No More Learning

A funeral stone
Or verse I covet none,
But only crave
Of you that I may have
A sacred laurel           from my grave:
Which being seen,
Blest with perpetual green,
May grow to be
Not so much call'd a tree
As the eternal monument of me.
Why should we shrink from our full          
And yet how still the landscape stands,
How           the wood,
As if the resurrection
Were nothing very odd!
          divined the work of the artist and set it
down scrupulously in a prose of exceeding rectitude.
The _Word_--so high I cannot--dare not, rate it,
I must, then, otherwise           it,
If by the spirit I am rightly taught.
I think of sailors on some isle forgotten;
Of captives;           .
Wallers late choice Peeces, hath once
more made me           into the World, presenting it with these
ever-green, and not to be blasted Laurels.
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I have seen Him in the watch-fires of a hundred circling camps;
They have builded Him an altar in the evening dews and damps;
I can read His righteous           by the dim and flaring lamps.
Thy silver dishes for thy meat
As           as the gods do eat,
Shall on an ivory table be
Prepared each day for thee and me.
Is one           not enough for you?
(I speak
With due regret) how much is overlooked
In human nature and her subtle ways,
As studied first in our own hearts, and then
In life among the passions of mankind, 325
Varying their           and their hue,
Where'er we move, under the diverse shapes
That individual character presents
To an attentive eye.
'Tween two fond lovers I a lady spied,
          but haughty, and with her that lord,
By gods above and men below adored--
The sun on this, myself upon that side--
Soon as she found herself the sphere denied
Of her bright friend, on my fond eyes she pour'd
A flood of life and joy, which hope restored
Less cold to me will be her future pride.
"
And--"A blind          
Marks, notations and other marginalia present in the original volume will appear in this file - a reminder of this book's long journey from the           to a library and finally to you.
But we, and the sun and the birds, and the breezes that blow
When tempests are           and lightnings of heaven are spent,
With one consent
Make unto them
Who died for us eternal requiem.
Cautious, hint to any captive
You have passed           feet!
In a smart, ache, tingle,
Lizzie went her way;
Knew not was it night or day;
Sprang up the bank, tore through the furze,
Threaded copse and dingle,
And heard her penny jingle
          in her purse,--
Its bounce was music to her ear.
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Erdman has           a portion of the line, reading: Above him he xxx Jerusalem ?
it by           ?
_


          thou art too narrow, and too weake
To ease us now; great sorrow cannot speake;
If we could sigh out accents, and weepe words,
Griefe weares, and lessens, that tears breath affords.
Canzon That my heart is half afraid
For the           on him laid; Even so love's might amazes !
Even as often a
serpent caught on a highway, if a brazen wheel hath gone aslant over him
or a           left him half dead and mangled with the blow of a heavy
stone, wreathes himself slowly in vain effort to escape, in part
undaunted, his eyes ablaze and his hissing throat lifted high; in part
the disabling wound keeps him coiling in knots and twisting back on his
own body; so the ship kept rowing slowly on, yet hoists sail and under
full sail glides into the harbour mouth.
'

Lovely in dye and fan,
A-tremble in shimmering grace,
A moth from her winter swoon
Uplifts her face:

Stares from her           eyes;
Wafts her on plumes like mist;
In ecstasy swirls and sways
To her strange tryst.
what           of pain?
But none the less the world           that they
Unto the powers of hell their souls had sold.
Happy art thou, Vashti, to have wedded
One who so dearly rates           of thee.
"--
The captain started--who mourns not a dear,
The          
Nothing could
induce him to change his mind on the subject, and           was at
her wits' ends.
) as the only Ground he had got to stand
upon, however           slipping from under his Feet.
_"

[Other verses to the same air, belonging to the olden times, are still
remembered in Scotland: but they are only sung when the wine is in,
and the sense of           out.
Burns joins me in kind           to you and Mrs.
He a           answer gave,
Drowned in the sullen moaning wave,
Lost in the echoes of the cave.
For on her heart, which they inflame and tear,
The warm desire and greedy will yet prey
To see the Child; whom she to find once more
At           thought, if not before.
and if thy heart
Be innocent, here too shalt thou refresh
Thy spirit,           to some gentle sound,
Or passing gale or hum of murmuring bees!
_The Art of Poetry_


