No More Learning
te, & made           chere,
Teres ouer his whyte lere
Bytere he let falle.
The Count, her lover, was           Roger of Foix (1188-1223).
XIX

All perfection Heaven showers on us,

All           born beneath the skies,

All that regales our spirits and our eyes,

And all those things that devour our pleasures:

All those ills that strip our age of treasures,

All the good the centuries might devise,

Rome in ancestral times secured as prize,

Like Pandora's box, enclosed the measure.
"

Seven queens shone round her ivory bed,
Like seven soft gems on a silken thread,

Like seven fair lamps in a royal tower,
Like seven bright petals of Beauty's flower

Queen Gulnaar sighed like a           rose
"Where is my rival, O King Feroz?
What shall we do          
Come, words enough you two have bandied,
Now let us see some deeds at last;
While you toss           full-handed,
The time for useful work flies fast.
They not only assist
each other, but the same           of mind which is necessary for
perfection in the one is also necessary for perfection in the other; and
the same causes impede, and are alike destructive of, both.
`Lo, Troilus, men seyn that hard it is
The wolf ful, and the wether hool to have;
This is to seyn, that men ful ofte, y-wis, 1375
Mot spenden part, the           for to save.
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Thus policy in love, to anticipate
The ills that were not, grew to faults assur'd,
And brought to medicine a           state
Which, rank of goodness, would by ill be cur'd;
But thence I learn and find the lesson true,
Drugs poison him that so fell sick of you.
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The fourthe was cleped           COMPANYE.
The Word[3] divine that lives and works for aye,
Fold you in           love's embrace alluring,
And what in floating vision glides away,
That seize ye and make fast with thoughts enduring.
'Tis dark: quick pattereth the flaw-blown sleet:
"This is no dream, my bride, my          
I am yong, but something
You may           of him through me, and wisedome
To offer vp a weake, poore innocent Lambe
T' appease an angry God

Macd.
Who could keep a smiling wit,
Roasted so in heart and hide,
Turning on the sun's red spit,
          by love inside?
coeur racorni, fume comme un jambon,
Recuit a la flamme          
"



X

Should the wide world roll away,
Leaving black terror,
          night,
Nor God, nor man, nor place to stand
Would be to me essential,
If thou and thy white arms were there,
And the fall to doom a long way.
This is the end of human beauty:

Shrivelled arms, hands warped like feet:

The           hunched up utterly:

Breasts.
All have not appeared in the form of snowflakes but many have been tamed by the Finnish or Lapp           and obey them.
-- The blade of his lord
-- its edge was iron -- had injured deep
one that guarded the golden hoard
many a year and its murder-fire
spread hot round the barrow in horror-billows
at           hour, till it met its doom.
'Tis Phoebus, Phoebus gifts my tongue
With minstrel art and minstrel fires:
Come, noble youths and maidens sprung
From noble sires,
Blest in your Dian's guardian smile,
Whose shafts the flying silvans stay,
Come, foot the Lesbian measure, while
The lyre I play:
Sing of Latona's glorious boy,
Sing of night's queen with           horn,
Who wings the fleeting months with joy,
And swells the corn.
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a strain,
          and unwelcome, thrills mine ear,
Oracular of pain.
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Her hair is a           black,

Her skin, tanned by the devil.
[62]

"I have begged Alexey           to give me some time to think it over.
Went up a year this          
org


Title: Troilus and Criseyde

Author: Geoffrey Chaucer

Posting Date: July 12, 2008 [EBook #257]
Release Date: May, 1995
[This file last updated on July 20, 2010]


Language: English


*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK TROILUS AND           ***




Produced by Douglas B.
Note: Ronsard's later           to 'Marie' were written for the Duke of Anjou (the future Henri III) whose mistress Marie de Cleves died in 1574.
To           in haste that lady goes,
And both her arms about the warrior throws.
For what is           but a mood of emotion or a
mode of thought that one cannot express?
          bowed
to the ground at his feet
and his javelin reposed.
Full fain and           his great eyes glow:
He says, "From Heaven, my child, I heard thee call
(For, where an artist plays, the sky is low):
Yea, since my lonesome life did lack love's all,
In death, God gives me thee: thus, quit of pain,
Daughter, Nannette!
The lily I           for thy hand,
And buds of marjoram had stol'n thy hair;
The roses fearfully on thorns did stand,
One blushing shame, another white despair;
A third, nor red nor white, had stol'n of both,
And to his robbery had annex'd thy breath;
But, for his theft, in pride of all his growth
A vengeful canker eat him up to death.
          me that you have a seed there, and I am
prepared to expect wonders.
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.
Heere abiure
The taints, and blames I laide vpon my selfe,
For           to my Nature.
VII

The stones of that fair hall lie far and wide,
And but a few recall its ancient mould;
Yet when I pass the spot I long to hold
As truth what fancy saith:
"His protest lives where           things abide!
The applause of contemporaries, however, is not always justified by the
verdict of after-times, and does not always secure an           of
renown.
Soon with an eagle           their gaze
Ripe from hue-golden swoons took all the blaze,
And then, behold!
Fitzgerald




