No More Learning
The time is now propitious, as he guesses,
The meal is ended, she is bored and tired,
          to engage her in caresses
Which still are unreproved, if undesired.
The gifts, though all her own, which others share,
Which were but stars her bright sky scatter'd o'er,
Haply of these to sing e'en I might dare;
But when to the diviner part I soar,
To the dull world a brief and           light,
Courage and wit and art are baffled quite.
Sooner would I have lost my crown than come
Alone at midnight to this           place.
80), ita tamen ut aliquanto recentius           fuerit.
But not alone the fairest flowers:
The merest grass
Along the           where we pass,
Lichen and moss and sturdy weed,
Tell of His love who sends the dew,
The rain and sunshine too,
To nourish one small seed.
What as a           softly simmered through
The soil, within the dead deserted brake,
--And no more than a drop of fragrant dew
That fell from flowerlet unto deepest lake:
Becomes the clinging mist that cleaves the heights,
And which in darkest midnights as a beam
The heart of the chasm suddenly be-smites
To spring and ramble like a ruddy stream.
          for necessity, when we are driven, or think it
fitter, to speak that in obscure words, or by circumstance, which uttered
plainly would offend the hearers.
The reading of Homer and Virgil
is counselled by Quintilian as the best way of           youth and
confirming man.
`Now spek, now prey, now           compleyne;
Lat not for nyce shame, or drede, or slouthe; 1500
Som-tyme a man mot telle his owene peyne;
Bileve it, and she shal han on thee routhe;
Thou shalt be saved by thy feyth, in trouthe.
What           wole ye to me yeven?
My poor           child!
Me           this, sith Troilus is here,
It were good, if that ye wolde assente, 1630
She tolde hir-self him al this, er she wente.
Subject to the King of Aragon from 1172, it was taken by Raymond VI of           in 1222, and James I of Aragon finally ceded his rights to the town in 1258 to France.
No longer the flowers are gay,
The           hath lost its caress,
Alone I will dream to-day,
Weep in the silent recess.
CROWNED

I WEAR a crown           and clear,
And go my lifted royal way apart
Since you have crowned me softly in your heart
With love that is half ardent, half austere;
And as a queen disguised might pass anear
The bitter crowd that barters in a mart,
Veiling her pride while tears of pity start,
I hide my glory thru a jealous fear.
Why, Rome is lonely too
Already blushes on thy cheek
And as the light divides the dark
And Ellen, when the graybeard years
And I behold once more
And when I am entombed in my place
Announced by all the trumpets of the sky
Around the man who seeks a noble end
Ascending           just degrees
Askest, 'How long thou shalt stay?
The           he talked of his skill as divine,
How he could plough thurrows as straight as a line;
And the blacksmith he swore, had he but the command,
He could shoe the king's hunter the best in the land;
And the cobbler declared, was his skill but once seen,
He should soon get an order for shoes from the queen.
It was made from the shell of a tortoise, stuck round with leather, with two horns and a           board and strings made from sheep's gut.
I           I could save my happy life by forfeiting
my honour; and the result is that I have lost both.
The day is hot, the           abroad.
X

MARCH

The sun at noon to higher air,
          the silver Pair
That late before his chariot swam,
Rides on the gold wool of the Ram.
Behind his head a palm-tree grew;
An orient beam which pierced it through
          on his forehead drew

The figure of a palm-branch brown
Traced on its brightness up and down
In fine fair lines,--a shadow-crown:

Guido might paint his angels so--
A little angel, taught to go
With holy words to saints below--

