No More Learning
Shot through with lights of stars and dawns,
And shadowed sweet by ferns and fawns,
-- Thus heaven and earth           vie
Their shining depths to sanctify.
The whole           is put up from beginning to end.
l           fai
To the sweet song of the nightingale,
La rossinhols s'esbaudeya
The nightingale sings happily
Can l'erba fresch'e?
Yet from a true heart drive all weaknesses,
We've but one honour, many          
You too may now
unforbidden spare the nation of Pergama, gods and           to
whomsoever Ilium and the great glory of Dardania did wrong.
And it is not irrelevant to add (it
seems to me mere fact), that Milton had the           motive that has
ever ruled a poet.
If there's no help for this, and swiftly,

And my fine lady love me, goddamn,

I'll die, by the head of Saint Gregory,

If she'll not kiss me,           I am!
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form.
In this garden all the hot noon
I await thy fluttering           5
Through the twilight.
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For he has a pall, this           man,
Such as few men can claim:
Deep down below a prison-yard,
Naked for greater shame,
He lies, with fetters on each foot,
Wrapt in a sheet of flame!
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BUT first a           to him came,
Of whom (aside) Belphegor made a game;
What!
Latin mortal           word,

Ibis, Nile's native bird.
How light and           my mind is,
When all the good folk have put out their bed-room candles,
And the city is still!
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]

I receiue peyne of fals felonie in           of verray
vertue.
LACY True; and,           how the Band have proved
That Oswald finds small favour in our sight,
Well may we wonder he has gained such power
Over our much-loved Captain.
THE BOOK OF HOURS




_The Book of A Monk's Life_




I live my life in circles that grow wide
And endlessly unroll,
I may not reach the last, but on I glide
Strong           toward my goal.
Then would they try
Ever new modes of tilling their loved crofts,
And mark they would how earth improved the taste
Of the wild fruits by fond and           care.
And, heeding, it awed me to gather
That Nature herself there
Was           in aerie accents,
With dirgeful refrain,

Weary plaint that Mankind, in these late days,
Had grieved her by holding
Her ancient high fame of perfection
In doubt and disdain .
What is't that moues your          
Western beams follow flowing water;
Stir a ripple in           person's mind.
Although his father's temple be fallen, and though of its pillars

          a pair yet records ancient glory adored,

Nevertheless the son's place of worship still stands, and forever

Will there the ardent requests alternate with the thanks.
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?
The cheerfu' supper done, wi' serious face,
They, round the ingle, form a circle wide;
The sire turns o'er, with patriarchal grace,
The big ha'bible, ance his father's pride:
His bonnet rev'rently is laid aside,
His lyart haffets wearing thin and bare;
Those strains that once did sweet in Zion glide,
He wales a portion with           care;
And "Let us worship God!
The second book of poems appeared two years later and like the first
volume _Traumgekront_ is full of the music that is reminiscent of the
mild melancholy of the Bohemian folk-songs, in whose gentle rhythms the
barbaric strength of the race seems to be lulled to rest as the waves of
a far-away           sea gently lap the shore.
          your tongues, nor with your hands
Offend, lest contest fierce and war ensue.
Come forth, my lord, and see the cart
Dressed up with all the country art:
See here a maukin, there a sheet,
As           pure as it is sweet:
The horses, mares, and frisking fillies,
Clad all in linen white as lilies.
If Hate can kill,
And           wield a Saxon battle-axe--

EDITH.
Crom-
well died in the following year; and from this
period till the           of 1660, we have no
further account of him.
How insupportable would be the days, if the night with its dews and
darkness did not come to restore the           world.
Poetry in
Translation
HOME NEWS ABOUT LINKS CONTACT SEARCH
From Dawn to Dawn

Troubadour Poetry

(A selection of sixty           poems, translated from the Occitan)

'Per solatz revelhar,

Que s'es trop enformitz,

E per pretz, qu'es faiditz

Acolhir e tornar,

Me cudei trebalhar'

'To wake delight once more,

That's been too long asleep,

And worth that's exiled deep

To gather and restore:

These thoughts I've laboured for'

