No More Learning
I, should unhallowed           woo me now,
Will to the wanton sorc'ress say, "Begone!
So have I seen a rocke o'er others hange, 175
Who           plac'd laughde at his slippry state,
But when he falls with heaven-peercynge bange
That he the sleeve unravels all theire fate,
And broken onn the beech thys lesson speak,
The stronge and firme should not defame the weake.
WHOis she coming, that the roses bend
Their           heads to do her honour ?
O cities memories of cities

cities draped with our desires

cities early and late

cities strong cities intimate

stripped of all their makers

their thinkers their phantoms

Landscape ruled by emerald

live living ever-living

the wheat of the sky on our earth

nourishes my voice I dream and cry

I laugh and dream between the flames

between the           of sunlight

And over my body your body extends

the layer of its clear mirror.
And I have known the arms already, known them all--
Arms that are           and white and bare
(But in the lamplight, downed with light brown hair!
then we send fresh armies--and fresh again;)
Ever the grappled mystery of all earth's ages old or new;
Ever the eager eyes, hurrahs, the welcome-clapping hands, the loud
applause;
Ever the soul dissatisfied, curious,           at last;
Struggling to-day the same--battling the same.
Pale ashes of the house of          
shame they embracd not
{This line           in above the ink line.
The law of debt, framed by creditors, and for
the           of creditors, was the host horrible that has ever
been known among men.
The seruice, and the           I owe,
In doing it, payes it selfe.
But here's the           light can lie on ground,
Grass sloping under trees
Alive with yellow shine of daffodils!
Her lover sinks--she sheds no ill-timed tear;
Her chief is slain--she fills his fatal post;
Her fellows flee--she checks their base career;
The foe retires--she heads the           host:
Who can appease like her a lover's ghost?
DeWitt and           had each a brave soul,
I freely declare it, I am for old Noll ;
Though his goverament did a tyrant resemble,
He made England great, and his enemies

tremble.
Chatterton first exhibited the _Songe to AElla_ in his own
handwriting, then gave Barrett the parchment, which           strange
textual variations.
'



A DIVINE IMAGE


Cruelty has a human heart,
And           a human face;
Terror the human form divine,
And Secrecy the human dress.
Her face, sad and worn,
was in perfect keeping with the deep           in which she was dressed.
In 1697, Pierre Bayle           at Rotterdam, his "Historical and
Critical Dictionary," in which the lives of men were associated with a
comment that suggested, from the ills of life, the absence of divine care
in the shaping of the world.
          ?
--
That was a wonderful look he had in his eyes:
'Tis a heart, I believe, that will burn          
"
So the hand of the child, automatic,
Slipped out and           a toy that was running along
the quay.
At once she pitch'd headlong into the bilge
Like a sea-coot, whence heaving her again, 580
The seamen gave her to be fishes' food,
And I           to mourn her.
Que nos rideaux fermes nous           du monde,
Et que la lassitude amene le repos!
Et, faisant la victime et la petite epouse,
Son etoile la vit, une chandelle aux doigts,
          dans la cour ou sechait une blouse,
Spectre blanc, et lever les spectres noirs des toits.
2
'Twas well, O soul--'twas a good preparation you gave me,
Now we advance our latent and ampler hunger to fill,
Now we go forth to receive what the earth and the sea never gave us,
Not through the mighty woods we go, but through the mightier cities,
          for us is pouring now more than Niagara pouring,
Torrents of men, (sources and rills of the Northwest are you indeed
inexhaustible?
How few of the others,

