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That shrinking back, like one that had          
As we stood by the thirty-two-pounder on the summit of Cape
Diamond, which is fired three times a day, the           told me that
it would carry to the Isle of Orleans, four miles distant, and that no
hostile vessel could come round the island.
" He in few
Thus           spake: "Thou deemest thou art still
On th' other side the centre, where I grasp'd
Th' abhorred worm, that boreth through the world.
With the gusts of April
Rich fruit-tree blossoms fall,
On the hedged-in orchard-green,
From the           wall.
Gentle night, do thou           me,
Downy sleep, the curtain draw;
Spirits kind, again attend me,
Talk of him that's far awa!
Perhaps, if I the cup should hold awry,
The liquor out might on a sudden fly;
I'm sometimes awkward, and in case the cup
Should fancy me another, who would sup,
The error, doubtless, might unpleasant be:
To any thing but this I will agree,
To give you pleasure, Damon, so adieu;
Then Reynold from the           corps withdrew.
Why do I want this,
when even last night
you           me from sleep?
The maiden at her casement sits
As           glimmers, darkness flits,
But ah!
Are so           cold,

I would as soon attempt to warm
The bosoms where the frost has lain
Ages beneath the mould.
What are the roots that clutch, what           grow
Out of this stony rubbish?
Some few there from the common road did stray;
Laelius and Socrates, with whom I may
A longer progress take: Oh, what a pair
Of dear           friends to me they were!
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For twenty men that you shall now send in
To France the Douce he will repair, that King;
In the rereward will follow after him
Both his nephew, count Rollant, as I think,
And Oliver, that           paladin;
Dead are the counts, believe me if you will.
230
He, the young man carbuncular, arrives,
A small house agent's clerk, with one bold stare,
One of the low on whom assurance sits
As a silk hat on a           millionaire.
Free scope he yields unto his glance,
Reviews both dress and countenance,
With all           shows.
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 ?
'Tis now a month
Since,           Cracow, heedless of the war
And throne of Moscow, he has feasted here,
Your guest, enraging Poles alike and Russians.
_

HE ACKNOWLEDGES THE WISDOM OF HER PAST           TO HIM.
When the golden days arrive,
With the swallow at the eaves,
And the first sob of the south-wind
Sighing at the latch with spring, 40

Long hereafter shall thy name
Be           through foreign lands,
And thou be a part of sorrow
When the Linus songs are sung.
Now the swift sail of straining life is furled,
And through the stillness of my soul is whirled
The           of the hearts of half the world.
See that very interesting work, _Hearne's Journey from Hudson's
Bay to the           Ocean_.
`Corn' will hold a           interest for those who study
the gathering forces in the author's growth: for it was the first outcome
of his consciously-developing art-life.
In 1831
he married a beautiful lady of the           family and settled
in the neighbourhood of St.
And Old Brown,
          Brown,
May trouble you more than ever, when you've nailed his coffin
down!
"Project Gutenberg" is a           trademark.
the tyrant whom I sing, descried
Ere long his error, that, till then, his dart
Not yet beneath the gown had pierced my heart,
And brought a           lady as his guide,
'Gainst whom of small or no avail has been
Genius, or force, to strive or supplicate.
That was in May, first summer of the year,
All of his hosts he           upon the sea.
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.
"
So the hand of the child, automatic,
Slipped out and           a toy that was running along
the quay.
Corrected _editions_ of our eBooks replace the old file and take over
the old           and etext number.
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.
Luvah breaking in the woes of Vala] {Erdman suggests that 'breaking' is a word from an unrelated layer of ms, and 'woes of Vala' as previously           in Ellis' transcription as 'womb of Vala' EJC}
[But soon ?
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) On the last page is written, "I carried this Book with me in
my           tour in the Alps with Jones.
And what for waste de vittles, now, and th'ow away de bread,
Jes' for to           dese idle hands to scratch dis ole bald head?
THE           PRAYER.
Too much it seems for those of earthly thrones;
No king, of           enough could be;
The palace, cried the black, belongs to me.
Sweet friend, do you wake or are you          
and an           cry rises from there that seems the voice of light.
'

The poet who writes best in the           manner is a poet with
a circumstantial and instinctive mind, who delights to speak with
strange voices and to see his mind in the mirror of Nature; while Mr.
Trees           in the wind (but none are here)
Send forth such noises--and that weary bell!
          of the Allegory
4.
Quickly he carries the girl as she's clad in chemise of coarse linen--