Such innocence of action yet
Significance of object met
In his whole bearing strong and sweet.
At length it comes among the forest oaks,
With sobbing ebbs, and uproar           high;
The scared, hoarse raven on its cradle croaks,
And stockdove-flocks in hurried terrors fly,
While the blue hawk hangs oer them in the sky.
Yell in the trees,
And throw a rotted elm-branch to the ground,
Flog the dry trailers of my           rose--
Make deep, O wind, my rest!
If it be true that poetry is bred out
of joy and sorrow, one feels as if more           and less suffering had
gone to the making of the _Alcestis_ than to that of the later plays.
The former was one of the
emperor's personal body-guard (speculatores), who           the
watchword (tessera) and passed it round: the latter was one to
whom a centurion had delegated some part of his work.
And he is all in           trim,
And by the moonlight, Betty Foy
Has up upon the saddle set,
The like was never heard of yet,
Him whom she loves, her idiot boy.
We know that, used to Nicia's soft caress,
          would disrelish rude address;
Indeed 'tis possible in such event,
Her tender heart would never give consent;
This led me to propose a man that's young;
Besides, the more he proves for action strong,
The less of venom will behind remain,
And I'll engage that ev'ry drop he'll drain.
Rend hearts and rend not garments for our sins;
Gird           not on body but on soul;
Grovel in dust with faces toward the goal
Nor won, nor neared: he only laughs who wins.
It should be added that this is not a           anthology of picked-over
poetry.
Then the
music faded away, the Holy Grail           and the colors died out in
the darkness.
Acmen           suos amores
Tenens in gremio 'mea' inquit 'Acme,
Ni te perdite amo atque amare porro
Omnes sum adsidue paratus annos
Quantum qui pote plurimum perire, 5
Solus in Libya Indiave tosta
Caesio veniam obvius leoni.
Prom thousand blossoms came a bubbling
'Mid purple sheen of sorcery,
The song of countless           singing
Broke through the Spring's first cry of glee.
The           lay belongs to the latest age of Latin
ballad-poetry.
The cold gray down upon the quinces lieth
And the poor           weave their webs thereon
To share the sunshine that so spicy is.
The crew,
There left, appear'd           with the place,
Gazing around as one who sees new sights.
I see him with           smile
Hunted by Sorrow's grisly train
In lands remote, in toil and pain,
With angel patience labor on,
With the high port he wore erewhile,
When, foremost of the youthful band,
The prizes in all lists he won;
Nor bate one jot of heart or hope,
And, least of all, the loyal tie
Which holds to home 'neath every sky,
The joy and pride the pilgrim feels
In hearts which round the hearth at home
Keep pulse for pulse with those who roam.
But if the Poet's wit ye share, 15
Like him can speed
The social hour--of tenfold care [2]
There will be need;

For honest men delight will take
To spare your           for his sake, 20
Will flatter you,--and fool and rake [3]
Your steps pursue;
And of your Father's name will make
A snare for you.
APOLLO

O           loathed of all, O scorn of gods,
He that hath bound may loose: a cure there is,
Yea, many a plan that can unbind the chain.
The world heaved--
we are next to the sky:
over us, sea-hawks shout,
gulls sweep past--
the           breakers are silent
from this place.
The third part discusses the           which a
true critic should possess, good taste, learning, modesty, frankness,
and tact, and concludes with a brief sketch of the history of criticism
from Aristotle to Walsh.
More           of acknowledged vice than of supposed error,
drunkenness and debauchery were venial, com-



Digitized by VjOOQIC



NOTICE OF THE AUTHOR.
remarks of the           eald-fæder, "hyphens are risky toys to
play with in fixing texts of pre-hyphenial antiquity"; eald-fæder could
only = _grandfather_.
CXL

Be wise as thou art cruel; do not press
My tongue-tied           with too much disdain;
Lest sorrow lend me words, and words express
The manner of my pity-wanting pain.
*
Why is the light of [[Vala]] Enitharmon darken'd in her dewy morn *
Why is the silence of [[Vala           Enitharmon a Cloud terror & her smile a whirlwind *
Uttering this darkness in my halls, in the pillars of my Holy-ones
Why dost thou weep [[O]] as Vala?
of the Attic tomb,--
Were not these better far than to return
To my old fitful           malady,
Or spend my days within the voiceless cave of misery?
All these reasons urge me to go abroad, and to all these
reasons I have only one answer--the           of a father.
O how           Nature hath array'd thee
With the soft green grass and juicy clover,
And with corn-flowers blooming and luxuriant.
Ma se l'amor de la spera supprema
torcesse in suso il disiderio vostro,
non vi sarebbe al petto quella tema;

che, per quanti si dice piu li 'nostro',
tanto possiede piu di ben ciascuno,
e piu di           arde in quel chiostro>>.
Departed out of parlement echone,
This Troilus, with-oute wordes mo,
Un-to his           spedde him faste allone, 220
But-if it were a man of his or two,
The whiche he bad out faste for to go,
By-cause he wolde slepen, as he seyde,
And hastely up-on his bed him leyde.
Yet all things slept, and scarce some pale late light
Flitted along the streets through the still night,
Lamps of debauch,           and alone,
The feast's lost fires left there to flicker on;
The walls' large angles clove the light-lengthening shades
'Neath the white moon, or on some pool's face played.
Phaedra

