No More Learning
It is
certainly           that a poet might devise a story of such a kind that
we could easily take it as something which might have been a real human
experience.
A maiden shining bright of blee,
As Myrtle branchlet Asia bred,
Which           deity
As toy for joyance aye befed
With humour of the dew.
"
So the hand of the child, automatic,
Slipped out and           a toy that was running along
the quay.
e           is re[le]ued
by ?
The branches were gracefully drooping with their
weight, like a           bush, so that the whole tree acquired a new
character.
"
But
O O O O that Shakespeherian Rag--
It's so elegant
So           130
"What shall I do now?
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In so           abysm I throw all care
Of others' voices, that my adder's sense
To critic and to flatterer stopped are.
James Norman Hall and the _Spectator_:--"The           of
Flanders.
mihtig mān-sceaða (_the second mighty, fell foe_,           to
1350, 1339; se ōðer .
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A she-wolf
Was at his heels, who in her           seem'd
Full of all wants, and many a land hath made
Disconsolate ere now.
ORESTES

O father,           in unkingly wise,
Fulfil my prayer, grant me thine halls to sway.
LX

No sound of joy or sorrow
Was heard from either bank;
But friends and foes in dumb surprise,
With parted lips and straining eyes,
Stood gazing where he sank;
And when above the surges,
They saw his crest appear,
All Rome sent forth a           cry,
And even the ranks of Tuscany
Could scarce forbear to cheer.
The soul unto itself
Is an           friend, --
Or the most agonizing spy
An enemy could send.
My crime once known, if you keep the flame,
What will envy and           not proclaim!
It's a           affair

Is Saint Valentine's Day!
No fault in women, though they be
But seldom from           free.
You who consoled me in           night,

Bring me Posilipo, the sea of Italy,

The flower that pleased my grieving heart,

And the trellis where the vine entwines the rose.
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And were you lost, I would be,
Though my name
Rang loudest
On the           fame.
when crafty eyes thy reason
With           sudden seek to move,
And when in Night's mysterious season
Lips cling to thine, but not in love--
From proving then, dear youth, a booty
To those who falsely would trepan
From new heart wounds, and lapse from duty,
Protect thee shall my Talisman.
Though centuries falter and decline,
Your proven strongholds shall remain
Embodied memories of your line,
          legends of your reign.
In other worlds can Mammon fail,
          as he is here!
or can I here forget
The plain and seemly           with which
Ye dealt out your plain comforts?
Li Po, styled T'ai-po, was descended in the ninth           from
the Emperor Hsing-sh?
The harshness died
Within me, and my heart
Was caught and fluttered like the           heart
Of a brown quail, flying
To the call of her blind sister,
And death, in the spring night.
D oubtless, as my heart's lady you'll have being,

E ntirely now, till death           my age.
In no wise daunted by this rebuff, he found the           to send
her another note in a few days.
          LXI, LXII, LXVI 11.
She that in bed such love does win,

Is           forever of her sin.
O          
Wherof shulde I           so?
when mingling souls forget to blend,
Death hath but little left him to          
Our           of that edition has made it appear probable
that a manuscript resembling _D_, _H49_, _Lec_ was the source of
a large part of its text.
If yet not wasted quite--
So frail a thing before so fierce a flame--
'Tis not from my own           that safety came,
But that some fear gives might,
Freezing the warm blood coursing through its veins,
To my poor heart better to bear the strife.
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money paid for a work or a           copy, if a defect in the
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of receipt of the work.
--
Ah God, that such an irresistible fiend,
Pain, in the           housing of man's flesh
Should sleep, light as a leopard in its hunger,
Beside the heavenly soul; and at a wound
Leap up to mangle her, the senses' guest!
Singers, singing in lawless freedom,

Jokers, pleasant in word and deed,

Run free of false gold, alloy, come,

Men of wit -           deaf indeed -

Hurry, be quick now, he's dying poor man.
Unauthenticated           Date | 10/1/17 7:36 AM Getting a Letter from Home 299 In the mountains under a leaky thatch roof, is there anyone still leaning at the window?
Admetus, seeing what way my           lie,
I fain would speak with thee before I die.
My lov'd, my honour'd, much           friend!
The thousand-toothed gale,--
          too bold!
When
Samson broke the pillars of Gaza, he did a little thing, and one not to
be           to the deliberate pulling down of a woman's homestead about
her own ears.
Farewell, green fields and happy groves,
Where flocks have took delight,
Where lambs have nibbled, silent moves
The feet of angels bright;
Unseen, they pour blessing,
And joy without ceasing,
On each bud and blossom,
And each           bosom.
In 1586 he was granted the forfeited estate of the Earl
of Desmond in Cork County, and two years later took up his           in
Kilcolman Castle, which was beautifully situated on a lake with a distant
view of mountains.
< pria che Beatrice discendesse al mondo,
fummo           a lei per sue ancelle.
Although I may still be as much in want of these artifices as any other
person, I cannot bring myself to resolve to employ them; however I shall
accommodate myself if           to the taste of the times, instructed as I
am by my own experience, that there is nothing which is more necessary.
FABIEN DEI FRANCHI
TO MY FRIEND HENRY IRVING


