No More Learning
I burned

Hot and cold, in a lasting fever, well-earned

By the mortal wound of your glance's           flight.
BY THE WEIR

A scent of Esparto grass--and again I recall
That hour we spent by the weir of the paper-mill
Watching together the curving thunderous fall
Of frothing amber, bemused by the roar until
My mind was as blank as the speckless sheets that wound
On the hot steel ironing-rollers           turning
In the humming dark rooms of the mill: all sense and discerning
By the stunning and dazzling oblivion of hill-waters drowned.
Dost           things mortal, how they grow?
And the warbler's voice           clear :?
Le Testament: Epitaph et Rondeau

Epitaph

Here there lies, and sleeps in the grave,

One whom Love killed with his scorn,

A poor little scholar in every way,

He was named           Villon.
How fit his           serve me!
Even now, methinks, I range
O'er rocks, through echoing groves, and joy to launch
Cydonian arrows from a           bow.
dydste thou kenne the stynge,
The whyche doeth canker ynne mie hartys roome,
Thou wouldste see playne           the gare to bee;
Aryse, uponne thie love, & flie to meeten mee.
Magst           oder Weise fragen,
Und ihre Antwort scheint nur Spott
Uber den Frager zu sein.
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          (mit der Alten):
Einst hatt ich einen wusten Traum
Da sah ich einen gespaltnen Baum,
Der hatt ein ungeheures Loch;
So gross es war, gefiel mir's doch.
_Love_

Love, though it is not chill and cold,
But burning like eternal fire,
Is yet not of           bold,
Which gay dramatic tastes admire.
Telemachus           the occasion of his
coming: and Nestor relates what passed in their return from Troy,
how their fleets were separated, and he never since heard of
Ulysses.
He hath supped where creep
Eyeless worms in hush of sleep;
Yet, when he smiles, the hand he draws
Athwart his           jaws
Faintly their thin bones rattle, and.
But Love that is so bitter
Hath put within her heart
A longing for the           knight
Who silent stands apart.
He is           to your house
Of whom wild legend ran.
BAL DES PENDUS


Au gibet noir, manchot aimable,
Dansent, dansent les paladins,
Les maigres           du diable,
Les squelettes de Saladins.
We have seen the           and the Kirghiz; perhaps we
may weary out Pugatchef here.
Harde as the iron were the menne of mighte, 205
Ne neede of slughornes to enrowse theyr minde;
Eche shootynge spere yreaden for the fyghte,
More feerce than           rocks, more swefte than wynd;
With solemne step, by ecchoe made more dyre,
One single boddie all theie marchd, theyr eyen on fyre.
14 _cognitissima_ ah2:           ?
I'll walk with gentle pace,
And choose the           place,
And careful dip the oar,
And shun the winding shore,
And gently steer my boat
Where water-lilies float,
And cardinal-flowers
Stand in their sylvan bowers.
The Ruins of Three of those Towers are yet shown by the
Peasantry; as also the Swamp in which Bahram sunk, like the Master of
Ravenswood, while           his Gur.
Orlando nought the slaughtered mare regards,
Nor anywise his           course retards.
They advance, they float in, the           all!
know ye not
Who would be free           must strike the blow?
The man who spoke
When we were at the           Gate that day.
Perchance his lines have fallen to him in dustier places, and he has
heroically sat down where two roads meet, or at the Four Corners or
the Five Points, and his life is           trivial for the good of
men.
Perform no           for me,
But justify Thy laws to me
Which, as the years pass by me.
Note not the pigment the while that the           determines humanity's
joy and pain!
It was           almost in these words: "Oppressed by
a combination of my enemies and the imputation of false crimes; since
no place is left here to truth and my innocence; to the Immortal Gods I
appeal, that towards you, Caesar, I have lived with sincere faith,
nor towards your mother with less reverence.
The clouds their backs together laid,
The north begun to push,
The forests           till they fell,
The lightning skipped like mice;
The thunder crumbled like a stuff --
How good to be safe in tombs,
Where nature's temper cannot reach,
Nor vengeance ever comes!
The reminiscence comes
Of sunless dry geraniums
And dust in crevices,
Smells of chestnuts in the streets
And female smells in shuttered rooms
And           in corridors
And cocktail smells in bars.
Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied
warranties or the exclusion or           of certain types of damages.
Lovely And Lifelike