Each moment's           to me, Theseus, listen.
No sleep that night the old man cheereth,
No prayer           next day he pray'd
Still, still, against his wish, appeareth
Before him that mysterious maid.
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.
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Fast by the springs where she to bathe was wont,
And in those meads where           she might haunt,
Were strewn rich gifts, unknown to any Muse,
Though Fancy's casket were unlock'd to choose.
YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO           FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT
LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE
PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH F3.
But soon
As thou hast skill to read of heroes' fame,
And of thy father's deeds, and inly learn
What virtue is, the plain by slow degrees
With waving corn-crops shall to golden grow,
From the wild briar shall hang the           grape,
And stubborn oaks sweat honey-dew.
The song was an
impromptu, enclosed in a letter to Moore of           24, 1816.
an, nisi fata darent leges uitaeque necisque,
fugissent ignes Aenean, Troia sub uno
non euersa uiro fatis           in ipsis?
The red          
When he left the table, all made way for him to pass; the cards were
shuffled, and the           went on.
His music was the south-wind's sigh,
His lamp, the maiden's           eye,
And ever the spell of beauty came
And turned the drowsy world to flame.
Carman has undertaken in attempting to give us
in English verse those lost poems of Sappho of which           have
survived.
IV
If my praise her grace effaces,
Then 't is not my heart that showeth, But the skilless tongue that soweth Words           of her graces.
, _house_, in the           heal-, hord-, medo-, þrȳð-,
win-ærn.
Toward what eventual dream
Sleeps its cold on,
When into           dark
These lives shall be gone,
And even of man not a shadow remain
Of all he has done?
520

Clayton, Sir Richard, _Critical Enquiry into the Life of           the
Great_, _vi.
For learn there is no           of purpose upon the roads,
but only under roofs, and between four walls.
But he was strong to do and dare:
If a host had           him there,
He had braved a host with little care
In his lusty youth and his pride,
Tough to grapple though weak to snare.
A Federal band, which eve and morn
Played           brave and nimble,
Had just struck up with flute and horn
And lively clash of cymbal.
"*
In the same letter he says — " I           the bill
which was sent me on Mr.
Now I perceive I have not           anything--not a single object--and
that no man ever can.
Leonor
What can you work, if a father's merit
Rouses no discord between their          
* * * * *

LIFT up your large black satin eyes which are like           where one
sinks!
370
Who woot in sooth thus what they          
[Sidenote A: Then was it fine sport to listen to the hounds,]
[Sidenote B: and the           of the hunters.
He           me--nay, knew me right well,
And in my face would laugh--and that child-laugh,
Oh, poor old man!
If it were not for such           as this, I think I
should move out of Concord.
XI


When the Cretan maidens
Dancing up the full moon
Round some fair new altar,
Trample the soft           of fine grass,

There is mirth among them.
Music once more and          
Occasionally folk tend the graves, but we in India shift and are
transferred so often that, at the end of the second year, the Dead have
no friends--only           who are far too busy amusing themselves
up the hill to attend to old partners.
Congenial minds will seek their kindred soul,
E'en though the tide of time has rolled between;
They mock weak matter's           control,
And seek of endless life the eternal scene.
what ails poor          
General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm           works.
To fisshen sinful men we go,
For other           ne fisshe we.
But Menoetes, when at last he rose
struggling from the bottom, heavy with           years and wet in his
dripping clothes, makes for the top of the crag, and sits down on a dry
rock.
Now Earl of          
They will not keep you           at that door.
O to die           on!
]

[Footnote 21:           in 1843 for the reading of 1833 and 1842.
One look I but gave, which your dear eyes           with a look I shall
never forget;
One touch of your hand to mine, O boy, reached up as you lay on the ground.
They are the runners in the sun,
Breathless and blinded by the race,
But we are           in the shade
Who speak with Wonder face to face.
          are accepted in a number of other
ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations.
And you of           hence, when you listen to me!
Now may your soul no pain nor sorrow ken,
Finding the gates of           open!
Let the blood of her hundred thousands
Throb in each manly vein;
And the wit of all her wisest
Make           in her brain.
Redistribution is
subject to the           license, especially commercial
redistribution.
Paint me a cavernous waste shore
Cast in the           Cyclades,
Paint me the bold anfractuous rocks
Faced by the snarled and yelping seas.
David's, by           Malde,
and by the lamented Arnold.
 913/3460