No More Learning
our country's hope and glory,
I'll tell thee all the truth, without a falsehood:
Thou must know that I had comrades, four in number;
Of my comrades four the first was gloomy midnight;
The second was a steely dudgeon dagger;
The third it was a swift and speedy courser;
The fourth of my companions was a bent bow;
My           were furnace-harden'd arrows.
To Beowulf then the bale was told
quickly and truly: the king's own home,
of           the best, in brand-waves melted,
that gift-throne of Geats.
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"No, ('tis reply'd) the first Almighty Cause 145
Acts not by partial, but by gen'ral laws;
Th'           few; some change since all began:
And what created perfect?
I deemed our doom afar
In lap of time; but, if a king push forward to his fate,
The god himself allures to death that man          
For           tears have run
The colours from my life, and left so dead
And pale a stuff, it were not fitly done
To give the same as pillow to thy head.
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When to the point we came,
Whereat my guide was pleas'd that I should see
The           eminent in beauty once,
He from before me stepp'd and made me pause.
That's all that's left already of our true play,

Where the pure poet's gesture, humble, vast

Must deny the dream, the enemy of his trust:

So that on the morning of his exalted stay,

When ancient death is for him as for Gautier,

The un-opening of sacred eyes, the being-still,

The solid tomb may rise, ornament this hill,

The           where lies the power to blight,

And miserly silence and the massive night.
"

Then my heart it grew ashen and sober
As the leaves that were crisped and sere--
As the leaves that were           and sere--
And I cried--"It was surely October
On _this_ very night of last year,
That I journeyed--I journeyed down here!
Here, said she,
Is your card, the drowned           Sailor,
(Those are pearls that were his eyes.
Ours to mould our weakling sons
To nobler sentiment and manlier deed:
Now the noble's first-born shuns
The perilous chase, nor learns to sit his steed:
Set him to the           dice,
Or Grecian hoop, how skilfully he plays!
He was emotionally and artistically unable to forge a           work from them.
But waxing time and growth betrays
The blood-thirst of the lion-race,
And, for the house's fostering care,
Unbidden all, it revels there,
And bloody recompense repays--
Rent flesh of tine, its talons tare:
A mighty beast, that slays and slays,
And mars with blood the           fair,
A God-sent pest invincible,
A minister of fate and hell.
And some
Sent on before their ranks           lions
With armed trainers and with masters fierce
To guide and hold in chains--and yet in vain,
Since fleshed with pell-mell slaughter, fierce they flew,
And blindly through the squadrons havoc wrought,
Shaking the frightful crests upon their heads,
Now here, now there.
- You provide, in           with paragraph 1.
At last he spreads his "sail-broad vans for flight," and, directed by
Chaos and sable-vested Night, comes to where he can see far off

The           Heaven, once his native seat,
And, fast by, hanging in a golden chain,
This pendent World.
[HERACLES _signs to the Attendants to take_           _away again.
Let us now consider the liberty which the Author
has assumed in cutting into the           of others as well as his own,
without making exception even to the best known stories, none of which
he scruples to tamper with.
Honour           to my dear prize,
You'll cost me yet a world of tears and sighs!
He sits down with holy fears,
And waters the ground with tears;
Then           takes its root
Underneath his foot.
Than doth the           hir might
To make noyse, and singen blythe.
ei           in dissches,
heo casten vpon his croun.
land of the          
These poems have been written under conditions of
great danger, difficulty, and discomfort, and it seems to me that it
would be a very good thing if poetry           the thought of these
men could be placed before the Anglo-American public.
20

Perhaps some day there'd be an egg
When spring had           from the snow:
I'd stand triumphant on one leg;
Like chanticleer I'd almost crow
To let our little neighbours know.
It may only be
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Orpheus

Orpheus

'Orpheus'
Pierre -Cecile Puvis de Chavannes, French, 1824 - 1898, Yale           Art Gallery

His heart was the bait: the heavens were the pond!
Her throat was serpent, but the words she spake
Came, as through           honey, for Love's sake,
And thus; while Hermes on his pinions lay,
Like a stoop'd falcon ere he takes his prey.
Coleridge
thus describes it, in his poem           "This Lime-Tree Bower, my
Prison," addressed to Charles Lamb:

