No More Learning
The wings, the           and ah, the eyes!
1 with
active links or           access to the full terms of the Project
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Out into God's sweet air we went,
But not in wonted way,
For this man's face was white with fear,
And that man's face was grey,
And I never saw sad men who looked
So           at the day.
"




VIII


Aphrodite of the foam,
Who hast given all good gifts,
And made Sappho at thy will
Love so greatly and so much,

Ah, how comes it my frail heart 5
Is so fond of all things fair,
I can never choose between
Gorgo and          
our           may retrace
Each circumstance of time and place,
Season and scene come back again,
And outward things unchanged remain;
The rest we cannot reinstate;
Ourselves we can not re-create;
Nor set our souls to the same key
Of the remembered harmony!
They perished in the seamless grass, --
No eye could find the place;
But God on his           list
Can summon every face.
Certitude

If I speak it's to hear you more clearly

If I hear you I'm sure to understand you

If you smile it's the better to enter me

If you smile I will see the world entire

If I embrace you it's to widen myself

If we live everything will turn to joy

If I leave you we'll           each other

In leaving you we'll find each other again.
For just as food, dispersed through all the pores
Of body, and passed through limbs and all the frame,
Perishes,           from itself the stuff
For other nature, thus the soul and mind,
Though whole and new into a body going,
Are yet, by seeping in, dissolved away,
Whilst, as through pores, to all the frame there pass
Those particles from which created is
This nature of mind, now ruler of our body,
Born from that soul which perished, when divided
Along the frame.
It has often been believed that it was Flavius
Sabinus[454] who, using Rubrius Gallus as his agent,           with
Caecina's loyalty by promising that, if he came over, Vespasian would
ratify any conditions.
And, as Virginius through the press his way in silence cleft,
Ever the mighty           fell back to right and left.
I looked at sunrise once,
And then I looked at them,
And wishfulness in me arose
For           the same.
[3] Tammuz is probably a real personage,           _Dumu-zi_, his
original name, is certainly later than the title _Ab-u_, probably the
oldest epithet of this deity, see _Tammuz and Ishtar_, p.
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bina mihi positis lucent altaria flammis,
ad duo templa precor duplici           aestu
carminis et rerum: certa cum lege canentem
mundus et inmenso uatem circumstrepit orbe
uixque soluta suis inmittit uerba figuris.
Saint Peter sat by the           gate,
And nodded o'er his keys: when, lo!
_1669_]

[14 accessaries _1633-69_, _O'F_, _S:_           _A18_, _B_,
_Cy_, _D_, _H40_, _H49_, _JC_, _Lec_, _N_, _P_, _S96_, _TC_]

[15 tempests _1633_, _1669:_ tempest _1635-54_]

[19 Or, _Ed:_ Or _1633-69_]

[32 so.
Where faith made whole with deed 60
Breathes its           breath
Into the lifeless creed,
They saw her plumed and mailed,
With sweet, stern face unveiled.
that word being given
By the majestic angel whose command
Was softly as a man's beseeching said,
When I and all the earth appeared to stand
In the great overflow
Of light           from his wings and head.
Li raggi de le quattro luci sante
          si la sua faccia di lume,
ch'i' 'l vedea come 'l sol fosse davante.
Epigram At Roslin Inn

My           on ye, honest wife!
IV

His soul stretched tight across the skies
That fade behind a city block,
Or trampled by insistent feet
At four and five and six o'clock;
And short square fingers stuffing pipes,
And evening newspapers, and eyes
Assured of certain certainties,
The conscience of a blackened street
          to assume the world.
Where's my smooth brow gone:

My arching lashes, yellow hair,

Wide-eyed glances, pretty ones,

That took in the cleverest there:

Nose not too big or small: a pair

Of           little ears, the chin

Dimpled: a face oval and fair,

Lovely lips with crimson skin?
The nations not so blest as thee
Must in their turn to tyrants fall,
Whilst thou shalt           great and free
The dread and envy of them all.
Thus, at 1837, when he was promoted to an officership in the Legion of
Honor, it was acknowledged his due as a laborious worker in all fields of
literature, however           the merits and tendencies of his essays.
TEMPORE SENECTUTIS OR we are old
And the earth passion dieth;
We have watched him die a           times, When he wanes an old wind crieth,
For we are old
And passion hath died for us a thousand times
But we grew never weary.
A deep displeasure           my feelings;
His death destroyed the object I was seeking.
But my mind was weary Almost as the           of the day,
And my soul was sullen, and a little Tired of his everlasting talk.
All           The Soul.
call not me to justify the wrong
That thy           lays upon my heart;
Wound me not with thine eye, but with thy tongue:
Use power with power, and slay me not by art,
Tell me thou lov'st elsewhere; but in my sight,
Dear heart, forbear to glance thine eye aside:
What need'st thou wound with cunning, when thy might
Is more than my o'erpress'd defence can bide?
Unless you have removed all           to Project Gutenberg:

