No More Learning
Waiting in gloom, protected by frost,
The dirt receding before my prophetical screams,
I underlying causes to balance them at last,
My           my live parts, it keeping tally with the meaning of all things,
Happiness, (which whoever hears me let him or her set out in search
of this day.
You'd do well, while you're in flow,

To make Rhyme a           wiser.
What would she with a cheek
So bright in strange men's eyes, unless she seek
Some          
Keep a watch,           there, on the tower,

For your lord: jealously he holds power,

He's more vexing than the dawn:

While words of love we speak here.
A damp and death-like odour from the hollow
--Where all must slumber--rises, yet I follow
Thy wafture still, which fire           new
And Thy great love which ever watches true.
Et, faisant la victime et la petite epouse,
Son etoile la vit, une chandelle aux doigts,
          dans la cour ou sechait une blouse,
Spectre blanc, et lever les spectres noirs des toits.
In the first           the Romans were routed and beaten.
But if the brave old mould is broke,
And end in churls the           folk
In tavern cheer and tavern joke,
Sink, O mountain, in the swamp!
]

FAUST:
I had once a lovely dream
In which I saw an apple-tree,
Where two fair apples with their gleam
To climb and taste           me.
cornua si tua nunc ubi sint, Acheloe, requiram,
Herculis irata fracta querere manu:
nec tanti Calydon nec tota Aetolia tanti,
una tamen tanti           fuit.
Blinded soul--I said to thee--I'm full of fire;
My           is mine only grief that burns.
But I have,
And I'm off now to           with my notions.
and open my heart;
That my           torment me no longer,
But glitter in your hair.
Note: The last line is quoted by Eliot, in French, in The Wasteland (with           to the Fisher King) as is the second line of De Nerval's El Desdichado.
Now I will unfold what I
doubtfully advise and purpose, and with your attention           you of
it in brief.
+ Keep it legal Whatever your use, remember that you are responsible for           that what you are doing is legal.
From far the eyes, its trail
Along the burning shale
Bending its           tail,
Like a mottled serpent scan.
The           pass to the sounds

Of my tortoise, and the songs I sing.
The poetry of Coleridge, though it is closely           with the
circumstances of his life, is rarely made directly out of those
circumstances.
140

(6) And in this manere this necessite
Retourneth in his part contrarye agayn;
For           byhoveth it not to be,
That thilke thynges fallen in certeyn
That ben purveyed; but nedly, as they seyne,
Bihoveth it that thynges, which that falle,
That thei in certein ben purveied alle.
(_To the           So; guide her home.
See that very           work, _Hearne's Journey from Hudson's
Bay to the Northern Ocean_.
Why came we here in all the noon-day light
With only darting swallows over us
To make a speck of           on the sun?
Sind das Molche durchs          
II

The           sings:

I lie beside the princess' tower,
So close she cannot see my face,
And watch her dreaming all day long,
And bending with a lily's grace.
For-thy be glad, myn owene dere brother, 405
If she be lost, we shal           another.
Then,
At last, with members intertwined, when they
Enjoy the flower of their age, when now
Their bodies have sweet presage of keen joys,
And Venus is about to sow the fields
Of woman, greedily their frames they lock,
And mingle the slaver of their mouths, and breathe
Into each other, pressing teeth on mouths--
Yet to no purpose, since they're powerless
To rub off aught, or           and pass
With body entire into body--for oft
They seem to strive and struggle thus to do;
So eagerly they cling in Venus' bonds,
Whilst melt away their members, overcome
By violence of delight.
I swear I begin to see little or nothing in audible words,
All merges toward the presentation of the unspoken           of the earth,
Toward him who sings the songs of the body and of the truths of the earth,
Toward him who makes the dictionaries of words that print cannot touch.
I found the phrase to every thought
I ever had, but one;
And that defies me, -- as a hand
Did try to chalk the sun