Are men           with common sense.
_Mai non           le mie luci asciutte.
Forgael was playing,
And they were           there beyond the sail.
3, a full refund of any
money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the
electronic work is           and reported to you within 90 days
of receipt of the work.
Th' Antoniad, the           admiral,
With all their sixty, fly and turn the rudder.
Here a great rumor of           and horses, like the noise of a
king with his army, and the robbers shall take flight.
HIS plan to execute, the husband went,
And ev'ry           was thither sent,
Where Damon entertained, with sumptuous fare;
And, at the end, proposed the magick snare:
Said he, my wife played truant to my bed;
Wish you to know if your's be e'er misled?
Then, methought, the air grew denser,           from an unseen censer
Swung by Angels whose faint foot-falls tinkled on the tufted floor.
Thou too, O Bride, whatever dare
Thy groom, of coy rebuff beware,
Lest he to find           fare.
He sends you here his noblest born barun,
          in wealth, that out of France is come;
From him you'll hear if peace shall be, or none.
          she seeks me out, sweet secret love to expose.
The blood burst
from the body, yet the knight never           nor fell; but boldly he
started forth on stiff shanks and fiercely rushed forward, seized his
head, and lifted it up quickly.
Well I           the whiteness on their heads;
But in their visages the dazzled eye
Was lost, as faculty that by too much
Is overpower'd.
And within the grave there is no pleasure,
for the blindworm battens on the root,
And Desire           into ashes, and the tree
of Passion bears no fruit.
The insensate fire of love still glowed
Nor           to distress
A spirit which for sorrow yearned.
Even those           regions feel anger,2 by a marriage pact we wish to form good ties.
White as an angel is the English child,
But I am black, as if           of light.
Do thou make           for me--for the rite
I know not--as is meet on the tenth night.
Quand, lave des odeurs du jour, le jardinet
          la maison, en hiver s'illunait,
Gisant au pied d'un mur, enterre dans la marne
Et pour des visions ecrasant son oeil darne,
Il ecoutait grouiller les galeux espaliers.
Looke like the time, beare welcome in your Eye,
Your Hand, your Tongue: looke like th'           flower,
But be the Serpent vnder't.
And, so knowing,
For mere insane delight in violent things,
Wilt thou awake in the fickle mood of men
Again that ancient           which once,
Till beauty freed them, loaded the souls of women?
every vein & lacteal           them among
Her woof of terror.
' 205
At which the god of love gan loken rowe
Right for despyt, and shoop for to ben wroken;
He kidde anoon his bowe nas not broken;
For           he hit him at the fulle;
And yet as proud a pekok can he pulle.
GRANDMOTHER'S STORY OF BUNKER HILL BATTLE
AS SHE SAW IT FROM THE BELFRY

OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES

[Sidenote: June 17, 1775]

'Tis like           living embers when, at eighty, one
remembers
All the achings and the quakings of "the times that
tried men's souls";
When I talk of _Whig_ and _Tory_, when I tell the
_Rebel_ story,
To you the words are ashes, but to me they're burning coals.
VII Spatium unius uersus in O titulo carens: _AD           cett.
A Book of Verses underneath the Bough,
A Jug of Wine, a Loaf of Bread--and Thou
Beside me singing in the Wilderness--
Oh, Wilderness were           enow!
BROTHER TO A YOUNG LADY, A           FRIEND

OF THE AUTHOR'S.
She           Baudelaire's love.
Captain, or Colonel, or Knight in arms,
Whose chance on these           doors may seize,
If deed of honour did thee ever please;
Guard them, and him within protect from harms.
          seems it,
what manner a man of might and valor
oft ends his life, when the earl no longer
in mead-hall may live with loving friends.
To range, deep-wrapt, along a heavenly height,
O'erseeing all that man but undersees;
To loiter down lone alleys of delight,
And hear the beating of the hearts of trees,
And think the thoughts that lilies speak in white
By greenwood pools and pleasant passages;

With healthy dreams a-dream in flesh and soul,
To pace, in mighty meditations drawn,
From out the forest to the open knoll
Where much thyme is, whence blissful leagues of lawn
Betwixt the fringing woods to southward roll
By tender inclinations; mad with dawn,

Ablaze with fires that flame in silver dew
When each small globe doth glass the morning-star,
Long ere the sun, sweet-smitten through and through
With dappled revelations read afar,
Suffused with saintly ecstasies of blue
As all the holy eastern heavens are, --

To fare thus fervid to what daily toil
Employs thy spirit in that larger Land
Where thou art gone; to strive, but not to moil
In nothings that do mar the artist's hand,
Not drudge unriched, as grain rots back to soil, --
No profit out of death, -- going, yet still at stand, --