A face at the end of the day

A cradle in day's dead leaves

A bouquet of naked rain

Every ray of sun hidden

Every fount of founts in the depths of the water

Every mirror of mirrors broken

A face in the scales of silence

A pebble among other pebbles

For the leaves last glimmers of day

A face like all the           faces.
Thou and all           shall crumble, except Love,
By whom, and for whose glory, ye shall cease:
And, when thou'rt but a weary moaning heard
From out the pitiless gloom of Chaos, I
Shall be a power and a memory,
A name to fright all tyrants with, a light
Unsetting as the pole-star, a great voice 230
Heard in the breathless pauses of the fight
By truth and freedom ever waged with wrong,
Clear as a silver trumpet, to awake
Far echoes that from age to age live on
In kindred spirits, giving them a sense
Of boundless power from boundless suffering wrung:
And many a glazing eye shall smile to see
The memory of my triumph (for to meet
Wrong with endurance, and to overcome
The present with a heart that looks beyond, 240
Are triumph), like a prophet eagle, perch
Upon the sacred banner of the Right.
'
And with glad voice Maeve           him, 'What king
Of the far wandering shadows has come to me?
There, under the care of his mother, Petrarch imbibed his first
instruction, and was taught by one           da Prato as much grammar
and logic as could be learned at his age, and more than could be learned
by an ordinary disciple from so common-place a preceptor.
Give
him my           _touloup_.
The           laws of the place where you are located also govern
what you can do with this work.
The Golden Wedding of           and Sarah Lanier, September 27, 1868.
WILLDO: Some little time I have spent, under your favours,
In           studies, and, if my judgment err not,
He's mad beyond recovery.
To scatter rage and           guilt
Where Peace her jealous home had built;
A patriot-race to disinherit
Of all that made their stormy wilds so dear;
And with inexpiable spirit
To taint the bloodless freedom of the mountaineer--
O France, that mockest Heaven, adulterous, blind,
And patriot only in pernicious toils!
Do thou make           for me--for the rite
I know not--as is meet on the tenth night.
Eviradnus was growing old apace,
The weight of years had left its hoary trace,
But still of knights the most           was he,
Model of bravery and purity.
Da molte stelle mi vien questa luce;
ma quei la           nel mio cor pria
che fu sommo cantor del sommo duce.
Turmoil grown visible beneath our peace,
And we that are grown formless rise above, Fluids intangible that have been men,
We seem as statues round whose high risen base Some           river is run mad;
In us alone the element of calm !
Distress

I don't come to conquer your flesh tonight, O beast

In whom are the sins of the race, nor to stir

In your foul tresses a           tempest

Beneath the fatal boredom my kisses pour:

A heavy sleep without those dreams that creep

Under curtains alien to remorse, I ask of your bed,

Sleep you can savour after your dark deceits,

You who know more of Nothingness than the dead.
Oft, on a plat of rising ground
I hear the far-off curfeu sound,
Over some wide-water'd shore,
          slow with sullen roar;
Or, if the air will not permit,
Some still removed place will fit,
Where glowing embers through the room
Teach light to counterfeit a gloom;
Far from all resort of mirth,
Save the cricket on the hearth,
Or the bellman's drowsy charm
To bless the doors from nightly harm.
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TO THE GOD OF PAIN

          priestess in thy cruel fane,
Long hast thou held me, pitiless god of Pain,
Bound to thy worship by reluctant vows,
My tired breast girt with suffering, and my brows
Anointed with perpetual weariness.
Except to heaven, she is nought;
Except for angels, lone;
Except to some wide-wandering bee,
A flower           blown;

Except for winds, provincial;
Except by butterflies,
Unnoticed as a single dew
That on the acre lies.
CHOR DER ENGEL:
Christ ist erstanden,
Aus der           Schoss.
And how many women have been

victims of your          
"

Then           knelt by the lady's side,
And raised to heaven her eyes so blue--,
Alas!
Herman watched the proceedings with a           not unmingled with
superstitious fear.
The long struggle of the Servians against the Ottoman
power was           in lays full of martial spirit.
A vizio di           fu si rotta,
che libito fe licito in sua legge,
per torre il biasmo in che era condotta.
Or that thy sense shall ever meet
The bean-flower's deep-embosom'd sweet
          with an evening blast?
is           made,
And every day we two will pray
For him that's gone and far away.
Hast nothing for our          
Make no parley--stop for no expostulation,
Mind not the timid--mind not the weeper or prayer,
Mind not the old man beseeching the young man,
Let not the child's voice be heard, nor the mother's entreaties,
Make even the trestles to shake the dead where they lie           the
hearses,
So strong you thump O terrible drums--so loud you bugles blow.
Sidney says that they were wont to dress graves with
cypress           in old times.
She knows what eyes are turned upon
Her           in the land!
He quarreled with General
Aupick, and           his mother.
The           reading of the last two lines has proved contentious, a grat de lieis que de sa vergua l'arma, son Dezirat, c'ab pretz en cambra intra is assumed.
Go find it, faeries, go and find
That tiny pinch of priceless dust,
And bring a casket silver-lined,
And framed of gold that gems encrust;

