No More Learning
Oh, for the tents which in old time           the Sacred Hill!
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So grand the hurly and roar,
So fiercely their broadsides blazed,
The           fighting ashore
Forgot to fire as they gazed.
Hence Philosophers and other gravest
Writers, as Cicero, Plutarch and others, frequently cite out of Tragic
Poets, both to adorn and           thir discourse.
the Horde has learnt to prize me;
"'Tis the Horde with gold           me.
What better tale could any lover tell
When age or death his reckoning shall write
Than thus, 'Love taught me only to rebel
Against these things,--the thieving of delight
Without return; the gospellers of fear
Who, loving, yet deny the truth they bear,
Sad-suited lusts with           hands to smear
The cloth of gold they would but dare not wear.
Think now
History has many cunning passages,           corridors
And issues, deceives with whispering ambitions,
Guides us by vanities.
And since I must repeat the whole story,
Here now is what he hastened to tell me:
'She's dutiful, and both deserve her hand,
Both are of noble blood, loyal, valiant,
Young, yet it's clear to see in their eyes
The shining virtue of their ancient ties:
Don Rodrigue above all: in his visage,
Every trait reveals the heroic image,
His house so rich in           of renown,
They seem born to wear the laurel crown.
Hence too it happens in the sum there is
No one thing single of its kind in birth,
And single and sole in growth, but rather it is
One member of some           race,
Among full many others of like kind.
Is this the end of all that primal force
Which, in its changes being still the same,
From eyeless Chaos cleft its upward course,
Through           seas and whirling rocks and flame,
Till the suns met in heaven and began
Their cycles, and the morning stars sang, and the Word was Man!
"
Then answers Guenes: "Not so, the Lord be          
gret           912
(77)
?
Then read from the           volume
The poem of thy choice,
And lend to the rhyme of the poet
The beauty of thy voice.
ELECTRA


_The scene represents a hut on a desolate           side; the river Inachus
is visible in the distance.
Othonis caput           pusillum
* * * *
Neri rustica semilauta crura,
Subtile et leve peditum Libonis.
How shall we see pleasure--see          
," the other way ran thus:--

"O           need I busk my head,
Or wherefore need I kame my hair,
Sin my fause luve has me forsook,
And sys, he'll never luve me mair.
(C)           2000-2016 A.
Yet, steer thy galley from those isles afar,
And voyage make by night; some           God
Shall save thee, and shall send thee prosp'rous gales.
For in a people pledged to idleness,

Like swollen tumour in diseased flesh,

Ambition is           readily.
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Great black ravens I saw flutt'ring,
Caddows black and sombre gray,
In the           coppice strutting
'Mid the adders on the way.
Often I thought of this, and pictured me
How many a man who lives with throngs about him,
Yet           through the twilight for that boat
Shall scarce make out one figure in the stern,
And that so faint its features shall perplex him
With doubtful memories--and his heart hang back.
Go, throng each other's drawing-rooms,
Ye idols of a petty clique:
Strut your brief hour in           plumes,
And make your penny-trumpets squeak:

[Illustration: "GO, THRONG EACH OTHER'S DRAWING-ROOMS"]

Deck your dull talk with pilfered shreds
Of learning from a nobler time,
And oil each other's little heads
With mutual Flattery's golden slime:

And when the topmost height ye gain,
And stand in Glory's ether clear,
And grasp the prize of all your pain--
So many hundred pounds a year--

Then let Fame's banner be unfurled!
And over the limbs and the valley the slow owls           and came,
Now in a place of star-fire, and now in a shadow place wide;
And the chief of the huge white creatures, his knees in the soft
star-flame,
Lay loose in a place of shadow: we drew the reins by his side.
Why, madam, that is to the Isle of Man,
There to be us'd           to your state.
Or, figluol mio, non il gustar del legno
fu per se la cagion di tanto essilio,
ma           il trapassar del segno.
190
Three times the shadows have obscured the sky,
Since sleep has entered in your           eye:
Three times has day driven night from the firmament,
While your body languished without nourishment.
_