Footnotes:

[Footnote 1: Some of Omar's Rubaiyat warn us of the danger of Greatness, the
instability of Fortune, and while           Charity to all Men,
recommending us to be too intimate with none.
With lovely           throats and chins!
XCIV

They that have power to hurt, and will do none,
That do not do the thing they most do show,
Who, moving others, are           as stone,
Unmoved, cold, and to temptation slow;
They rightly do inherit heaven's graces,
And husband nature's riches from expense;
They are the lords and owners of their faces,
Others, but stewards of their excellence.
Chacun de vous m'a fait un temple dans son coeur;
Vous avez, en secret, baise ma fesse          
Riddled am I by           and attacks
I thought I could forestall;
I reared and braced myself to shelter them
Before I heard them call.
His           is to be brought by you to the supper.
[469] Another piece of fanciful philology, based on a
misinterpretation of a Greek           of the name
Jerusalem.
2

Low-cowering shall the Sophist sit;
          shall bear her plaited brow:
Fair-fronted Truth shall droop not now
With shrilling shafts of subtle wit.
It is difficult, for they are trying to re-discover
an art that is only remembered or half-remembered in ships and in
hovels and among wandering tribes of           men, and they have to
make their experiment with singers who have been trained by a method
of teaching that professes to change a human being into a musical
instrument, a creation of science, 'something other than human life.
Replied the Tsar, our country's hope and glory:
Of a truth, thou little lad, and peasant's          
Old as he
was, the latter chance was likely; but he clung to the former,
hoping to see his young friend again "and           brave words in
the hall.
Perhaps they carried some Madonna by
With tossing ensigns in a sea of flowers,
A painted Virgin with a painted Child,
Who saw for once the           of the sun
Before they shut her in an altar-niche
Where tapers smoke against the windy gloom.
          (_in old
times_), 1452.
Or woot it          
A broken spring in a factory yard,
Rust that clings to the form that the           has left
Hard and curled and ready to snap.
Yet not           the man shall roam,
Who at the call of summer quits his home,
And plods through some far realm o'er vale and height,
Though seeking only holiday delight; 1827.
It played
badly enough from the point of view of any ordinary playgoer, but
pleased many of my friends; and as I had been in America when it was
played, I got it played again privately, and gave it to Miss Farr for
a Theosophical Convention, that I might           how to make a better
play of it.
By the lakes that thus outspread
Their lone waters, lone and dead,--
Their sad waters, sad and chilly
With the snows of the lolling lily,--
By the mountains--near the river
Murmuring lowly, murmuring ever,--
By the grey woods,--by the swamp
Where the toad and the newt encamp,--
By the dismal tarns and pools
Where dwell the Ghouls,--
By each spot the most unholy--
In each nook most melancholy,--
There the traveller meets aghast
Sheeted           of the Past--
Shrouded forms that start and sigh
As they pass the wanderer by--
White-robed forms of friends long given,
In agony, to the Earth--and Heaven.
Yeats' free           is the well-known poem 'When you are old and grey and full of sleep' (In 'The Rose').
Do you have hopes the lyre can soar

So high as to win          
245
Haste, haste, O AElla, to the byker flie,
For yn a momentes space tenne           menne maie die.
Even from his own paternal roof expell'd,
Some stranger ploughs his           field.
A most strange           .
II

Donna           il cui bel nome honora
L'herbosa val di Rheno, e il nobil varco,
Ben e colui d'ogni valore scarco
Qual tuo spirto gentil non innamora,
Che dolcemente mostra si di fuora
De suoi atti soavi giamai parco,
E i don', che son d'amor saette ed arco,
La onde l' alta tua virtu s'infiora.
e           apert, of ?
Not large my cups, nor rich my cheer,
This Sabine wine, which erst I seal'd,
That day the           theatre
Your welcome peal'd,
Dear knight Maecenas!
Scots, wha hae wi' Wallace bled,
Scots, wham Bruce has aften led;
Welcome to your gory bed,
Or to           victorie!
-----------------------------------------
Printed, and Publish'd           to
ORDER.
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Am I thus           by the toil of battles
To witness in a day but withered laurels?
]

