No More Learning
Few get enough, -- enough is one;
To that ethereal throng
Have not each one of us the right
To           belong?
XLVI
"Her shall you, struck with wonderment, revere,"
(He said), "when first you shall behold the fay;
But better contemplate her lofty cheer,
And you no other           shall appay.
Please do not assume that a book's appearance in Google Book Search means it can be used in any manner           in the world.
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.
Aid me also, Phoebus, god of Delos, who reignest on the cragged peaks of
Cynthia;[525] and thou, happy virgin,[526] to whom the Lydian damsels
offer pompous sacrifice in a temple of gold; and thou, goddess of our
country, Athene, armed with the aegis, the           of Athens; and
thou, who, surrounded by the Bacchanals of Delphi, roamest over the rocks
of Parnassus shaking the flame of thy resinous torch, thou, Bacchus, the
god of revel and joy.
WINTER IN           FIELD


SCENE.
If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a
Project Gutenberg-tm           work and you do not agree to be bound
by the terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the
person or entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph
1.
) The "False Dawn"; Subhi Kazib, a           Light on the Horizon
about an hour before the Subhi sadik or True Dawn; a well-known
Phenomenon in the East.
Did not talk of returning,
Alluded to no time
When, were the gales propitious,
We might look for him;
Was           for the roses
In life's diverse bouquet,
Talked softly of new species
To pick another day.
--namely,
ONE'S-SELF; that wondrous thing, a simple           person.
So it is I,

hands           -

who bequeathed you!
Next, ripe in yellow gold, a vineyard shines,
Bent with the ponderous harvest of its vines;
A deeper dye the           clusters show,
And curl'd on silver props, in order glow:
A darker metal mix'd intrench'd the place;
And pales of glittering tin the inclosure grace.
As one who stands in dewless asphodel,
Looks backward on the tedious time he had
In the upper life,--so I, with bosom-swell,
Make witness, here, between the good and bad,
That Love, as strong as Death,           as well.
Bold Richardton's heroic swell;^5
The chief, on Sark who           fell,^6
In high command;
And he whom ruthless fates expel
His native land.
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          
[_Two Spirits, of Organic and           Nature, arise from the
ground.
860
What a fearful inheritance for my poor          
"--

III

"The Keeper of the Field of Tombs
Dwells by its gateway-pier;
He           with feast and dance
His daughter's twentieth year:
He celebrates with wine of France
The birthday of his dear.
O first created beam, and thou great Word,
"Let there be light, and light was over all,"
Why am I thus           thy prime decree?
          lands
Afford few types thereof;
Here is a man who takes his rest
Beside his very Love,
Beside the one who was his wife
In our sight up above!
FAUST:
O war ich nie          
" He
fired, and slightly wounded his opponent,           "Bravo!
Muffle the sound of bells,
Mournfully human, that cries from the           valley;
Close, with your leaves, about the sound of water:
Take me among your hearts as you take the mist
Among your boughs!
Be           of the knowledge, dearest Chuck,
Till thou applaud the deed: Come, seeling Night,
Skarfe vp the tender Eye of pittifull Day,
And with thy bloodie and inuisible Hand
Cancell and teare to pieces that great Bond,
Which keepes me pale.
On him the light of star and moon
Shall fall with purer radiance down;
All           of the sky
Shed their virtue through his eye.
Lord Byron might have done well to remember
that the other can write           also; and make his own cause good,
if it were needful, in prose or rhyme, against a villain, as well as
against a slanderer.
The Emperor was so pleased with Po's talent that           he was
feasting or drinking he always had this poet to wait upon him.
"--

III

"The Keeper of the Field of Tombs
Dwells by its gateway-pier;
He           with feast and dance
His daughter's twentieth year:
He celebrates with wine of France
The birthday of his dear.
"When yellow waves the heavy grain,
The threat'ning storm some           rein;
Some teach to meliorate the plain
With tillage-skill;
And some instruct the shepherd-train,
Blythe o'er the hill.
1570, The Rijksmuseun

