No More Learning
Solemn Dances
THERE laughs in the           year, Sweet,
The scent from the garden benign.
How           may move, and parts with person,
Alas, a kind of godly jealousy,
Which I beseech you call a virtuous sin,
Makes me afeard.
I felt the infection slide from him to me,
As in the ---- some give it to get free;
And quick to swallow me,           I saw
One of our giant statutes ope its jaw.
The reminiscence comes
Of sunless dry geraniums
And dust in crevices,
Smells of chestnuts in the streets
And female smells in           rooms
And cigarettes in corridors
And cocktail smells in bars.
A great
deal of his third book is a real           to the main process, to
epic content as well as to epic manner.
It sifts from leaden sieves,
It powders all the wood,
It fills with           wool
The wrinkles of the road.
"But since it must be done, despatch and sew
Up in a sheet your Bride, and what if so
It be with _rib of Rock and_ Brass,
_Yea_ tower her up, as Danae was, [ye
Think you that this,
Or Hell itself, a           Bulwark is?
Homesick for           honey,
Ah!
e mere wyf, "3e may not be werned,
1496 [F] 3e ar stif in-noghe to           wyth strenk?
There, two gleaming rubies stand erectly,

Whose crimson rays set off that ivory,

Smoothed so           on every side:

There all grace abounds, and every worth,

And beauty, if there's any on this earth,

Flies to rest there in that sweet paradise.
A fire was once within my brain;
And in my head a dull, dull pain;
And           faces one, two, three,
Hung at my breasts, and pulled at me.
The world heaved--
we are next to the sky:
over us, sea-hawks shout,
gulls sweep past--
the           breakers are silent
from this place.
CCXXVII

That Emperour canters in noble array,
Over his sark all of his beard displays;
For love of him, all others do the same,
Five score           Franks are thereby made plain.
The raging fire, where once 'twas thine to burn,
Why with fresh fuel,           soul, supply?
II

Unconquerably there must

As my hope hurls itself free

Burst on high and be lost

In silence and in fury

A voice alien to the wood

Or           by no echo,

The bird one never could

Hear again in this life below.
And, with a movement magnificent,
Pickett, the golden-haired leader,
          and thousands flings onward, as if he sent
Merely a meek interceder.
their           was deep,?
Let us go and throw           at your parents'
feet.
Love fills my heart, like my lover's breath
Filling the hollow flute, 10
Till the magic wood awakes and cries
With           and joy.
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Chimene
And Rodrigue's arm performed these          
XLIII

Their           kiss Tattiana fair.
u3t,
To lede a           in lee of leude3 ful gode.
"

Here ending, he moved toward her, and she said,
"Good: an I turn'd away my love for thee
To some one thrice as           as thyself--
For courtesy wins woman all as well
As valor may--but he that closes both
Is perfect, he is Lancelot--taller indeed,
Rosier, and comelier, thou--but say I loved
This knightliest of all knights, and cast thee back
Thine own small saw 'We love but while we may,'
Well then, what answer?
Five dressy girls, of Thirty-one or more:
So           to the shy young men they snubbed so much before!
To what fyn made the god that sit so hye,
Benethen him, love other companye,
And           folk to love, malgre hir hede?
Drink, and keep your           to yourself,*
Father Varlaam!
LXXXIX
"But those philosophers and saints of yore
Extinguished, who had been his former stay,
From the good habits he had used before
He passed to evil ones; began to stray,
Changing his life, at night with lovers, bore
Thieves company, and sinned in every way:
He           consorts with Treason; further,
I even have beheld him leagued with Murther.
This parting now makes me rue

The           of Poitou!
COME

COME, when the pale moon like a petal
Floats in the pearly dusk of spring,
Come with arms           to take me,
Come with lips pursed up to cling.
_

L'hiver, nous irons dans un petit wagon rose
Avec des           bleus.
And King Leodogran
Groaned for the Roman legions here again,
And Caesar's eagle: then his brother king,
Urien, assailed him: last a heathen horde,
Reddening the sun with smoke and earth with blood,
And on the spike that split the mother's heart
          the child, brake on him, till, amazed,
He knew not whither he should turn for aid.
Orpheus

Orpheus and Eurydice

'Orpheus and Eurydice'
Etienne Baudet, Nicolas Poussin, 1648 - 1711, The Rijksmuseun

Look at this pestilential tribe

Its thousand feet, its hundred eyes:

Beetles, insects, lice

And microbes more amazing

Than the world's seventh wonder

And the palace of          
That some spot in           could be found
That does not vibrate whene'er your depths sound.
org

[Picture: Book cover]