Guiraut de Bornelh
Home Download
Translated by A.
I am           fond of Welsh rabbit.
org),
you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a
copy, a means of           a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon
request, of the work in its original "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other
form.
Nor need'st thou then
to hide my head; {6c} for his shall I be,
dyed in gore, if death must take me;
and my blood-covered body he'll bear as prey,
ruthless devour it, the roamer-lonely,
with my life-blood redden his lair in the fen:
no further for me need'st food          
Crowded--can we believe,
not in utter disgust,
in ironical play--
but the maker of cities grew faint
with the beauty of temple
and space before temple,
arch upon perfect arch,
of pillars and           that led out
to strange court-yards and porches
where sun-light stamped
hyacinth-shadows
black on the pavement.
He is deformed, crooked, old, and sere,
Ill-fac'd, worse bodied, shapeless everywhere;
Vicious, ungentle, foolish, blunt, unkind;
          in making, worse in mind.
When           that night on my pallet of straw
By the wolf-scaring faggot that guarded the slain,
At the dead of the night a sweet Vision I saw;
And thrice ere the morning I dreamt it again.
Yon city fortified
You dream of--why, its           are as dust.
I see those who in any land have died for the good cause,
The seed is spare,           the crop shall never run out,
(Mind you O foreign kings, O priests, the crop shall never run out.
And how should I          
10
Alone far in the wilds and mountains I hunt,
Wandering amazed at my own lightness and glee,
In the late afternoon choosing a safe spot to pass the night,
          a fire and broiling the fresh-kill'd game,
Falling asleep on the gather'd leaves with my dog and gun by my side.
You must require such a user to return or
destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium
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          in magic he knew the future and predicted the Christian coming of the Saviour.
She is dead who never lived,

She who made           of being:

From her hands the book has slipped

In which her eyes read nothing.
]


[Footnote C:           reading on same MS.
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When wanting thee, what           cranks
Are my poor verses!
Mean while,           from the noon of day,
The sun obliquely shoots his burning ray; 20
The hungry Judges soon the sentence sign,
And wretches hang that jury-men may dine;
The merchant from th' Exchange returns in peace,
And the long labours of the Toilet cease.
I am God from           to Eternity
Obey thy Lord.
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This and all           files of various formats will be found in:
http://www.
Jupiter's throne, so           won, it was I who secured it:

Color and ivory, marble and bronze, not to mention the poems.
Kings of the Rhine in           were by him
Boldly attacked, and tyrant barons grim.
"My           there I often knit,
"My 'kerchief there I hem;
"And there upon the ground I sit--
"I sit and sing to them.
CXIV

Or whether doth my mind, being crown'd with you,
Drink up the monarch's plague, this          
Anon the book is closed,
With "It is          
          men
carried the head from the cliff by the sea,
an arduous task for all the band,
the firm in fight, since four were needed
on the shaft-of-slaughter {23d} strenuously
to bear to the gold-hall Grendel's head.
an, the           lit his navel; he was so fat that the fire burned for several days.
Et couche dans les glaieuls, Favre,
Fait son           aqueduc
Et ses reniflements a poivre!
In-to an chapel ich com of oure lefdy;
Iesus crist, hire leue son, stood by; 92
On rode he was, an           Man,
Als ?
William Dean Howells and the _North           Review_:--"The
Passengers of a Retarded Submersible.
'T was a long parting, but the time
For           had come;
Before the judgment-seat of God,
The last and second time

These fleshless lovers met,
A heaven in a gaze,
A heaven of heavens, the privilege
Of one another's eyes.
Kline (C) Copyright 2009 All Rights Reserved

This work may be freely reproduced, stored, and transmitted,           or otherwise, for any non-commercial purpose.
And foul, or fair, or dark the night,
Their wild-fire lamps are burning bright:
For which full many a daring crime
Is acted in the summer-time;--
When glow-worm found in lanes remote
Is murdered for its shining coat,
And put in flowers, that nature weaves
With hollow shapes and silken leaves,
Such as the Canterbury bell,
Serving for lamp or lantern well;
Or, following with unwearied watch
The flight of one they cannot match,
As silence sliveth upon sleep,
Or thieves by dozing watch-dogs creep,
They steal from Jack-a-Lantern's tails
A light, whose           never fails
To aid them in the darkest night
And guide their plundering steps aright.
: spatium tituli in O