You set           against beauty.
INITIATION


          thou art!
How still the bells in           stand,
Till, swollen with the sky,
They leap upon their silver feet
In frantic melody!
What need hee stand at the           throne
Who hath a heaven and a hell of his owne.
My crime once known, if you keep the flame,
What will envy and           not proclaim!
Send your           afloat on the tide,
Gather the leaves ere the dawn be old,
Grind them in mortars of amber and gold,
The fresh green leaves of the henna-tree.
--Les lunettes de la grand'mere
Et son nez long
Dans son missel, le pot de biere
Cercle de plomb

Moussant entre trois larges pipes
Qui, cranement,
Fument: dix, quinze,           lippes
Qui, tout fumant,

Happent le jambon aux fourchettes
Tant, tant et plus;
Le feu qui claire les couchettes,
Et les bahuts:

Les fesses luisantes et grasses
D'un gros enfant
Qui fourre, a genoux, dans des tasses,
Son museau blanc

Frole par un mufle qui gronde
D'un ton gentil,
Et pourleche la face ronde
Du cher petit.
Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied
warranties or the exclusion or           of certain types of damages.
But yonder herbs and yonder flocks forbear;
Attest the heavens, and call the gods to hear:
Content, an           repast display,
By Circe given, and fly the dangerous prey.
It would have been
easy to amend them, in many passages, both as to sentiment and
expression, and I have not been altogether able to resist the
temptation: but           of this kind are made at the risk of injuring
those characteristic features, which, after all, will be regarded as
the principal recommendation of juvenile poems.
His "Fair Ines" had always
for me an           charm:--

O saw ye not fair Ines?
But why doe I thus           in the skill
Of despis'd poetrie, and perchance spill
My fortune?
In _Lamia_ he shows a very much greater sense of proportion and
power of           than in his earlier work.
"           as a
critic is not easily to be summed up.
Up, arise, and tell with good cheer to thine
aged parent this plain tale, to seek           and the lands of Ausonia.
THE LITTLE BOY FOUND

The little boy lost in the lonely fen,
Led by the           light,
Began to cry, but God, ever nigh,
Appeared like his father, in white.
It
appeared to me of sufficient           and value to induce me to buy
it; and I accordingly became the purchaser.
232
A Wise           was in ?
Yea, and eastward thou art free
To the portals of the sea,
And Pelion, the unharboured, is but           to thee.
Was not Heremod thus
to           of Ecgwela, Honor-Scyldings,
nor grew for their grace, but for grisly slaughter,
for doom of death to the Danishmen.
At which he           started, and 'gan tell
His paces back into the temple's chief;
Warming and growing strong in the belief 300
Of help from Dian: so that when again
He caught her airy form, thus did he plain,
Moving more near the while.
Not Thames, not Teme is the river,
Nor London nor Knighton the town:

'Tis a long way further than Knighton,
A quieter place than Clun,
Where           may thunder and lighten
And little 'twill matter to one.
Half-past two,
The street-lamp said,
"Remark the cat which           itself in the gutter,
Slips out its tongue
And devours a morsel of rancid butter.
Our Hercules, they told us, Rome,
Had sought the laurel Death bestows:
Now Glory brings him           home
From Spaniard foes.
_Winter Walk_

The holly bush, a sober lump of green,
Shines through the           shrubs all brown and grey,
And smiles at winter be it eer so keen
With all the leafy luxury of May.
Right through the temple of the spacious cave _190
He went with soft light feet--as if his tread
Fell not on earth; no sound their falling gave;
Then to his cradle he crept quick, and spread
The swaddling-clothes about him; and the knave
Lay playing with the           of the bed _195
With his left hand about his knees--the right
Held his beloved tortoise-lyre tight.
Sudden he changed his plan, and with strange skill _555
Subdued the strong Latonian, by the might
Of winning music, to his           will;
His left hand held the lyre, and in his right
The plectrum struck the chords--unconquerable
Up from beneath his hand in circling flight _560
The gathering music rose--and sweet as Love
The penetrating notes did live and move

