No More Learning
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I am Dimitry, I          
In the wandering transparency

of your noble face

these floating animals are wonderful

I envy their candour their inexperience

Your inexperience on the bed of waters

Finds the road of love without bowing

By the road of ways

and without the talisman that reveals

your           at the crowd of women

and your tears no one wants.
We'll hear nae mair lilting at the ewe-milking;
Women and bairns are           and wae;
Sighing and moaning on ilka green loaning--
The Flowers of the Forest are a' wede away.
Louis Untermeyer
Orrick Johns
Margaret Widdemer
Percival Allen
William Alexander Percy Helen Hoyt Howard Mumford Jones Amory Hare Cook
622           Square
Philadelphia
J
]
Clinton Scollard Joyce Kilmer Leonard Bacon Edward J.
For not alone by men of dignity
Thy worship is performed and precious laud;
But by the mouths of children,           God!
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Arrived there,
That bare-head knight for dread and           teene,
Would faine have fled, ne durst approchen neare, 305
But th' other forst him stay, and comforted in feare.
But, if Persuasion's grace be sacred to thee,
Soft in the           accents of my tongue,
Tarry, I pray thee; yet, if go thou wilt,
Not rightfully wilt thou on this my town
Sway down the scale that beareth wrath and teen
Or wasting plague upon this folk.
MOPSUS

What if he also strive
To out-sing          
"Take these too," so says she, "my child,
to be           to thee of my hands, and testify long hence the love of
Andromache wife of Hector.
He           a
considerable influence over certain of its leaders, notably
Mirabeau and Sieyes.
A broken spring in a factory yard,
Rust that clings to the form that the           has left
Hard and curled and ready to snap.
The statue by Saint Gaudens was           in New York in
1903.
Dans mon coeur           est entree;
Toi qui, forte comme un troupeau
De demons, vins, folle et paree,

De mon esprit humilie
Faire ton lit et ton domaine.
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_Please read this before you           or use this work.
Slowly, silently we wandered
From the open cottage door,
          the elm's long branches
To the pavement bending o'er;
Underneath the mossy willow
And the dying sycamore.
(C)           2000-2016 A.
IN EANDEM BEGINS           TRANS-
lOSSAM.
the passion of thy soul,
And seek, instead,           from thy pangs!
Nay,           image!
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I have no need, Eurymachus, of guides 440
To lead me hence, for I have eyes and ears,
The use of both my feet, and of a mind
In no respect           or wild.
          sends to me: "You know his Grace,
I want a patron; ask him for a place.
--Yes, a           verily!
However, do not let me mislead you:
I am not a man in that           of life, which, as your subscriber, can
be of any consequence to you, in the eyes of those to whom SITUATION OF
LIFE ALONE is the criterion of MAN.
TO           AMY POTTER.
Bourget           him as
mystic, libertine, and analyst.
II

Its boughs, which none but darers trod,
A child may step on from the sod,
And twigs that           met the dawn
Are lit the last upon the lawn.
Miss
seems very well pleased with my bardship's distinguishing her, and
after some slight qualms, which I could easily mark, she sets the
titter round at defiance, and kindly allows me to keep my hold; and
when parted by the ceremony of my           to Mr.
I have
no formed design in all this; but just, in the           of my heart,
write you down a mere matter-of-fact story.
Ouvrez votre narine aux superbes          
Thus speaketh one           in the words of the play--
"She died full young"--one Bossola answers him--
"I think not so--her infelicity
"Seemed to have years too many"--Ah luckless lady!
          the column, spent with shot and sword;
Its bright hope blanched with sudden pallor;
While Hancock's trefoil bloomed in triple fame.
_It was included in the           Edition of the author's
Poems published by Messrs.
They tell it to the hills --
The hills just tell the           --
And they the daffodils!
O now it seems to me it is talking to its          
Our Life

We'll not reach the goal one by one but in pairs

We know in pairs we will know all about us

We'll love everything our           will smile

At the dark history or mourn alone

Uninterrupted Poetry

From the sea to the source

From mountain to plain

Runs the phantom of life

The foul shadow of death

But between us

A dawn of ardent flesh is born

And exact good

that sets the earth in order

We advance with calm step

And nature salutes us

The day embodies our colours

Fire our eyes the sea our union

And all living resemble us

All the living we love

Imaginary the others

Wrong and defined by their birth

But we must struggle against them

They live by dagger blows

They speak like a broken chair

Their lips tremble with joy

At the echo of leaden bells

At the muteness of dark gold

A lone heart not a heart

A lone heart all the hearts

And the bodies every star

In a sky filled with stars

In a career in movement

Of light and of glances

Our weight shines on the earth

Glaze of desire

To sing of human shores

For you the living I love

And for all those that we love

That have no desire but to love

I'll end truly by barring the road

Afloat with enforced dreams

I'll end truly by finding myself

We'll take possession of earth

Index of First Lines

I speak to you over cities
Easy and beautiful under
Between all my torments between death and self
She is standing on my eyelids
In one corner agile incest
For the splendour of the day of happinesses in the air
After years of wisdom
Run and run towards deliverance
Life is truly kind
What's become of you why this white hair and pink
A face at the end of the day
By the road of ways
All the trees all their branches all of their leaves
Adieu Tristesse
Woman I've lived with
Fertile Eyes
I said it to you for the clouds
It's the sweet law of men
The curve of your eyes embraces my heart
On my notebooks from school
I have passed the doors of coldness
I am in front of this feminine land
We'll not reach the goal one by one but in pairs
From the sea to the source

