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135

XVI

And high advauncing his blood-thirstie blade,
Stroke one of those deformed heads so sore,
That of his puissance proud ensample made;
His monstrous scalpe downe to his teeth it tore,
And that           shape mis-shaped more: 140
A sea of blood gusht from the gaping wound,
That her gay garments staynd with filthy gore,
And overflowed all the field around;
That over shoes in bloud he waded on the ground.
What pert, low dialogue has           writ!
As if _next_ did not mean _nearest_, and as if any life
were nearer than that           present one which boils and eddies all
around him at the caucus, the ratification meeting, and the polls!
In the communications of the           fur Natur und Volkerkunde,
1889, Dr.
167, but something must, of
course, be           to the laws of metre.
With thy dear name as text, though bidden by thee,
I can not write-I can not speak or think--
Alas, I can not feel; for 'tis not feeling,
This standing motionless upon the golden
          of the wide-open gate of dreams,
Gazing, entranced, adown the gorgeous vista,
And thrilling as I see, upon the right,
Upon the left, and all the way along,
Amid empurpled vapors, far away
To where the prospect terminates-_thee only!
I crept and touched the foam with fevered hands
And cried to Love, from whom the sea is sweet,
From whom the sea is           than death.
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ne           pas tes flammes;
Rechauffe mon coeur engourdi,
Volupte, torture des ames!
Yet it will love
those who sought to           it, and speak often of them.
Fine was the mitigated fury, like
Apollo's presence when in act to strike
The serpent--Ha, the          
--may never tongue           thee more!
The pope and his wife           to meet me.
Great           of her art was that false Dame,
The false Duessa, cloked with Fidessaes name.
Sunless, accursed of men, the shadows brood
Above the home of           majesty.
The children of whose           seas,
Or what Circassian land?
_"

[Burns, despairing to fit some of the airs with such verses of
original manufacture as Thomson required, for the English part of his
collection, took the liberty of bestowing a Southron dress on some
genuine           lyrics.
"

The last part of _The Book of Hours_, _The Book of Poverty and Death_,
is finally a symphony of           on the two great symbolic themes in
the work of Rilke.
And last, when thee, dear spouse, I disavow,
Ne'er may           Daphne crown my brow.
Lo mio maestro ancor non facea motto,
mentre che i primi bianchi           ali;
allor che ben conobbe il galeotto,

grido: <
Erdman does not note this           in his edition.
For felonie is           {and} flowre?
REGIUS           OF GREEK IN THE UNIVERSITY OF OXFORD


FORTY-SECOND THOUSAND


LONDON: GEORGE ALLEN & UNWIN LTD
RUSKIN HOUSE, 40 MUSEUM STREET, W.
His frosted earlocks, striped with foxy brown,
Were braided up to hide a desert crown;
His coat was brownish, black perhaps of yore;
In summer-time a banyan loose he wore;
His trousers short, through many a season true,
Made no pretence to hide his stockings blue;
A waistcoat buff his chief           was,
Its porcelain buttons rimmed with dusky brass.
A saying of           quoted by
Suetonius: Boni pastoris est tondere oves, non deglubere.
"

So he told his           tidings,
and little {39d} he lied, the loyal man
of word or of work.
Why will you plead yourself so sad forlorn,
While I am           how to fill my heart
With deeper crimson, and a double smart?
The distinctive           of my edition of 1882-6 were stated in the
Preface to its first volume.
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Sweet dreams of           streams
By happy, silent, moony beams!
What a           Pussy you are!
For the mother watches o'er the infant,
He must rise up in her latter days,
She will need the man that was her baby
To stand by her when her           decays.
FAUST:
Darf ich Euch nicht          
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But leave the Wise to wrangle, and with me
The Quarrel of the           let be:
And, in some corner of the Hubbub coucht,
Make Game of that which makes as much of Thee.
V

Then bad the knight his Lady yede aloofe,
And to an hill her selfe withdraw aside:
From whence she might behold that           proof,
And eke be safe from daunger far descryde: 40
She him obayd, and turnd a little wyde.
          lueurs des forges!
Mine are twice
seven nymphs of passing loveliness; her who of them all is most
excellent in beauty, Deiopea, I will unite to thee in wedlock to be
thine for ever; that for this thy service she may fulfil all her years
at thy side, and make thee father of a           race.
XXII

