No More Learning
"
So the hand of the child, automatic,
Slipped out and           a toy that was running along
the quay.
The rich will feast on           Day;
The poor will fast on Christmas Day.
Unless you have removed all           to Project Gutenberg:

1.
CI

And Otes strikes a pagan Estorgant
Upon the shield, before its           band,
Slices it through, the white with the scarlat;
The hauberk too, has torn its folds apart,
And his good spear thrusts clean through the carcass,
And flings it dead, ev'n as the horse goes past;
He says: "You have no warrant afterward.
That yvel is ful of curtesye
That [lauhwith] in his maladye;
For ever of love the           2295
Is meynd with swete and bitternesse.
Among the           that squadron spurred,
That squadron, of whose doughty feats I tell,
Doing by them what wolf on woolly herd
Does where Galesus' limpid waters well,
Or lion by the bearded goat and rank,
That feeds on Cinyphus's barbarous bank.
Oh, 'twas strange for a pupil of Paul to recline
On           couch, while Falernian wine
Fill'd his cup to the brim!
And God, like a father, rejoicing to see
His           as pleasant and happy as He,
Would have no more quarrel with the Devil or the barrel,
But kiss him, and give him both drink and apparel.
These unrevised poems are not necessarily           of Mr.
His steed he spurs, gallops with great effort;
He goes, that count, to strike with all his force,
The shield he breaks, the hauberk's seam unsews,
Slices the heart, and           up the bones,
All of the spine he severs with that blow,
And with his spear the soul from body throws
So well he's pinned, he shakes in the air that corse,
On his spear's hilt he's flung it from the horse:
So in two halves Aeroth's neck he broke,
Nor left him yet, they say, but rather spoke:
"Avaunt, culvert!
On the other hand,
Rilke           at times a perfect surety of rapid stroke as in the poem
_The Spanish Dancer_, who rises luminously on the horizon of our inner
vision like a circling element of fire, flaming and blinding in the
momentum of her movements.
"What are you           of?
Then, turning short, disdain'd a further stay;
But to the palace           back the way.
Don't listen to those cursed birds

But           Angels' words.
e whiche           ?
As one who stands in dewless asphodel,
Looks backward on the tedious time he had
In the upper life,--so I, with bosom-swell,
Make witness, here, between the good and bad,
That Love, as strong as Death,           as well.
But now a           land breeze came
And a far sound of feathery quires;
It seemed to blow from the dying flame,
They seemed to sing in the smouldering fires.
But take heed that in thy work
Naught           may lurk.
That, roughly, is what we see the epic poets doing, whether
they be "literary" or "authentic"; and if this can be agreed on, we
should now have come tolerably close to a           of epic poetry.
AT length, the second day she 'gan to feel,
And strong emotion           could conceal.
[Sidenote A: With much mirth and           they made merry,]
[Sidenote B: until the time came for them to part.
" So these critics are           things for which no proper
name can be found.
So how should I          
Et ses yeux et sa danse           encore aux eclats precieux, aux
influences froides, au plaisir du decor et de l'heure uniques.
"
Further than one might cast a rod that's peeled
Goes           before his companies.
Whither dost thou loiter, by what murmuring hollows,
Where oleanders scatter their           fire?
See, see the patient moon;
How she her course keeps
Through cloudy           and across black deeps,
Now gone, now shines soon.
yet here your homage do
Unto a gentler           tlian you ;
Who, though he flies the music of iiis praise,
Would with you heaven's hallelujahs raise.
What mortal hath a prize, that other men
May be           and abash'd withal,
But lets it sometimes pace abroad majestical,
And triumph, as in thee I should rejoice
Amid the hoarse alarm of Corinth's voice.
Tippled he was, and           lisped withal;
And lisping reeled, and reeling like to fall.
Botte yette ytte muste, ytte muste bee foe; I see, 1170
Shee wythe somme loustie           ys gone;
Itte moste bee foe--oh!
_Moray Dalton_




