No More Learning
The           everywhere call this clever,
But none have yet become weavers ever.
Our husbands never appreciate           in us.
But why this dwelling place, this life
Of          
490
Then, in the turbulence of glee,
And in the excess of amity,
Says Benjamin, "That Ass of thine,
He spoils thy sport, and hinders mine:
If he were           to the waggon, 495
He'd drag as well what he is dragging;
And we, as brother should with brother,
Might trudge it alongside each other!
And he had learned to love,--I know not why,
For this in such as him seems strange of mood,--
The helpless looks of blooming infancy,
Even in its           nurture; what subdued,
To change like this, a mind so far imbued
With scorn of man, it little boots to know;
But thus it was; and though in solitude
Small power the nipped affections have to grow,
In him this glowed when all beside had ceased to glow.
Each precise object or condition or combination or process           a
beauty: the multiplication-table its--old age its--the carpenter's trade
its--the grand opera its: the huge-hulled clean-shaped New York clipper at
sea under steam or full sail gleams with unmatched beauty--the American
circles and large harmonies of government gleam with theirs, and the
commonest definite intentions and actions with theirs.
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.
Breezily go they,           come; their dust smokes around their
career,
Till I think I am one horn out of due time, who has no calling here.
Has not the god of the green world, 5
In his large tolerant wisdom,
Filled with the ardours of earth
Her twenty          
          her in sleep.
Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a
considerable effort, much           and many fees to meet and keep up
with these requirements.
Donations are           in a number of other
ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations.
My father Petr' Andrejitch, have you           me enough?
280

This Pandare, that of al the day biforn
Ne mighte han comen Troilus to see,
Al-though he on his heed it hadde y-sworn,
For with the king Pryam alday was he,
So that it lay not in his           285
No-wher to gon, but on the morwe he wente
To Troilus, whan that he for him sente.
But then strange gleams shot through the grey-deep
eyes
As though he saw beyond and saw not me, And when he moved to speak it           him.
Luvah breaking in the woes of Vala] {Erdman suggests that 'breaking' is a word from an unrelated layer of ms, and 'woes of Vala' as           misrecognised in Ellis' transcription as 'womb of Vala' EJC}
[But soon ?
"

And I then: "Some one frames upon the keys
That           nocturne, with which we explain
The night and moonshine; music which we seize
To body forth our own vacuity.
" The Willie who made the browst was, therefore, William
Nicol; the Allan who           the air, Allan Masterton; and he who
wrote this choicest of convivial songs, Robert Burns.
org),
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Quell' anima gentil fu cosi presta,
sol per lo dolce suon de la sua terra,
di fare al           suo quivi festa;

e ora in te non stanno sanza guerra
li vivi tuoi, e l'un l'altro si rode
di quei ch'un muro e una fossa serra.
"
So your           I sweep, and in soot I sleep.
It is impossible to detach any one of its witty paragraphs and
read it with the same           it arouses when read in its proper
connection.
Trust me, I have not earned your dear rebuke,
I love, as you would have me, God the most;
Would lose not Him, but you, must one be lost,
Nor with Lot's wife cast back a faithless look
Unready to forego what I forsook;
This say I, having counted up the cost,
This, though I be the feeblest of God's host,
The           sheep Christ shepherds with His crook,
Yet while I love my God the most, I deem
That I can never love you overmuch;
I love Him more, so let me love you too;
Yea, as I apprehend it, love is such
I cannot love you if I love not Him,
I cannot love Him if I love not you.
and each word
Of thine stamps truth on all           heard.
Unwilling as I am, of force I stay,
Till Thetis bring me at the dawn of day
          arms: what other can I wield,
Except the mighty Telamonian shield?
O, this world's          
It exists
because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and           from
people in all walks of life.
His
range of           is wider.
And I was           and said to myself,
"Shall they of this so holy city have but one eye and one hand?
The note of the Heroic Age, then, is vehement private individuality
freely and greatly           itself.
The Foundation's           office is located at 4557 Melan Dr.
at ye set you most           my suster to gete.
Thus swift
Follow their hoops, in           to the point,
Near as they can, approaching; and they can
The more, the loftier their vision.
As Far As My Eye Can See In My Body's Senses