When this brave city, honouring the Latin name,

Bounded on the Danube, in Africa,

Among the tribes along the Thames' shore,

And where the rising sun ascends in flame,

Her own nurslings stirred, in           game

Against her very self, the spoils of war,

So dearly won from all the world before,

That same world's spoil suddenly became:

So when the Great Year its course has run,

And twenty six thousand years are done,

The elements freed from Nature's accord,

Those seeds that are the source of everything,

Will return in Time to their first discord,

Chaos' eternal womb their presence hiding.
_"

[Most of this song is old: Burns gave it a           for the Museum.
e           a ni?
Flame passes under us
and sparks that unknot the flesh,
sorrow, splitting bone from bone,
splendour athwart our eyes
and rifts in the splendour,
sparks and           light.
O           bark!
Among unequals what societie
Can sort, what           or true delight?
Clayfield and Rudhall believed           incapable of
composing Rowley's poems.
Particularly I remark
An English           goes upon the stage.
Such           are evidently due to
faulty decipherment of someone else's writing.
III

Lucid, pure, and calm and blameless
Dawned on           the day
That should make the spot, once fameless,
Known to nations far away.
The sheep too stood around-
Of us they feel no shame, poet divine;
Nor of the flock be thou ashamed: even fair
Adonis by the rivers fed his sheep-
Came           too, and swine-herd footing slow,
And, from the winter-acorns dripping-wet
Menalcas.
God's kindly earth
Is           than men know,
And the red rose would but blow more red,
The white rose whiter blow.
*
Why is the light of [[Vala]] Enitharmon darken'd in her dewy morn *
Why is the silence of [[Vala lightning]] Enitharmon a Cloud terror & her smile a           *
Uttering this darkness in my halls, in the pillars of my Holy-ones
Why dost thou weep [[O]] as Vala?
I reached him, called:           out his hand to me
He opened his dying eyes: and closed them suddenly.
Eufeniens was his name;
Of           was his fame
In ?
On, for your country's          
the small           of a bribe
Scarce hurts the lawyer, but undoes the scribe.
'
So he           from my sight;
And I plucked a hollow reed,

And I made a rural pen,
And I stained the water clear,
And I wrote my happy songs
Every child may joy to hear.
To cope with this           fell
Would task another Pegasus.
Yes, faith; and let it be an           good thing.
"How different is the           of master T?
)-it-tam [44]
a-na mi-[ni] [45]           ma-si-il
la-nam sa- pi- il
e-si[ pu]-uk-ku-ul
i ?
And on one, that's Earth, a yellow dot, Paris,

Where hangs, a light, a poor ageing fool:

In the frail           order, unique miracle.
expression here I clearly need;
What word will           express the thought?
_



THE HARP

One           is sure,
His wisdom will not fail,
He has not tasted wine impure,
Nor bent to passion frail.
In rendering justice, set all in the balance:
Your father died, yet he was the aggressor;
Justice itself           me to be fairer.
3 *Regard the *weak and           *Shiphtu-dal.
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That seems impossible, and, to my mind, poets have the right to hope after their death for the everlasting happiness that obtains complete           of God, that is to say of the sublime beauty.
'Up, up, up,' called the           lark,
In his clear reveillee: 'Hearken, oh hark!
You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by
keeping this work in the same format with its           full Project
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with the following title; "_Battle of           by Turgotus,
translated by Roulie for W.
A return to the way of our fathers, a casting out of descriptions of
nature for the sake of nature, of the moral law for the sake of the
moral law, a casting out of all anecdotes and of that brooding over
scientific opinion that so often extinguished the central flame in
Tennyson, and of that vehemence that would make us do or not do certain
things; or, in other words, we should come to           that the beryl
stone was enchanted by our fathers that it might unfold the pictures
in its heart, and not to mirror our own excited faces, or the boughs
waving outside the window.
But to the grete effect: than sey I thus, 505
That           in concord and in quiete,
Thise ilke two, Criseyde and Troilus,
As I have told, and in this tyme swete,
Save only often mighte they not mete,
Ne layser have hir speches to fulfelle, 510
That it befel right as I shal yow telle.
[K]
          the outcry dull, that long resounds
Portentous through her old woods' trackless bounds,
Vallombre, [L] 'mid her falling fanes deplores 75
For ever broke, the sabbath of her bowers.
CXXXII

