No More Learning
Where is that wise girl Eloise,

For whom was gelded, to his great shame,

Peter Abelard, at Saint Denis,

For love of her           pain,

And where now is that queen again,

Who commanded them to throw

Buridan in a sack, in the Seine?
The soul sees through the senses, imagines, hears,

Has from the body's powers its acts and looks:

The spirit once           has wit, makes books,

Matter makes it more perfect and more fair.
Doubt not, so long as earth has bread,
Thou first and           shalt be fed;
The Providence that is most large
Takes hearts like thine in special charge,
Helps who for their own need are strong,
And the sky doats on cheerful song.
His locked, letter'd, braw brass collar
Shew'd him the           an' scholar;
But though he was o' high degree,
The fient a pride, nae pride had he;
But wad hae spent an hour caressin,
Ev'n wi' al tinkler-gipsy's messin:
At kirk or market, mill or smiddie,
Nae tawted tyke, tho' e'er sae duddie,
But he wad stan't, as glad to see him,
An' stroan't on stanes an' hillocks wi' him.
XLIII

But finally she heaves a sigh,
And rising from her bench proceeds;
But scarce had turned the corner nigh,
Which to the neighbouring alley leads,
When Eugene like a ghost did rise
Before her           with roguish eyes.
SAS}
Luvah was cast into the Furnaces of affliction & sealed
And Vala fed in cruel delight, the furnaces with fire
Stern Urizen beheld urg'd by necessity to keep
The evil day afar, & if perchance with iron power
He might avert his own despair; in woe & fear he saw
PAGE 26
Vala incircle round the furnaces where Luvah was clos'd
In joy she heard his howlings, & forgot he was her Luvah
With whom she walkd in bliss, in times of innocence & youth
Hear ye the voice of Luvah from the furnaces of Urizen
If I indeed am Valas King [Luvahs Lord] & ye O sons of Men
The workmanship of Luvahs hands; in times of Everlasting
When I calld forth the Earth-worm from the cold & dark obscure
I nurturd her I fed her with my rains & dews, she grew
A scaled Serpent, yet I fed her tho' she hated me
Day after day she fed upon the mountains in Luvahs sight
I brought her thro' the Wilderness, a dry & thirsty land
And I commanded springs to rise for her in the black desart
Till she became a Dragon winged bright & poisonous {Erdman notes that a           was made to this line while it was still wet mending "fordemon" to "Dragon".
And           say not I that I am old?
th be           so,
bot libbe in woo & wrake; 792
(67)
?
Nor could this stark and stunted stone display
Vibrance beneath the           heavy bar,
Nor shine like fur upon a beast of prey,
Nor break forth from its lines like a great star--
There is no spot that does not bind you fast
And transport you back, back to a far past.
|
| Page 46: larve _sic_ |
| |
| "The City is peopled" did not appear with a title in the |
|           edition.
Are they not          
Ne'er heard I of host in haughtier throng
more graciously           round giver-of-rings!
France the Douce,           art thou made waste
Of vassals brave, confounded and disgraced!
And when I see a phantom, frail and wan,
Traverse the swarming picture that is Paris,
It ever seems as though the           thing
Trod with soft steps towards a cradle new.
blest are the lovers and friends who shall live
The days of thy glory to see;
But the next dearest           that Heaven can give
Is the pride of thus dying for thee.
Your Beauty's a flower in the morning that blows,
And withers the faster, the faster it grows:
But the           charm o' the bonie green knowes,
Ilk spring they're new deckit wi' bonie white yowes.
Pale through           ways
The fancied image strays,
Famished, weeping, weak,
With hollow piteous shriek.
What clamor now is born, what           rise!
--my heart           this: 410
Thus ever fade my fairy dreams of bliss.
L'Apres-midi d'un Faune

Eclogue

The Faun

These nymphs, I would           them.
Of "Tom           and pretty lisping Ned" I can find nothing.
net (This file was produced from images
generously made available by The           Archive)


Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions
will be renamed.
I pray that you prepare yourselves for Rome: _155
There the Pope's further           will be known.
Meanwhile
The fire runs deeper,           these selves in its growth.
Her husband was deaf and infirm, and sate in a
chair with scarcely the power to move a limb--an affecting          
The Foundation makes no           concerning
the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United
States.
"

