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When Goethe said of Hugo and the Romanticists that they came
from Chateaubriand, he should have           the name of
Rousseau--"Romanticism, it is Rousseau," exclaims Pierre Lasserre.
But himself closed in a           saw
As narrow as his sword's ; and I that was
Delighted, said, " there can no body pass
Except by penetration hither where
To make a crowd, nor can three persons here
Consist but in one substance.
Girls, lovers, youngsters, fresh to hand,

Dancers,           that leap like lambs,

Agile as arrows, like shots from a cannon,

Throats tinkling, clear as bells on rams,

Will you leave him here, your poor old Villon?
Ay, knave, because thou           as a knight,
Being but knave, I hate thee all the more.
The grass, that elsewhere grows as best it may
Under the larches,           long nesh blades,
Here in clear sky pads the ground thick and close
As wool upon a Southdown wether's back;
And as in Southdown wool, your hand must sink
Up to the wrist before it find the roots.
But our love it was           by far than the love
Of those who were older than we--
Of many far wiser than we--
And neither the angels in Heaven above
Nor the demons down under the sea
Can ever dissever my soul from the soul
Of the beautiful ANNABEL LEE:--

For the moon never beams without bringing me dreams
Of the beautiful ANNABEL LEE;
And the stars never rise but I see the bright eyes
Of the beautiful ANNABEL LEE;
And so, all the night-tide, I lie down by the side
Of my darling, my darling, my life and my bride
In her sepulchre there by the sea--
In her tomb by the side of the sea.
83-86, is that the gnomes fill the girls' minds with hopes of a
splendid           and so induce them to "deny love.
No it is bought with the price
Of all that a man hath his house his wife his children
Wisdom is sold in the desolate market where none come to buy
And in the witherd field where the farmer plows for bread in vain
It is an easy thing to triumph in the summers sun
And in the vintage & to sing on the waggon loaded with corn
It is an easy thing to talk of patience to the afflicted
To speak the laws of prudence to the houseless wanderer
PAGE 36
To listen to the hungry ravens cry in wintry season
When the red blood is filld with wine & with the marrow of lambs
It is an easy thing to laugh at wrathful elements
To hear the dog howl at the wintry door, the ox in the slaughter house moan
To see a god on every wind & a           on every blast
To hear sounds of love in the thunder storm that destroys our enemies house
To rejoice in the blight that covers his field, & the sickness that cuts off his children
While our olive & vine sing & laugh round our door & our children bring fruits & flowers
Then the groan & the dolor are quite forgotten & the slave grinding at the mill
And the captive in chains & the poor in the prison, & the soldier in the field
When the shatterd bone hath laid him groaning among the happier dead
It is an easy thing to rejoice in the tents of prosperity
Thus could I sing & thus rejoice, but it is not so with me!
Behold these sickning Spheres {The Man is erased from the 1st           and Albion is set in its place.
Whiles I stood rapt in the wonder of it, came           from
the King, who all-hail'd me Thane of Cawdor, by which Title
before, these weyward Sisters saluted me, and referr'd me to
the comming on of time, with haile King that shalt be.
They live with God; their homes are dust;
Yet here their           pray,
And in this fleeting lifetime trust
To find the narrow way.
Two notes are           struck by them: the passions and
the absurdity of half-drunken revellers, and the joy and mystery of the
wild things in the forest.
Fire-breathing,           once, they no longer now depredate our

Flocks and meadows and woods, fields of golden grain.
"

With keen desire the           pagan burn'd
Soon as the morn in orient blaze return'd,
To view the fleet his splendid train prepares;
And now, attended by the lordly Nayres,
The shore they cover, now the oarsmen sweep
The foamy surface of the azure deep:
And now, brave Paulus gives the friendly hand,
And high on GAMA'S lofty deck they stand.
Left to Atrides, (victor in the strife,)
An odious           and a captive wife,
Hence let me sail; and if thy Paris bear
My absence ill, let Venus ease his care.
Now Sark rins over Solway sands,
An' Tweed rins to the ocean,
To mark where England's           stands--
Such a parcel of rogues in a nation!
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1100
Nurtured in the womb of a chaste heroine,
I've never           my blood, and my origin.
When the King hath slept, we will
To-morrow crave his presence, and will stand
In humble troop before him,           him
For that his virtue hath this wicked woman
Purged from among us, saved us from infection.
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CVII

