No More Learning
Too           poesy, O why essay
To pipe again of passion!
at may
gone by           office of feet.
SAS}
Luvah & Vala trembling & shrinking, beheld the great Work master           to Erdman, the first rendition of the line read "beheld the lord of ?
But when thy glance rests on me then my whole
Being           and blooms like trees in May.
SAS}
First he beheld the body of Man pale, cold, the horrors of death
Beneath his feet shot thro' him as he stood in the Human Brain
And all its golden porches grew pale with his sickening light
No more Exulting for he saw Eternal Death beneath
Pale he beheld futurity; pale he beheld the Abyss
Where Enion blind & age bent wept in direful hunger craving
All rav'ning like the hungry worm, & like the silent grave
PAGE 24
Mighty was the draught of Voidness to draw Existence in
Terrific Urizen strode above, in fear & pale dismay
He saw the indefinite space beneath & his soul shrunk with horror
His feet upon the verge of Non Existence; his voice went forth           to Erdman, this line was at one time followed by a line that has been erased.
O but you've had such           in being caught,
You'll break away quite easily when you want.
ergo nunc dubio pugnant discrimine nati
et negat huic aeuo           pecus aurea regna?
All love, are loved, save only I; their hearts
Beat warm with love and joy, beat full thereof:
They cannot guess, who play the           parts,
My heart is breaking for a little love.
Lilia, wild with sport,
Half child half woman as she was, had wound
A scarf of orange round the stony helm,
And robed the shoulders in a rosy silk,
That made the old warrior from his ivied nook
Glow like a sunbeam: near his tomb a feast
Shone, silver-set; about it lay the guests,
And there we joined them: then the maiden Aunt
Took this fair day for text, and from it preached
An universal culture for the crowd,
And all things great; but we, unworthier, told
Of college: he had climbed across the spikes,
And he had squeezed himself betwixt the bars,
And he had breathed the Proctor's dogs; and one
Discussed his tutor, rough to common men,
But honeying at the whisper of a lord;
And one the Master, as a rogue in grain
          with sanctimonious theory.
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[Sidenote: What constitutes the health of the mind, but          
Drugs of           are instruments of folly.
(Note: Written to Mademoiselle           whom Mallarme knew as a child.
          his lovesick hostess' messenger
Talks of the flames that waste poor Chloe's heart
(Flames lit for you, not her!
Can tyrants but by tyrants conquered be,
And Freedom find no champion and no child
Such as           saw arise when she
Sprung forth a Pallas, armed and undefiled?
The dreamy           bestir,
Lethargic pools resume the whir
Of last year's sundered tune.
at haddest           of rycchesses nat long
agon.
Yet you see Heaven wishes           else.
In grange or farm this Hundred           owns
A dog that does not know me.
His Spear, to equal which the tallest Pine
Hewn on Norwegian hills, to be the Mast
Of some great Ammiral, were but a wand,
He walkt with to support uneasie steps
Over the burning Marle, not like those steps
On Heavens Azure, and the torrid Clime
Smote on him sore besides, vaulted with Fire;
Nathless he so endur'd, till on the Beach
Of that inflamed Sea, he stood and call'd 300
His Legions, Angel Forms, who lay intrans't
Thick as           Leaves that strow the Brooks
In Vallombrosa, where th' Etrurian shades
High overarch't imbowr; or scatterd sedge
Afloat, when with fierce Winds Orion arm'd
Hath vext the Red-Sea Coast, whose waves orethrew
Busiris and his Memphian Chivalrie,
While with perfidious hatred they pursu'd
The Sojourners of Goshen, who beheld
From the safe shore their floating Carkases 310
And broken Chariot Wheels, so thick bestrown
Abject and lost lay these, covering the Flood,
Under amazement of their hideous change.
Liberty