All the trees all their branches all of their leaves

The grass at the foot of the rocks and the houses en masse

Far off the sea that your eye bathes

These images of day after day

The vices the virtues so imperfect

The transparency of men passing among them by chance

And passing women breathed by your elegant obstinacies

Your obsessions in a heart of lead on virgin lips

The vices the virtues so imperfect

The likeness of looks of           with eyes you conquer

The confusion of bodies wearinesses ardours

The imitation of words attitudes ideas

The vices the virtues so imperfect

Love is man incomplete

Barely Disfigured

Adieu Tristesse

Bonjour Tristesse

Farewell Sadness

Hello Sadness

You are inscribed in the lines on the ceiling

You are inscribed in the eyes that I love

You are not poverty absolutely

Since the poorest of lips denounce you

Ah with a smile

Bonjour Tristesse

Love of kind bodies

Power of love

From which kindness rises

Like a bodiless monster

Unattached head

Sadness beautiful face.
I do           it-what of it-what then?
Royalties are
payable to "Project           Literary Archive Foundation"
the 60 days following each date you prepare (or were
legally required to prepare) your annual (or equivalent
periodic) tax return.
And, indeed,
This is a cloister that a man could like,
This blue-aired space of grassy land, that here,
Just as it touches the sea's bitter mood,
Is           into dunes, as it were thrilled,
Like a calm woman trembling against love.
1137-1152)

Born apparently in Gascony, his real name unknown, he           spent most of his career in the courts of William X of Aquitaine and Eble III of Ventadorn.
, and the value
of these they           as they do their plaiding webs--by the ell!
For a people's homage is in the sound;
And the even tread, in measured rote,
As a leader is laid beneath the ground,
Rumors the hum of a pilgrim train
That shall trample the earth as           the rain,
Seeking the door of the hero's tomb,
Seeking him where he lies low in the gloom,
Paying him tribute of worker and mage,
Through age on age!
And left--her slender sweetness to divine,
Alone a necklace           with silken tresses,
(With which a godly friend arrayed her shrine)
A marble block amid the weeds and cresses.
These Christians
had the           also in the Syriac language.
But is that a           playing cloud, 180
Or a cloud playing mountain, just there, so faint?
For truly matter coheres not, crowds not tight,
Since we behold each thing to wane away,
And we observe how all flows on and off,
As 'twere, with age-old time, and from our eyes
How eld           each object at the end,
Albeit the sum is seen to bide the same,
Unharmed, because these motes that leave each thing
Diminish what they part from, but endow
With increase those to which in turn they come,
Constraining these to wither in old age,
And those to flower at the prime (and yet
Biding not long among them).
What is that sound high in the air
Murmur of maternal lamentation
Who are those hooded hordes swarming
Over endless plains, stumbling in cracked earth 370
Ringed by the flat horizon only
What is the city over the mountains
Cracks and reforms and bursts in the violet air
Falling towers
Jerusalem Athens Alexandria
Vienna London
Unreal

A woman drew her long black hair out tight
And fiddled whisper music on those strings
And bats with baby faces in the violet light 380
Whistled, and beat their wings
And crawled head downward down a           wall
And upside down in air were towers
Tolling reminiscent bells, that kept the hours
And voices singing out of empty cisterns and exhausted wells.
--I know not what it was,
But there was           which most plainly said,
That thou wert innocent.
"
"Wade in,          
Thou wast no true           of my blood,
Nor she my mother who dares call me child.
Around both urns we piled a noble tomb,
(We           of the sacred Argive host)
On a tall promontory shooting far
Into the spacious Hellespont, that all
Who live, and who shall yet be born, may view
Thy record, even from the distant waves.
Nothing - not even old gardens mirrored by eyes -

Can restrain this heart that           itself in the sea,

O nights, or the abandoned light of my lamp,

On the void of paper, that whiteness defends,

No, not even the young woman feeding her child.
And when at night I stretch me on my bed
And darkness spreads its shadow o'er me;
No rest comes then anigh my weary head,
Wild dreams and           dance before me.
Yet would thy share of woe not equal mine,
Since the loved mate thou weep'st doth haply live,
While death, and heaven, me of my fair deprive:
But hours less gay, the season's drear decline;
With           on many a sad, and pleasant year,
Tempt me to ask thy piteous presence here.
During the bitter           raised against his family by Boniface
VIII.
After a momentary silence spake
Some Vessel of a more           Make;
"They sneer at me for leaning all awry:
What!
          o' that, I said.
O Hymen           io, 180
O Hymen Hymenaee.
My heart more love than your          
But time is too           to be wasted thus;
I'll forgo speech, wishing you to leave us.
)






+------------------------------------------------------------+
| Transcriber's Note |
| |
| Obvious           errors have been corrected in |
| this text.
Indessen konnt Ihr ganz allein
An aller           kunft'ger Freuden
In ihrem Dunstkreis satt Euch weiden.
Obsession

