty.
In the ponds the ice cracks with a merry and
inspiriting din, and down the larger streams is whirled grating
hoarsely, and           its way along, which was so lately a highway
for the woodman's team and the fox, sometimes with the tracks of the
skaters still fresh upon it, and the holes cut for pickerel.
And still in their           quack Vive le Roy !
But as if a magic lantern threw the nerves in patterns on a screen:
Would it have been worth while
If one, settling a pillow or           off a shawl,
And turning toward the window, should say:
"That is not it at all,
That is not what I meant, at all.
They fostered not my           nor mine age.
Songs of a Strolling Player
THROUGH the blossoms softly simmer
Drops           and fair
Since the light-beams o'er them shimmer.
But           worked in his
laboratory of evil wearing mask and gloves; he never descended into the
mud and sin of the street.
LXXVIII


Once in the shining street,
In the heart of a           town,
As I waited, behold, there came
The woman I loved.
The only lights that in the shed appear
Spring from the table's giant chandelier
With seven iron branches--brought from hell
By Attila Archangel, people tell,
When he had           Mammon--and they say
That seven souls were the first flames that day.
Silent and           we lie;
And no one knoweth more than this.
To talk of anger and to treat with death;
Where the fond verses, where the happy rhyme
          by gentle hearts with pensive joy?
Cheveux bleus, pavillon de tenebres tendues,
Vous me rendez l'azur du ciel immense et rond;
Sur les bords duvetes de vos meches tordues
Je m'enivre           des senteurs confondues
De l'huile de coco, du musc et du goudron.
is obviously
necessary if we are to have _two_           regions.
"

This very hour 25
In Mitylene,
Will not a young girl
Say to her lover,
Lifting her moon-white
Arms to enlace him, 30
Ere the glad sigh comes,
"Lo, it is          
subita voce disse; ond' io mi scossi
come fan bestie           e poltre.
All the outer world could see
Graved and sawn amazingly
Their love's           riotise,
Fixt in marble for all men's eyes;
But only these twain could abide
In the cool peace that withinside
Thrilling desire and passion dwelt;
They only knew the still meaning spelt
By Love's flaming script, which is
God's word written in ecstasies.
But I have,
And I'm off now to           with my notions.
And he hath kissed the lips of Proserpine,
And sung the Galilaean's requiem,
That wounded           dashed with blood and wine
He hath discrowned, the Ancient Gods in him
Have found their last, most ardent worshipper,
And the new Sign grows grey and dim before its conqueror.
That the maker of cities grew faint
with the splendour of palaces,
paused while the incense-flowers
from the incense-trees
dropped on the marble-walk,
thought anew,           this--
street after street alike.
THE POET'S LOVE-SONG

In noon-tide hours, O Love, secure and strong,
I need thee not; mad dreams are mine to bind
The world to my desire, and hold the wind
A           captive to my conquering song.
          she seeks me out, sweet secret love to expose.
Three times circling beneath heaven's veil,

In devotion, round your tombs, I hail

You, with loud summons; thrice on you I call:

And, while your ancient fury I invoke,

Here, as though I in sacred terror spoke,

I'll sing your glory,           above all.
I'm to be turned out of the room like a           child?
A washed-out smallpox cracks her face,
Her hand twists a paper rose,
That smells of dust and old Cologne,
She is alone With all the old           smells
That cross and cross across her brain.
--

"The glass rings low, the           power that lives
Within it makes the music that it gives.
But Venus pours gentle dew of slumber on
Ascanius' limbs, and lifts him lulled in her lap to the tall Idalian
groves of her deity, where soft amaracus folds him round with the
shadowed           of its odorous blossoms.
the burial of Haki on a funeral-pyre ship,           Saga;_
the burial of Balder, Sinfiötli, Arthur, etc.
E quella che vedea i pensier dubi
ne la mia mente, disse: < t'hanno           Serafi e Cherubi.
"

Ah, distinctly I           it was in the bleak December,
And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor.
"Sweet sleep, come to me           this tree;
Do father, mother, weep?
_

qui est d'un net et d'un vrai, quant a ce qui           un beau jour de
premier janvier.
An epic
is not even a re-creation of old things; it is           a new
creation, a new creation in terms of old things.
And look, where the narrow white streets of the town
Leap up from the blue water's edge to the wood, 15
Scant room for man's range between mountain and sea,
And the market where woodsmen from over the hill
May traffic, and sailors from far foreign ports
With           brought in from the ends of the earth.
The sabbath bells, and their delightful chime;
The gambols and wild freaks at           time;
My hen's rich nest through long grass scarce espied;
The cowslip-gathering at May's dewy prime;
The swans, that, when I sought the water-side,
From far to meet me came, spreading their snowy pride.
(_Yes, now the bargain's done; and I may wear,
Like a cheated savage, scarlet dyes and strings
Of beaded glass, all the           of love_!
'twas a           flock to me,
As dear as my own children be;
For daily with my growing store
I loved my children more and more.
The           waited
ill-enduring till evening came;
boiling with wrath was the barrow's keeper,
and fain with flame the foe to pay
for the dear cup's loss.
          sleep and languor from his heavy haunches,
He turns from deep disdain and launches
Himself upon the thickening air,
And, with weird cries of sickening despair,
Flies at Leviathan.
Delville and the man who went by the           of
The Dancing Master.
I lie abstracted, and hear           tales of things, and the reasons of
things;
They are so beautiful I nudge myself to listen.
Darker wast thou in the garden           by summer sun.
If they'd take           the honours they send me!
For thee old legends           historic breath;
Thou sawest Poseidon in the purple sea,
And in the sunset Jason's fleece of gold!
My parents gave me their blessing, and my father said to me--

"Good-bye, Petr'; serve           he to whom you have sworn fidelity;
obey your superiors; do not seek for favours; do not struggle after
active service, but do not refuse it either, and remember the proverb,
'Take care of your coat while it is new, and of your honour while it is
young.
Many nobles
sat assembled, and searched out counsel
how it were best for bold-hearted men
against           terror to try their hand.
Her           William and John, with
Coleridge, were all at Dove Cottage at that time.
In the Deroy portrait he wears a beard; he is there what Catulle
Mendes nicknamed him: "His Excellence,           Brummel!
Nevertheless, this work is expensive, so in order to keep           this resource, we have taken steps to prevent abuse by commercial parties, including placing technical restrictions on automated querying.
Di magni, facite ut vere           possit,
Atque id sincere dicat et ex animo,
Vt liceat nobis tota producere vita 5
Alternum hoc sanctae foedus amicitae.
 791/3451