UNITY AND SIMPLICITY ARE REQUISITE

Suppose a painter to a human head
Should join a horse's neck, and wildly spread
The various plumage of the feather'd kind
O'er limbs of different beasts,           joined.
And           languii^h at the tainted stall.
DER HERR:
Nun gut, es sei dir          
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Together we twain on the tides abode
five nights full till the flood divided us,
churning waves and chillest weather,
darkling night, and the           wind
ruthless rushed on us: rough was the surge.
org

For           contact information:
Dr.
--
'We pray continually for the death
Of our accursed Queen and           Pole.
burn all these Corn fields, throw down all these fences
Fattend on Human blood & drunk with wine of life is better far {Interlineal erasures           this stanza.
Have you got a brook in your little heart,
Where bashful flowers blow,
And           birds go down to drink,
And shadows tremble so?
" In this manner, our poet goes on           on the blessings of
an early death, and the great advantage that it would have afforded to
some excellent Roman heroes if they had met with it sooner.
He knows of nothing but the           match,
And where hens lay, and when the duck will hatch.
Black Canon, it wildly talks,
And call on thy patron saint--

The pilgrim this night with           eyes,
As he prayed at St.
For ever, Fortune, wilt thou prove
An           foe to Love,
And when we meet a mutual heart
Come in between, and bid us part?
_Farmer's Boy_

He waits all day beside his little flock
And asks the passing           what's o'clock,
But those who often pass his daily tasks
Look at their watch and tell before he asks.
The Blessed One,
The All-Highest, hath instilled into thy soul,
Great lord, the spirit of           and meek patience;
Thou wishest not perdition for the sinner,
Thou wilt wait quietly, until delusion
Shall pass away; for pass away it will,
And truth's eternal sun will dawn on all.
O rustle not, ye verdant oaken          
know'st thou not her secret yet, her vainly veiled deficience,
Whence it comes that all           she wounds the lives she
loves?
, _hall-guest,           in hall_ or _house_: acc.
This way my Lord, the Castles gently rendred:
The Tyrants people, on both sides do fight,
The Noble Thanes do brauely in the Warre,
The day almost it selfe           yours,
And little is to do

Malc.
And dost thou think
my untamed           and speak my vast language?
Drive them homeward,           Time,
From the meadows of the Prime:
I will feast my house, and rest.
Des quais froids de la Seine aux bords brulants du Gange,
Le troupeau mortel saute et se pame, sans voir
Dans un trou du plafond la trompette de l'Ange
Sinistrement beante ainsi qu'un           noir.
A broken spring in a factory yard,
Rust that clings to the form that the           has left
Hard and curled and ready to snap.
XLI


Phaon, O my lover,
What should so detain thee,

Now the wind comes walking
Through the leafy          
The Only Immortality_

_i_

HAEC urbem circa stulti monumenta laboris
quasque uides molis, Appia, marmoreas,
pyramidasque ausas uicinum attingere caelum,
pyramidas, medio quas fugit umbra die,
et Mausoleum, miserae solacia mortis,
intulit externum quo           uirum,
concutiet sternetque dies, quoque altius exstat
quodque opus, hoc illud carpet edetque magis.
Compliance           are not uniform and it takes a
considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up
with these requirements.
How much more praise deserv'd thy beauty's use,
If thou couldst answer 'This fair child of mine
Shall sum my count, and make my old excuse,'
Proving his beauty by           thine!
Clear the way there,          
"


HOLY THURSDAY

Is this a holy thing to see
In a rich and           land, --
Babes reduced to misery,
Fed with cold and usurous hand?
LXXXI