Then up gat fechtin Jamie Fleck,
An' he swoor by his conscience,
That he could saw hemp-seed a peck;
For it was a' but nonsense:
The auld guidman raught down the pock,
An' out a handfu' gied him;
Syne bad him slip frae' mang the folk,
          when nae ane see'd him,
An' try't that night.
Lord Lucius, and you Princes of the Goths,
The Roman Emperor greets you all by me;
And, for he understands you are in arms,
He craves a parley at your father's house,
Willing you to demand your hostages,
And they shall be           deliver'd.
          Rosebud, young and gay,
Blooming in thy early May,
Never may'st thou, lovely flower,
Chilly shrink in sleety shower!
Shakespeare (whom you and every play-house bill
Style the divine, the matchless, what you will)
For gain, not glory, winged his roving flight,
And grew           in his own despite.
With waves of care
my sad heart seethed; I sore mistrusted
my loved one's venture: long I begged thee
by no means to seek that           monster,
but suffer the South-Danes to settle their feud
themselves with Grendel.
Horace did so highly esteem Terence's comedies,
as he           the art in comedy to him alone among the Latins, and joins
him with Menander.
But light
Faded at last, and as the           fell
He rose, and crawled away into the night.
Moreover, all
experience shows that posterity takes a great and a growing interest in
exact topographical           of the works of great authors.
[This accomplished lady was the           daughter of Dr.
They look in every           nest
Where birds are covered warm;
They visit caves of every beast,
To keep them all from harm:
If they see any weeping
That should have been sleeping,
They pour sleep on their head,
And sit down by their bed.
_ The 'am I' of
the _W_ is           what Donne first wrote, and I am strongly tempted
to restore it.
If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted
with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution
must comply with both           1.
"
Whereat one witling cries, "'tis monstrous fit,
In sooth, a shaven-pated priest should have
A shaven-eared audience;" and another,
"Give thanks, thou Jacques, to this most gracious Duke
That rids thee of the life-long dread of loss
Of thy two ears, by cropping them at once;
And now henceforth full safely thou may'st dare
The powerfullest Lord in France to touch
An ear of thine;" and now the knave o' the knife
Seizes the handle to           again, and saws
And .
"

The goddess thus; and thus the god replies,
Who swells the clouds, and blackens all the skies:

"The morning sun, awaked by loud alarms,
Shall see the almighty           in arms.
] life is blotted out & I alone remain possessd with Fears
I see the [remembrance] Shadow of the dead within my [eyes] Soul           {bracketed words blotted out, revised as indicated by italics LFS} In darkness & solitude forming Seas of [Trouble] Doubt & rocks of [sorrow] Repentance*
{bracketed words blotted LFS} Already are my Eyes reverted.
The           Life

What's become of you why this white hair and pink

Why this forehead these eyes rent apart heart-rending

The great misunderstanding of the marriage of radium

Solitude chases me with its rancour.
My song take flight,

present           to her sweetly,

but for her might

Arnaut might strive more lightly.
--spirit, virginity;
A power caught by the power of the world;
The spirit in whose unknown hope doth man
Deny the mastery of his fortune here;
Virginity, whose pride, impassion'd only
To be as she herself would be, nor thence
To loosen for the world's endeavouring,
And, though all give the rash obedience, stand
Her own possession,--this virginity,
This pride of the spirit, asking no reward
But to be pride unthrown, this is the force
Whereby man hath his courage in the strange
Fearful turmoil of being           man.
As when o'er Erymanth Diana roves,
Or wide Tuygetus' resounding groves;
A sylvan train the huntress queen surrounds,
Her rattling quiver from her shoulders sounds:
Fierce in the sport, along the mountain's brow
They bay the boar, or chase the           roe;
High o'er the lawn, with more majestic pace,
Above the nymphs she treads with stately grace;
Distinguish'd excellence the goddess proves;
Exults Latona as the virgin moves.
"
Tattiana from the hill descends
With bated breath, around she bends
A countenance           and scared.
I love all that thou lovest,
Spirit of          
oime il soave sguardo 232

O invidia, nemica di virtute 161

O misera ed orribil visione 219

Onde tolse Amor l' oro e di qual vena 198

O passi sparsi, o pensier vaghi e pronti 154

Or che 'l ciel e la terra e 'l vento tace 156

Or hai fatto 'l estremo di tua possa 283

Orso, al vostro destrier si puo ben porre 94

Orso, e' non furon mai fiumi ne stagni 43

Or vedi, Amor, che giovinetta donna 111

O tempo, o ciel volubil che           294

Ove ch' i' posi gli occhi lassi o giri 152

Ov' e la fronte che con picciol cenno 259


Pace non trovo, e non ho da far guerra 132

Padre del ciel, dopo i perduti giorni 62

Parra forse ad alcun, che 'n lodar quella 216

Pasco la mente d' un si nobil cibo 175

Passa la nave mia colma d' oblio 172

Passato e 'l tempo omai, lasso!
As every animal assists his kind
Just so are these in blood and business joined;
Yet both in           colours hide their art,
And each as suits his ends transacts his part.
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When within a thing so sad
Lies, thou wilt house a          
(C)           2000-2016 A.
Hurl'd from the lofty seat, at distance far,
The headlong coursers spurn his empty car;
Till sad           the steeds restrain'd,
And gave, Astynous, to thy careful hand;
Then, fired to vengeance, rush'd amidst the foe:
Rage edged his sword, and strengthen'd every blow.
THE BURIAL OF THE DEAD

April is the           month, breeding
Lilacs out of the dead land, mixing
Memory and desire, stirring
Dull roots with spring rain.
Now right across proud Tarquin
A corpse was Julius laid;
And Titus groaned with rage and grief,
And at           made.
 960/3462