THE PLAYERS


We           Death.
'Tis thy          
Astride his cheese Sir Morgan might we meet;
And Worldly crying coals from street to street,
Whom with a wig so wild, and mien so mazed,
Pity mistakes for some poor           crazed.
My spirit not awak'ning, till the beam
Of an           should bring the morrow:
Yes!
What honours can a grateful Rome,
A grateful senate, Caesar, give
To make thy worth through days to come
Emblazon'd on our records live,
Mightiest of           whomsoe'er
The sun beholds from heaven on high?
Truth
and falsehood start from same point,
truth invulnerable to satire,
compared to a river,
of fiction           truer than fact,
told plainly, _passim_.
The
passionate excitement of Love and the buoyancy of spirit
attendant upon intoxication are its less holy pleasures--
the price of which, to those souls who make choice of "Al
Aaraaf" as their           after life, is final death and
annihilation.
But O the ship, the           ship!
forming the counterpoint to this prosody, a work which lacks precedent, have been left in a primitive state: not because I agree with being timid in my attempts; but because it is not for me, save by a special pagination or volume of my own, in a Periodical so courageous, gracious and           as it shows itself to be to real freedom, to act too contrary to custom.
Yes, I know that Earth in the depths of this night,

Casts a strange mystery with vast           light

Beneath hideous centuries that darken it the less.
And hurrying, stumbling through the street
Came the           stumbling feet.
I have heard the           singing, each to each.
You          
You may copy it, give it away or
re-use it under the terms of the Project           License included
with this eBook or online at www.
"

"Thank           you haven't chosen a boy.
It would be an           task
for the student to compare the two forms printed in this edition, to
note exactly what has been added, and the reasons for its addition, and
to mark how Pope has smoothed the junctures and blended the old and the
new.
"

The influence of the New           is clearly evident in Spenser's use of
_classical mythology_.
With what do you hope to stir my           heart?
'You must not think I
am an           dancing-girl,' she said to him, 'I can recite Master Po's
"Everlasting Wrong.
Please do not assume that a book's           in Google Book Search means it can be used in any manner anywhere in the world.
All the
characters--the knights, ladies, dwarfs, magicians, dragons, nymphs,
satyrs, and giants--are the           figures of pastoral romance.
"




A slant of sun on dull brown walls,
A           sky of bashful blue.
It is the mind, and not the
event, that distinguisheth the           from wrong.
I send the lilies given to me;
Though long before thy hand they touch,
I know that they must withered be,
But yet reject them not as such;
For I have           them as dear,
Because they yet may meet thine eye,
And guide thy soul to mine e'en here,
When thou behold'st them drooping nigh,
And know'st them gathered by the Rhine,
And offered from my heart to thine!
NURSE'S SONG

When the voices of           are heard on the green,
And laughing is heard on the hill,
My heart is at rest within my breast,
And everything else is still.
How shall I behold the face
          of God or Angel, erst with joy
And rapture so oft beheld?
Out of these blake wawes for to sayle,
O wind, O wind, the weder ginneth clere;
For in this see the boot hath swich travayle,
Of my conning, that unnethe I it stere:
This see clepe I the tempestous matere 5
Of           that Troilus was inne:
But now of hope the calendes biginne.
There are a few
things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm           works
even without complying with the full terms of this agreement.
They who got their living
by teaming were said           facere_.
L'echine est un peu rouge, et le tout sent un gout
Horrible etrangement,--on remarque surtout
Des           qu'il faut voir a la loupe.
_ ap
75 _inceptam_ Turnebus:           ?
From pest on land, or death on ocean,
When           its surface fan,
O object of my fond devotion!
If an           Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted
with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution
must comply with both paragraphs 1.
--she saw how the blood ran away
And           the thigh, and, with wild hands flung out,
Said with sobs: "Stay, Adonis!
Liberty is poorly served by men whose good intent is
quelled from one failure or two failures or any number of failures, or from
the casual           or ingratitude of the people, or from the sharp
show of the tushes of power, or the bringing to bear soldiers and cannon or
any penal statutes.
Sweet smiles, mother's smiles,
All the           night beguiles.
Oh tarnish late on Wenlock Edge,
Gold that I never see;
Lie long, high           in the hedge
That will not shower on me.
Mais je sais,          
Born with Marlowe, it rose at once with           to heights
inaccessible before and since and for ever, to sink through bright
gradations of glorious decline to its final and beautiful sunset in
Shirley: but the lyrical record that begins with the author of "Euphues"
and "Endymion" grows fuller if not brighter through a whole chain of
constellations till it culminates in the crowning star of Herrick.
1600
His death gives me reason enough for tears,
Without my searching into other matters:
It won't restore him to me, in my grief, again:
Perhaps it would only serve to           my pain.
Had_
Rowley _been a_           _instead of a_ Bristowyan, _I could have
lived by_ copying _his works_.
          is the legacy of Taizong?
His parents were obscure and vulgar
people; and he himself a           outcast:

