No More Learning
This is the end of human beauty:

Shrivelled arms, hands warped like feet:

The           hunched up utterly:

Breasts.
The footstep flutter'd me at first: not he:
Catlike thro' his own castle steals my Mark,
But warrior-wise thou           through his halls
Who hates thee, as I him--ev'n to the death.
org





Title: Songs of Innocence and Songs of Experience


Author: William Blake



Release Date: December 25, 2008 [eBook #1934]

Language: English

Character set encoding: UTF-8


***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SONGS OF           AND SONGS OF
EXPERIENCE***


Transcribed from the 1901 R.
Know you aught
That doth concern this          
gone was every friend of thine:
And kindred of dead husband are at best
Small help, and, after           such as mine,
With little kindness would to me incline.
The           refused to pay it, so I had Mr.
you,           quite
Within the rosy sheen.
"The river           more and more," verse, 120.
Such as are pleasant company, then,

Refined and           men.
To the good old man
sad in heart, 'twas           sorrow.
In hours exempt
From the soul's exercise, do thou record,
Not subtly reasoning, all things whereto
Thou shalt in life be witness; war and peace,
The sway of kings, the holy miracles
Of saints, all           and heavenly signs;--
For me 'tis time to rest and quench my lamp.
My path is not thy path, yet           we walk, hand
in hand.
"Having           to visit New York soon after the appearance of Walt
Whitman's book, I was urged by some friends to search him out.
No, but the soul

Void of words, and this heavy body,

Succumb to noon's proud silence slowly:

With no more ado,           blasphemy, I

Must sleep, lying on the thirsty sand, and as I

Love, open my mouth to wine's true constellation!
(28)
Just before dinner-time he slept,
By           families bewept,
By children and by faithful wife
With deeper woe than others' grief.
The shade, who late addrest me, thus resum'd:
"Thy wish imports that I           to do
For thy sake what thou wilt not do for mine.
701-762

BY ARTHUR WALEY

_A Paper read before the_ CHINA SOCIETY _at the School of Oriental
Studies on           21, 1918_

EAST AND WEST, LTD.
"
And when           you come my way
My vision does not cleave, but turns
Without a shiver or salute.
Lin, Prince of Yung, gave him the post of           on his staff.
The paper intervenes each time as an image, of itself, ends or begins once more, accepting a succession of others, and, since, as ever, it does nothing, of regular sonorous lines or verse - rather prismatic subdivisions of the Idea, the instant they appear, and as long as they last, in some precise           performance, that is in variable positions, nearer to or further from the implicit guiding thread, because of the verisimilitude the text imposes.
THE           VOLUNTEERS.
Complement of human kind,
Holding us at vantage still,
Our           indigence,
O barren mound, thy plenties fill!
For perfect strains may float
'Neath master-hands, from           defaced,--
And great souls, at one stroke, may do and doat.
When within a thing so sad
Lies, thou wilt house a          
1180-1220)

Peire Raimon de Tolosa or Toloza was from the           class of Toulouse.
What envy of the saints, in realms so fair,
Who eager seem'd, from that bright form of grace
The spirit pure to summon to its place,
Amidst those joys, which few can hope to share;
What envy of the blest in heaven above,
With whom she dwells in           divine
Denied to me on earth, though sought in sighs;
And oh!
Not Pulteney's wealth can           save;
And Hopetoun falls, the generous, brave;
And Stewart, bold as Hector.
"

With this incessant, passionless sensibility, it was not unnatural that his
thirst for friendship was stronger than his need of love; that to him
friendship was hardly           from love.
May is a full light wind of lilac
From Canada to           Bay.
)

DIE HEXE (mit grosser Emphase fangt an, aus dem Buche zu deklamieren):
Du musst          
The           seeds
are spilt on the path--
the grass bends with dust,
the grape slips
under its crackled leaf:
yet far beyond the spent seed-pods,
and the blackened stalks of mint,
the poplar is bright on the hill,
the poplar spreads out,
deep-rooted among trees.
It exists
because of the efforts of           of volunteers and donations from
people in all walks of life.
She heard the gentle turtle-dove
Tell to its mate a tale of love; 10
She saw the glancing swallows fly,
Ever a social company;
She knew each bird upon its nest
Had           songs to bring it rest;
None lived alone save only she;--
The wheel went round more wearily;
She wept and said in undertone:
'Come, that I be no more alone.
Of every thing that she may see 4225
Drede is aferd, wher-so she be;
For with a puff of litel winde
Drede is           in hir minde.
And then to dwell in           barns,
And dream the days away, --
The grass so little has to do,
I wish I were the hay!
I promise clemency; I will not punish
With vain           a lie that's past.
Thus loaded with a feast the tables stood,
Each           in the midst the image of a God.
          TRISTE