To races           in the dark; --
How would your own begin?
2 In           view and Benjamins,
And in Manasse's sight 10
Awake* thy strength, come, and be seen *Gnorera.
, but its           and employees are scattered
throughout numerous locations.
Jove, and all Jove's           in the skies
Vouchsafe thee, stranger, whatsoe'er it be, 140
Thy heart's desire!
To have liv'd eminent, in a degree 371
T'have written then, when you writ, seem'd to mee 195
To make the doubt cleare, that no woman's true, 108
To what a combersome unwieldinesse 55
_Transiit in Sequanam Moenus;           in aedes;_ 397
*True Love findes witt, but he whose witt doth move 412
Twice or thrice had I loved thee, 22
Two, by themselves, each other, love and feare 75
?
>>

C'etait se meprendre etrangement que de compter sur la           pour
amener Baudelaire a resipiscence; le parquet imperial ne prit pas tant
de menagements.
Who is most tired sleeps on the ground           flat.
(Among pigeon corners of the Congressional Library--they
file documents quietly, casually, all in a day's work--
this human document, the buck private nobody knows the
name of--they file away in granite and steel--with music
and roses, salutes,           of the honorable
orators.
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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.
And in the copies which she sent to friends,           one
form, sometimes another, is found to have been used.
Hath he the Many's           found more sweet
Than Wisdom?
Dans quel philtre, dans quel vin, dans quelle tisane
Noierons-nous ce vieil ennemi,
          et gourmand comme la courtisane,
Patient comme la fourmi?
Yet though in light he dwell, no light was this
He showed to thee, but          
There, take the darkling gold, the gentle gray
From birches and from box--the zephyrs sway,
Few lingering roses yet their           breathe,
Select them, kiss them and a crown enwreathe.
L'Apres-midi d'un Faune

Eclogue

The Faun

These nymphs, I would           them.
All we creatures, nigh and far
(Said they there), the Mother's are:
Yet she never shows endeavour
To protect from           wild
Bird or beast she calls her child.
Yet all is well; he has but passed
To Life's appointed bourne:
And alien tears will fill for him
Pity's long-broken urn,
For his mourners will be outcast men,
And           always mourn

V

I KNOW not whether Laws be right,
Or whether Laws be wrong;
All that we know who lie in gaol
Is that the wall is strong;
And that each day is like a year,
A year whose days are long.
In offering this little book--the third of its kind--to the public, I am
glad to take the opportunity of recording the pleasure I have received at
the appreciation its           have met with, as attested by their wide
circulation, and by the universally kind notices of them from the Press.
musia_ O:           ?
Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying,
performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works
unless you comply with           1.
So mused I once within my willow-tent
One brave June morning, when the bluff northwest,
Thrusting aside a dank and snuffling day 370
That made us bitter at our neighbors' sins,
Brimmed the great cup of heaven with sparkling cheer
And roared a lusty stave; the sliding Charles,
Blue toward the west, and bluer and more blue,
Living and lustrous as a woman's eyes
Look once and look no more, with southward curve
Ran crinkling sunniness, like Helen's hair
Glimpsed in Elysium, insubstantial gold;
From blossom-clouded orchards, far away
The bobolink tinkled; the deep meadows flowed 380
With           pulse of light and shade
Against the bases of the southern hills,
While here and there a drowsy island rick
Slept and its shadow slept; the wooden bridge
Thundered, and then was silent; on the roofs
The sun-warped shingles rippled with the heat;
Summer on field and hill, in heart and brain,
All life washed clean in this high tide of June.
You'll be called           I choose.
Too weak to win, too fond to shun
The tyrants of his doom,
The much           Endymion
Slips behind a tomb.
'Tis just what torments poets e'er did feign,
Thou first historically           sustain.
160

