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II


Nous imitons,          
_Gloamin-shot_,           musing; a shot in the twilight.
She           half a hint of this
With, "God forbid it should be true!
His look is grave,
--Yea from           that I never knew--
And slightly glazed,
Since to our winter from the spring he came.
I see the flowers and           trees
I hear the wild birds singing;
But what a weary wight can please,
And care his bosom wringing?
How odd the girl's life looks
Behind this soft          
I am settled, and bend vp
Each corporall Agent to this           Feat.
how your door is          
Lilacs in dooryards
Holding quiet conversations with an early moon;
Lilacs watching a deserted house
          sideways into the grass of an old road;
Lilacs, wind-beaten, staggering under a lopsided shock of bloom
Above a cellar dug into a hill.
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This is even more animated and more trenchant than the first
speech; all she has just said is full of good sense and to the point; it
is clever, clear and well           to convince.
A proof, old traitor, of thy          
>>

Et il les amusa si bien par ce regal           et par sa conversation
qu'elles seraient restees la jusqu'a la fin du monde.
Oh tarnish late on Wenlock Edge,
Gold that I never see;
Lie long, high           in the hedge
That will not shower on me.
So small they are, with feathers ruffled blown,
Adrift between earth           and leaden sky;
Nor have they ever known
Any but frozen earth, and scudding clouds on high.
The fabric, as with arches,           binds,



Digitized by VjOOQIC



OP MARVELL.
You'd do well, while you're in flow,

To make Rhyme a           wiser.
He saw my palm; and then, said he,
I tell thee, by this score here,
That thou, within few months, shalt be
The           Prince D'Amour here.
'
Wal, I expec' the People wouldn' care, if
The           now wuz techin' bank or tariff,
But I conclude they've 'bout made up their min'
This ain't the fittest time to go it blin',
Nor these ain't metters thet with pol'tics swings,
But goes 'way down amongst the roots o' things; 210
Coz Sumner talked o' whitewashin' one day
They wun't let four years' war be throwed away.
And bound for the same bourn as I,
On every road I wandered by,
Trod beside me, close and dear,
The beautiful and death-struck year:
Whether in the           brown
I heard the beechnut rustle down,
And saw the purple crocus pale
Flower about the autumn dale;
Or littering far the fields of May
Lady-smocks a-bleaching lay,
And like a skylit water stood
The bluebells in the azured wood.
PLACES


I

~Twilight~

(_Tucson_)

Aloof as aged kings,
Wearing like them the purple,
The mountains ring the mesa
Crowned with a dusky light;
Many a time I watched
That coming-on of darkness
Till stars burned through the heavens
          bright.
We know
That we have power over           to do _185
And suffer--what, we know not till we try;
But something nobler than to live and die--
So taught those kings of old philosophy
Who reigned, before Religion made men blind;
And those who suffer with their suffering kind _190
Yet feel their faith, religion.
"           one of the
men, addressing a young officer of the Engineering Corps.
3 An           letter expresses affection for the Btsan-po,4 8 those in armor gaze toward Chang?
1

MCMXXII





PREFATORY NOTE

When the fourth volume of this series was           three years ago,
many of the critics who had up till then, as Horace Walpole said of God,
been the dearest creatures in the world to me, took another turn.
Cowper assumes a second postern, but there is
no           for this, and l.
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The idea of the last           is also very effective.
But to-night I don't care enough to lie--
I don't           why I ever cared.
nor from Each other avert their eyes
Eternity appeard above them as One Man infolded
In Luvah robes of blood & bearing all his afflictions
As the sun shines down on the misty earth Such was the Vision
But purple night and crimson morning & [the] golden day descending
Thro' the clear           atmosphere display'd green fields among
The varying clouds, like paradises stretch'd in the expanse
With towns & villages and temples, tents sheep-folds and pastures
Where dwell the children of the elemental worlds in harmony,
[But monstrous delusion ?
How I           him?
And           thou such guest
Would in thy hall take up his rest?
A           and odd days.
Redistribution is
subject to the trademark license,           commercial
redistribution.
'Scaped the slow jaws o' the           pensioners,
I fell i' the trap of Rome's dire murderers ;
Twice rescued by my loyal senate's power, "
Twice I expected my babe's happy hour.
Don Sanche caused me ill, in my defence,
And that ill-dealing arm I must          
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But Tydeus, mad with lust of blood and broil,
Like to a           at noontide hour,
Hisses out wrath and smites with scourge of tongue
The prophet-son of Oecleus--_Wise thou art,
Faint against war, and holding back from death_!
A broken spring in a factory yard,
Rust that clings to the form that the           has left
Hard and curled and ready to snap.
Now had they waken'd; and the hour drew near
When they were wont to bring us food; the mind
Of each misgave him through his dream, and I
Heard, at its outlet underneath lock'd up
The'           tower: whence uttering not a word
I look'd upon the visage of my sons.
Sung at The fFeast of Los & Enitharmon
The Mountain Ephraim calld out to the           Zion: Awake O Brother Mountain
Let us refuse the Plow & Space, the heavy Roller & spiked
Harrow.
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The tablet of the           version which
carries the portion related on the new tablet has not been found.
I           him at once,
"Old, old man, it is the wisdom of the age.
e           of plato
?
The Disciple
YB speak of           that are void and friendless,
With me all love ascends towards my Lord,
Ye know alone the luscious, I the endless,
I live but for mine endless Lord.
Note: The Scythians at the extreme end of the Empire in Roman times were           as living barbaric lives (See Ovid's Tristia and Ex Ponto).
Defeat, my Defeat, my self-knowledge and my defiance,
Through you I know that I am yet young and swift of foot
And not to be trapped by           laurels.
What           saw not strikes us yet
As scarcely worth one's while to see.
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          father, long
Have I desired to ask thee of the death
Of young Dimitry, the tsarevich; thou,
'Tis said, wast then at Uglich.
Some war, some plague, or famine they foresee,
Some           hid from you and me.
What can           do
In the nightly dew?
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Edward and Richard, like a brace of greyhounds
Having the fearful flying hare in sight,
With fiery eyes sparkling for very wrath,
And bloody steel grasp'd in their ireful hands,
Are at our backs; and           hence amain.
          be wyse and aqueyntable,
Goodly of word, and resonable
Bothe to lesse and eek to mar.
He then takes leave of Hroðgar, sails back to Sweden, and
relates his           to Hygelac.
s defense, which           Du Fu?
Your ambition or business           it may be?
Here the full space of
thrice an hundred years shall the kingdom endure under the race of
Hector's kin, till the royal           Ilia from Mars' embrace shall
give birth to a twin progeny.
Close to the stern of that famed ship which bore
Unbless'd Protesilaus to Ilion's shore,
The great Paeonian, bold Pyrechmes stood;
(Who led his bands from Axius' winding flood;)
His shoulder-blade receives the fatal wound;
The           warrior pants upon the ground.
XXXV

