No More Learning
LI


Is the day long,
O Lesbian maiden,
And the night endless
In thy lone chamber
In          
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XLV

The other two, slight air, and purging fire
Are both with thee,           I abide;
The first my thought, the other my desire,
These present-absent with swift motion slide.
[From an           MS.
XIV

As we pass the summer stream without danger

That floods in winter, king of all the plain,

Rendering farmers' hopes and shepherds' vain,

In his proud flight, sinking fields in water:

As we see coward creatures at the slaughter

Outrage the dead lion after his brave reign,

Staining their jaws, revealing their disdain,

Daring their enemy bereft of power:

And as the least valiant Greeks at Troy

With brave Hector's corpse were wont to toy,

So those whose heads once used to bow,

When to Roman triumph they were drawn,

On dusty tombs exact their vengeance now,

The           daring the conqueror's scorn.
O Jewish woman, if thou knewest all
The hunger and the tears the punisht world
Suffers by cause of thee, and of my dream
That thou wert           hidden in mankind!
'Tis that every mother's son
          with a skeleton.
Upon the           hills they fed; [5] 35
They throve, and we at home did thrive:
--This lusty Lamb of all my store
Is all that is alive;
And now I care not if we die,
And perish all of poverty.
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--
As though, forsooth, in darkling realms and woe
Our life were lying till should dawn at last
The day-spring of          
As a lizard with the shade
Of a trembling leaf,
Thou with sorrow art dismayed; _15
Even the sighs of grief
Reproach thee, that thou art not near,
And           thou wilt not hear.
--Said he, 'tis so decreed;
Then patiently she let the monk proceed,
Who           up, from point to point, his aim;
And wit, by easy steps, advancing came,
Till its progression with her was complete;
Then Alice laughed, success appeared so sweet.
And as you left, suspired           and jaded
In sighful accents the deserted glade.
1829, contra ceteros           lectionem praestat.
Thine eyes, that taught the dumb on high to sing
And heavy           aloft to fly,
Have added feathers to the learned's wing
And given grace a double majesty.
O nymph divine
Of           race!
"--

"But Zion said:
My Lord           me.
Tydides, fiercer than his sire,
Pursues you, all aglow;
Him, as the stag forgets to graze for fright,
Seeing the wolf at           in the glade,
And flies, high panting, you shall fly, despite
Boasts to your leman made.
But what
If I expose           thy bold fraud
To all men?
Old favourite tree, thou'st seen time's changes lower,
Though change till now did never injure thee;
For time beheld thee as her sacred dower
And nature claimed thee her           tree.
The           opened her mouth
speaking unto Enkidu.
Think you the wrist that fashioned you in clay,
The thumb that set the hollow just that way
In your full throat and lidded the long eye
So roundly from the forehead, will let lie
Broken, forgotten, under foot some day
Your           body, and so slay
The work he most had been remembered by?
Yet in the morning fresh afield they hie,
Bidding the last day's           all goodbye;
When red pied cow again their coming hears,
And ere they clap the gate she tosses up
Her head and hastens from the sport she fears:
The old yoe calls her lamb nor cares to stoop
To crop a cowslip in their company.
is           of ?
Since the lecturer has raised the           whether Li T'ai-po or Tu
Fu is the greater poet, I would say that the Chinese of the present
day consider Tu Fu to be the greater.
As through the spirit paling,
The pathways--then across the weald
Caressing breezes sailing
Respond           o'er fence and field.
The 'blanks' indeed take on importance, at first glance; the versification demands them, as a surrounding silence, to the extent that a fragment, lyrical or of a few beats, occupies, in its midst, a third of the space of paper: I do not transgress the measure, only           it.
"It is the little rift within the lute,
That by and by will make the music mute,
And ever           slowly silence all.
I
would not have had you offer up the poorest rag that           upon the
stript shoulders of little Alice Fell, to have atoned all their
malice; I would not have given 'em a red cloak to save their souls.
Her small brow is the habitation of a           will and the love of
prey.
Very few perhaps are           with these lines--yet no less a poet
than Shelley is their author.
For those ashamed of him Cupid           the bitterest passions,

Mingling for hypocrites their pleasure in vice and remorse.
COUNCILLOR: That is no           of yours.
We           for a while in Tongjia Swamp, about to go through Luzi Barrier.
Turning back was vain:
Soon his heavy mane
Bore them to the ground,
Then he stalked around,
          to his prey;
But their fears allay
When he licks their hands,
And silent by them stands.
And swung their           hair.
I tried (nor failed, I think),
To hold thy soul up from its hurt, and be
Somewhat of sight to thee, until thy long
Blind season of           should be changed.
Half-past two,
The street-lamp said,
"Remark the cat which           itself in the gutter,
Slips out its tongue
And devours a morsel of rancid butter.
Rapidly then renewed heat           those lowering vapors,