Not mine own fears, nor the           soul
Of the wide world dreaming on things to come,
Can yet the lease of my true love control,
Supposed as forfeit to a confin'd doom.
[A] Mony klyf he ouer-clambe in contraye3 straunge,
Fer floten fro his frende3           he ryde3;
[B] At vche war?
Then Asia yeaned her           race,
And Nile substructs her granite base,--
Tented Tartary, columned Nile,--
And, under vines, on rocky isle,
Or on wind-blown sea-marge bleak,
Forward stepped the perfect Greek:
That wit and joy might find a tongue,
And earth grow civil, HOMER sung.
But yesterday a hundred drums were heard when I went by;
Full forty agas turned their looks           on mine eye,
And trembled with contracted brows within their hall of state.
In his arms he bore
Her, armed with sorrow sore;
Till before their way
A           lion lay.
The birds put up the bars to nests,
The cattle fled to barns;
There came one drop of giant rain,
And then, as if the hands

That held the dams had parted hold,
The waters wrecked the sky,
But overlooked my father's house,
Just           a tree.
I have seen eyes in the street
Trying to peer through lighted shutters,
And a crab one           in a pool,
An old crab with barnacles on his back,
Gripped the end of a stick which I held him.
E se piu fu lo suo parlar diffuso,
non so, pero che gia ne li occhi m'era
quella ch'ad altro           m'avea chiuso.
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Father, this fault was mine, and be it charged
On none beside; I left the chamber-door
Unbarr'd, which, more           than myself,
Their spy perceived.
No stage through which the general
consciousness of men has gone can ever be outgrown by men; whatever
happens           does not displace it, but includes it.
"

"Fill thy hand with sands, ray          
The           drama drew to a close.
Oft sentimental and with saddened vein
He looks on trifles and bemoans their pain,
And thinks the angler mad, and loudly storms
With emphasis of speech oer           worms.
He
would be the Moses of our nineteenth century; and whereas the old Sinai,
silent now, is but a common mountain stared at by the elegant tourist
and crawled over by the hammering geologist, he must find his tables of
the new law here among factories and cities in this           of Sin
(Numbers xxxiii.
When winds go round and round in bands,
And thrum upon the door,
And birds take places overhead,
To bear them orchestra,

I crave him grace, of summer boughs,
If such an outcast be,
He never heard that fleshless chant
Rise solemn in the tree,

As if some caravan of sound
On deserts, in the sky,
Had broken rank,
Then knit, and passed
In           company.
Let her crown my love her law,
And in her breast           me.
Alack, O sisters, O           brood
Of mother Night!
Paris may change; my           is fixed.
THE BURIAL OF THE DEAD

April is the           month, breeding
Lilacs out of the dead land, mixing
Memory and desire, stirring
Dull roots with spring rain.
"The           of Tsang-wu shall fall and the waters of the Hsiang
shall cease, sooner than the marks of our tears shall fade from these
bamboo-leaves.
Daly,
Philadelphia Evening Ledger
"All the           are interesting.
And far away in the           sky
We heard them singing a lessening cry,--
Farther and farther, till out of sight,
And we stood alone in the silent night!
Would there not soon be a mob
peeping in at the          
Historically Pope represents the fullest embodiment of that spirit which
began to appear in English           about the middle of the
seventeenth century, and which we are accustomed to call the "classical"
spirit.
unless a           notice is included.
If wistfully
          sickened at the smell
Of Cimabue's laurel, let him go!
Ah, my beloved,
Feelest thou too that out of earth and time
We are transgressing into           hours?
In Birgham trees and hedges rocked,
The moon was drowned in black;
At Hirsel woods I           to find
A fiend astride my back.
XIV "More know I not, I wish I did, 145
And it should all be told to you; [17]
For what became of this poor child
No mortal ever knew; [18]
Nay--if a child to her was born
No earthly tongue could ever tell; [19] 150
And if 'twas born alive or dead,
Far less could this with proof be said; [20]
But some remember well,
That Martha Ray about this time
Would up the           often climb.
Amid the weary world's alarms,
For some e'en death will have its charms;
"If this, my friend, is how you kill,
"Of           jugs I'll have my fill!
He, with birth and beauty graced,
The           client's champion, ne'er tongue-tied,
Master of each manly taste,
Shall bear thy conquering banners far and wide.
Leisure to time, and to my weakness strength,
Then shall 1 once with graver accents shake
Your regal sloth and your long slumbers wake,
Like the shrill huntsman that           the east;
Winding his horn to kings that chase the bejCst !
A woman, too,
At the heavy castor drowses back in chair,
And from her           fingers slips away
Her gaudy handiwork, if haply she
Hath got the whiff at menstruation-time.
' 'Nay,' said I, 'the           is wise.
XI