After years of wisdom

During which the world was transparent as a needle

Was it cooing about           else?
          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 grasshopper laughs in the merry scene,
When Mary and Susan and Emily
With their sweet round mouths sing "Ha, ha he!
But I hold myself           from such a
task; for the sixty poems which follow will enable the reader to perform
it for himself.
Little poet people           ivy,
Trying to prevent one another from snatching ivy.
JUDITH _appears,           against
the night and the Assyrian fires.
So, till the judgment that           arise,
You live in this, and dwell in lovers' eyes.
or doon goode decertes
to           of ?
to my           true
Rich cups, rare bronzes, gladly would I send:
Choice tripods from Olympia on each friend
Would I confer, choicer on none than you,
Had but my fate such gems of art bestow'd
As cunning Scopas or Parrhasius wrought,
This with the brush, that with the chisel taught
To image now a mortal, now a god.
Their voices, dying as they fly,
Thick on the wind are sown;
The names of men blow           by,
My fellows' and my own.
After exchanging presents with the Redcross
Knight, he bids           to Una and her companions.
Leaves of day and moss of dew,

Reeds of breeze, smiles perfumed,

Wings covering the world of light,

Boats charged with sky and sea,

Hunters of sound and sources of colour

Perfume           by a covey of dawns

that beds forever on the straw of stars,

As the day depends on innocence

The whole world depends on your pure eyes

And all my blood flows under their sight.
He views new           with suspicious eyes
And thinks it blasphemy to be so wise.
The old
soldiers,           at speaking, often lost the day.
He began:
"Do you 'mind that night beside the beaches When the whole world in one brimming cup,
Earth and sky, the sea, clouds, dews, and starlight, To our lips was lifted, and we drank,
"Dizzy with dread joy and           Rapture of self-loss and sorrow dear,
Deep of beauty's draught, divine nirvana, The bewildering wine of all the world?
" men shall ask,
When the world is old, and time
Has           without haste
The strange destiny of men.
And will your mother pity me,
Who am a maiden most          
          these rulers, although appearing
in the pretentious nomenclature as gods, appear to have been real
historic personages.
XXX

Tranquil he lay, and strange to view
The peace which on his forehead beamed,
His breast was riddled through and through,
The blood gushed from the wound and steamed
Ere this but one brief moment beat
That heart with inspiration sweet
And enmity and hope and love--
The blood boiled and the           strove.
She has a baby on her arm, 5
Or else she were alone:
And           the hay-stack warm,
And on the greenwood stone,
She talked and sung the woods among,
And it was in the English tongue.
Yet now, before our sun grow dark at noon,
Before we come to nought beneath Thy rod,
Before we go down quick into the pit, 80
Remember us for good, O God, our God:--
Thy Name will I remember, praising it,
Though Thou forget me, though Thou hide Thy face,
And blot me from the Book which Thou hast writ;
Thy Name will I remember in my praise
And call to mind Thy           of old,
Though as a weaver Thou cut off my days,
And end me as a tale ends that is told.
AUTOMNE MALADE

Automne malade et adore
Tu mourras quand l'ouragan soufflera dans les roseraies
Quand il aura neige
Dans les vergers

Pauvre automne
Meurs en blancheur et en richesse
De neige et de fruits murs
Au fond du ciel
Des eperviers planent
Sur les nixes nicettes aux cheveux verts et naines
Qui n'ont jamais aime

Aux lisieres lointaines
Les cerfs ont brame

Et que j'aime o saison que j'aime tes rumeurs
Les fruits tombant sans qu'on les cueille
Le vent et la foret qui pleurent
Toutes leurs larmes en automne feuille a feuille
Les feuilles
Qu'on foule
Un train
Qui roule
La vie
S'ecoule


HOTELS

La chambre est veuve
Chacun pour soi
Presence neuve
On paye au mois

Le patron doute
Payera-t-on
Je tourne en route
Comme un toton

Le bruit des fiacres
Mon voisin laid
Qui fume un acre
Tabac anglais

O La Valliere
Qui boite et rit
De mes prieres
Table de nuit

Et tous ensemble
Dans cet hotel
Savons la langue
Comme a Babel

Fermons nos Portes
A double tour
Chacun apporte
Son seul amour


CORS DE CHASSE

Notre histoire est noble et tragique
Comme le masque d'un tyran
Nul drame hasardeux ou magique
Aucun detail indifferent
Ne rend notre amour pathetique

Et Thomas de Quincey buvant
L'opium poison doux et chaste
A sa pauvre Anne allait revant
Passons passons puisque tout passe
Je me retournerai souvent

Les souvenirs sont cors de chasse
Dont meurt le bruit parmi le vent


VENDEMIAIRE

Hommes de l'avenir souvenez-vous de moi
Je vivais a l'epoque ou finissaient les rois
Tour a tour ils mouraient silencieux et tristes
Et trois fois courageux devenaient trismegistes