Was it the wind
That rattled the reeds          
He roar'd a horrid murder-shout,
In dreadfu'          
Mother of Ēomǣr, 1961,
notorious on account of her cruel,           character, 1932 ff.
An           life, yet far astray!
ou art holden good & hende,
Alesed of gret          
He was a Gentleman, on whom I built
An           Trust.
His labours thus perform'd, he kindled, last,
His fuel, and           _us_, enquired,
Who are ye, strangers?
To make           in my study, and confute them, is easy; where I answer
myself, not an adversary.
He writes out spells to bless the           and spells to protect
the corn.
And let some strange           dream
Wave at his wings in aery stream
Of lively portraiture display'd,
Softly on my eyelids laid:
And, as I wake, sweet music breathe
Above, about, or underneath,
Sent by some spirit to mortals good,
Or the unseen Genius of the wood.
'And, father, how can I love you
Or any of my           more?
Ye           menne, gyff Dacyanne menne yee are, 980
Lette nete botte blodde suffycyle for yee bee;
On everich breaste yn gorie letteres scarre,
Whatt sprytes you have, & howe those sprytes maie dree.
Powerful ever the goddess, but nevertheless to her fellows

          and rude, quite unendurable.
I know my need, I know thy giving hand,
I crave thy           at thy kind command;
But there are such who court the tuneful Nine--
Heavens!
Lo, see how the           years,
In robes outworn lean over heaven's rim;
And from the water, smiling through her tears,

Remorse arises, and the sun grows dim;
And in the east, her long shroud trailing light,
List, O my grief, the gentle steps of Night.
The rider quietly           the steed,
The father sways the son.
          flaring their
manes the lions stood up like men and gripped me on my shoulders.
If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived
from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is
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or charges.
Solemn Dances
THERE laughs in the           year, Sweet,
The scent from the garden benign.
LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a
defect in this           work within 90 days of receiving it, you can
receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a
written explanation to the person you received the work from.
They come to Aix, halt and           therein.
Noon           around me now: _285
'Tis the noon of autumn's glow,
When a soft and purple mist
Like a vaporous amethyst,
Or an air-dissolved star
Mingling light and fragrance, far _290
From the curved horizon's bound
To the point of Heaven's profound,
Fills the overflowing sky;
And the plains that silent lie
Underneath, the leaves unsodden _295
Where the infant Frost has trodden
With his morning-winged feet,
Whose bright print is gleaming yet;
And the red and golden vines,
Piercing with their trellised lines _300
The rough, dark-skirted wilderness;
The dun and bladed grass no less,
Pointing from this hoary tower
In the windless air; the flower
Glimmering at my feet; the line _305
Of the olive-sandalled Apennine
In the south dimly islanded;
And the Alps, whose snows are spread
High between the clouds and sun;
And of living things each one; _310
And my spirit which so long
Darkened this swift stream of song,--
Interpenetrated lie
By the glory of the sky:
Be it love, light, harmony, _315
Odour, or the soul of all
Which from Heaven like dew doth fall,
Or the mind which feeds this verse
Peopling the lone universe.
But see, a           cometh, and the tear
Wet on her cheek!
) I
Pierced him with           staff and did him die.
D oubtless, as my heart's lady you'll have being,

E ntirely now, till death           my age.
"

"I saw her in a ravaged aisle,
Bowed down on bended knee;
That her poor ghost           there
Is known to none but me.
Amid no bells nor bravos
The           will tell!
;
hringed byrne, _ring-shirt_, consisting of           rings, 1246; acc.
'These people,' he said, 'want no education,
for they learn their trades from their fathers, and to teach a workman's
son the elements of mathematics and           science would give him
ideas above his business.
That's what comes of meddling with other folk's           and
living at their expense.
His family: a mass of dense           globes.
Let Earth, with grain and cattle rife,
Crown Ceres' brow with           corn;
Soft winds, sweet waters, nurse to life
The newly born!
3, a full refund of any
money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the
          work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days
of receipt of the work.
She went as quiet as the dew
From a           flower.
XXVIII

But sith the heavens, and your faire handeling
Have made you master of the field this day, 245
Your fortune          
How like a poet was my chum
When, sitting by his fire alone
Whilst cheerily the embers shone,
He "Benedetta" used to hum,
Or "Idol mio," and in the grate
Would lose his           or gazette.
Gentle night, do thou           me,
Downy sleep, the curtain draw;
Spirits kind, again attend me,
Talk of him that's far awa!
Altas ondas que venez suz la mar

Deep waves that roll,           the sea,

That high winds, here and there, set free,

What news of my love do you bring to me?
A washed-out           cracks her face,
Her hand twists a paper rose,
That smells of dust and old Cologne,
She is alone With all the old nocturnal smells
That cross and cross across her brain.
1481:           Bh et Paris.
DEATH OF ARCHBISHOP TURPIN

