Let whoso hath been With
worthier
works concerned, display his wares !
Ezra-Pound-Provenca-English
Whathastthouwrought, Or brought, or sought wherewith to pay the fee?
"
IL CUORE
Ronsard me celebroit! behold I give
The age-old, age-old fare to fairer fair
And I fare forth into more bitter air;
Though mocked I go, yet shall her beauty live Till rimes unrime and Truth shall truth unlearn. "
63
"If naught I give, naught do I take return. *'
? : SONNET
on the tally-board of wasted days
IF write me for They daily
proud idleness, Let high Hell summons me, and I confess,
No overt act the preferred charge allays.
To-day I thought what boots it what I thought? Poppies and gold ! Why should I blurt it out? Or hawk the magic of her name about
Deaf doors and dungeons where no truth is brought ?
Who calls me idle? I have thought of her. Who calls me idle? By God's truth I 've seen The arrowy sunlight in her golden snares.
Let him among you all stand summonser
Who hath done better things !
Let whoso hath been With worthier works concerned, display his wares !
CANZON: THE YEARLY SLAIN (Written in reply to Manning's "Kor^k") . ^9
^-<-j ^-*? Ethuiusmodistantiaeususestfereinomnibuscantionibussuis
"
A rnaldus Danielis et nos eum. secut, sumus. DANTE, De Vulgari Eloquio, II. 10. )
red-leafed time hath driven out the rose AH! And crimson dew is fallen on the leaf
Ere ever yet the cold white wheat be sown That hideth all earth's green and sere and red ;
64
? The Moon-flower 's fallen and the branch is bare, Canzon:
Holding no honey for the starry bees;
The Maiden turns to her dark lord's demesne.
Fairer than Enna's field when Ceres sows
The stars of hyacinth and puts off grief,
Fairer than petals on May morning blown Through apple-orchards where the sun hath shed
His brighter petals down to make them fair; Fairer than these the Poppy-crowned One flees, And Joy goes weeping in her scarlet train.
m
The faint damp wind that, ere the even, blows
Piling the west with many a tawny sheaf,
Then when the last glad wavering hours are mown Sigheth and dies because the day is sped;
This wind is like her and the listless air Wherewith she goeth by beneath the trees,
The trees that mock her with their scarlet stain.
IV
Love that is born of Time and comes and goes ! Love that doth hold all noble hearts in fief!
As red leaves follow where the wind hath flown, So all men follow Love when Love is dead.
O Fate of Wind !
IL CUORE
Ronsard me celebroit! behold I give
The age-old, age-old fare to fairer fair
And I fare forth into more bitter air;
Though mocked I go, yet shall her beauty live Till rimes unrime and Truth shall truth unlearn. "
63
"If naught I give, naught do I take return. *'
? : SONNET
on the tally-board of wasted days
IF write me for They daily
proud idleness, Let high Hell summons me, and I confess,
No overt act the preferred charge allays.
To-day I thought what boots it what I thought? Poppies and gold ! Why should I blurt it out? Or hawk the magic of her name about
Deaf doors and dungeons where no truth is brought ?
Who calls me idle? I have thought of her. Who calls me idle? By God's truth I 've seen The arrowy sunlight in her golden snares.
Let him among you all stand summonser
Who hath done better things !
Let whoso hath been With worthier works concerned, display his wares !
CANZON: THE YEARLY SLAIN (Written in reply to Manning's "Kor^k") . ^9
^-<-j ^-*? Ethuiusmodistantiaeususestfereinomnibuscantionibussuis
"
A rnaldus Danielis et nos eum. secut, sumus. DANTE, De Vulgari Eloquio, II. 10. )
red-leafed time hath driven out the rose AH! And crimson dew is fallen on the leaf
Ere ever yet the cold white wheat be sown That hideth all earth's green and sere and red ;
64
? The Moon-flower 's fallen and the branch is bare, Canzon:
Holding no honey for the starry bees;
The Maiden turns to her dark lord's demesne.
Fairer than Enna's field when Ceres sows
The stars of hyacinth and puts off grief,
Fairer than petals on May morning blown Through apple-orchards where the sun hath shed
His brighter petals down to make them fair; Fairer than these the Poppy-crowned One flees, And Joy goes weeping in her scarlet train.
m
The faint damp wind that, ere the even, blows
Piling the west with many a tawny sheaf,
Then when the last glad wavering hours are mown Sigheth and dies because the day is sped;
This wind is like her and the listless air Wherewith she goeth by beneath the trees,
The trees that mock her with their scarlet stain.
IV
Love that is born of Time and comes and goes ! Love that doth hold all noble hearts in fief!
As red leaves follow where the wind hath flown, So all men follow Love when Love is dead.
O Fate of Wind !
