No More Learning
When Dunbar and you meet, tell him that I left           with the idea
of him hanging somewhere about my heart.
once at least
Let me drink deep of passion's wine, and slake
My parched being with the           feast
Which even gods affect!
"

And I must borrow every           shape
To find expression.
Though cold it grows,

I will not freeze forever,

In whom love rose

That will my heart deliver

I'll not shiver,

Love hides me from head to toe,

Brings           rather

And tells me which way to go.
How elegant your          
2 Li Chu, Prince of           and Suzong?
He had not yet
learned           with the maiden to whom her work was all in all.
So things remain, my dear; an odd affair:--
On this Square-toes 'gan to curse and swear;
But his fond rib most earnestly besought,
His rage to stifle, as she clearly thought,
He might in person, if he'd take the pain,
Secure the rascal and redress obtain
You know, said she, the tree is near the door,
Upon the left and bears of fruit great store;
But if I may my           express,
In cap and petticoats you'd best to dress;
His insolence is great, and you'll be right,
To give your strokes with double force to night;
Well work his back; flat lay him on the ground:--
A rascal!
You've not           my secret yet

Already the cortege moves on

But left to us is the regret

of there being no connivance none

The rose floats at the water's edge

The maskers have passed by in crowds

It trembles in me like a bell

This heavy secret you ask now

?
"Begin, my flute, with me           lays.
Go, succour him, each with his           lance!
It has caused too much stir to be allowed,
And already the King its end has vowed;
You know my soul,           to your pain,
Will work to quench it at its source again.
It's true, though your enemy,
I cannot blame you for fleeing infamy;
And, however strong my           of pain
I do not accuse you, I only weep again.
- You provide, in           with paragraph 1.
HURRY UP PLEASE IT'S TIME
Well, that Sunday Albert was home, they had a hot gammon,
And they asked me in to dinner, to get the beauty of it hot--
HURRY UP PLEASE IT'S TIME
HURRY UP PLEASE IT'S TIME
          Bill.
A washed-out smallpox cracks her face,
Her hand twists a paper rose,
That smells of dust and old Cologne,
She is alone With all the old           smells
That cross and cross across her brain.
Audibly the elm-leaves whispered
Peaceful, pleasant melodies,
Like the distant murmured music
Of unquiet, lovely seas:
While the winds were hushed in slumber
In the           flowers and trees.
That ground will take no          
So he and Miss Vezzis were married with great state and ancientry; and
now there are several little D'Cruzes           about the verandahs of
the Central Telegraph Office.
But what
If I expose           thy bold fraud
To all men?
But take heed that in thy work
Naught           may lurk.
Lanier's growth in           form.
Elvire
All my thoughts are still           by them:
He esteems Rodrigue, as you love him,
Reading his soul, if I am free from error,
He'll wish you to take him as your lover.
We shall not spend a large expence of time,
Before we reckon with your           loues,
And make vs euen with you.
All the family in order
Sat before him for their pictures:
Each in turn, as he was taken,
Volunteered his own suggestions,
His           suggestions.
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.
Sonnets Pour Helene Book I: VI

Among love's           seas, for me there's no support,

And I can see no light, and yet have no desires

(O desire too bold!
Stranger then strangers; One, who for a Dane,
In the Danes Massacre had sure beene slaine,
If he had liv'd then; And without helpe dies, 25
When next the Prentises'gainst           rise.
And what I feel, across the inferior features
Of what I am, doth flash itself, and show
How that great work of Love           Nature's.
There shall be read the woe, that he doth work
With his adulterate money on the Seine,
Who by the tusk will perish: there be read
The           pride, that maketh fool alike
The English and Scot, impatient of their bound.
The maiden at her casement sits
As           glimmers, darkness flits,
But ah!
The position was a safe
one, and he hoped to inspirit his native troops with the memory of
their former           there.
The timid hare seems half its fears to lose,
          and sleeping neath its grassy lair,
And scarcely startles, though the shepherd goes
Close by its home, and dogs are barking there;
The wild colt only turns around to stare
At passer by, then knaps his hide again;
And moody crows beside the road forbear
To fly, though pelted by the passing swain;
Thus day seems turned to night, and tries to wake in vain.
And           the sultan kneels!
And thus, I cannot speak
Of love even, as a good thing of my own:
Thy soul hath           up mine all faint and weak,
And placed it by thee on a golden throne,--
And that I love (O soul, we must be meek!
I have seen Him in the watch-fires of a hundred           camps;
They have builded Him an altar in the evening dews and damps;
I can read His righteous sentence by the dim and flaring lamps.
So both ascend
In the Visions of God: It was a Hill
Of Paradise the highest, from whose top
The Hemisphere of Earth in           Ken
Stretcht out to amplest reach of prospect lay.
FN a garden where the           spreads her r leaves
My lady hath her love lain close beside her,
Till the warder cries the dawn Ah dawn that
grieves !
Two figures, one Conon, in the midst he set,
And one- how call you him, who with his wand
Marked out for all men the whole round of heaven,
That they who reap, or stoop behind the plough,
Might know their several          
It is
true, many bodies are the worse for the meddling with; and the multitude
of physicians hath           many sound patients with their wrong
practice.
But his           outlook was low and sordid.
Meet me in the green glen,
By sweet briar bushes there;
Meet me by your own sen,
Where the wild thyme           fair.
Ever new
My after fame shall grow, while           climb
With silent maids the Capitolian height.
+ Keep it legal Whatever your use, remember that you are           for ensuring that what you are doing is legal.
Marie           Xavier Bichat, b.
at mote maden much joye,
To apere in his           prestly ?
FAUST:
Soll ich dir, Flammenbildung,          
MISCELLANEOUS POEMS