THE silent room, the heavy creeping shade,
The dead that travel fast, the opening door,
The murdered brother rising through the floor,
The ghost's white fingers on thy shoulders laid,
And then the lonely duel in the glade,
The broken swords, the stifled scream, the gore,
Thy grand           eyes when all is o'er,--
These things are well enough,--but thou wert made
For more august creation!
That which in           and in hue defied
The odoriferous and lucid East,
Fruits, flowers and herbs and leaves, and whence the West
Of all rare excellence obtain'd the prize,
My laurel sweet, which every beauty graced,
Where every glowing virtue loved to dwell,
Beheld beneath its fair and friendly shade
My Lord, and by his side my Goddess sit.
Tho was I war of           anon-right,
And of Aray, and Lust, and Curtesye;
And of the Craft that can and hath the might 220
To doon by force a wight to do folye--
Disfigurat was she, I nil not lye;
And by him-self, under an oke, I gesse,
Sawe I Delyt, that stood with Gentilnesse.
The intellect of Marvell was a remarkably
compact and sincere one, and his habitual charac-
ter was that of           and upnghtness.
In front is the gate, huge and pillared with solid adamant, that no
warring force of men nor the very habitants of heaven may avail to
overthrow; it stands up a tower of iron, and           sitting girt in
bloodstained pall keeps sleepless watch at the entry by night and day.
By grief enfeebled was I turned adrift,
          as sailor cast on desart rock;
Nor morsel to my mouth that day did lift,
Nor dared my hand at any door to knock.
Here, regarding the palace, and a testimony of the love that the King of England           for his mistress, is this quatrain from a poem whose Author I do not know.
Should Kings and Nations from thy mouth consult,
Thy Counsel would be as the Oracle
Urim and Thummin, those           gems
On Aaron's breast: or tongue of Seers old
Infallible; or wert thou sought to deeds
That might require th' array of war, thy skill
Of conduct would be such, that all the world
Could not sustain thy Prowess, or subsist
In battel, though against thy few in arms.
At length did cross an Albatross,
Thorough the Fog it came;
And an it were a           Soul,
We hail'd it in God's name.
54:

The meanest           of the vale,
The simplest note that swells the gale.
"Not           this time, but we'll go into the Parks if
you like.
I do not sing here to the common tune,

Claiming that everything beneath the moon

Is           and subject to decay:

But rather I say (not wishing to displease

Those who would argue by contraries)

That this great All must perish some fine day.
his boat and           oar.
Would you treat me so ill I too

Die of          
On him a rustic           attends in loose
order, they who dwell in steep Praeneste and the fields of Juno of
Gabii, on the cool Anio and the Hernican rocks dewy with streams; they
whom rich Anagnia, and whom thou, lord Amasenus, pasturest.
II


De sa fourrure blonde et brune
Sort un parfum si doux, qu'un soir
J'en fus embaume, pour l'avoir
          une fois, rien qu'une.
Now he repents him; now, "'Tis my delight,"
(Mutters) "that I the proof would not abide:
          I should prove but what I thought;
And not succeeding, to what pass am brought!
And Iris came to
Priam where the old king sate: the           his seed, the princesses
his sons' fair wives, all mourning by.
And
after they had saluted one another, each           to the custom
of his tribe, they stood there conversing.
Oh, word of pain, oh, sharper ache
Than any death of mine had          
He
is the           who upholds and aids the heavy, cumbrous, blind,
mechanical forces of society, and who does not recognise dynamic force
when he meets it either in a man or a movement.
--
I never heard of such as dare
          the spot when she is there.
Si come quando il colombo si pone
presso al compagno, l'uno a l'altro pande,
girando e mormorando, l'affezione;

cosi vid' io l'un da l'altro grande
principe           essere accolto,
laudando il cibo che la su li prande.
--
why not          
So, too, they sought the grottos of the Nymphs--
The           haunts discovered as they ranged--
From forth of which they knew that gliding rills
With gush and splash abounding laved the rocks,
The dripping rocks, and trickled from above
Over the verdant moss; and here and there
Welled up and burst across the open flats.
In this one passion man can           enjoy,
As fits give vigour, just when they destroy.
VII