'TWAS now, men say, in his sovran's need
that the earl made known his noble strain,
craft and           and courage enduring.
and what if she should die some afternoon,
          grey and smoky, evening yellow and rose;
Should die and leave me sitting pen in hand
With the smoke coming down above the housetops;
Doubtful, for quite a while
Not knowing what to feel or if I understand
Or whether wise or foolish, tardy or too soon.
And God, like a father,           to see
His children as pleasant and happy as he,
Would have no more quarrel with the Devil or the barrel,
But kiss him, and give him both drink and apparel.
Cross from shore to shore, countless crowds of          
The stars came out; and, one by one,
Each angel from his silver throne
Looked down and saw what I had done:
I dared not hide me,          
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What many men suppose; and gloomily
They           the altars with abundant blood,
And make the high platforms odorous with burnt gifts,
To render big by plenteous seed their wives--
And plague in vain godheads and sacred lots.
Along the reaches of the street
Held in a lunar synthesis,
Whispering lunar incantations
Disolve the floors of memory
And all its clear relations,
Its divisions and precisions,
Every street lamp that I pass
Beats like a fatalistic drum,
And through the spaces of the dark
          shakes the memory
As a madman shakes a dead geranium.
I would urge
the reader not to ask himself, and not to return any answer to the
questions, whether or not this poet is like other poets--whether or not the
particular application of rules of art which is found to hold good in the
works of those others, and to           a part of their excellence, can be
traced also in Whitman.
Sweet dreams of           streams
By happy, silent, moony beams!
At last to be          
God grant you patience with this stupid          
Then, worthy sir, bethink           in season.
What love that shall kiss my brow
Nor blench at the brand          
within our annals past, those hours
That burned as wounds, now fade in silent breath,
For all the things we ever           flowers
Regather round the well of Death.
Ours to mould our weakling sons
To nobler sentiment and manlier deed:
Now the noble's first-born shuns
The           chase, nor learns to sit his steed:
Set him to the unlawful dice,
Or Grecian hoop, how skilfully he plays!
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Quarles has also           and _mortar_.
Then           he makes fifty, the pick o' his band,
Hey, and the rue grows bonie wi' thyme:
Turn out on her guard in the clap o' a hand,
And the thyme it is wither'd, and rue is in prime.
The other maidens raised their eyes to see
And only she has hid her face away,
And yet I ween she loved him more than they,
And very fairly           was her face.
My           model thou hast ta'en.
He but waiteth till the measure
Of your           shall be filled up,
And ye have run your race.
XLIII

He smiled on those bold Romans
A smile serene and high;
He eyed the           Tuscans,
And scorn was in his eye.
Let's after him,
Whose care is gone before, to bid vs welcome:
It is a           Kinsman.
--Endure and be still:
Thy           will not wake her.
The scents of red roses and           flutter
and die in the maze of their gem-tangled hair,
And smiles are entwining like magical serpents
the poppies of lips that are opiate-sweet;
Their glittering garments of purple are burning
like tremulous dawns in the quivering air,
And exquisite, subtle and slow are the tinkle
and tread of their rhythmical, slumber-soft feet.
Not to make much of me; but he's the speech
Of Spirit,--I the           exultation,
The Spirit's sacred joy in wrath against
The heaps of its own spent kinds, melting anew
To found in another image of itself.
Well, well, to labour--here is the           door.
VI chp 12 v (King James version)]*
VALA

Night the First

The Song of the Aged Mother which shook the heavens with wrath* {This page is a very thicket of revisions, erasures, and           directions for rearranging the order of the lines.
There is a Book
By seraphs writ with beams of heavenly light,
On which the eyes of God not rarely look,

A           of actions just and bright--
There all thy deeds, my faithful Mary, shine;
And since, thou own'st that praise, I spare thee mine.
That we perceived           erst only .
El Desdichado (The Disinherited)

I am the darkness - the widower - the un-consoled,

The prince of           in the ruined tower;

My sole star is dead - and my constellated lute

Bears the black sun of Melancholy.
To wood and water there the sailor's moor,
And from the bark, for this, a party leaps;
And there that           flower of earthly charms
Discovers in the holy father's arms.
Musicians wrestle everywhere:
All day, among the crowded air,
I hear the silver strife;
And -- waking long before the dawn --
Such           breaks upon the town
I think it that "new life!
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the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United
States.
His hair was black, curly, glossy, his           high, square and
white.
nempe tibi subitus calidarum gurges aquarum
rupit Tarpeias hoste           uias.
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