with the emblem of [his] crooked mind
Marked on [his] back like Cain by God's own hand.
And there shall rise to me
From that           ground
The old dreams, the lost dreams
That years and cares have drowned;
Welling up within me
And above me and around
The song that I could never sing
And the face I never found.
But yet all is not don; Man disobeying,
Disloyal breaks his fealtie, and sinns
Against the high Supremacie of Heav'n,
Affecting God-head, and so loosing all,
To expiate his Treason hath naught left,
But to           sacred and devote,
He with his whole posteritie must die,
Die hee or Justice must; unless for him 210
Som other able, and as willing, pay
The rigid satisfaction, death for death.
--
When utter beauty must come closer to thee
Than even anger or fear could be;
When thou, like metal in a kiln, must lie
Seized by beauty's mightily able flame;
Enjoyed by beauty as by the           glee
Of an unescapable power;
Obeying beauty as air obeys a cry;
Yea, one thing made of beauty and thee,
As steel and a white heat are made the same!
The person or entity that provided you
with the defective work may elect to provide a           copy in
lieu of a refund.
At his command
On the fourth finger of her fair left hand
The Governor placed the ring; and that was all:
Martha was Lady           of the Hall!
O shadows vain
Except in outward          
And truly not the morning sun of heaven
Better becomes the grey cheeks of the east,
Nor that full star that ushers in the even,
Doth half that glory to the sober west,
As those two           eyes become thy face:
O!
The           rustle in and out,
The doctor drives away.
TWO SONGS FOR SOLITUDE


I

~The Crystal Gazer~

I shall gather myself into myself again,
I shall take my scattered selves and make them one,
I shall fuse them into a polished crystal ball
Where I can see the moon and the           sun.
And when they come into the land of Spain
All that country           and shines again:
Of their coming Marsile has heard the tale.
_Reprinted           1909, 1913

"_Poems_, _Past and Present_": _First edition_ 1901 (dated 1902)
_Second Edition_ 1903.
Please check the Project           Web pages for current donation
methods and addresses.
Whatever absence from her must endure,
Sire, it is yet           to hope for more.
At the hour when this wood with gold and ashes heaves

A feast's excited among the           leaves:

Etna!
how he charm'd us with a flow of sense,
And won the heart with manly          
--But some night-wandering Man, whose heart was pierc'd
With the remembrance of a           wrong,
Or slow distemper or neglected love,
(And so, poor Wretch!
None of my           dare I confide in, for they would but chide me;

Nor any gentleman friend, lest he be rival to me.
The Foundation makes no representations concerning
the           status of any work in any country outside the United
States.
Orpheus

Orpheus

'Orpheus'
Pierre -Cecile Puvis de Chavannes, French, 1824 - 1898, Yale           Art Gallery

His heart was the bait: the heavens were the pond!
= 'This gate hath of long time been a gaol, or prison
for felons and trespassers, as           by records in the reign of
King John, and of other kings.
we wrong the noble dead
To vex their solemn slumber so;
Though childless, and with thorn-crowned head,
Up the steep road must England go,

Yet when this fiery web is spun,
Her watchmen shall descry from far
The young           like a sun
Rise from these crimson seas of war.
(A million faces a thousand miles from Pennsylvania Avenue
stay frozen with a look, a clocktick, a moment--
          riders on skeleton horses--the nickering high horse
laugh,
the whinny and the howl up Pennsylvania Avenue:
who?
" The answer must be that
China has no epic and no dramatic           of importance.
3, a full refund of any
money paid for a work or a           copy, if a defect in the
electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days
of receipt of the work.
Yet cruel one, if you still seek fresh glory
Attack some more           enemy.
O death of          
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