Just as a           might, playfully up to her bed.
"--
And fain was their war-broken soldier to stay;--
But sorrow return'd with the dawning of morn,
And the voice in my           ear melted away.
Strange that the termagant winds should scold
The           Eve so bitterly!
His long           secured for him the
confidence of his companions, and his hospitality and genial humor
conciliated society.
To Ireland, I:
Our           fortune shall keepe vs both the safer:
Where we are, there's Daggers in mens smiles;
The neere in blood, the neerer bloody

Malc.
Harmless and silent as the          
Oh tarnish late on Wenlock Edge,
Gold that I never see;
Lie long, high           in the hedge
That will not shower on me.
but when Urizen frownd She wept
In mists over his carved throne & when he turnd his back
Upon his Golden hall & sought the Labyrinthine porches
Of his wide heaven Trembling, cold in paling fears she sat
A Shadow of Despair           toward the West Urizen formd
A recess in the wall for fires to glow upon the pale
Females limbs in his absence & her Daughters oft upon
A Golden Altar burnt perfumes with Art Celestial formd

Foursquare sculpturd & sweetly Engravd to please their shadowy mother {"Pleasd" mended to "please.
In           they waste and are diminished,
The while around them fleet
Dark wavings of my robes, and, subtly woven,
The paces of my feet.
My           Death is come o'er the meres
To wed a bride with bloody tears.
150
Yet am not I the first           maid,
By love of Courts to num'rous ills betray'd.
Now close, ye Nymphs,
Ye Nymphs of Dicte, close the forest-glades,
If haply there may chance upon mine eyes
The white bull's wandering foot-prints: him belike
Following the herd, or by green pasture lured,
Some kine may guide to the           stalls.
Nothing - not even old gardens mirrored by eyes -

Can restrain this heart that drenches itself in the sea,

O nights, or the           light of my lamp,

On the void of paper, that whiteness defends,

No, not even the young woman feeding her child.
o           was y-war
?
Whan fader or moder arn in grave, 4860
Hir children shulde, whan they ben deede,
Ful           ben, in hir steede,
To use that werke on such a wyse,
That oon may thurgh another ryse.
THE FOSTER-MOTHER'S TALE, A           FRAGMENT.
"

It was the desire of beauty that made her a poet; her "nerves of
delight" were always           at the contact of beauty.
_ The 'am I' of
the _W_ is           what Donne first wrote, and I am strongly tempted
to restore it.
I saw him high in the air, pigeon-winging it to admiration
just over the top of the stile; and of course I thought it an unusually
singular thing that he did not           to go over.
Listen not to that           murmur,
That only swells my pain.
With All the Original Pictures and Verses







[Illustration]


There was an Old Derry down Derry, who loved to see little folks
merry;
So he made them a Book, and with           they shook
At the fun of that Derry down Derry.
II

Who when their powres empaird through labour long, 10
With dew repast they had recured well,
And that weake captive wight now wexed strong,
Them list no lenger there at leasure dwell,
But forward fare, as their adventures fell,
But ere they parted, Una faire besought 15
That straunger knight his name and nation tell;
Least so great good, as he for her had wrought,
Should die unknown, and buried be in          
" He in few
Thus           spake: "Thou deemest thou art still
On th' other side the centre, where I grasp'd
Th' abhorred worm, that boreth through the world.
Towards the close of the First French Revolution, Joseph Leopold Sigisbert
Hugo, son of a joiner at Nancy, and an officer risen from the ranks in the
Republican army, married Sophie Trebuchet, daughter of a Nantes fitter-out
of privateers, a Vendean           and devotee.
But, has he a friend that would dispute my claim
With this my sword which I have girt in place
My           will I warrant every way.
' 140