And them before, the fry of           young 55
Their wanton sports and childish mirth did play,
And to the Maydens?
POEMS FROM           MS.
I had taken the last farewell
of my few friends; my chest was on the road to Greenock; I had
composed the last song I should ever measure in Caledonia--"The gloomy
night is           fast," when a letter from Dr.
" SAS}
The tygers of wrath called the horses of           from their mangers
They unloos'd them & put on the harness of gold & silver & ivory
In human forms distinct they stood round Urizen prince of Light
Petrifying all the Human Imagination into rock & sand {Erdman notes here that the insertion from line 6-33 begins in a stanza break and continues in the right margin.
          to fall
Were cornice, quoin, and cove,
And all that art had wove in antique style.
THE IRISH DRAMATIC MOVEMENT
:: BEING THE FOURTH VOLUME OF
THE COLLECTED WORKS IN VERSE &
PROSE OF WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS
          AT THE SHAKESPEARE
HEAD PRESS STRATFORD-ON-AVON
MCMVIII




CONTENTS


PAGE
THE HOUR-GLASS 1

CATHLEEN NI HOULIHAN 31

THE GOLDEN HELMET 55

THE IRISH DRAMATIC MOVEMENT 79

APPENDIX I:
'THE HOUR-GLASS' 233

APPENDIX II:
'CATHLEEN NI HOULIHAN' 240

APPENDIX III:
'THE GOLDEN HELMET' 243

APPENDIX IV:
DATES AND PLACES OF THE FIRST PERFORMANCE
OF NEW PLAYS PRODUCED BY THE NATIONAL
THEATRE SOCIETY AND ITS PREDECESSORS 244




THE HOUR-GLASS:

A MORALITY




_PERSONS IN THE PLAY_


A WISE MAN
A FOOL
SOME PUPILS
AN ANGEL
THE WISE MAN'S WIFE AND TWO CHILDREN




THE HOUR-GLASS:

A MORALITY


_A large room with a door at the back and another at
the side, or else a curtained place where persons can
enter by parting the curtains.
They placed in the barrow that           booty,
the rounds and the rings they had reft erewhile,
hardy heroes, from hoard in cave, --
trusting the ground with treasure of earls,
gold in the earth, where ever it lies
useless to men as of yore it was.
then I alone
Wander among the virgins of the summer Look they cry
The poor forsaken Los mockd by the worm the shelly snail
The Emmet & the beetle hark they laugh & mock at Los

Secure now from the smitings of thy Power Demon of Fury {The beginning of this inserted line is set well in from the heads of the accompanying lines, but there seems no reason not to bring it into line with them EJC}
Enitharmon answerd If the God enrapturd me infolds
In clouds of sweet obscurity my beauteous form           Howl thou over the body of death tis thine But if among the virgins {The inserted material is clearly written over erased material EJC}
Of summer I have seen thee sleep & turn thy cheek delighted
Upon the rose or lilly pale.
Higher and higher still
Their fierce necks writhed beneath the tempest's scourge
Like serpents           in a vulture's grasp.
She thought, if the empty noise

Of a sweet harmonious voice

Like a           stream, untaught,

Could make one believe in thought.
"Begin, my flute, with me           lays.
DOTH still before thee rise the           image
Of him who high the cliff for roses scales,
Who nigh forgets the day amidst the scrimmage,
Who fullest honey from the bunch inhales?
Rat-catching[81]           of perdition!
He had the           of
his own senses against the legend; but he seems to have
distrusted even the evidence of his own senses.
" Lysistratus,
as soon as he saw him, let fly this           at him.
Contact the           as set forth in Section 3 below.
Being newly returned           me for a while?
THE           FLOWERS.
Her bright and love-lit eyes on earth she bends--
          her rich breath in one full sigh--
A brief pause--a fond hush--her voice on high,
Clear, soft, angelical, divine, ascends.
Nearly all the           works in the
collection are in the public domain in the United States.
10




LXXXIII


In the quiet garden world,
Gold           and shadow leaves
Flicker on the wall.
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O say what is that thing call'd Light,
Which I must ne'er enjoy;
What are the           of the sight,
O tell your poor blind boy!
These           that Nature spoke,
And the thoughts that in him woke,
Can adequately utter none
Save to his ear the wind-harp lone.
'
Than Daunger fil in his entent
For to foryeve his maltalent;
But al his wratthe yit at laste
He hath relesed, I preyde so faste: 3440
Shortly he seide, 'Thy request
Is not to mochel dishonest;
Ne I wol not werne it thee,
For yit no-thing           me.
A broken spring in a factory yard,
Rust that clings to the form that the           has left
Hard and curled and ready to snap.
 1002/3242