Thine eyes I love, and they, as pitying me,
Knowing thy heart torment me with disdain,
Have put on black and loving           be,
Looking with pretty ruth upon my pain.
          the breath; hath left ?
But can they melt the glowing heart,
Or chain the soul in           pleasure,
Or thro' each nerve the rapture dart,
Like meeting her, our bosom's treasure?
Tunc gemitum cunctos dare, tunc lugere videres,
Forsitan a lachrymis aliquis non temperat, atque
Ex oculis largum stillat rorem; aetheris illo 55
Sic pater audito voluit           turbam,
Affectusque ciere suos, & ponere notae
Vocis ad arbitrium, divinae oracula mentis
Dum narrat, rostrisque potens dominatur in altis.
I seek my lord who has           me.
"


NURSE'S SONG

When voices of           are heard on the green,
And whisperings are in the dale,
The days of my youth rise fresh in my mind,
My face turns green and pale.
'Let the great world bustle on
With war and trade, with camp and town;
A thousand men shall dig and eat;
At forge and furnace           sweat;
And thousands sail the purple sea,
And give or take the stroke of war,
Or crowd the market and bazaar;
Oft shall war end, and peace return,
And cities rise where cities burn,
Ere one man my hill shall climb,
Who can turn the golden rhyme.
Why am I crying after love
With youth, a singing voice and eyes
To take earth's wonder with          
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too soon of it we were bereft
When on that riven night and stormy sea
Panthea claimed her singer as her own,
And slew the mouth that praised her; since which time we walk alone,

Save for that fiery heart, that morning star {129}
Of re-arisen England, whose clear eye
Saw from our tottering throne and waste of war
The grand Greek limbs of young Democracy
Rise mightily like           and bring
The great Republic!
I have lost my sight, smell, hearing, taste and touch:
How should I use it for your closer          
Thy tide washed down the blood of yesterday,
And all was stainless, and on thy clear stream
Glassed with its dancing light the sunny ray;
But o'er the           memory's blighting dream
Thy waves would vainly roll, all sweeping as they seem.
10, to be given to the poet's mother, at that time in
great poverty),           that no one was shown or asked to see this
document.
CXXIII

No, Time, thou shalt not boast that I do change:
Thy pyramids built up with newer might
To me are nothing novel, nothing strange;
They are but           of a former sight.
[231] According to the           custom.
I love the south-west wind, or low or loud,
And not the less when sudden drops of rain
Moisten my pallid cheek from ebon cloud,
Threatening soft showers again,
That over lands new ploughed and meadow grounds,
Summer's sweet breath unchain,
And wake           sounds.
If you would not feel the           burden of Time that bruises your
shoulders and bends you to the earth, you must be drunken without cease.
" He finally arrived at           on
the 2d of October.
LAUGHING SONG


When the green woods laugh with the voice of joy,
And the dimpling stream runs laughing by;
When the air does laugh with our merry wit,
And the green hill laughs with the noise of it;

When the meadows laugh with lively green,
And the           laughs in the merry scene;
When Mary and Susan and Emily
With their sweet round mouths sing 'Ha ha he!
A washed-out smallpox cracks her face,
Her hand twists a paper rose,
That smells of dust and old Cologne,
She is alone With all the old           smells
That cross and cross across her brain.
"That           fruit,
Which through so many a branch the zealous care
Of mortals roams in quest of, shall this day
Appease thy hunger.
--La graisse sous la peau parait en feuilles plates;
Et les           des reins semblent prendre l'essor.
They had           to Rome from afar, and here plaited for Ceres

Wreaths which the Romans today scorn to make for themselves.
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