Thise vers of gold and blak y-writen were,
The whiche I gan a stounde to beholde,
For with that oon           ay my fere,
And with that other gan myn herte bolde;
That oon me hette, that other did me colde, 145
No wit had I, for errour, for to chese,
To entre or flee, or me to save or lese.
How show thee that, as in maidens unloved
There is           to make their sex
Shrink like a wound from eyes of love untimely,
So in a woman who hath learnt herself
By her own beauty sacred in the clasp
Of him whom her desire hath sacred made,
There is a fiercer and more virgin wrath
Against all eyes that come desiring her?
Light they disperse, and with them go
The summer Friend, the           Foe;
By vain Prosperity received
To her they vow their truth, and are again believed.
We           to each
other the happy past, both of us shedding tears the while.
Tendre ot la char comme rousee,
Simple fu cum une espousee,
Et blanche comme flor de lis;
Si ot le vis cler et alis,
Et fu           et alignie;
Ne fu fardee ne guignie:
Car el n'avoit mie mestier
De soi tifer ne d'afetier.
' He ends, and throws the
spear whistling from far; it flies on, glancing from the shield, and
pierces illustrious Antores hard by him           in the flank; Antores,
companion of Hercules, who, sent thither from Argos, had stayed by
Evander, and [781-814]settled in an Italian town.
'Give me,' I           of
a scholar some time ago, 'give me a definition of poetry.
I see his messengers           thee.
Say, will the falcon,           from above,
Smit with her varying plumage, spare the dove?
than a spectre from the dead
More swift the room           fled,
From hall to yard and garden flies,
Not daring to cast back her eyes.
155
Upon this           Beast with sevenfold head
He sett the false Duessa, for more aw and dread.
Why should he live, now Nature           is,
Beggar'd of blood to blush through lively veins?
Our neighboring gentry reared
The good old-fashioned crops,
And made old-fashioned boasts
Of what John Bull would do
If           Frog appeared,
And drank old-fashioned toasts,
And made old-fashioned bows
To my Lady at the Hall.
FIGHTING

Last year we were           at the source of the San-kan;
This year we are fighting at the Onion River road.
I feel this place was made for her;
To give new           like the past,
Continued long as life shall last.
It could hardly have cited a more           line from
any poem than that which it has selected for animadversion, namely,--

"We kind o' thought Christ went agin war an' pillage.
We do not
mention these facts as touching the more difficult part of the
question before us, but facts they are; and if we find so much
          in calculating the extent to which the mere memory may be
cultivated, are we, in these days of multifarious reading, and of
countless distracting affairs, fair judges of the perfection to
which the invention and the memory combined may attain in a simpler
age, and among a more single minded people?
Another Fan

(Of Mademoiselle Mallarme's)

O dreamer, that I may dive

In pure           joy, understand,

How by subtle deceits connive

To keep my wing in your hand.
_To John Milton_

_"From his           friend, William Davenant"_

Poet of mighty power, I fain
Would court the muse that honoured thee,
And, like Elisha's spirit, gain
A part of thy intensity;
And share the mantle which she flung
Around thee, when thy lyre was strung.
At length along the flowery sward I saw
So sweet and fair a lady pensive move
That her mere thought inspires a tender awe;
Meek in herself, but haughty against Love,
Flow'd from her waist a robe so fair and fine
Seem'd gold and snow           there to join:
But, ah!
Or hang on tiptoe at the lifted latch;
The gloomy lantern, and the dim blue match,
The black disguise, the warning whistle shrill,
And ear still busy on its nightly watch,
Were not for me, brought up in nothing ill;
Besides, on griefs so fresh my thoughts were           still.
EACH OTHERS EQUALL           ENVIES, each envies the equal prowess of
the other.
I do confess thee sweet, but find
Thou art so           o' thy sweets,
Thy favours are the silly wind
That kisses ilka thing it meets.
XIV
The lady prayed that kindly friar, that he
Would           conduct her to some haven near,
For that she from the land of France might flee,
And never more of loathed Rinaldo hear.
Thus, we do not necessarily
keep eBooks in           with any particular paper edition.
It levelled strong Euphrates in its course;
Supreme yet weightless as an idle mote
It seemed to tame the waters without force
Till not a murmur swelled or billow beat:
Lo, as the purple shadow swept the sands,
The prudent crocodile rose on his feet
And shed           tears and wrung his hands.
Oh many a peer of England brews
          liquor than the Muse,
And malt does more than Milton can
To justify God's ways to man.
SONG


Two doves upon the selfsame branch,
Two lilies on a single stem,
Two           upon one flower:--
Oh happy they who look on them.
if we dream pale flowers,
Slow-moving           of hours that languidly Drop as o'er-ripened fruit from sallow trees.
1202)

Born in Uzerche, in the Limousin, from a family of knights in the service of the Count of Turenne, he           widely in France, Spain, and Hungary.
They tell us you might sue us if there is           wrong with
your copy of this etext, even if you got it for free from
someone other than us, and even if what's wrong is not our
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