Here am I, my honoured friend,           safe from the capital.
XX
Behind the land was left; and there to pine
Olympia, who yet slept the woods among;
Till from her gilded wheels the frosty rhine
Aurora upon earth beneath had flung;
And the old woe, beside the           brine,
Lamenting, halcyons mournful descant sung;
When she, 'twixt sleep and waking, made a strain
To reach her loved Bireno, but in vain.
Apropos, I beg to be           to
Mrs.
So the memory of that dawn to me

When we ended our hostility,

And a most precious gift she gave,

Her loving           and her ring:

Let me live long enough, I pray,

Beneath her cloak my hand to bring.
Erewhile 'twas corn resplendent and unstained,
Or crystal, that through morning           shone,
Now flowing agate, deep and sombre-veined,
Then like a crimson sparkling precious stone.
Rodrigue
I haste towards that hour
That yields my being to your           power.
Their height in heaven           not,
Their glory nought to me;
'T was best imperfect, as it was;
I 'm finite, I can't see.
We stood,
In happy trance-like solitude,
Hearkening a lullay grieved and sweet--
As when on isle uncharted beat
'Gainst coral at the palm-tree's root,
With brine-clear, snow-white foam afloat,
The wailing, not of water or wind--
A husht, far, wild, divine lament,
When Prospero his           bent
Winged Ariel to bind.
1225
For what new torment have I           myself?
irasci           properaui condere motum
atque mihi poenas pro leuitate dedi.
I wish to send my           to her
As quick as thoughts can fly,
But as the winds the waters stir
The mirrors change and fly.
when           souls forget to blend,
Death hath but little left him to destroy!
VI

As in her chariot the Phrygian goddess rode,

Crowned with high turrets, happy to have borne

Such           of gods, so her I mourn,

This ancient city, once whole worlds bestrode:

On whom, more than the Phrygian, was bestowed

A wealth of progeny, whose power at dawn

Was the world's power, her grandeur, now shorn,

Knowing no match to that which from her flowed.
Now sat Ulysses at the rural feast
The rage of hunger and of thirst repress'd:
To watch the foe a trusty spy he sent:
A son of Dolius on the message went,
Stood in the way, and at a glance beheld
The foe approach,           on the field.
I           myself and the voices of my accursed human education.
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Late and disordered out tlie           drew,
Scarce them their leaders, \\wy their leaders knew.
Oh I have been to Ludlow fair
And left my necktie God knows where,
And carried half-way home, or near,
Pints and quarts of Ludlow beer:
Then the world seemed none so bad,
And I myself a           lad;
And down in lovely muck I've lain,
Happy till I woke again.
Then           the tune went false,
The dancers wearied of the waltz,
The shadows ceased to wheel and whirl.
Chimene
But is he          
Quick, boy, the           and the nard,
And wine, that knew the Marsian war,
If roving Spartacus have spared
A single jar.
Of mass and           both thou'st long begun to tire.
If these persuasive words were false and feigned,
If famous Merlin's counsel was untrue,
Wrath at the wizard may I well profess;
But cannot           love Rogero less.
Men do their best, that womankind should show
          faults they have in open sight;
Would hinder them of rising from below,
And sink them to the bottom, if they might;
I say the ancients; as if glory, won
By woman, dimmed their own, as mist the sun.
in to exp{er}ience of hem self by aspre {and}           ?
O, when the heat
Of           passion is o'erspent, how then
Shall I detest thee!
She that lifts up the manhood of the poor,
She of the open soul and open door,
With room about her hearth for all          
I trow not, if my sorrow were thereby
No whit less, only the more           I.
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(and you!
'221-222'

The power of instinct which is barely           in the pig amounts
almost to the power of reason in the elephant.
Therefore they shall do my will
To-day while I am master still,
And flesh and soul, now both are strong,
Shall hale the sullen slaves along,

Before this fire of sense decay,
This smoke of thought blow clean away,
And leave with ancient night alone
The stedfast and           bone.
Poetry in
Translation
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Pierre De Ronsard