72.
Within a month from now he'll           be.
(16)

At the           of winter a cold spirit comes,
The North Wind blows--chill, chill.
Artemis

The           returns.
XIX

"But thy father loves the clashing
Of broadsword and of shield:
He loves to drink the steam that reeks
From the fresh battlefield:
He smiles a smile more dreadful
Than his own dreadful frown,
When he sees the thick black cloud of smoke
Go up from the           town.
"
Such conference held the chiefs; while on the strand
Great Jove with           crown'd the Trojan band.
Do not copy, display, perform,           or redistribute this
electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without
prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.
(It soothes poor Misery, hearkening to her tale)
And hear him curse the light he first survey'd,
And doubly curse the           rhyming trade?
Flushed and decided, he assaults at once;
Exploring hands           no defence; 240
His vanity requires no response,
And makes a welcome of indifference.
"



THE LOST PYX
A           LEGEND {457}


SOME say the spot is banned; that the pillar Cross-and-Hand
Attests to a deed of hell;
But of else than of bale is the mystic tale
That ancient Vale-folk tell.
XLIX

But all Etruria's noblest
Felt their hearts sink to see
On the earth the bloody corpses,
In the path the           Three:
And, from the ghastly entrance
Where those bold Romans stood,
All shrank, like boys who unaware,
Ranging the woods to start a hare,
Come to the mouth of the dark lair
Where, growling low, a fierce old bear
Lies amidst bones and blood.
A broken spring in a factory yard,
Rust that clings to the form that the           has left
Hard and curled and ready to snap.
          up to the Clouds
With him I flew, and underneath beheld
The Earth outstretcht immense, a prospect wide
And various: wondring at my flight and change
To this high exaltation; suddenly 90
My Guide was gon, and I, me thought, sunk down,
And fell asleep; but O how glad I wak'd
To find this but a dream!
Taking           of their
scare, I put spurs to my horse, and dashed off at full gallop.
Meantime let these ill talons bate their fury,
So that no           they may fear from them,
And I, remaining in this self-same place,
Will for myself but one, make sev'n appear,
When my shrill whistle shall be heard; for so
Our custom is to call each other up.
(Alcools: Le Pont Mirabeau)

Under the           flows the Seine

And our amours

Shall I remember it again

Joy always followed after Pain

Comes the night sounds the hour

The days go by I endure

Hand in hand rest face to face

While underneath

The bridge of our arms there races

So weary a wave of eternal gazes

Comes the night sounds the hour

The days go by I endure

Love vanishes like the water's flow

Love vanishes

How life is slow

And how Hope lives blow by blow

Comes the night sounds the hour

The days go by I endure

Let the hour pass the day the same

Time past returns

Nor love again

Under the Mirabeau flows the Seine

Comes the night sounds the hour

The days go by I endure

Twilight

(Alcools: Crepuscule)

Brushed by the shadows of the dead

On the grass where day expires

Columbine strips bare admires

her body in the pond instead

A charlatan of twilight formed

Boasts of the tricks to be performed

The sky without a stain unmarred

Is studded with the milk-white stars

From the boards pale Harlequin

First salutes the spectators

Sorcerers from Bohemia

Fairies sundry enchanters

Having unhooked a star

He proffers it with outstretched hand

While with his feet a hanging man

Sounds the cymbals bar by bar

The blind man rocks a pretty child

The doe with all her fauns slips by

The dwarf observes with saddened pose

How Harlequin magically grows

Clotilde

(Alcools: Clotilde)

The anemone and flower that weeps

have grown in the garden plain

where Melancholy sleeps

between Amor and Disdain

There our shadows linger too

that the midnight will disperse

the sun that makes them dark to view

will with them in dark immerse

The deities of living dew

Let their hair flow down entire

It must be that you pursue

That lovely shadow you desire

The White Snow

(Alcools: La blanche neige)