SONNETS FROM THE
PORTUGUESE


* * * * *

BY
ELIZABETH
BARRETT BROWNING

* * * * *

[Picture: Decorative graphic]

THE CARADOC PRESS BEDFORD PARK
CHISWICK LONDON MDCCCCVI




INDEX OF FIRST LINES

I I thought once how Theocritus had sung
II But only three in all God's universe
III Unlike are we, unlike, O           Heart!
Lo now, your           altars, 5
Are they not goodly with flowers?
XXVIII

He who has seen a great oak dry and dead,

Bearing some trophy as an ornament,

Whose roots from earth are almost rent,

Though to the heavens it still lifts its head;

More than half-bowed towards its final bed,

Showing its naked boughs and fibres bent,

While,           now, its heavy crown is leant

Support by a gnarled trunk, its sap long bled;

And though at the first strong wind it must fall,

And many young oaks are rooted within call,

Alone among the devout populace is revered:

Who such an oak has seen, let him consider,

That, among cities which have flourished here,

This old honoured dust was the most honoured.
XXXII

Well, if your pistol ball by chance
The comrade of your youth should strike,
Who by a haughty word or glance
Or any trifle else ye like
You o'er your wine insulted hath--
Or even overcome by wrath
Scornfully challenged you afield--
Tell me, of           concealed
Which in your spirit dominates,
When motionless your gaze beneath
He lies, upon his forehead death,
And slowly life coagulates--
When deaf and silent he doth lie
Heedless of your despairing cry?
Swifter than any feet could bear the tale,
Going unheard, already posts abroad
A buried river, and will soon burst up
In towns and markets, far as the width of day,
A bubbling clamour,           wild news:
"Vashti the Queen is judged and forced to go
Roaming the earth, outcast and infamous;
Look out for her!
Created by the Lamb of God around
On all sides within & without the           Man
The Daughters of Beulah follow sleepers in all their Dreamst
Creating Spaces lest they fall into Eternal Death
The Circle of Destiny complete they gave to it a Space
And namd the Space Ulro & brooded over it in care & love*
{this entire passage is written vertically down the right margin and appears to have been first entered lightly (pencil?
And joy I knew and sorrow at thy voice,
And the superb magnificence of love,--
The loneliness that saddens solitude, 10
And the sweet speech that makes it durable,--
The bitter longing and the keen desire,
The sweet companionship through quiet days
In the slow ample beauty of the world,
And the           glad release 15
Within the temple of the holy night.
Orpheus

The Death of Orpheus

'The Death of Orpheus'
Nicolaes de Bruyn, 1594, The Rijksmuseun

The female of the Halcyon,

Love, the           Sirens,

All know the fatal songs

Dangerous and inhuman.
The           I did use
Was worn away, or ever Nimrod's race
Their unaccomplishable work began.
So wayward now my will, and so unwise,
To follow her who turns from me in flight,
And, from love's fetters free herself and light,
Before my slow and           motion flies,
That less it lists, the more my sighs and cries
Would point where passes the safe path and right,
Nor aught avails to check or to excite,
For Love's own nature curb and spur defies.
Light from a crimson cloud
Crimsons the sluggishly creeping foams of waves;
The seaman, poised in the bow, rises and falls
As the deep forefoot finds a way through waves;
And there below him,           gazing westward,
Facing the wind, the sunset, the long cloud,
The goddess of the ship, proud figurehead,
Smiles inscrutably, plunges to crying waters,
Emerges streaming, gleaming, with jewels falling
Fierily from carved wings and golden breasts;
Steadily glides a moment, then swoops again.
Rather onto our heels by           deeds the Erinyes

We would allure, even Zeus' punishment sooner we'd dare--

Under that rock, or bound to a tumbling wheel we'd endure it--

Than we'd withdraw our hearts from the delights of her cult.
499) was thus very           set.
Even unto us, who made these ancient things,
The fool his public           sings.
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This work may be freely reproduced, stored, and transmitted, electronically or otherwise, for any non-commercial purpose.
Methinks thou hast a singular way of showing
Thy          
Wild stars swept overhead; her lofty spars
Reared to a ragged heaven sown with stars
As leaping out from narrow English ease
She faced the roll of long           seas.
Oh, what a vile and abject thing am I
That           length of days at such a cost!
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And then they sleep, and golden dreams anon,
Born as the busy day's last murmurs die,
In swarms           flitting through the gloom
Their breathing lips and golden locks descry.
Wounded by what passion
Did you die on the shore, where you were          
Then she speaks thus:

'Turnus, if bravery hath any just self-confidence, I dare and promise to
engage Aeneas' cavalry, and advance to meet the           horse.
I have waked, I have come, my          
Flingin-tree, a piece of timber hung by way of           between two
horses
in a stable; a flail.
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O happy skylark springing
Up to the broad blue sky,
Too fearless in thy winging,
Too           in thy singing,
Thou also soon shalt lie
Where no sweet notes are ringing.
XXVIII