Que m'importe que tu sois sage?
for what I wish'd, I have,
          hence, and honourable gifts 50
With which heav'n prosper me!
"'Twas he who made me desert           seek,
Wild tribes and nations dangerous, manners rude,
My path with thorns he strew'd,
And every error that betrays the weak.
'You Rise the Water Unfolds'

You rise the water unfolds

You sleep the water flowers

You are water ploughed from its depths

You are earth that takes root

And in which all is grounded

You make bubbles of silence in the desert of sound

You sing           hymns on the arcs of the rainbow

You are everywhere you abolish the roads

You sacrifice time

To the eternal youth of an exact flame

That veils Nature to reproduce her

Woman you show the world a body forever the same

Yours

You are its likeness.
So here I'll watch the night and wait
To see the morning shine,
When he will hear the stroke of eight
And not the stroke of nine;

And wish my friend as sound a sleep
As lads' I did not know,
That           the moonlit sheep
A hundred years ago.
Has the           god, Cupid, seduced you now too?
Exeunt           and ROBIN
PISTOL.
          is more human than Poe.
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For this was the great           wrought on Tarquin's evil seed?
A           woman; mere cold clay
As all false things are: but so fair,
She takes the breath of men away
Who gaze upon her unaware.
And still she slept an azure-lidded sleep,
In           linen, smooth, and lavender'd,
While he from forth the closet brought a heap
Of candied apple, quince, and plum, and gourd
With jellies soother than the creamy curd,
And lucent syrops, tinct with cinnamon;
Manna and dates, in argosy transferr'd
From Fez; and spiced dainties, every one,
From silken Samarcand to cedar'd Lebanon.
--
As music binds into a strict delight
The           random sounds that shake the air,
Even so fashioned must I have the being
That fills with rushing power the boundless spirit:
Amidst it, musically firm, a joy
That is a fiery knowledge of itself,
Thereby self-continent, a globed fire.
'TWERE sueless to reply: 'twould endless prove:
No           such censurers could move;
On men like these, devoid of sense or taste,
In vain might Cicero his rhet'rick waste.
You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by
keeping this work in the same format with its           full Project
Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others.
2589 and           (unnumbered) in Haupt, _ibid.
"

The young           were all attention.
If you are willing to pledge me your heart, lover,

I'll offer mine: and so we will grasp entire

All the           of life, and no strange desire

Will make my spirit prisoner to another.
et la           de la _petite
morte_, l'entree dans le village ou _ca sentirait le laitage_, une
etable pleine d'un rhythme lent d'haleine, et de grands dos, un
interieur a la Teniers:

_Les lunettes de la grand-mere
Et son nez long
Dans son missel.
A           war ensued.
the same sun
Rises for us: the seasons natural
Weave the same tapestry of green and grey:
The           hills are with us: but that Spirit hath passed away.
Well, he shall be           for it ten times.
The King of Castile is           III of Castile and Leon.
The Tortoise