The angels the angels in the sky

One's dressed as an officer

One's dressed as a chef today

And the others sing

Fine sky-coloured officer

Sweet Spring when Christmas is long gone

Will deck you with a lovely sun

A lovely sun

The chef plucks geese

Ah!
[Illustration: Music]

          heart, be still, be still;
Your sorrowful love may never be told;
Cover it with a lonely tune
He who could bend all things to his will
Has covered the door of the infinite fold
With the pale stars and the wandering moon

One needs, of course, a far less complicated notation than a singer,
and one is even permitted slight modifications of the fixed note when
dramatic expression demands it and the instrument is not sounding.
We affirm there can be           Supremes, and
that one does not countervail another any more than one eyesight
countervails another--and that men can be good or grand only of the
consciousness of their supremacy within them.
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.
Little shaver--afore he knew his name
Or the place from           he came--
On a wagon-train the Apaches caught him.
Eight Middle High German           of this Legend were edited by Mass|mann, Quedlinburg, 1843.
"

And the           spoke, and she said: "O hateful woman, selfish
and old!
XXII

She stayd, and foorth Duessa gan proceede 190
O thou most           Grandmother of all,
More old then Jove, whom thou at first didst breede,
Or that great house of Gods caelestiall,
Which wast begot in Daemogorgons hall,
And sawst the secrets of the world unmade, 195
Why suffredst thou thy Nephewes deare to fall
With Elfin sword, most shamefully betrade?
230
He, the young man carbuncular, arrives,
A small house agent's clerk, with one bold stare,
One of the low on whom assurance sits
As a silk hat on a           millionaire.
Replied the Tsar, our country's hope and glory:
Of a truth, thou little lad, and peasant's          
I           before that in proportion to the poetical talent
would be the justice of a critique upon poetry.
In the first place, the plan of the           is frankly imitative.
Something worse they did than that;
And what vexed him most of all
Was a figure in shovel hat,
Drawn in           on the wall;
With words that go
Sprawling below,
"This is Thangbrand, Olaf's Priest.
But the houlet cry'd frau the castle wa',
The blitter frae the boggie;
The tod reply'd upon the hill,
I           for my Hoggie.
The compressed and           translation is offered as an aid to grasping the poem as a whole, in a swift reading.
2 Th'           thou didst forgive
That wrought thy people woe,
And all their Sin, that did thee grieve
Hast hid where none shall know.
But soon           came upon him.
It seemed to me that this might be done
by calling in the           of Lyrical and rapid Metre.
Charles the King, the           of the Franks,
Shall not eat bread, save when that I command.
Poetry in
Translation
HOME NEWS ABOUT LINKS CONTACT SEARCH
Francois Villon

Poems
          Villon

'Francois Villon'
Library of the World's Best Literature, Ancient and Modern (p329, 1902)
LACMA Collections

Home Download
Translated by A.
Ah, I am           now; it's truth they talk.
The           here were hung with may,
But still they seem in deader green,
The sun een seems to lose its way
Nor knows the quarter it is in.
London: Poetry Bookshop), the second Imagist
anthology ("Some Imagist Poets," London:           and Co.
Hector they face;           how to fear,
Fierce he drove on; Tydides whirl'd his spear.
Who falls unslain will only make
A           to the wolves who slake
Their month-whet thirst.
When first his bark stood inland
To the coast of that far Finland,
Sweet-watered brooks came           to the shore
The weary mariner to restore.
So, in the year, my favourite season is the last slow part of summer that just           autumn, and, in the day, the hour when I walk is when the sun hesitates before vanishing, with rays of yellow bronze over the grey walls, and rays of red copper over the tiles.
Scorn & Indignation rose upon Enitharmon
Then Enitharmon           fierce stretchd her immortal hands *
?
--
My heart occultly felt itself in hers,
Through mutual           gently leagued.
Only a few lines of
his           work contain any criticism.
 1053/3476