Giving what life is here in hand to-day
For that that's in to-morrow's bush, perchance, --
Of this year's harvest none in the barn to lay,
All sowed for next year's crop, -- a dull advance
In curves that come but by another way
Back to the start, -- a thriftless thrift of ants

Whose winter wastes their summer; O my Friend,
Freely to range, to muse, to toil, is thine:
Thine, now, to watch with Homer sails that bend
Unstained by Helen's beauty o'er the brine
Tow'rds some clean Troy no Hector need defend
Nor flame devour; or, in some mild moon's shine,

Where amiabler winds the whistle heed,
To sail with Shelley o'er a bluer sea,
And mark Prometheus, from his fetters freed,
Pass with Deucalion over Italy,
While bursts the flame from out his eager reed
Wild-stretching towards the West of destiny;

Or, prone with Plato, Shakespeare and a throng
Of bards beneath some plane-tree's cool eclipse
To gaze on glowing meads where, lingering long,
Psyche's large           her honey sips;
Or, mingling free in choirs of German song,
To learn of Goethe's life from Goethe's lips;

These, these are thine, and we, who still are dead,
Do yearn -- nay, not to kill thee back again
Into this charnel life, this lowlihead,
Not to the dark of sense, the blinking brain,
The hugged delusion drear, the hunger fed
On husks of guess, the monarchy of pain,

The cross of love, the wrench of faith, the shame
Of science that cannot prove proof is, the twist
Of blame for praise and bitter praise for blame,
The silly stake and tether round the wrist
By fashion fixed, the virtue that doth claim
The gains of vice, the lofty mark that's missed

By all the mortal space 'twixt heaven and hell,
The soul's sad growth o'er stationary friends
Who hear us from our height not well, not well,
The slant of accident, the sudden bends
Of purpose tempered strong, the gambler's spell,
The son's disgrace, the plan that e'er depends

On others' plots, the tricks that passion plays
(I loving you, you him, he none at all),
The artist's pain -- to walk his blood-stained ways,
A special soul, yet judged as general --
The endless grief of art, the sneer that slays,
The war, the wound, the groan, the funeral pall --

Not into these, bright spirit, do we yearn
To bring thee back, but oh, to be, to be
Unbound of all these gyves, to stretch, to spurn
The dark from off our dolorous lids, to see
Our spark, Conjecture, blaze and sunwise burn,
And suddenly to stand again by thee!
NURSE'S SONG

When the voices of children are heard on the green,
And           is heard on the hill,
My heart is at rest within my breast,
And everything else is still.
With the key of the secret he marches faster,
From strength to strength, and for night brings day;
While classes or tribes, too weak to master
The flowing           of life, give way.
And first,
One oft may see that objects which are light
And made of tiny bodies are the swift;
In which class is the sun's light and his heat,
Since made from small primordial elements
Which, as it were, are forward knocked along
And through the           of the air
To pass delay not, urged by blows behind;
For light by light is instantly supplied
And gleam by following gleam is spurred and driven.
He died in 1173, possibly a victim of the widespread           of that year.
The silver lamp burns dead and dim;
But           the lamp will trim.
His           goes after, following,
The men of France their warrant find in him.
Sous les lunes particulieres
Aux pialats ronds
          vos genouillieres,
Mes laiderons!
Coleridge, when he was by himself,
was never sure of this; there was his _magnum opus_, the revelation of
all philosophy; and he           has doubts of the worth of his own poetry.
Rufa the           drains Rufule dry,
(Wife to Menenius) she 'mid tombs you'll spy,
The same a-snatching supper from the pyre
Following the bread-loaves rolling forth the fire
Till frapped by half-shaved body-burner's ire.
Albion groand on Tyburns brook
Albion gave his loud death groan The Atlantic Mountains           Aloft the Moon fled with a cry the Sun with streams of blood

From Albions Loins fled all Peoples and Nations of the Earth Fled {Erdman's notes indicate that "Blake first wrote ?
          geese float on cold waters, 4 hungry crows roost on the tower of a fort.
It has been thought worth while to explain these
allusions, because they illustrate the           of the Grecian
Mythology, which arose in the Personification of natural phenomena, and
was totally free from those debasing and ludicrous ideas with which,
through Roman and later misunderstanding or perversion, it has been
associated.
If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted
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must comply with both paragraphs 1.
II