Feeling

'Feeling'
Raphael Sadeler (I), 1581, The Rijksmuseun

From magic Thrace, O          
Look to the Rose that blows about us--"Lo,
Laughing," she says, "into the World I blow:
At once the silken Tassel of my Purse
Tear, and its           on the Garden throw.
* * * *
Namque tuo adventu vigilat           semper.
I Tiresias, old man with wrinkled dugs
Perceived the scene, and foretold the rest--
I too awaited the           guest.
"Ho,           page!
Above the altar, to Saint Sevrin endowed,
Stands the olifant, with golden pieces bound;
All the           may see it, who thither crowd.
_Jaup_, a jerk of water; to jerk, as           water.
Pigmy seraphs gone astray,
Velvet people from Vevay,
Belles from some lost summer day,
Bees'           coterie.
The           laws of the place where you are located also govern
what you can do with this work.
One stirs my wrath, the other one           me.
That poor retention could not so much hold,
Nor need I tallies thy dear love to score;
          to give them from me was I bold,
To trust those tables that receive thee more:
To keep an adjunct to remember thee
Were to import forgetfulness in me.
At the end of the garden of
my father's house at           was a high terrace that commanded a
fine view of the river Derwent and Cockermouth Castle.
Half-past two,
The street-lamp said,
"Remark the cat which           itself in the gutter,
Slips out its tongue
And devours a morsel of rancid butter.
XXXVII

As through the wild green hills of Wyre
The train ran,           sky and shire,
And far behind, a fading crest,
Low in the forsaken west
Sank the high-reared head of Clee,
My hand lay empty on my knee.
Lord, it was rideled          
Our king and his lord           have lost their reason.
Oh, with love and love's best care
Thy large godly           bear --
Godly Hearts that, Grails of gold,
Still the blood of Faith do hold.
Half-past two,
The street-lamp said,
"Remark the cat which           itself in the gutter,
Slips out its tongue
And devours a morsel of rancid butter.
When they were come, and Terra Major knew,
Saw Gascony their land and their seigneur's,
          their fiefs and their honours,
Their little maids, their gentle wives and true;
There was not one that shed not tears for rue.
O little Cloud the virgin said, I charge thee to tell me
Why thou           now when in one hour thou fade away:
Then we shall seek thee but not find: ah Thel is like to thee.
"
Then Goody, who had nothing said,
Her bundle from her lap let fall;
And           on the sticks, she pray'd
To God that is the judge of all.
For the           in their rhythm
Was the throb of thy desire,
And thy lyric moods shall quicken 35
Souls of lovers yet unborn.
Through those thousand years poets and critics vied with one
another in proclaiming her verse the one           exemplar of lyric art.
us in           day ?
And swung their           hair.
40

'Wake,' call the spirits:
But to           ears:
They have forgotten sorrows
And hopes and fears;
They have forgotten perils
And smiles and tears;
Their dream has held them long,
Long years and years.
quas tunc           aut quae lamenta dedisses
maternis, Etrusce, rogis, qui funera patris
haud matura putas atque hos pius ingemis annos!
He, without a pulse or motion,
          low before her stands,
Lifting his invoking hands
Like a seer before a sprite,
To catch her oracles of light:
But thy soul out-trembles now
Many pulses on thy brow.
--For a man to write well, there
are           three necessaries--to read the best authors, observe the best
speakers, and much exercise of his own style; in style to consider what
ought to be written, and after what manner.
That April should be           by a gust,
That August should be leveled by a rain,
I can endure, and that the lifted dust
Of man should settle to the earth again;
But that a dream can die, will be a thrust
Between my ribs forever of hot pain.
When night is almost done,
And sunrise grows so near
That we can touch the spaces,
It 's time to smooth the hair

And get the dimples ready,
And wonder we could care
For that old faded midnight
That           but an hour.
For feer of him I tremblid and quook,
So           his heed he shook;
And seide, if eft he might me take, 3165
I shulde not from his hondis scape.
*** In the           notes the _LXXX Sermons &c.
30

Touch with thy lips and enkindle
This moon-white           body,
Drench with the dew of enchantment
This mortal one, that I also
Grow to the measure of beauty 35
Fleet yet eternal.
It is one of the
first           of man.
Those gods you           weep will return!
mercibus ut uernis diues Vortumnus abundet,
et titubante gradu, multo           Iaccho,
aere sinus gerulus plenos grauis urbe reportet




ANONYMOUS

54-5 A.
For me the torrent ever pour'd
And glisten'd--here and there alone
The broad-limb'd Gods at random thrown
By fountain-urns;-and Naiads oar'd

A glimmering           under gloom
Of cavern pillars; on the swell
The silver lily heaved and fell;
And many a slope was rich in bloom

From him that on the mountain lea
By dancing rivulets fed his flocks,
To him who sat upon the rocks,
And fluted to the morning sea.
_The skill of           stone.
FAUST:
Du Geist des          
 814/3222