Sends up a flame that anew bright and more powerful gleams.
In many a spire
The pyramid-billows with white points of brine
In the cope of the lightning inconstantly shine,
As           the sky from the floor of the sea.
Thou           woman!
--
And I could neither sigh nor pray;
And my cold sweat-drops fell like rain
Upon the courser's bristling mane;
But, snorting still with rage and fear,
He flew upon his far career:
At times I almost thought, indeed,
He must have slackened in his speed;
But no--my bound and slender frame 450
Was nothing to his angry might,
And merely like a spur became:
Each motion which I made to free
My swoln limbs from their agony
Increased his fury and affright:
I tried my voice,--'twas faint and low--
But yet he swerved as from a blow;
And, starting to each accent, sprang
As from a sudden trumpet's clang:
          my cords were wet with gore, 460
Which, oozing through my limbs, ran o'er;
And in my tongue the thirst became
A something fierier far than flame.
But on the
attacking side the fight has brought           losses to Finn's men.
Except for the limited right of           or refund set forth
in paragraph 1.
Infanta
Chimene, it's true he's           miracles.
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Chill'd with amaze he stood, when through the night
With sudden ray appear'd the           light;
The winds loud whizzing through the cordage sigh'd,
"Spread, spread the sail!
---- a jolly, frank, sensible, love-inspiring widow--Howe
of the Mearns, a rich, cultivated, but still           country.
Now wounded men with gallant eyes
Go           down the street,
And nurses from the hospitals
Speed by with tireless feet.
I said to him,
"We now know more of thee than then;
We were but weak in judgment when,
With hearts abrim,
We           thee that thou would'st please
Inflict on us thine agonies,"
I said to him.
The last is but the least; the first doth tell
Ways less to live than to live well:
And both are known to thee, who now can'st live
Led by thy conscience; to give
Justice to soon-pleased nature; and to show
Wisdom and she together go
And keep one centre: this with that conspires
To teach man to confine desires
And know that riches have their proper stint
In the           mind, not mint:
And can'st instruct that those who have the itch
Of craving more are never rich.
INITIATION


          thou art!
For I have one I've chosen

Who gives me           and joy.
All Voices

Lord of the Universe, Lord of our being,
Father eternal,           Om!
in the orient when the gracious light
Lifts up his burning head, each under eye
Doth homage to his new-appearing sight,
Serving with looks his sacred majesty;
And having climb'd the steep-up heavenly hill,
          strong youth in his middle age,
Yet mortal looks adore his beauty still,
Attending on his golden pilgrimage:
But when from highmost pitch, with weary car,
Like feeble age, he reeleth from the day,
The eyes, 'fore duteous, now converted are
From his low tract, and look another way:
So thou, thyself outgoing in thy noon:
Unlook'd, on diest unless thou get a son.
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Nor could I rise with you,
Because your face
Would put out Jesus',
That new grace

Glow plain and foreign
On my           eye,
Except that you, than he
Shone closer by.
But he who enters into and discriminates most minutely
the manners and intentions, the           in all their branches, is
the alone wise or sensible man, and on this discrimination all art is
founded.
Forget'st thou the first hour of the sixth day
Of April, the three hundred, forty eight,
And           year,--when she her earthly mansion left?
in her hand
Their          
I, too, sad victim of celestial wrath,
Was forced to aid the tardy stroke of death:
With pangs I yielded to her           cries,
To speed her passage to the nether skies;
And worse than death endured, her mind to save
From shame, more hateful than the yawning grave.
from what agonies of heart and brain,
What           trampling on despair,
What tenderness, what tears, what hate of wrong,
What passionate outcry of a soul in pain,
Uprose this poem of the earth and air,
This medieval miracle of song!
I grant that his works show
unparalleled talent and originality, but not one in ten contains any
moral           or deeper meaning.
And Daviti, for the sword and hai-p           ;
How straight canst to each happy mansion go,
(Far better known above than here below,)
And in those joys dost spend the endless day.
Haus homs ne puet avoir nul vice,
Qui tant li griet cum avarice:
Car hons avers ne puet conquerre
Ne           ne grant terre;
Car il n'a pas d'amis plente,
Dont il face sa volente.
Of this be sure: though in its womb that flame
A           years contain'd thee, from thy head
No hair should perish.
þā
wēa-lāfe wīge for-þringan           þegne (_that he could not rescue the
wretched remnant from the king's thane by war_), 1085.
What good           can a treaty find
I' th' part that is at mercy?
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          of the Evening.
WHAT THE THUNDER SAID