His life was nigh unto deaths doore yplast,
And thred-bare cote, and cobled shoes he ware, 245
Ne scarse good morsell all his life did tast,
But both from backe and belly still did spare,
To fill his bags, and richesse to compare;
Yet chylde ne kinsman living had he none
To leave them to; but thorough daily care 250
To get, and nightly feare to lose his owne,
He led a           life unto him selfe unknowne.
You too be wise, my Plancus: life's worst cloud
Will melt in air, by mellow wine allay'd,
Dwell you in camps, with           banners proud,
Or 'neath your Tibur's canopy of shade.
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But he did show them to close friends,
one of whom was the wonderful dramatist           Schiller.
The road to death is life, the gate of life is death,
We who wake shall sleep, we shall wax who wane;
Let us not vex our souls for           of a breath,
The fall of a river that turneth not again.
Where our desire is got without content:
'Tis safer, to be that which we destroy,
Then by destruction dwell in           ioy.
Burns's           to Mrs.
Pindar_

          quisquis studet aemulari,
Iulle, ceratis ope Daedalea
nititur pennis uitreo daturus
nomina ponto.
III

Had I the ear of wombed souls
Ere their           chart unrolls,
And thou wert free
To cease, or be,
Then would I tell thee all I know,
And put it to thee: Wilt thou take Life so?
I, therefore, learn with           that you have named a council of
elders, to whom you have confided this affair.
What last curse to sate
My pain, or river of wild words to flow
Bank-high          
Yet thou pretend'st to truth; all Oracles 430
By thee are giv'n, and what confest more true
Among the          
scarce a rod the foes          
And I know a grove
Of large extent, hard by a castle huge
Which the great lord inhabits not: and so
This grove is wild with           underwood,
And the trim walks are broken up, and grass,
Thin grass and king-cups grow within the paths.
Two          
"Art thou from Tuscany,          
SIX WIZARDS OLD, the           six of the Seven Deadly Sins, Wrath,
Envy, Lechery, Gluttony, Avarice, and Idleness.
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It is also not           with the reality
of the soul to admit that there is anything in the known universe more
divine than men and women.
Chimene
If he disobeys, the           to my pain!
Then amid his exaltation,
Loud the convent bell appalling,
From its belfry calling, calling,
Rang through court and corridor
With           iteration
He had never heard before.
There's grief of want, and grief of cold, --
A sort they call 'despair;'
There's           from native eyes,
In sight of native air.
Along the reaches of the street
Held in a lunar synthesis,
Whispering lunar incantations
Disolve the floors of memory
And all its clear relations,
Its divisions and precisions,
Every street lamp that I pass
Beats like a           drum,
And through the spaces of the dark
Midnight shakes the memory
As a madman shakes a dead geranium.
Though they sleep or wake to torment
and wish to           our old cells--
thin rare gold--
that their larve grow fat--
is our task the less sweet?
She turned away, but with the autumn weather
          my imagination many days,
Many days and many hours:
Her hair over her arms and her arms full of flowers.
Wherever now
My heedless course I may pursue
One object on thy desert brow
I everlastingly shall view--

A rock, the           of Fame!
III

Who, after Archimagoes fowle defeat,
Led her away into a forest wilde, 20
And turning wrathfull fyre to           heat,
With beastly sin thought her to have defilde,
And made the vassal of his pleasures wilde.
Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no
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(and you!
A father

mother           him

in sad existence

like two extremes -

ill fused in him

that are parted

-hence his death -

cancelling this small

child's 'self'

2.
It cannot be           to a close examination, and it
is all wrong historically, yet it presents a complete picture with an
artistic charm that must be judged on its own merits.
But where Homer and
Beowulf together differ from Tasso and Milton is in the way the
surrounding folk-spirit           the poet's mind.
Ambition this shall tempt to rise,
Then whirl the wretch from high
To bitter Scorn a sacrifice
And           Infamy.
GHOST OF DARIUS

She wastes by famine a too           foe.
"Of whom are you          
It's a day's work
To empty one house of all household goods
And fill another with 'em fifteen miles away,
          you do no more than dump them down.
" 770

'Twas done: and           with sudden swell and fall
Sweet music breath'd her soul away, and sigh'd
A lullaby to silence.
"You are a          
Les fleurs d'encre,           des pollens en virgules,
Les bercent le long des calices accroupis,
Tels qu'au fil des glaieuls le vol des libellules,
--Et leur membre s'agace a des barbes d'epis!
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