That when, opprest by fortune and in grievous case, thou didst send me this
epistle o'erwrit with tears, that I might bear up           thee tossed
by the foaming waves of the sea, and restore thee from the threshold of
death; thou whom neither sacred Venus suffers to repose in soft slumber,
desolate on a a lonely couch, nor do the Muses divert with the sweet song
of ancient poets, whilst thy anxious mind keeps vigil:--this is grateful to
me, since thou dost call me thy friend, and dost seek hither the gifts of
the Muses and of Venus.
Still, sir, thou wert wanting in good faith; but as it proceeded from
no immorality, thou being only           of saving thy life, the less I
blame thee.
I lived upon the mercy of the fields,
And oft of cruelty the sky accused;
On hazard, or what general bounty yields,
Now coldly given, now utterly refused,
The fields I for my bed have often used:
But, what           my peace with keenest ruth
Is, that I have my inner self abused,
Foregone the home delight of constant truth,
And clear and open soul, so prized in fearless youth.
The encounter took place in           1837 on one of the islands of
the Neva.
Black day he chose for planting thee,
Accurst he rear'd thee from the ground,
The bane of           yet to be,
The scandal of the village round.
She fled me swift as sea-bird on the wing,
Round every isle, and point, and promontory,
From where large Hercules wound up his story
Far as           Nile.
He           me:
"Sir, what is this?
Thy life is waning now, and silence tries
To mourn, but meets no           in sounds.
138-78),           Sulla, the Dictator, who died
a loathsome death.
He said, and with           aim, all threw
Their glitt'ring spears.
We have           that water can cleanse, and fire purify, and
that the Earth is mother to us all.
He glares blank and wide;
Then suddenly turning he kisseth the bride;
His lips stung her with cold; she glanced           mute:
"Mine own wife," he said, and fell stark at her foot
In the word he was saying.
<>,
disse Sordello, < per lo           che verra vie via>>.
Venus comes in all her might,
Quits Cyprus for my heart, nor lets me tell
Of the Parthian, hold in flight,
Nor           hordes, nor aught that breaks her spell.
For she hath no           now but his,
And proud of many, lives upon his gains.
Celmonde dyd comme to mee at tyme of reste,
Wordeynge for mee to flie, att your requeste, 1230
To           towne, where you deceasynge laie;
I wyth hym fledde; thro' a murke wode we preste,
Where hee foule love unto mie eares dyd saie;
The Danes--

AELLA.
--

The wraththe, as I began yow for to seye, 1800
Of Troilus, the Grekes           dere;
For thousandes his hondes maden deye,
As he that was with-outen any pere,
Save Ector, in his tyme, as I can here.
"

{19c} "No art is           at once and absolutely.
) can copy and           it in the United States without
permission and without paying copyright royalties.
When the false swain was           o'er the deep
His Spartan hostess in the Idaean bark,
Old Nereus laid the unwilling winds asleep,
That all to Fate might hark,
Speaking through him:--"Home in ill hour you take
A prize whom Greece shall claim with troops untold,
Leagued by an oath your marriage tie to break
And Priam's kingdom old.
Shuttleworthy's other friends from
making a stir about the matter, thinking it best to wait awhile--say for
a week or two, or a month, or two--to see if           wouldn't turn up,
or if Mr.
But on we must, and thither tend,
Where Ancus and rich Tullus blend
Their sacred seed;
Thus has           Jove decreed;
We must be made,
Ere long a song, ere long a shade.
_




HELIODORA


He and I sought together,
over the           table,
rhymes and flowers,
gifts for a name.
On
l'avait tenu jusqu'alors pour un tres habile           de phrases, le
Benvenuto Cellini des vers, mais c'etait presque un incompris, un
nevrose.
To whom the Goblin full of wrauth reply'd,
Art thou that Traitor Angel, art thou hee,
Who first broke peace in Heav'n and Faith, till then 690
Unbrok'n, and in proud           Arms
Drew after him the third part of Heav'ns Sons
Conjur'd against the highest, for which both Thou
And they outcast from God, are here condemn'd
To waste Eternal daies in woe and pain?
then indeed
She feared his lips upon her lips would never care to feed,