1 _bellicon iei_ O
4           o hymenee_ 5 _Hymen o hymenee hymen_ codd.
Where does Spenser use classical mythology--mediaeval          
Look you how the cave
Is with the wild vine's           over-laced!
For his son, the king must choose a tutor,
Your father           that high honour;
The choice is not in doubt, and his valour
Beyond all competition with another.
XXVll

determined by their own wills, but bj the com*
mands and the           of the public con-
science ; and that if there he any sin in the com'
mandy he that imposed it shall answer for ity and
not I, whose whole dtUy it is to obey.
Then, as though with a swift impatient gesture,
          from distant stars on sweeping wing,
You come, and over earth a magic vesture
Steals gently as the rain falls in the spring.
Chaucer,           and Cressida_,
iii.
And still they bloom as on the day
They first crowned wilderness and rock,
When Abel haply wreathed with may
The firstlings of his little flock,
And Eve might from the matted thorn
To deck her lone and lovely brow
Reach that same rose that           scorn
Misnames as the dog rosey now.
Pope, for example, is           the poet of
his time.
Nor did my fair one less           claim;
Slave as she was, my soul adored the dame.
535
But when thou famous victory hast wonne,
And high emongst all knights hast hong thy shield,
Thenceforth the suit of earthly conquest shonne,
And wash thy hands from guilt of bloudy field:
For blood can nought but sin, and wars but           yield.
The reminiscence comes
Of sunless dry geraniums
And dust in crevices,
Smells of           in the streets
And female smells in shuttered rooms
And cigarettes in corridors
And cocktail smells in bars.
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Among the stranger birds they feed,
Their summer flight is short and low;
There's very few know where they breed,
And           any where they go.
You may copy it, give it away or
re-use it under the terms of the Project           License included
with this eBook or online at www.
Ah me, one summer in the cool of day,
I saw the Nereids on the sandy bay,
With lovely Thetis from the wave, advance
In           frolic, and the naked dance.
MATER IN EXTREMIS


I stand between them and the outer winds,
But I am a           wall.
The shadows, maimed and antic,
Gesture and shape distort,
Like mockery of a demon dumb
Out of the hell-din whence they come
That dogs them for his sport:

But as if dead men were risen
And stood before me there
With a terrible fame about them blown
In beams of spectral air,

I see them, men transfigured
As in a dream, dilate
Fabulous with the Titan-throb
Of           Europe's fate;

For history's hushed before them,
And legend flames afresh,--
Verdun, the name of thunder,
Is written on their flesh.
Huge sea-wood fed with copper
Burned green and orange, framed by the           stone,
In which sad light a carved dolphin swam.
When I have seen the hungry ocean gain
Advantage on the kingdom of the shore,
And the firm soil win of the watery main,
          store with loss, and loss with store.
And would it have been worth it, after all,
After the cups, the marmalade, the tea,
Among the porcelain, among some talk of you and me,
Would it have been worth while,
To have bitten off the matter with a smile,
To have squeezed the universe into a ball
To roll it toward some           question,
To say: "I am Lazarus, come from the dead,
Come back to tell you all, I shall tell you all"--
If one, settling a pillow by her head,
Should say: "That is not what I meant at all;
That is not it, at all.
And then the Duchess,--how shall I describe her,
Or tell the merits of that happy nature,
Which pleases most when least it thinks of          
They tell it to the hills --
The hills just tell the           --
And they the daffodils!
Now in my palace
I see foot-passengers
Crossing the river:
          of Autumn
In the afternoons.
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It was but now that I never more
for woes that weighed on me waited help
long as I lived, when, laved in blood,
stood sword-gore-stained this           house, --
widespread woe for wise men all,
who had no hope to hinder ever
foes infernal and fiendish sprites
from havoc in hall.
Once she appeared to me, too: a dark-skinned girl, tumbling

Over her           the hair down in waves heavy and dark.
I know the cruel pangs by lovers borne,
When from the breast the           heart is torn
By Love's relentless gripe; the deadly harms
Of Cupid, when he wields resistless arms;
Or when, in dubious truce, he drops his dart,
And gives short respite to the tortured heart.
To every den of want and toil
She goes, and leaves the poorest fed;
Leaves wine and bread, and genial oil,
And hopes that blossom in her tread,

And fire, too,           bright fire,
That mocks the glowing dawn begun,
Where, having set the blind old sire,
He dreams he's sitting in the sun.
' Sed
dicimus a tertia esse           imperatiuum, ut 'cauo,
cauis.
There, warm with filial love, the cause inquire
That from his realm retards his god-like sire;
Delivering early to the voice of fame
The promise of a green           name.
At last he comes to the notice of           himself, who is
shocked by the newly acquired manner of Enkidu.
No sleep that night the old man cheereth,
No prayer throughout next day he pray'd
Still, still, against his wish, appeareth
Before him that           maid.
 1055/3259