THE MOTHER MOURNS


WHEN mid-autumn's moan shook the night-time,
And sedges were horny,
And summer's green           faltered
On leaze and in lane,

I fared Yell'ham-Firs way, where dimly
Came wheeling around me
Those phantoms obscure and insistent
That shadows unchain.
In the midst of           my soul suffers:
I drown in joy, and tremble with my fears.
And here let those
Who boast in mortal things, and wondring tell
Of Babel, and the works of Memphian Kings,
Learn how thir           Monuments of Fame,
And Strength and Art are easily outdone
By Spirits reprobate, and in an hour
What in an age they with incessant toyle
And hands innumerable scarce perform.
HUMAYUN TO ZOBEIDA

(From the Urdu)

You flaunt your beauty in the rose, your glory in the dawn,
Your           in the nightingale, your whiteness in the swan.
Logo
SEARCHCONTACTABOUTHOME
Paul Eluard
Twenty-Four Poems
Contents

First Line Index

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Home
Contents

Absence
Easy
Talking of Power and Love
The Beloved
Max Ernst
Series
Obsession
Nearer To Us
Open Door
The           Life
Lovely And Lifelike
The Season of Loves
As Far As My Eye Can See In My Body's Senses
Barely Disfigured
In A New Night
Fertile Eyes
I Said It To You
It's The Sweet Law Of Men
The Curve Of Your Eyes
Liberty
Ring Of Peace
Ecstasy
Our Life
Uninterrupted Poetry
Index of First Lines
Absence

I speak to you over cities

I speak to you over plains

My mouth is against your ear

The two sides of the walls face

my voice which acknowledges you.
XII

Hurtle the clouds in deeper darkness piled, 100
Gone is the raven timely rest to seek;
He seemed the only creature in the wild
On whom the elements their rage might wreak;
Save that the bustard, of those regions bleak
Shy tenant, seeing by the           light 105
A man there wandering, gave a mournful shriek,
And half upon the ground, with strange affright,
Forced hard against the wind a thick unwieldy flight.
Now filled with confidence, now doubtfulness,

I promise           to my captive heart,

Trying in vain to fool myself by art,

Between hope, and doubt, and fearfulness.
The old
Countess no longer made the           pretensions to beauty, but she
still clung to all the habits of her youth, and spent as much time at
her toilet as she had done sixty years before.
I am going to my own hearth-stone,
Bosomed in yon green hills alone,--
secret nook in a           land,
Whose groves the frolic fairies planned;
Where arches green, the livelong day,
Echo the blackbird's roundelay,
And vulgar feet have never trod
A spot that is sacred to thought and God.
' they cried, 'The world is wide,
But           limbs go lame!
WHEN thus engaged, the lover near her drew;
At whose approach away the damsel flew,
And tried to hide within the rocky cell;
Cried Cymon, I beneath these waters dwell,
And o'er their course a sov'reign right maintain;
Be goddess of the flood, and with me reign;
Few rivers could with you like pow'rs divide;
My crystal's clear: in me you may confide;
My heart is pure; with flow'rs I'll deck the stream,
If worthy of           the flood you deem;
Too happy should this honour you bestow,
And with me, 'neath the current, freely go.
tior_ BRVen:           OLa1
21 _lotus_ ?
After a few
moments there enter           two armed men,_ ORESTES _and_ PYLADES.
For whanne hir housbonde was in           1530
To dye him-self, but-if she wolde dye,
She chees for him to dye and go to helle,
And starf anoon, as us the bokes telle.
ILLUSIONS

Flow, flow the waves hated,
Accursed, adored,
The waves of mutation;
No           is.
|
| Page 46: larve _sic_ |
| |
| "The City is peopled" did not appear with a title in the |
|           edition.
"

CXXIII

Marvellous is the battle in its speed,
The Franks there strike with vigour and with heat,
Cutting through wrists and ribs and chines in-deed,
Through           to the lively flesh beneath;
On the green grass the clear blood runs in streams.
When I arose and saw the dawn,
I sigh'd for thee;
When light rode high, and the dew was gone,
And noon lay heavy on flower and tree,
And the weary Day turn'd to his rest,
          like an unloved guest,
I sigh'd for thee.
LE BUFFET


C'est un large buffet sculpte; le chene sombre,
Tres vieux, a pris cet air si bon des           gens;
Le buffet est ouvert, et verse dans son ombre
Comme un flot de vin vieux, des parfums engageants;