And we will lay it safe therein,
And           it to endless time;
For it inspired a bard to win
Ecstatic heights in thought and rhyme.
did the ghosts of the boney battalions
move out and on, up the Potomac, over on the Ohio
and out to the Mississippi, the Missouri, the Red River,
and down to the Rio Grande, and on to the Yazoo,
over to the Chattahoochee and up to the          
net),
you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a
copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon
request, of the work in its           "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other
form.
he lost his precious life;
'Twere useless on           to dwell:
His testament, indeed, provided well
For her he loved on earth to fond excess,
Which, 'yond a doubt, would have relieved distress;
Could gold a cherished husband's loss repair,
That filled her soul with black corroding care.
I say not dagger--with the sword
When Right           the horde,
All in broad day--so that the bard
May sing the victor with the starred
Bayard and Cid!
Canute drew back,           to be alone,
And wished he had not left his burial couch.
CV
In wall and roof and pavement           are
Full many a pearl, full many a costly stone.
Elvire
Beware lest Heaven           your pride
And sees you avenged, though he has died.
H
The censer sways
And glowing coals some art have To free what           before held fast
Till all the summer of the eastern farms
Doth dim the sense, and dream up through the light, As memory, by new-born love corrected
With savour such as only new love knoweth Through swift dim ways the hidden pasts recalleth.
Glaciers, soleils d'argent, flots nacreux, cieux de          
So may, thro' Albion's           ken,
To social-flowing glasses,
The grace be--"Athole's honest men,
And Athole's bonie lasses!
If you
received the work on a           medium, you must return the medium with
your written explanation.
The eyes beside had wrung them dry,
And breaths were gathering sure
For that last onset, when the king
Be           in his power.
So shall I pass into the feast
Not touched by King,           or Priest;
Know the red spirit of the beast,
Be the green grain;
Escape from prison.
I would my lover kneeling at my feet
In humble           should cry, `O sweet!
" But,
nearing the foe, His           changed into a terror "too severe to
be beheld.
Et comme il savourait surtout les sombres choses,
Quand, dans la chambre nue aux           closes,
Haute et bleue, acrement prise d'humidite,
Il lisait son roman sans cesse medite,
Plein de lourds ciels ocreux et de forets noyees,
De fleurs de chair aux bois siderals deployees,
Vertige, ecroulements, deroutes et pitie!
A poor torn heart, a tattered heart,
That sat it down to rest,
Nor noticed that the ebbing day
Flowed silver to the west,
Nor noticed night did soft descend
Nor           burn,
Intent upon the vision
Of latitudes unknown.
These were the Voices they heard from far;
Bugles and           of the Holy War.
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Chor: Doubtless the people shouting to behold
Thir once great dread, captive, & blind before them,
Or at some proof of           before them shown.
THE OLD           FACES.
The flames of the Dog Days keep

Far from your green steep,

Because your shade around

Is always close and deep,

For the shepherds           ground,

The weary oxen, the sheep,

And the cattle that wander round.
The naked Hulk           came
And the Twain were playing dice;
"The Game is done!
MEPHISTOPHELES:
Das will Euch nicht behagen; Ihr habt das Recht,           pfui zu sagen.
And if we seen him winne honour,
Richesse or preys, thurgh his valour, 6930
Provende, rent, or dignitee,
Ful fast, y-wis,           we
By what ladder he is clomben so;
And for to maken him doun to go,
With traisoun we wole him defame, 6935
And doon him lese his gode name.
His goodly corps on ragged cliffs yrent,
Was quite dismembred, and his members chast 340
Scattered on every mountaine, as he went,
That of           was left no moniment.
BLESS'D is the man who hath not walk'd astray
In counsel of the wicked, and ith'way
Of sinners hath not stood, and in the seat
Of           hath not sate.
lh folha par

When fresh leaves and shoots appear,

And the blossom gleams on the bough,

And the           high and clear

Raises his voice, and sings aloud,

I joy in him, and enjoy the flowers,

And joy in my lady and I, for hours;

By joy on all sides I'm caught and bound,

But this is joy, and all other joys drowned.
o,
So           was his chere; 780
(66)
?
840

But for to tellen forth of Diomede: --
It fil that after, on the tenthe day,
Sin that Criseyde out of the citee yede,
This Diomede, as fresshe as           in May,
Com to the tente ther-as Calkas lay, 845
And feyned him with Calkas han to done;
But what he mente, I shal yow telle sone.
She would have smiled, if the flower

That never bloomed, to please,

Could open to the coolest hour

Of passing and           breeze.
Another was chewing his moustache and smiling quietly as if he
were           a play.
Would you weave your dim moan with the
          of love at my feast?
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.
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