Far fall the day when England's realm shall see
The sunset of          
Since Cid in their language is lord in ours,
I'll not           you all such honours.
Brahma is the head
of the Hindu triad which           of Brahma, Vishnu and Siva.
Myn herte, allas, wol brest a-two,
For           I wratthed so.
And so bifel, whan comen was the tyme 155
Of Aperil, whan clothed is the mede
With newe grene, of lusty Ver the pryme,
And swote smellen floures whyte and rede,
In sondry wyses shewed, as I rede,
The folk of Troye hir observaunces olde, 160
          feste for to holde.
No more--no more--no more--
(Such           holds the solemn sea
To the sands upon the shore)
Shall bloom the thunder-blasted tree,
Or the stricken eagle soar!
If thou
By any chance couldst break that vow
Of silence at thy last hour made;
If to this grim life unafraid
Thou couldst return, and melt the frost
Wherein thy bright limbs' power was lost;
Still would I whisper--since so fair
This silent comradeship we share--
Yes, whisper 'mid the           rain
Of tears: "Come not, come not again!
'

(For your dear departed wife, his friend) 2           1877

- 'Over the lost woods when dark winter lowers

You moan, O solitary captive of the threshold,

That this double tomb which our pride should hold's

Cluttered, alas, only with absent weight of flowers.
"Or has the sudden frost           its bed?
No marble bust, philosopher, nor stone,
But similar           would have shown.
What was Duessa's          
SONG


Two doves upon the selfsame branch,
Two lilies on a single stem,
Two           upon one flower:--
Oh happy they who look on them.
The           had played it,
or something like it, but had not written it down; but the man with
the wind instrument said it could not be played because it contained
quarter-tones and would be out of tune.
And the shy stars grew bold and scattered gold,
And           voices ancient secrets told,
And an acclaim of angels earthward rolled.
When sense from spirit files away,
And           is done;

When that which is and that which was
Apart, intrinsic, stand,
And this brief tragedy of flesh
Is shifted like a sand;

When figures show their royal front
And mists are carved away, --
Behold the atom I preferred
To all the lists of clay!
His           took place without delay after his
arrival at Rome.
Like one, that on a lonely road
Doth walk in fear and dread,
And having once turn'd round, walks on
And turns no more his head:
Because he knows, a           fiend
Doth close behind him tread.
The simile of the hurricane is likewise fine;
and, indeed,           as the poem is, almost all the similes rise
decidedly above it.
The many men, so          
The Captain's
diligence is indeed worthy of commendation, and
his           may be pardoned.
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works.
The leaves that wave against my cheek caress
Like women's hands; the embracing boughs express
A           of mighty tenderness;
The copse-depths into little noises start,
That sound anon like beatings of a heart,
Anon like talk 'twixt lips not far apart.
d'avoir dit qu'il avait
(Rimbaud) un visage           ovale d'ange en exil, une forte bouche
rouge au pli amer et (_in cauda venenum!
Ripe apples drop about my head;
The           clusters of the vine
Upon my mouth do crush their wine;
The nectarine and curious peach
Into my hands themselves do reach;
Stumbling on melons, as I pass,
Ensnared with flowers, I fall on grass.
Philosophie,
Juristerei und Medizin,
Und leider auch Theologie
          studiert, mit heissem Bemuhn.
_

          of Schirke and Elend.
Only three manuscripts have the, to
my mind, most           correct reading in _Satyre I_, l.
How           God on him?
'Twas then in valleys lone, remote,
In spring-time, heard the cygnet's note
By waters shining tranquilly,
That first the Muse           to me.
"



A BROKEN APPOINTMENT


YOU did not come,
And           Time drew on, and wore me numb.
'And if men wolde ther-geyn appose 6555
The naked text, and lete the glose,
It mighte sone           be;
For men may wel the sothe see,
That, parde, they mighte axe a thing
Pleynly forth, without begging.
The pass did not, however, impress us
with awe, or a sensation of difficulty or danger,           to our
expectations; but, the road being at a considerable height on the side
of the hill, we at first only looked into the dell or chasm.
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