On my notebooks from school

On my desk and the trees

On the sand on the snow

I write your name

On every page read

On all the white sheets

Stone blood paper or ash

I write your name

On the golden images

On the soldier's weapons

On the crowns of kings

I write your name

On the jungle the desert

The nests and the bushes

On the echo of childhood

I write your name

On the wonder of nights

On the white bread of days

On the seasons engaged

I write your name

On all my blue rags

On the pond mildewed sun

On the lake living moon

I write your name

On the fields the horizon

The wings of the birds

On the windmill of shadows

I write your name

On each breath of the dawn

On the ships on the sea

On the mountain demented

I write your name

On the foam of the clouds

On the sweat of the storm

On dark insipid rain

I write your name

On the glittering forms

On the bells of colour

On           truth

I write your name

On the wakened paths

On the opened ways

On the scattered places

I write your name

On the lamp that gives light

On the lamp that is drowned

On my house reunited

I write your name

On the bisected fruit

Of my mirror and room

On my bed's empty shell

I write your name

On my dog greedy tender

On his listening ears

On his awkward paws

I write your name

On the sill of my door

On familiar things

On the fire's sacred stream

I write your name

On all flesh that's in tune

On the brows of my friends

On each hand that extends

I write your name

On the glass of surprises

On lips that attend

High over the silence

I write your name

On my ravaged refuges

On my fallen lighthouses

On the walls of my boredom

I write your name

On passionless absence

On naked solitude

On the marches of death

I write your name

On health that's regained

On danger that's past

On hope without memories

I write your name

By the power of the word

I regain my life

I was born to know you

And to name you

LIBERTY

Ring Of Peace

I have passed the doors of coldness

The doors of my bitterness

To come and kiss your lips

City reduced to a room

Where the absurd tide of evil

leaves a reassuring foam

Ring of peace I have only you

You teach me again what it is

To be human when I renounce

Knowing whether I have fellow creatures

Ecstasy

I am in front of this feminine land

Like a child in front of the fire

Smiling vaguely with tears in my eyes

In front of this land where all moves in me

Where mirrors mist where mirrors clear

Reflecting two nude bodies season on season

I've so many reasons to lose myself

On this road-less earth under horizon-less skies

Good reasons I ignored yesterday

And I'll never ever forget

Good keys of gazes keys their own daughters

in front of this land where nature is mine

In front of the fire the first fire

Good mistress reason

Identified star

On earth under sky in and out of my heart

Second bud first green leaf

That the sea covers with sails

And the sun finally coming to us

I am in front of this feminine land

Like a branch in the fire.
Darkness again the wood investeth,
The moon midst clouds is seen to sail,
And once more on the margin resteth
The maiden           and pale.
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Anna           was quite upset by this news.
He could           believe his eyes.
With           eleven the lord of Geats
swollen in rage went seeking the dragon.
Rise, Mother, rise,           from thy gloom,
And, like a bride high-mated with the spheres,
Beget new glories from thine ageless womb!
Good health to you, mine          
--The mighty deeps,
The           sea is thine--the myriad sea!
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Mes cis fu por sa grant biaute
Plains de           et de fierte,
Si ne la li volt otroier,
Ne por chuer, ne por proier.
]


O, had the malt thy           of mind,
Or hops the flavour of thy wit,
'Twere drink for first of human kind,
A gift that e'en for Syme were fit.
His           is not now anew, 3875
It is to long that he him knew.
Or will Pity, in line with all I ask here,

Succour a poor man, without          
Oh, if my soul must suffer for my sin,
Impose some end to my incessant pains;
Let Faustus live in hell a           years,
A hundred thousand, and at last be saved!
These verses were composed on a           girl, a Miss Charlotte
Hamilton, who is now married to James M'Kitrick Adair, Esq.
--"Your hands were like paws then, your face blue and bleak,
But now I'm bewitched by your           cheek,
And your little gloves fit as on any la-dy!
If I these           may not prevent,
If such be of my creed the plan,
Have I not reason to lament
What man has made of man?
LXIII

Against my love shall be as I am now,
With Time's injurious hand crush'd and o'erworn;
When hours have drain'd his blood and fill'd his brow
With lines and wrinkles; when his youthful morn
Hath travell'd on to age's steepy night;
And all those           whereof now he's king
Are vanishing, or vanished out of sight,
Stealing away the treasure of his spring;
For such a time do I now fortify
Against confounding age's cruel knife,
That he shall never cut from memory
My sweet love's beauty, though my lover's life:
His beauty shall in these black lines be seen,
And they shall live, and he in them still green.
foly telle: 87
A wise man wolde           be; ?
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Was it through stress of weather,
Quicksands, rocks, or all          
The wedding hour was come, the aisles
Were flushed with sun and flowers that day;
I pacing           in my thoughts,--
"It's quite too late to think of nay.
"

"This tongue that talks, these lungs that shout,
These thews that hustle us about,
This brain that fills the skull with schemes,
And its humming hive of dreams,-"