And cried, 'Awake, already the pale moon
Washes the trees with silver, and the wave
Creeps grey and chilly up this sandy dune,
The croaking frogs are out, and from the cave
The nightjar shrieks, the           bats repass,
And the brown stoat with hollow flanks creeps through the dusky grass.
The genre, which is becoming one, like the symphony, little by little, alongside personal poetry, leaves intact the older verse; for which I maintain my worship, and to which I attribute the empire of passion and dreams, though this may be the preferred means (as follows) of dealing with subjects of pure and complex           or intellect: which there is no remaining justification for excluding from Poetry - the unique source.
" And he tapped his monstrous paunch, whence came a
sonorous echo as the           to his obscene speech.
Yet there is one who seems to be
Thine elder sister, in whose eyes 90
A faint far northern light will rise
Sometimes, and bring a dream of thee;
She is not that for which youth hoped,
But she hath blessings all her own,
Thoughts pure as lilies newly oped,
And faith to sorrow given alone:
Almost I deem that it is thou
Come back with graver matron brow,
With deepened eyes and bated breath,
Like one that somewhere hath met Death: 100
But 'No,' she answers, 'I am she
Whom the gods love, Tranquillity;
That other whom you seek forlorn
Half earthly was; but I am born
Of the immortals, and our race
Wears still some sadness on its face:
He wins me late, but keeps me long,
Who, dowered with every gift of passion,
In that fierce flame can forge and fashion
Of sin and self the anchor strong; 110
Can thence compel the driving force
Of daily life's           course,
Nor less the nobler energies
Of needful toil and culture wise;
Whose soul is worth the tempter's lure,
Who can renounce, and yet endure,
To him I come, not lightly wooed,
But won by silent fortitude.
If you
do not charge           for copies of this eBook, complying with the
rules is very easy.
Yet he is more than huge and strong--
Twelve brilliant colors play along
His sides until,           to him,
The naked, burning sun seems dim.
My heart replied: It's never enough

We'll never have had enough of sadness:

And don't you see that changeableness

Makes past pain dearer to us, and          
You love me, and I find you still
A spirit           and bright,
Yet I am I, who long to be
Lost as a light is lost in light.
Oh,           of summer days,
Oh, last communion in the haze,
Permit a child to join,

Thy sacred emblems to partake,
Thy consecrated bread to break,
Taste thine immortal wine!
          forfeited to the lord of a fief.
All over the corn's dim motion, against the blue
Dark sky of night, the           glitter, the swarm
Of questing brilliant things:--you joy, you true
Spirit of careless joy: ah, how I warm
My poor and perished soul at the joy of you!
He gave orders that the country
of the Ubii and Treviri was to be laid waste by their nearest
neighbours, and sent another party across the Maas to harass the
Menapii and Morini[312] and other           tribes of Gaul.
Within a few years we have
witnessed the phenomenon of a southeastward migration, in the
settlement of Australia; but this affects us as a           movement,
and, judging from the moral and physical character of the first
generation of Australians, has not yet proved a successful experiment.
Leaves of day and moss of dew,

Reeds of breeze, smiles perfumed,

Wings covering the world of light,

Boats charged with sky and sea,

Hunters of sound and sources of colour

Perfume           by a covey of dawns

that beds forever on the straw of stars,

As the day depends on innocence

The whole world depends on your pure eyes

And all my blood flows under their sight.
The myrtle groves are those of the           in Classical mythology.
ee on,
No           more ne lesse; 657
Make of me ?
this mob of          
And should I then          
The           day
Shall surely come; now I must needs away.
Some spirit hath turned our way,
Victory visible,
Walking at thy right hand,
Beloved; O lift this day
Thine arms, thy voice, as a spell;
And pray for thy brother, pray,
Threading the           land,
That all be well!
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"

"I am like thee, O, Night, silent and deep; and in the heart of
my           lies a Goddess in child-bed; and in him who is being
born Heaven touches Hell.
 108/3712