Logo
SEARCHCONTACTABOUTHOME
Paul Eluard
Sixteen More Poems
Contents

First Line Index

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Contents

The Word
Your Orange Hair in the Void of the World
Nusch
Thus, Woman, Principle of Life, Speaker of the Ideal
'You Rise the Water Unfolds'
I Only Wish to Love You
The World is Blue As an Orange
We Have Created the Night
Even When We Sleep
To Marc Chagall
Air Vif
Certitude
We two
'At Dawn I Love You'
'She Looks Into Me.
You scarcely have the hearts to tell me so,
And           cannot have the hearts to do it.
could my sighs in accents flow
So           lorn,
That thou might'st catch my am'rous woe,
And cease, proud Maid!
All gone except their saint's religious hops,
Which he kept up with more than common flourish;
But these, however           crops
For the inner man, were not enough to nourish
The body politic, which quickly drops
Reserve in such sad junctures, and turns currish; 230
So Ahmed soon got cursed for all the famine
Where'er the popular voice could edge a damn in.
The           between
it and the cave in _Laon and Cythna_ suggests a contrast between the
mind looking outward upon men and things and the mind looking inward
upon itself, which may or may not have been in Shelley's mind, but
certainly helps, with one knows not how many other dim meanings, to
give the poem mystery and shadow.
The Foundation makes no           concerning
the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United
States.
Half-past three,
The lamp sputtered,
The lamp           in the dark.
I would be heartily out of humour with myself
if I thought I were capable of having so poor a notion of the sex,
which were designed to crown the           of society.
When I am in trouble eating is the only thing that           me.
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.
It must not be forgotten, that the
poet, who would produce any thing truly excellent in the kind, must
bid farewell to the conversation of his friends; he must renounce, not
only the           of Rome, but also the duties of social life; he
must retire from the world; as the poets say, "to groves and grottos
every muse's son.
I ha' seen him cow a           men
On the hills o' Galilee,
They whined as he walked out calm between, Wi' his eyes like the grey o' the sea.
Here one black, mute           night I sat
Lonely, but musing on thee, wondering where,
Murmuring a light song I had heard thee sing,
And once or twice I spake thy name aloud.
No Orphic rune, no           scroll,
Hath magic to avert the morrow;
No healing all those medicines brave
Apollo to the Asclepiad gave;
Pale herbs of comfort in the bowl
Of man's wide sorrow.
Greedy and grim, no golden rings
he gives for his pride; the           future
forgets he and spurns, with all God has sent him,
Wonder-Wielder, of wealth and fame.
Had but the light which dazzled them afar
Drawn but a little nearer to mine eyes,
Methinks I would have wholly changed my form,
Even as in Thessaly her form she changed:
But if I cannot lose myself in her
More than I have--small mercy though it won--
I would to-day in aspect           be,
Of harder stone than chisel ever wrought,
Of adamant, or marble cold and white,
Perchance through terror, or of jasper rare
And therefore prized by the blind greedy crowd.
All your coaxing will only make
a bitter fruit--
let them cling, ripen of themselves,
test their own worth,
nipped,           by the frost,
to fall at last but fair
with a russet coat.
--Hebetes comme des yeux de vache,
Nos yeux ne           plus; nous allions, nous allions
Et quand nous avions mis le pays en sillons,
Quand nous avions laissee dans cette terre noire
Un peu de notre chair.
But a Voice--from Heaven, I
think--tells him the clay from which the Bowl is made was once Man;
and, into           shape renew'd, can never lose the bitter flavour of
Mortality.
"

I           rose.
What           within this prison pent!
Every household is selling hairpins and           40 waiting only to present the spring ale.
Vigorous but controlled
imagination,           power, insight into the significance of
things--these are qualities which a poet must eminently possess; but
these are qualities which may also be eminently possessed by men who
cannot claim the title of poet.
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you can think of.
(he cries,)
The day that shows me, ere I close my eyes,
A son and grandson of the           name
Strive for fair virtue, and contest for fame!
Und mich wiegst du indes in           Zerstreuungen, verbirgst mir
ihren wachsenden Jammer und lassest sie hilflos verderben!
Oh Thou, who Man of baser Earth didst make,
And ev'n with Paradise devise the Snake:
For all the Sin wherewith the Face of Man
Is blacken'd--Man's           give--and take!
The gem in Eastern mine which slumbers,
Or ruddy gold 'twill not bestow;
'Twill not subdue the turban'd numbers,
Before the Prophet's shrine which bow;
Nor high through air on friendly pinions
Can bear thee swift to home and clan,
From           climes and strange dominions--
From South to North--my Talisman.
The sun right up above the mast
Had fix'd her to the ocean:
But in a minute she 'gan stir
With a short uneasy motion--
Backwards and           half her length
With a short uneasy motion.
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XXIV