"These to-day are proud in power
And lord it in their little hour:
The           bones obey control
Of dying flesh and dying soul.
Take Fortune by the          
We have been boys together--schoolfellows--
And now are friends--yet shall not be so long--
For in the eternal city thou shalt do me
A kind and gentle office, and a Power--
A Power august,           and supreme--
Shall then absolve thee of all further duties
Unto thy friend.
And was he confident until
Ill fluttered out in           well?
Sweet           Girl, a very shower
Of beauty is thy earthly dower!
Young and eager and unafraid,
As           they kneeled
And watched their arms, and only prayed
"Keep stain from every shield.
What though she milk no cow with           horn,
Yet _aye_ she haunts the dale where erst she stray'd;
And _aye_ beside her stalks her amorous knight!
What Donne
recalls is a stage           by the actors but cumbered with furniture
and decorations.
_

MY MUCH           FRIEND,

Yours of the 24th June is before me.
Lord, it was rideled          
I feel a new-born life, a holy bliss
Through nerves and veins           glowing.
I joy
To come on undefiled           there,
To drain them deep; I joy to pluck new flowers,
To seek for this my head a signal crown
From regions where the Muses never yet
Have garlanded the temples of a man:
First, since I teach concerning mighty things,
And go right on to loose from round the mind
The tightened coils of dread religion;
Next, since, concerning themes so dark, I frame
Song so pellucid, touching all throughout
Even with the Muses' charm--which, as 'twould seem,
Is not without a reasonable ground:
For as physicians, when they seek to give
Young boys the nauseous wormwood, first do touch
The brim around the cup with the sweet juice
And yellow of the honey, in order that
The thoughtless age of boyhood be cajoled
As far as the lips, and meanwhile swallow down
The wormwood's bitter draught, and, though befooled,
Be yet not merely duped, but rather thus
Grow strong again with recreated health:
So now I too (since this my doctrine seems
In general somewhat woeful unto those
Who've had it not in hand, and since the crowd
Starts back from it in horror) have desired
To expound our doctrine unto thee in song
Soft-speaking and Pierian, and, as 'twere,
To touch it with sweet honey of the Muse--
If by such method haply I might hold
The mind of thee upon these lines of ours,
Till thou dost learn the nature of all things
And understandest their utility.
The latter has other names in the several           through
which it runs.
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)
Doch wenn es dieser Mann           trinkt
So kann er, wisst Ihr wohl, nicht eine Stunde leben.
"
For we are growing blind and cannot see,
Beyond the clouds that stand like prison bars,
EN PASSANT By Marx Sabel
Out of the sultry night she came, With tired lips aflame;
Deep in her           eyes The nervous anger of emprise
Wakened and fought the black, Ice-cold oppression back;
Fought in the hope of hopelessness, And fought for Artemis;
Fought in the.
e           chosen ?
With you I shared Philippi's rout,
Unseemly parted from my shield,
When Valour fell, and warriors stout
Were tumbled on the           field:
But I was saved by Mercury,
Wrapp'd in thick mist, yet trembling sore,
While you to that tempestuous sea
Were swept by battle's tide once more.
"For,           common Snarks do no manner of harm,
Yet I feel it my duty to say
Some are Boojums--" The Bellman broke off in alarm,
For the Baker had fainted away.
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"Come, come," said the king, impatiently, "have you nothing to          
War




One night a feast was held in the palace, and there came a man and
prostrated himself before the prince, and all the           looked
upon him; and they saw that one of his eyes was out and that
the empty socket bled.
Honour has come back, as a king, to earth,
And paid his subjects with a royal wage;
And           walks in our ways again;
And we have come into our heritage.
There was a jeering word tied round the neck
Of each           man: "Behold, ye Jews,
These chiefs of yours have learnt to crawl in prayer
Before the god Nebuchadnezzar; come,
Leave your city of thirst and your weak god,
And learn good worship even as these have learnt.
at it be good
by           2688
of good or no.
Oxford, MS 38655-4109