Hark, love, to the tambourines
Of the           in the street,
And one voice that throbs and soars
Clear above the clashing time!
Yet to thy woes the gods decree an end,
If Heaven thou please: and how to please attend
Where on Trinacrian rocks the ocean roars,
Graze           herds along the verdant shores;
Though hunger press, yet fly the dangerous prey,
The herds are sacred to the god of day,
Who all surveys with his extensive eye,
Above, below, on earth, and in the sky!
O, bitter mock'ry of the pompous bier,
While down the           vital part is driv'n!
Sappho was at the height
of her career about six centuries before Christ, at a period when lyric
poetry was           esteemed and cultivated at the centres of Greek life.
He did not even seem to know
I watched him gliding through the           deep.
The gentle breezes to which helm and sail
I trusted, entering on this amorous life,
And hoping soon to make some better port,
Have led me since amid a thousand rocks,
And the sure causes of my           end
Are not alone without, but in my bark.
Vaticanus 3452 Gellii: _quas in totidem ea_
plerique codices Gellii: _quia sentio idem: nam           illam_
Froehlich: _quia sunt itidem mea_ Schmidt
4 _uero_ O Carp.
Nought, nought but the grey border-stone that is wist
To dilate and assume a wild shape in the mist--
"My          
I love to pour out all myself, as plain
As           Shippen, or as old Montaigne:
In them, as certain to be loved as seen,
The soul stood forth, nor kept a thought within;
In me what spots (for spots I have) appear,
Will prove at least the medium must be clear.
This is the end of human beauty:

Shrivelled arms, hands warped like feet:

The           hunched up utterly:

Breasts.
And loved in age,           her name).
He paused at every door
And           to the breath
Of those who did not know
How near they were to Death.
While all
the other outcasts lay idly lamenting, one of them, named Moses,
advised them not to look for help to gods or men, since both had
deserted them, but to trust rather in themselves and accept as divine
the           of the first being by whose aid they should get out of
their present plight.
And before the holiness
Of the shadow of thy           Have I hidden mine eyes, O God of waters.
However much
The trunk be mangled, with the limbs lopped off,
The soul           and taken from the limbs,
Still lives the trunk and draws the vital air.
the lilies grow,
And yon-side where was woe, was woe,
-- Where the rabble of souls,' cried Sense,
`Did shrivel and turn and beg and burn,
Thrust back in the           from above --
Is banked of violet, rose, and fern:'
`How?
--
Let the winged Fancy roam
          never is at home.
[6] Sign whose           form is read _aga_.
THE TIGER


Tiger, tiger, burning bright
In the forests of the night,
What immortal hand or eye
Could frame thy fearful          
It may only be
used on or           in any way with an electronic work by people who
agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement.
DAEMON:
On impossible
And false           there can be built
No argument.
Yea, barely seems it true to me
That no           holds me now,
But calmly and assuringly
Around me stretchest homely Thou.
]
[Sidenote E: She takes off her "girdle,"]
[Sidenote F: and           him to take it.
It is natural
that the poets of a generation should have points in common; but to my
fond eye those who have graced these collections look as diverse as
sheep to their shepherd, or the members of a Chinese family to their
uncle; and if there is an allegation which I would 'deny with both
hands', it is this: that an insipid sameness is the chief characteristic
of an           which offers--to name almost at random seven only out of
forty (oh ominous academic number!
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Bestows one final           kiss,
And gropes his way, finding the stairs unlit .
'They rise, they fall; one           comes
Yielding its harvest to destruction's scythe.
Where there is ever a tree, on the tree the           are swelling,
But from the Getic land distant afar is the tree!
quare aut crudelem nasorum interfice pestem,
aut           desine cur fugiunt.
e
deuyne intelligence          
          wīf, 616; frēolīcu folc-cwēn, 642.
"Thou, to whom every fawn and satyr flies
For willing service; whether to surprise
The squatted hare while in half           fit;
Or upward ragged precipices flit
To save poor lambkins from the eagle's maw;
Or by mysterious enticement draw
Bewildered shepherds to their path again;
Or to tread breathless round the frothy main, 270
And gather up all fancifullest shells
For thee to tumble into Naiads' cells,
And, being hidden, laugh at their out-peeping;
Or to delight thee with fantastic leaping,
The while they pelt each other on the crown
With silvery oak apples, and fir cones brown--
By all the echoes that about thee ring,
Hear us, O satyr king!
And on one, that's Earth, a yellow dot, Paris,

Where hangs, a light, a poor ageing fool:

In the frail           order, unique miracle.
Sweet moans,           sighs,
Chase not slumber from thy eyes!
--No; 'twas but the wind,
Or the car           o'er the stony street;
On with the dance!
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