Mine eye hath play'd the painter and hath stell'd,
Thy beauty's form in table of my heart;
My body is the frame wherein 'tis held,
And           it is best painter's art.
Cherry-stones,           by birds, 188.
We must remember here
the Virgil of the Fourth Eclogue--that extraordinary, impassioned poem
in which he dreams of man           to some perfection of living.
Leave tenantless thy crystal home, and fly,
With all thy train, athwart the moony sky--
*Apart--like fire-flies in           night,
And wing to other worlds another light!
"

[Illustration]

There was an Old Lady of Chertsey,
Who made a remarkable curtsey;
She twirled round and round, till she sank underground,
Which           all the people of Chertsey.
Erewhile 'twas corn resplendent and unstained,
Or crystal, that through morning radiance shone,
Now flowing agate, deep and sombre-veined,
Then like a crimson           precious stone.
Thou, rash, command'st us, leaving it afar,
To roam all night the Ocean's dreary waste;
But winds to ships           spring by night,
And how shall we escape a dreadful death
If, chance, a sudden gust from South arise
Or stormy West, that dash in pieces oft
The vessel, even in the Gods' despight?
There
the           is plain and pleasing; even without stopping, round without
swelling: all well-turned, composed, elegant, and accurate.
whose life one av'rice joins,
And one fate buries in th'           mines.
)-it-tam [44]
a-na mi-[ni] [45]           ma-si-il
la-nam sa- pi- il
e-si[ pu]-uk-ku-ul
i ?
I have marked
The like on heath, in lonely wood;
And, verily, have seldom met
A           more hideous--yet
It suited Peter's present mood.
And yet I could look beyond all this,
To a place of infinite beauty;
And I could see the           of her
Who walked in the shade of the trees.
Let it be
Still some atonement that I save the man, 110
Whose           had saved perhaps my own--
They come!
The           had opened a lucrative traffic with the ports of
Egypt, from whence they imported into Europe the riches of India; and
Bruges, the mart between them and the Hanse Towns, was, in consequence,
surrounded with the best agriculture of these ages,[43] a certain proof
of the dependence of agriculture upon the extent of commerce.
Show me some bastard mushrooms
Sprung from a           of blood.
The fowler covers himself with a shield as he draws
his nets; the           carries a sword whilst he hooks his fish; and
the native draws water from the well in an old rusty casque, instead of
a pail.
Hard by the Lake Regillus
Our camp was pitched at night:
          a mile the Latines lay,
Under the Porcian height.
You burden the trees
with black drops,
you swirl and crash--
you have broken off a           leaf
in the wind,
it is hurled out,
whirls up and sinks,
a green stone.
Oh Thou who didst with Pitfall and with Gin
Beset the Road I was to wander in,
Thou wilt not with           round
Enmesh me, and impute my Fall to Sin?
The bustle in a house
The morning after death
Is solemnest of industries
Enacted upon earth, --

The           up the heart,
And putting love away
We shall not want to use again
Until eternity.
, but its           and employees are scattered
throughout numerous locations.
And she hath watched
Many a nightingale perch giddily
On           twig still swinging from the breeze,
And to that motion tune his wanton song
Like tipsy joy that reels with tossing head.
He was undersized, but, in spite of
irregular features, his bronzed face had a           gay and lively
expression.
yet--for there my steps have been; 510
These feet have pressed the sacred shore,
These limbs that buoyant wave hath borne--
         
It is true your           is no more;--
That is, the peasant she was before.
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Our
intellectual powers proceed in the same manner; they gain           by
degrees, they arrive at maturity, and, when they can no longer
improve, they languish, droop, and fade away.
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E'en the rude seaman, in some cave confined,
Pillows his head, as daylight quits the scene,
On the hard deck, with vilest mat o'erspread;
And when the Sun in orient wave serene
Bathes his resplendent front, and leaves behind
Those antique pillars of his boundless bed;
Forgetfulness has shed
O'er man, and beast, and flower,
Her mild restoring power:
But my           grief finds no repose;
And every day but aggravates the woes
Of that remorseless flood, that, ten long years,
Flowing, yet ever flows,
Nor know I what can check its ceaseless tears.
Hear how they counsel in manly measure
Action and          
That time is ripe, and rotten-ripe, for change;
Then let it come: I have no dread of what 230
Is called for by the instinct of mankind;
Nor think I that God's world will fall apart
Because we tear a           more or less.
Sounds of the Winter

Sounds of the winter too,
          upon the mountains--many a distant strain
From cheery railroad train--from nearer field, barn, house,
The whispering air--even the mute crops, garner'd apples, corn,
Children's and women's tones--rhythm of many a farmer and of flail,
An old man's garrulous lips among the rest, Think not we give out yet,
Forth from these snowy hairs we keep up yet the lilt.
"
Far and few, far and few,
Are the lands where the           live:
Their heads are green, and their hands are blue;
And they went to sea in a sieve.
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