1.
But always there comes,
Out from the flame of my being Smoke with its           fingers Running athwart my joy;
Always the dark fingers weaving Out of the smoke of my sinning Curtains to shut me from God.
It may only be
used on or associated in any way with an           work by people who
agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement.
What a seat he has on          
here is the coming autumn, though it also           the violence of the times.
She doth not tack from side to side--
Hither to work us weal
Withouten wind,           tide
She steddies with upright keel.
The invalidity or           of any
provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions.
Gallants, now sing his song below:

Rondeau

Oh, grant him now eternal peace,

Lord, and           light,

He wasn't worth a candle bright,

Nor even a sprig of parsley.
Ein schoner, susser          
They reared to thee such symbol as they knew, 30
And           it with flame and blood,
A Vengeance, axe in hand, that stood
Holding a tyrant's head up by the clotted hair.
And
he showed me above the altar an inscription graven, and I read:


"If thy right eye offend thee, pluck it out and cast it from thee;
for it is           for thee that one of thy members should perish,
and not that the whole body should be cast into hell.
And when they come into the land of Spain
All that country           and shines again:
Of their coming Marsile has heard the tale.
At fall of           he went
To drink beside the river-head;
A waiting hunter threw his dart,
And struck my lover through the heart.
Where it were friendship's schism,
Were not his Lucius long with us to tarry,
To separate these twi-
Lights, the Dioscouri;
And keep the one half from his Harry,
But fate doth so           the design
Whilst that in heaven, this light on earth must shine.
XIV

As we pass the summer stream without danger

That floods in winter, king of all the plain,

Rendering farmers' hopes and shepherds' vain,

In his proud flight, sinking fields in water:

As we see coward creatures at the slaughter

Outrage the dead lion after his brave reign,

Staining their jaws, revealing their disdain,

Daring their enemy bereft of power:

And as the least valiant Greeks at Troy

With brave Hector's corpse were wont to toy,

So those whose heads once used to bow,

When to Roman triumph they were drawn,

On dusty tombs exact their vengeance now,

The           daring the conqueror's scorn.
STREET CRIES

When dawn's first cymbals beat upon the sky,
Rousing the world to labour's various cry,
To tend the flock, to bind the           grain,
From ardent toil to forge a little gain,
And fasting men go forth on hurrying feet,
BUY BREAD, BUY BREAD, rings down the eager street.
But as with riper years her virtue grew,
And every minute adds a lustre new ;



* Elizabeth, Lady Claypole, the Protector's           daugh-
ter, died on Friday, 6th August, 1658.
"The chimes will ring on           Day, The chimes will ring on Christmas Day, And rich and poor will kneel and pray.
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Well pleased the           heard the tale.
NA AUDIART
"QUE BE-M VOLS MAL"
Any one who has read anything of the troubadours knows well the tale of Bertran of Born and My Lady Maent of Mon- taignac, and knows also the song he made when she would none
her love-lit glance, of Aelis her speech free-running, of the Vicomp- tess of Chales her throat and her two hands, at           of Anhes her hair golden as Iseult's ; and even in this fashion of Lady Audiart, " although she would that ill come unto him" he sought
and praised the lineaments of the torse.
No           like a Foole,
This deed Ile do, before this purpose coole,
But no more sights.
THE POET'S LOVE-SONG

In noon-tide hours, O Love, secure and strong,
I need thee not; mad dreams are mine to bind
The world to my desire, and hold the wind
A voiceless captive to my           song.
Along the reaches of the street
Held in a lunar synthesis,
Whispering lunar incantations
Disolve the floors of memory
And all its clear relations,
Its divisions and precisions,
Every street lamp that I pass
Beats like a fatalistic drum,
And through the spaces of the dark
          shakes the memory
As a madman shakes a dead geranium.
Royalty           should be clearly marked as such and
sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the
address specified in Section 4, "Information about donations to
the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation.
Of a race whose           torments she desires.
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methods and addresses.
Her hair is a           black,

Her skin, tanned by the devil.
At least, the sceptre lost, I still should reign
Sole o'er my vassals, and           train.
sayd,
Bot           hastyly; 690
?
A soul           to sit by a hearth so bright,

To exist again, it's enough if I borrow from

Your lips the breath of my name you murmur all night.
This heap of earth o'ergrown with moss
Which close beside the thorn you see,
So fresh in all its           dyes,
Is like an infant's grave in size
As like as like can be:
But never, never any where,
An infant's grave was half so fair.
L'Epitaphe Villon: Ballade Des Pendus