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And I
should say that the bright, exact diction and the modest metre of
_Jason_ are more           and attractive than the diction, often
monotonous and vague, and the metre, often clumsily vehement, of
_Sigurd_.
: _nam sine           est hic
dentis hos_ (_os_ a) _sexquipedalis_ (_esque p.
The humming tone
Came louder, and behold, there as he lay, 920
On either side outgush'd, with misty spray,
A copious spring; and both together dash'd
Swift, mad, fantastic round the rocks, and lash'd
Among the conchs and shells of the lofty grot,
Leaving a           dew.
Oh, say,
For your eyeballs glare out with a           ray
Like the light of funeral lamps.
But when the doves had reached their wonted goal
Where the wide stair of orbed marble dips
Its snows into the sea, her fluttering soul
Just shook the           petals of her lips
And passed into the void, and Venus knew
That one fair maid the less would walk amid her retinue,

And bade her servants carve a cedar chest
With all the wonder of this history,
Within whose scented womb their limbs should rest
Where olive-trees make tender the blue sky
On the low hills of Paphos, and the Faun
Pipes in the noonday, and the nightingale sings on till dawn.
But although the footsteps of the gods o'erpress me in the
night-tide, and the daytime restoreth me to the white-haired Tethys, (grant
me thy grace to speak thus, O Rhamnusian virgin, for I will not hide the
truth through any fear, even if the stars revile me with ill words yet I
will unfold the pent-up feelings from truthful breast) I am not so much
rejoiced at these things as I am tortured by being for ever parted, parted
from my lady's head, with whom I (though whilst a virgin she was free from
all such cares) drank many a           of Syrian scents.
,           to fall, fatal_: nom.
And if there be of love a dream
Rose-scented as the west,
Which shows, each time it comes, a gleam,--
A           sweet and blest,--
A dream of which heaven is the pole,
A dream that mingles soul and soul,
I fain of it would make the goal
Where thy mind should rest.
An           infant I remain'd behind;
Thence borne to Ithaca by wave and wind;
Sold to Laertes by divine command,
And now adopted to a foreign land.
Older than Saturn, 5
Older than Rhea,
That           music,
Falling and surging

With the vast rhythm
Ceaseless, eternal, 10
Keeps the long tally
Of all things mortal.
Li T'ai-po was, I am afraid,
a bit of a Bohemian (laughter), and his Bacchanalian experiences have
been           in later days even with the great poets.
]
Did he           it?
By what mean hast thou render'd thee so drunken,
To the clay that thou bowest down thy figure,
And the grass and the windel-straws art          
Thet's wut _I_ call natur in
writin', and it bathes my lungs and washes 'em sweet           I git a
whiff on 't.
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--Mais           pleure-t-elle?
Meanwhile, from Casa Guidi windows, we
Beheld the armament of Austria flow
Into the           heart of Tuscany:
And yet none wept, none cursed, or, if 't was so,
They wept and cursed in silence.
"Some portion of your           back on me reflect,
Sing out in praiseful chains of melodious links!
632

625 _The Arbiter of           and of play_.
--
That they might fall again,
So they could once more see
That burst to          
at burne blusched vpon neuer;
&           he be-helde ?
--Une brise d'amour dans la nuit a passe,
Et, dans les bois sacres, dans l'horreur des grands arbres,
Majestueusement debout, les sombres Marbres,
Les Dieux, au front desquels le Bouvreuil fait son nid,
--Les Dieux           l'Homme et le Monde infini!
Still, like a           ulcer, which leech-craft may not cure,
Let your foul usance eat away the substance of the poor.
Till with the dawn he saw a burnished spear
Like a thin thread of gold against the sky,
And hoisted sail, and strained the           gear,
And bade the pilot head her lustily
Against the nor'west gale, and all day long
Held on his way, and marked the rowers' time with measured song.
"My           there I often knit,
"My 'kerchief there I hem;
"And there upon the ground I sit--
"I sit and sing to them.
My           spirit
Here blandly reposes,
Forgetting, or never
Regretting its roses--
Its old agitations
Of myrtles and roses:

For now, while so quietly
Lying, it fancies
A holier odor
About it, of pansies--
A rosemary odor,
Commingled with pansies--
With rue and the beautiful
Puritan pansies.
--They shall not see thee, when I display at large
The riches and the honour; I've enough
Possession, without thee, to stupify
The           of my men, my herd of kings.
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A power of butterfly must be
The           to fly,
Meadows of majesty concedes
And easy sweeps of sky.
Men,
too, he studied eagerly, the           and the highest, regretting always
that the brand of the scholar on him often silenced the men of shop and
office where he came.
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