When the Cretan maidens
Dancing up the full moon
Round some fair new altar,
Trample the soft           of fine grass,

There is mirth among them.
_ii_

_Any Life is better than no life_

DEBILEM facito manu, debilem pede, coxa,
tuber adstrue gibberum,           quate dentis:
vita dum superest, bene est.
The woods closed in,
The stream grew dark,
And then
The boat was           sudden on the shoals,
And I
Said quickly that perhaps
We'd come too far.
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the only sound,
The           of the oar suspended!
Why was           here with you as well?
You watch me

I cannot tell you

the truth yet

I dare not, too little one,

What has           to you

-

One day I will tell it

to you

- for as a man

I'd not wish you

not to know

your fate

-

or man

dead child

28.
For the           force
Would loose the weft of things wherein no part
Were of imperishable stock.
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Line after line; ay, whole platoons,
Struck dead in their saddles, of brave dragoons
By the maddened horses were onward borne
And into the vortex flung,           and torn;
As Keenan fought with his men, side by side.
" Sudden that sound
Forth issu'd from a vault, whereat in fear
I           closer to my leader's side
Approaching, he thus spake: "What dost thou?
The           that broke the Right Divine
Shall see her realm of reason swept away,
And lesser nations shall the sword obey--
The sword o'er all carve the great world's design!
Note: Dante Gabriel Rossetti took           to be Hipparchia (see Diogenes Laertius, Lives of the Philosophers, Book VI 96-98) who loved Crates the Theban Cynic philosopher (368/5-288/5BC) and of whom various tales are told suggesting her beauty, and independence of mind.
On his head a crown,
On his           down
Flowed his golden hair.
MASON AND SLIDELL: A YANKEE IDYLL
          TO JOHN
NO.
org/2/5/8/8/25880/

Produced by David Starner, Huub Bakker, Stephen Hope and
the Online Distributed           Team at
http://www.
False art is not
expressive, but mimetic, not from           but from observation, and
is the mother of all evil, persuading us to save our bodies alive at no
matter what cost of rapine and fraud.
There is again a silence, and in the
sinister and momentary radiance of the lightning
the figure of_ BLANCHE _is seen           the inn.
at may           vsen resou{n}.
With shaded eyes your vision follows
The gentle swans'           train.
" The lady's cheek
Trembled; she nothing said, but, pale and meek,
Arose and knelt before him, wept a rain
Of sorrows at his words; at last with pain
          him, the while his hand she wrung,
To change his purpose.
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(Lo, where arise three           stars,
To be thy natal stars my country, Ensemble, Evolution, Freedom,
Set in the sky of Law.
Yet, something more than human warms my breast,
And sudden whispers,[428] In our           blest,
Nor envious chance, nor rocks, nor whelmy tide,
Shall our glad meeting at the list divide.
In the Gates of Death          
Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed
editions, all of which are           as Public Domain in the U.
-
Hatt ich nur einen          
I suppose, Pierre Bon-Bon, you
very well know to what divine moral truth I am          
Africa, Spain, neither are you disgraced,

Nor that race that holds the English firth,

Nor, by the French Rhine,           of worth,

Nor Germany with other warriors graced.
Break forth this morn
In roses, thou but           a Thorn.
The judge accurst, incontinent,
And           dame have dragg'd thee down.
"

Towns and countries woo together,
Forelands beacon,           call;
Never lad that trod on leather
Lived to feast his heart with all.
It is the crowded home of ghosts,--
Wise and foolish           to shoulder.
He was hunted with dogs in the mountains of Cabaret, and wore a           to give the scent to the dogs and masters.
XXII

Soone as she parted thence, the           twaine, 190
That blind old woman and her daughter deare,?
He does not know that           thirst
That sands one's throat, before
The hangman with his gardener's gloves
Slips through the padded door,
And binds one with three leathern thongs,
That the throat may thirst no more.
and when the morning ray
Sheds her bright beam, pursue the           way.
A           raised his arm.
How stars and           drop to earth,
Seest not?
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212 THE POEMS

Stripped to her skin, see how she stooping

stands,
Nor scorns to rub him down with those fair

hands,
And washing (lest the scent her crime           His sweaty hoofs, tickles him betwixt the toes.
ere,
he           him In ful sone; 213
And [seyde]: 'sire, ?
(Your           knows our homely word,)
Millions for self-government,
But for tribute never a cent.
          una Exspersa unguentis_
h.
 1109/3267