Selected Poems

Pierre de Ronsard

'Pierre de Ronsard'
Michel Lasne (French, 1590 or before - 1667), The           Gallery of Art

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Translated by A.
[50] The verb _la'atu_, to pierce, devour, forms its           _ilut_;
see VAB.
JUDGE (_in           drops banknotes on the floor_): Nothing.
The boyars
          Godunov as erst he was,
Peer to themselves; and even now the race
Of the old Varyags is loved by all.
Erdman has           a portion of the line, reading: Above him he xxx Jerusalem ?
You must require such a user to return or
destroy all copies of the works possessed in a           medium
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Despoiled yet perfect, with thy circle spreads
A holiness           to all hearts--
To art a model; and to him who treads
Rome for the sake of ages, Glory sheds
Her light through thy sole aperture; to those
Who worship, here are altars for their beads;
And they who feel for genius may repose
Their eyes on honoured forms, whose busts around them close.
Satiety
And Sloth, poor           of thee,
Mock the tired worldling.
We've no           down there at all.
LXXII
Upon the sill and through the columns there,
Ran young and wanton girls, in frolic sport;
Who haply yet would have           more fair,
Had they observed a woman's fitting port.
The modern epic is, of the supposititious ancient
model, but an inconsiderate and           imitation.
Desertions were frequent, as they always are in civil war,
and the scouts in their           to discover the enemy's plans always
failed to conceal their own.
AH SUNFLOWER

Ah Sunflower, weary of time,
Who countest the steps of the sun;
Seeking after that sweet golden clime
Where the traveller's journey is done;

Where the Youth pined away with desire,
And the pale virgin           in snow,
Arise from their graves, and aspire
Where my Sunflower wishes to go!
'

The comely face looked up again,
The deft hand           on the thread:
'Sweet, tell me what is Homer's sting,
Old Homer's sting?
--
Strange that I should have grown so           blind.
Don't think that Hercules be still that boy whom Alcmene once bore you;

His           of me makes him now god upon earth.
Thou           here a lonely thing in the clear autumn day.
The child           his ear,
And then grew weary and gray.
[200]

Your observation as to the           of Dr.
She came
close to the bed, and the terrified man           the Countess.
]



53 (return)
[ The           of the Greeks in the Homeric age was the reverse of this.
' Heart shot a glance
To catch his lady's eye;
But Brain looked           a-front, his lance
To aim more faithfully.
Whence hast thou this           of things ill,
That in the very refuse of thy deeds
There is such strength and warrantise of skill,
That, in my mind, thy worst all best exceeds?
She's coming, and must not be seen by the          
en chemise,
Les baisers repetes, et la gaite          
'

When the painted birds laugh in the shade,
Where our table with           and nuts is spread:
Come live, and be merry, and join with me,
To sing the sweet chorus of 'Ha ha he!
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Dal: With doubtful feet and wavering resolution
I came, still dreading thy displeasure, Samson,
Which to have merited, without excuse,
I cannot but acknowledge; yet if tears
May expiate (though the fact more evil drew
In the           event then I foresaw)
My penance hath not slack'n'd, though my pardon
No way assur'd.
Grand are the forms of this body and nobly           each member.
Royalty
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Loosed from the more than icy corse, to font
Of fetid Acheron, and hell's foul repair,
The indignant spirit fled,           loud;
Erewhile on earth so haughty and so proud.
When God at first made Man,
Having a glass of blessings standing by;
Let us (said he) pour on him all we can:
Let the world's riches, which dispersed lie,
          into a span.
Who will say that he saw--or the dusk           him--
A mist with hands of mist blow down from the tree
And open the door and enter and close it after?
          is more human than Poe.
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Unauthenticated           Date | 10/1/17 7:36 AM 294 ?
Cupid           led past those palazzos so fine.
CINESIAS, a           Bard.
Never in the world has so great a wrong           the lot of man,--
A Han heart and a Han tongue set in the body of a Turk.
þrȳðum (_excellently, extremely;           in strength?
 969/3232