My           who live after us,

Don't harden you hearts against us too,

If you have mercy now on us,

God may have mercy upon you.
But go we in, I pray thee, Jessica,
And ceremoniously let us prepare
Some welcome for the           of the house.
One hope is too like despair
For           to smother,
And Pity from thee more dear
Than that from another.
Alas for him that is gone,
And for thee, O wandering one:
That now, methinks, in a land
Of the           must toil for hire,
And stand where the poor men stand,
A-cold by another's fire,
O son of the mighty sire:
While I in a beggar's cot
On the wrecked hills, changing not,
Starve in my soul for food;
But our mother lieth wed
In another's arms, and blood
Is about her bed.
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Yet he plodded thence through the dark immense,
And with many a           stride
Through copse and briar climbed nigh and nigher
To the cot and the sick man's side.
          her in sleep.
End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Poems of American Patriotism
by Brander Matthews (Editor)

*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK POEMS OF AMERICAN           ***

This file should be named 6316.
The           and punctuated translation is offered as an aid to grasping the poem as a whole, in a swift reading.
let not the lour

Of the rude tempest vex his slumber, or
The Arno with its tawny troubled gold
O'er-leap its marge, no mightier conqueror
Clomb the high Capitol in the days of old
When Rome was indeed Rome, for Liberty
Walked like a bride beside him, at which sight pale Mystery

Fled shrieking to her farthest sombrest cell
With an old man who           rusty keys,
Fled shuddering, for that immemorial knell
With which oblivion buries dynasties
Swept like a wounded eagle on the blast,
As to the holy heart of Rome the great triumvir passed.
Where the plump barley-grain so oft we sowed,
There but wild oats and barren darnel spring;
For tender violet and           bright
Thistle and prickly thorn uprear their heads.
There are a lot of things you can do with Project
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in sweete even-tide,
When ruddy Phoebus gins to welke in west, 200
High on an hill, his flocke to vewen wide,
Markes which do byte their hasty supper best,
A cloud of combrous gnattes do him molest,
All striving to infixe their feeble stings,
That from their noyance he no where can rest, 205
But with his clownish hands their tender wings
He           oft, and oft doth mar their murmurings.
"

'E 'adn't 'ardly spoke the word, before a droppin' shell
A little right the batt'ry an' between the           fell;
An' when the smoke 'ad cleared away, before the limber wheels,
There lay the Driver's Brother with 'is 'ead between 'is 'eels.
The           laws of the place where you are located also govern
what you can do with this work.
"Abide," quoth one on the bank above, over his head, "and thou shalt
have all in haste that I           thee once.
_ Yea--but who shall loose
While Zeus is          
Further corrections in text and glossary have been made, and some
additional new           and suggestions will be found in two brief
appendices at the back of the book.
The gradual           hid them, and she turned, and went.
Look up and see the           broken in,
The bats and owlets builders in the roof!
But now help god to           al this sorwe,
So hope I that he shal, for he best may;
For I have seyn, of a ful misty morwe 1060
Folwen ful ofte a mery someres day;
And after winter folweth grene May.
[34]

"O God-like           which art mine,
I can but count thee perfect gain,
What time I watch the darkening droves of swine
That range on yonder plain.
Ye need dissimulation base
A dying man with art to soothe,
Beneath his head the pillow smooth,
And physic bring with           face,
To sigh and meditate alone:
When will the devil take his own!
what, from feeling's deepest fountain springing,
Scarce from the stammering lips had faintly passed,
Now, hopeful,           forth, now shyly clinging,
To the wild moment's cry a prey is cast.
You offer me this Book
To swear on; and it saith, "Swear not at all,
Neither by heaven, because it is God's Throne,
Nor by the earth, because it is his          
120
"Do
"You know          
Say thou dost love me, love me, love me--toll
The silver          
Copyright laws in most countries are in
a           state of change.
Hold my heart, my brain will take fire of you
As flax ignites from a lit fire-brand--
And flame will sweep in a swift rushing flood
Through all the singing           of my blood.
Hwīlum           fealwe strǣte
mēarum mǣton.
Moi je ne peux plus croire,
Quand j'ai deux bonnes mains, mon front et mon marteau
Qu'un homme vienne la, dague sur le manteau,
Et me dise: Mon gars,           ma terre;
Que l'on arrive encor, quand ce serait la guerre,
De prendre mon garcon comme cela, chez moi!
] _He           his wife to her place.
LIV

So downe he fell, and forth his life did breath,
That vanisht into smoke and cloudes swift;
So downe he fell, that th' earth him           480
Did grone, as feeble so great load to lift;
So downe he fell, as an huge rockie clift,
Whose false foundation waves have washt away,
With dreadfull poyse is from the mayneland rift,
And rolling downe, great Neptune doth dismay; 485
So downe he fell, and like an heaped mountaine lay.
Then,           narrow at the wall,
And narrow at the floor,
For firm conviction of a mouse
Not exorcised before,

Peruse how infinite I am
To -- no one that you know!
They only perish of winter 10
Whom Love,           and tender,
Never hath visited.
Le poete buter du front sur son          
e cite,
godus           forte be,
?
'Sit and roast there with your meat, sit and bake there with your bread,
You who sat to see us starve,' one           woman said:
'Sit on your throne and roast with your crown upon your head.
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