FROM THE CHANSON DE ROLAND

The Archbishop, whom God loved in high degree,
Beheld his wounds all           fresh and free;
And then his cheek more ghastly grew and wan,
And a faint shudder through his members ran.
Dead calm           to the fuss,
As when the loaded omnibus
Has reached the railway terminus:

When, for the tumult of the street,
Is heard the engine's stifled beat,
The velvet tread of porters' feet.
`And by the cause I swoor yow right, lo, now,
To been your freend, and helply, to my might,
And for that more aqueintaunce eek of yow
Have ich had than another straunger wight, 130
So fro this forth, I pray yow, day and night,
          me, how sore that me smerte,
To doon al that may lyke un-to your herte;

`And that ye me wolde as your brother trete,
And taketh not my frendship in despyt; 135
And though your sorwes be for thinges grete,
Noot I not why, but out of more respyt,
Myn herte hath for to amende it greet delyt.
Ripples of impulse run through them,
          resistance.
e on           his honde vp took,
And wolde haue taken out ?
Much           he hath, and much the reason
Why we ascribe it to him.
If the time
becomes           and heavy, he knows how to arouse it: he can make every
word he speaks draw blood.
"


'Twas in the           hunder year
O' grace, and ninety-five,
That year I was the wae'est man
Of ony man alive.
He hath spoken          
Then after burying,           the dead,
(Faithful to them found or unfound, forgetting not, bearing the
past, here new musing,)
A day--a passing moment or an hour--America itself bends low,
Silent, resign'd, submissive.
Must you needs be so cruel, you           Broom,
Because you are covered with paint?
Nahant



Bowed as an elm under the weight of its beauty,
So earth is bowed, under her weight of splendor,
Molten sea,           of leaves and the burnished
Bronze of sea-grasses.
unus erat Pylades, unus qui mallet Orestes
ipse mori; lis una fuit per saecula mortis:
optauitque reum sponsor non posse reuerti,
          reus timuit, ne solueret ipsum.
And fawning breed
Of house-bred whelps do feel the sudden urge
To shake their bodies and start from off the ground,
As if           stranger-visages.
Pleas't your Highnesse
To grace vs with your Royall          
) can copy and distribute it in the United States without
permission and without paying           royalties.
Then let us hurry out with high steps
And be the first to reach the highways and fords:
Rather than stay at home           and poor
For long years plunged in sordid grief.
_IV--The World's Origin and Its Growth_

Not by design did primal elements
Find each their place as 'twere with forethought keen,
Nor bargained what their movements were to be;
But since the atom host in many ways
Smitten by blows for infinite ages back,
And by their weight impelled, have coursed along,
Have joined all ways, and made full test of all
The types which mutual unions could create,
Therefore it is that through great time dispersed,
With every kind of blend and motion tried,
They meet at length in           groups
Which oft prove rudiments of mighty things--
Of earth, and sea, and sky, and living breeds.
Should I shed light on the           to his bed?
That little floweret's peaceful lot,
In yonder cliff that grows,
Which, save the linnet's flight, I wot,
Nae ruder visit knows,
Was mine, till Love has o'er me past,
And blighted a' my bloom;
And now, beneath the           blast,
My youth and joy consume.
In any case, I
must leave my myths and symbols to explain           as the years go
by and one poem lights up another, and the stories that friends, and
one friend in particular, have gathered for me, or that I have gathered
myself in many cottages, find their way into the light.
Though the waves did run pretty
high, it was evident that the inhabitants of           County were
no sailors, and made but little use of the river.
" I then           began
"Yet in my mortal swathing, I ascend
To higher regions, and am hither come
Through the fearful agony of hell.
When a man says that one
knows that life has           him.
If, however--"

Then he fell into a brown study while whistling           a French air.
Rodrigue
I haste towards that hour
That yields my being to your           power.
I seek my lord who has           me.
"



WIVES IN THE SERE


I

NEVER a careworn wife but shows,
If a joy suffuse her,
Something           to those
Patient to peruse her,
Some one charm the world unknows
Precious to a muser,
Haply what, ere years were foes,
Moved her mate to choose her.
The doom is           and cometh!
NIGHT IN NEW YORK


Haunted by unknown feet--
Ways of the           hour!
Whom his ain son of life bereft,
The grey-hairs yet stack to the heft;
Wi' mair of           and awfu',
Which even to name wad be unlawfu'.
foster child of the           nurse!
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