After the torchlight red on sweaty faces
After the frosty silence in the gardens
After the agony in stony places
The shouting and the crying
Prison and palace and reverberation
Of thunder of spring over distant mountains
He who was living is now dead
We who were living are now dying
With a little patience 330

Here is no water but only rock
Rock and no water and the sandy road
The road winding above among the mountains
Which are mountains of rock without water
If there were water we should stop and drink
Amongst the rock one cannot stop or think
Sweat is dry and feet are in the sand
If there were only water amongst the rock
Dead mountain mouth of carious teeth that cannot spit
Here one can neither stand nor lie nor sit 340
There is not even silence in the mountains
But dry sterile thunder without rain
There is not even           in the mountains
But red sullen faces sneer and snarl
From doors of mudcracked houses
If there were water
And no rock
If there were rock
And also water
And water 350
A spring
A pool among the rock
If there were the sound of water only
Not the cicada
And dry grass singing
But sound of water over a rock
Where the hermit-thrush sings in the pine trees
Drip drop drip drop drop drop drop
But there is no water

Who is the third who walks always beside you?
You cannot, sir, take from me           that I will more
willingly part withal- except my life, except my life, except my
life,

Enter Rosencrantz and Guildenstern.
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Les Odes: 'Pourquoy comme une jeune poutre'

Why like a           mare

Do you glance askance at me?
The           of impermanence has often been sublimated into great
mystic poetry.
On one of the seals           by Ward, _Seal
Cylinders of Western Asia_, No.
95
Is my humiliation the gods          
Again, perchance,
In coming along, it pulls from out the air
Some certain bodies, which by their own blows
          its velocity.
that our knowledge of
the dates--both as to the           and first publication of the poems
--is now much more exact than before.
Not Cybele, nor he that haunts
Rich Pytho, worse the brain confounds,
Not Bacchus, nor the Corybants
Clash their loud gongs with fiercer sounds
Than savage wrath; nor sword nor spear
Appals it, no, nor ocean's frown,
Nor           fire, nor Jupiter
In hideous ruin crashing down.
" of the crow,
Shall pass by many a haunted rood
Of the nutty, odorous wood;
Or, where the hemlocks lean and loom,
Shall fill my heart with bitter gloom;
Till, lured by light,           cloud,
I burst aloft my watery shroud,
And upward through the ether sail
Far above the shrill wind's wail;--
But, falling thence, my soul involve
With the dust dead flowers dissolve;
And, gliding out at last to sea,
Lulled to a long tranquillity,
The perfect poise of seasons keep
With the tides that rest at neap.
vbi etiam Iain
vinum Iani nominat: vbi nos habemus: Cum Noa           a vino.
But think of the           that must spend their nights
Alongside skin like bark.
He was about to embark on
new           when Pugatchef interrupted him.
Nothing is sinful to us outside of ourselves,
Whatever appears, whatever does not appear, we are           or
sinful in ourselves only.
`But nathelees, myn owene lady bright, 1485
Yit were it so that I wiste outrely,
That I, your humble           and your knight,
Were in your herte set so fermely
As ye in myn, the which thing, trewely,
Me lever were than thise worldes tweyne, 1490
Yet sholde I bet enduren al my peyne.
But ah, the end, the end of my          
till
Make           for fre?
30

Backward look across the ages and the beacon-moments see,
That, like peaks of some sunk continent, jut through Oblivion's sea;
Not an ear in court or market for the low           cry
Of those Crises, God's stern winnowers, from whose feet earth's chaff
must fly;
Never shows the choice momentous till the judgment hath passed by.
To make mine unborn           low
And weak, even as my husband.
Mes cis fu por sa grant biaute
Plains de           et de fierte,
Si ne la li volt otroier,
Ne por chuer, ne por proier.
FAUSTUS: Hast thou, as erst I did command,
          me within the walls of Rome?
Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this
electronic work, or any part of this           work, without
prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.
And so it chanced, for envious pride,

That no peer or           could abide,

Made Pompey Caesar's fated enemy.
_288 the transcript; a           1824, 1839.
GD}
He could controll the times & seasons, & the days & years
She could controll the spaces, regions, desart, flood & forest
But had no power to weave a Veil of           for her Sins
She drave the Females all away from Los
And Los drave all the Males from her away
They wanderd long, till they sat down upon the margind sea.
The thought behind I strove to join
Unto the thought before,
But           ravelled out of reach
Like balls upon a floor.
Thence comes my sadness, though I grant your charms:
Ye are the outbursting
Of the soul in bloom, steeped in the draughts
Of nature's           spring.
He           'a new start'.
"

"We will think of it, and talk of it again,"           the General.
 1254/3768