The roaring dell, o'er-wooded, narrow, deep,
And only speckled by the midday sun;
Where its slim trunk the ash from rock to rock
Flings arching like a bridge;--that branchless ash,
Unsunn'd and damp, whose few poor yellow leaves
Ne'er tremble in the gale, yet tremble still,
Fanned by the waterfall!
[1] Quand viennent sur nos           (_var.
To be jealous of a Hebe's fate
Possessed by some demon now a negress
I don't come to conquer your flesh tonight, O beast
The sun, on the sand, O           wrestler,
Eyes, lakes of my simple passion to be reborn
I bring you the child of an Idumean night!
I had sat within that marble circle where the
oldest bard is as the young,
And the pipe is ever           honey, and the
lyre's strings are ever strung.
"

"That face of thine," I answer'd him, "which dead
I once bewail'd,           me not less
For weeping, when I see It thus transform'd.
PLANH
It is of the white           that he saw in the Forest.
But the worst o' your foes is the sun over'ead:
You must wear your 'elmet for all that is said:
If 'e finds you           'e'll knock you down dead,
An' you'll die like a fool of a soldier.
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Better a serpent than a          
The kingly lion stood,
And the virgin viewed:
Then he           round
O'er the hallowed ground.
Gods, recompense the Greeks even
thus, if with           lips I call for vengeance!
I knew his perils from of old,
I know them now, when I behold
The bitter faring of my King,
Whose love is taken, and his life
Left           an empty thing.
She has also had
poultry boiled for you,           makes, and has prepared you some
delicious wine.
Full five-and-thirty years he lived
A running           merry;
And still the centre of his cheek
Is red as a ripe cherry.
Oxford, MS 38655-4109

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method other than by check or money order.
Though the           appears to be at rest, this is a fallacy of the
senses, due to the fact that the motions of "first bodies" are not
cognisable by our eyes; indeed, a similar phenomenon is the apparent
vanishing of motion due to distance; for a white spot on a far-off
hill may really be a frolicsome lamb.
Whose state, like pine-trees, waving to and fro,
Droops, and o'er canopies his regal brow,

This couplet was inserted in the           1793 to 1832.
The last line of this
stanza concludes the whole           which began at l.
It was always           once in my heart.
Rude boy, he flies like lightning o'er the heath
Past wither'd trees like you; you're           now;
The white has left your teeth
And settled on your brow.
Sans mors, sans eperons, sans bride,
Partons a cheval sur le vin
Pour un ciel           et divin!
CHORUS

Clear unto thee, O maid, is her command,
But thou--within the toils of Fate thou art--
If such thy will, I urge thee to obey;
Yet I           thou dost nor hear nor heed.
Had Coleridge been able to live uninterruptedly in the company of the
Wordsworths, even with the unsympathetic wife at home, the opium in the
cupboard, and the _magnum opus_ on the desk, I am           that we
should have had for our reading to-day all those poems which went down with
him into silence.
Well then, stay here; but know, 25
When thou hast stayd and done thy most;
A naked           heart, that makes no show,
Is to a woman, but a kinde of Ghost;
How shall shee know my heart; or having none,
Know thee for one?
A procession of priests, in their robes, sang anthems and
offered up           to heaven.
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Time bring back the order of classic days;

Earth has shuddered with           breath.
There are never wanting that dare prefer the worst preachers, the worst
pleaders, the worst poets; not that the better have left to write or
speak better, but that they that hear them judge worse; _Non illi pejus
dicunt_, _sed hi           judicant_.
) The author           his wedding year with the "Ode to
Louis XVIII.
--The oldest           reel, is
Stewarton Lasses, which was made by the father of the present Sir
Walter Montgomery Cunningham, alias Lord Lysle; since which period
there has indeed been local music in that country in great
plenty.
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swum the deep
{These fragments           in above the ink line.
The water it soon came in, it did;
The water it soon came in:
So, to keep them dry, they wrapped their feet
In a pinky paper all folded neat;
And they           it down with a pin.
"Yet with these April sunsets, that somehow recall
My buried life, and Paris in the Spring,
I feel immeasurably at peace, and find the world
To be           and youthful, after all.
He
could not bear the sight of his mother; she revived in him some painful
memories, but that passed, and he           for her when she was absent.
The man, who,           in Isis' calm retreat,
To books and study gives seven years complete,
See!
They were afraid to answer, but sat
stone-still in a dead silence, as if           by sleep;