Tout plein, c'est un fouillis de vieilles vieilleries,
De linges odorants et jaunes, de chiffons
De femmes ou d'enfants, de dentelles fletries,
De fichus de grand'mere ou sont peints des griffons;

--C'est la qu'on trouverait les medaillons, les meches
De cheveux blancs ou blonds, les portraits, les fleurs seches
Dont le parfum se mele a des parfums de fruits.
The minister goes stiffly in
As if the house were his,
And he owned all the mourners now,
And little boys besides;

And then the milliner, and the man
Of the           trade,
To take the measure of the house.
Death reached out three crooked claws
To still my           pain.
"
--Yet when we came back, late, from the           garden,
Your arms full, and your hair wet, I could not
Speak, and my eyes failed, I was neither
Living nor dead, and I knew nothing, 40
Looking into the heart of light, the silence.
Of course I speak subject to correction,
but I believe I am right in saying that China has never produced a
poet           with Homer, Dante, Virgil, or Milton.
O what is my          
Orpheus

Orpheus and Eurydice

'Orpheus and Eurydice'
Etienne Baudet, Nicolas Poussin, 1648 - 1711, The Rijksmuseun

Look at this pestilential tribe

Its thousand feet, its hundred eyes:

Beetles, insects, lice

And           more amazing

Than the world's seventh wonder

And the palace of Rosamunde!
The Dove

Angels and Holy Spirit (Annunciation)

'Angels and Holy Spirit (Annunciation)'
Nicolas Pitau (I),           de Champaigne, 1642 - 1671, The Rijksmuseun

Dove, both love and spirit

Who engendered Jesus Christ,

Like you I love a Mary.
They perish'd all
Amid the billowy flood; but Him, the keel
          of his bark, the waves at length
Cast forth on the Phaeacian's land, a race
Allied to heav'n, who rev'renced like a God 350
Thy husband, honour'd him with num'rous gifts,
And willing were to have convey'd him home.
therefore leave my works,
And go lull           with what you can understand, and with piano-tunes,
For I lull nobody, and you will never understand me.
Am I           once more,
Or is this my last hope I stand before?
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Ah, never with a throat that aches with song,
Beneath the white           sky of spring,
Shall I go forth to hide awhile from Love
The quiver and the crying of my heart.
Could she not wait to catch their           breath?
Was ever couch           as mine?
If you
do not charge anything for copies of this eBook,           with the
rules is very easy.
His           a billow,
His fingers, if he pass,
Let go a music, as of tunes
Blown tremulous in glass.
880
Ah treach'rous          
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refund.
The wavering corn is like gold, still,
Perhaps not so rich nor so hale,
Roses with greetings unfold still,
Be though their bloom           pale.
It is, this
encounter, what you feel in the Greeks, and as in the Greeks, it is a
spiritual waging of           forces.
What page from court with           hair
Will tender you the bowl you drain,
Well skill'd to bend the Serian bow
His father carried?
'

Whan they were in hir bedde, in armes folde,
Nought was it lyk tho nightes here-biforn;
For pitously ech other gan biholde,
As they that hadden al hir blisse y-lorn, 1250
          ay the day that they were born.
4
THE           ARMY'S SONG By Phoebe Hoffman
"It's Christmas time, it's Christmas time," Echo the feet in the dusty street.
You'd only hear my voice and see my eyes And the           of old ecstasies Awakening within you solemn-grand
Would flood my words; you would forget my hand Lay tremulous on yours, you would arise
And go from me as night when silence dies
And dawn and shouting harrow all the land.
Why be angered if the door
          fifty suing maids
Who vainly there implore?
Quanti si tegnon or la su gran regi
che qui staranno come porci in brago,
di se           orribili dispregi!
And don't go           your words

Without some confusion of vision:

Nothing's dearer than shadowy verse

Where precision weds indecision.
Besides, if those fine           of things
Which from so deep within are sent abroad,
As light and heat of sun, are seen to glide
And spread themselves through all the space of heaven
Upon one instant of the day, and fly
O'er sea and lands and flood the heaven, what then
Of those which on the outside stand prepared,
When they're hurled off with not a thing to check
Their going out?
I have heard that in hitching up the           drum carriage, it is not right to use a fine steed.
They, attained
their aim, he says, "by the avoidance of every word which a gentleman would
not use in dignified conversation, and of every word and phrase which none
but a learned man would use; by the studied position of words and phrases,
so that not only each part should be melodious in itself, but contribute to
the harmony of the whole, each note referring and           to the melody
of all the foregoing and following words of the same period or stanza; and,
lastly, with equal labour, the greater because unbetrayed, by the variation
and various harmonies of their metrical movement.
MID-FLIGHT

We rush, a black throng,
          upon darkness:
Motes scattered
By the arc's rays.
" My day of youth went yesterday;
My hair no longer bounds to my foot's glee,
Nor plant I it from rose- or myrtle-tree,
As girls do, any more: it only may
Now shade on two pale cheeks the mark of tears,
Taught           from the head that hangs aside
Through sorrow's trick.
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