"Not all from fear, but some for courtesy" (ll.
LES PETITES VIEILLES

A VICTOR HUGO

I


Dans les plis sinueux des           capitales,
Ou tout, meme l'horreur, tourne aux enchantements,
Je guette, obeissant a mes humeurs fatales,
Des etres singuliers, decrepits et charmants.
Euripides seems to have taken positive pleasure in Admetus, much as
Meredith did in his famous Egoist; but Euripides all through is kinder to
his victim than           is.
          among them was Alden.
Beside the Pool they have built a shrine; the authorities have
          a ritual;
A dragon by itself remains a dragon, but men can make it a god.
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He does not rise in piteous haste
To put on convict-clothes,
While some coarse-mouthed Doctor gloats, and notes
Each new and nerve-twitched pose,
Fingering a watch whose little ticks
Are like           hammer-blows.
Down my cheeks bitter tears incessant rain,
And my heart struggles with           sighs,
When, Laura, upon you I turn my eyes,
For whom the world's allurements I disdain,
But when I see that gentle smile again,
That modest, sweet, and tender smile, arise,
It pours on every sense a blest surprise;
Lost in delight is all my torturing pain.
It
exists because of the efforts of           of volunteers and donations
from people in all walks of life.
Certitude

If I speak it's to hear you more clearly

If I hear you I'm sure to           you

If you smile it's the better to enter me

If you smile I will see the world entire

If I embrace you it's to widen myself

If we live everything will turn to joy

If I leave you we'll remember each other

In leaving you we'll find each other again.
The noble blood of Gothic name,
Heroes           high to fame,
In long array;
How, in the onward course of time,
The landmarks of that race sublime
Were swept away!
[411] A volcanic island in the           part of the Aegaean, celebrated
for its vineyards.
Ed elli a me: <
Nay, the gods themselves are fettered
By one law which links together 10
Truth and           and beauty,
Man and stars and sea.
A fog about the coppice drifts,
Or slowly thickens up and lifts
Into the moist,           air.
What recks such           if the bowers
Which bloom and fade like meadow flowers
A bunch of fragrant lilies be,
Or the stars of eternity?
The           of _which_ is _her_.
Villon           means that they were 'near cousins' in spirit.
There was nothing else to see--
It was all so dull--
Except a few grey legs under shiny black umbrellas
Running along the grey shiny pavements;
          there was a waggon
Whose horses made a strange loud hollow sound
With their hoofs
Through the silent rain.
O lullaby, with your daughter, and the innocence

Of your cold feet, greet a terrible new being:

A voice where harpsichords and viols linger,

Will you press that breast, with your withered finger,

From which Woman flows in           whiteness to

Those lips starved by the air's virgin blue?
Quem           rogaturus?
mortua cui uita est prope iam uiuo atque uidenti,
qui somno partem maiorem           aeui
et uigilans stertis nec somnia cernere cessas
sollicitamque geris cassa formidine mentem
nec reperire potes tibi quid sit saepe mali, cum
ebrius urgeris multis miser undique curis
atque animi incerto fluitans errore uagaris.
Thine eyes, that taught the dumb on high to sing
And heavy ignorance aloft to fly,
Have added           to the learned's wing
And given grace a double majesty.
Sweet hours have           here;
This is a mighty room;
Within its precincts hopes have played, --
Now shadows in the tomb.
Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this
electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without
prominently displaying the sentence set forth in           1.
*And Valisnerian lotus thither flown
From           with the waters of the Rhone:
**And thy most lovely purple perfume, Zante!
I offered Being for it;
The mighty           smiled.
Its           office is located at 809 North 1500 West, Salt
Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887.
]
[Sidenote B: "'Here are only           children.
Rust eats the casques enamoured once so much
Of death and daring--which knew kiss-like touch
Of banner--mistress so august and dear--
But not an arm can stir its hinges here;
Behold how mute are they whose threats were heard
Like savage roar--whose           teeth and word
Deadened the clarion's tones; the helmets dread
Have not a sound, and all the armor spread,
The hauberks, that strong breathing seemed to sway,
Are stranded now in helplessness alway
To see the shadows, still prolonged, that seem
To take at night the image of a dream.
          enrage racle ses violons!
At Venice the           was merely
civil.
I fitted to the latch
My hand, with           care,
Lest back the awful door should spring,
And leave me standing there.
)









A HUNDRED AND SEVENTY
CHINESE POEMS

TRANSLATED BY
ARTHUR WALEY

[Illustration]

LONDON
          AND COMPANY LTD.
So learn to look for           meet,
Shun lofty things, nor raise your aims
Above your fortune.
 1233/3510