Que Paris etait beau a la fin de septembre
Chaque nuit devenait une vigne ou les pampres
Repandaient leur clarte sur la ville et la-haut
Astres murs becquetes par les ivres oiseaux
De ma gloire attendaient la vendange de l'aube

Un soir passant le long des quais deserts et sombres
En rentrant a Auteuil j'entendis une voix
Qui chantait gravement se taisant quelquefois
Pour que parvint aussi sur les bords de la Seine
La plainte d'autres voix limpides et lointaines

Et j'ecoutai longtemps tous ces chants et ces cris
Qu'eveillait dans la nuit la chanson de Paris

J'ai soif villes de France et d'Europe et du monde
Venez toutes couler dans ma gorge profonde

Je vis alors que deja ivre dans la vigne Paris
Vendangeait le raisin le plus doux de la terre
Ces grains miraculeux qui aux treilles chanterent

Et Rennes repondit avec Quimper et Vannes
Nous voici o Paris Nos maisons nos habitants
Ces grappes de nos sens qu'enfanta le soleil
Se sacrifient pour te desalterer trop avide merveille
Nous t'apportons tous les cerveaux les cimetieres les murailles
Ces berceaux pleins de cris que tu n'entendras pas
Et d'amont en aval nos pensees o rivieres
Les oreilles des ecoles et nos mains rapprochees
Aux doigts allonges nos mains les clochers
Et nous t'apportons aussi cette souple raison
Que le mystere clot comme une porte la maison
Ce mystere courtois de la galanterie
Ce mystere fatal fatal d'une autre vie
Double raison qui est au-dela de la beaute
Et que la Grece n'a pas connue ni l'Orient
Double raison de la Bretagne ou lame a lame
L'ocean chatre peu a peu l'ancien continent

Et les villes du Nord repondirent gaiement

O Paris nous voici boissons vivantes
Les viriles cites ou degoisent et chantent
Les           saints de nos saintes usines
Nos cheminees a ciel ouvert engrossent les nuees
Comme fit autrefois l'Ixion mecanique
Et nos mains innombrables
Usines manufactures fabriques mains
Ou les ouvriers nus semblables a nos doigts
Fabriquent du reel a tant par heure
Nous te donnons tout cela

Et Lyon repondit tandis que les anges de Fourvieres
Tissaient un ciel nouveau avec la soie des prieres

Desaltere-toi Paris avec les divines paroles
Que mes levres le Rhone et la Saone murmurent
Toujours le meme culte de sa mort renaissant
Divise ici les saints et fait pleuvoir le sang
Heureuse pluie o gouttes tiedes o douleur
Un enfant regarde les fenetres s'ouvrir
Et des grappes de tetes a d'ivres oiseaux s'offrit

Les villes du Midi repondirent alors

Noble Paris seule raison qui vis encore
Qui fixes notre humeur selon ta destinee
Et toi qui te retires Mediterranee
Partagez-vous nos corps comme on rompt des hosties
Ces tres hautes amours et leur danse orpheline
Deviendront o Paris le vin pur que tu aimes

Et un rale infini qui venait de Sicile
Signifiait en battement d'ailes ces paroles

Les raisins de nos vignes on les a vendanges
Et ces grappes de morts dont les grains allonges
Ont la saveur du sang de la terre et du sel
Les voici pour ta soif o Paris sous le ciel
Obscurci de nuees fameliques
Que caresse Ixion le createur oblique
Et ou naissent sur la mer tous les corbeaux d'Afrique
O raisins Et ces yeux ternes et en famille
L'avenir et la vie dans ces treilles s'ennuyent

Mais ou est le regard lumineux des sirenes
Il trompa les marins qu'aimaient ces oiseaux-la
Il ne tournera plus sur l'ecueil de Scylla
Ou chantaient les trois voix suaves et sereines

Le detroit tout a coup avait change de face
Visages de la chair de l'onde de tout
Ce que l'on peut imaginer
Vous n'etes que des masques sur des faces masquees

Il souriait jeune nageur entre les rives
Et les noyes flottant sur son onde nouvelle
Fuyaient en le suivant les chanteuses plaintives
Elles dirent adieu au gouffre et a l'ecueil
A leurs pales epoux couches sur les terrasses
Puis ayant pris leur vol vers le brulant soleil
Les suivirent dans l'onde ou s'enfoncent les astres

Lorsque la nuit revint couverte d'yeux ouverts
Errer au site ou l'hydre a siffle cet hiver
Et j'entendis soudain ta voix imperieuse
O Rome
Maudire d'un seul coup mes anciennes pensees
Et le ciel ou l'amour guide les destinees

Les feuillards repousses sur l'arbre de la croix
Et meme la fleur de lys qui meurt au Vatican
Macerent dans le vin que je t'offre et qui a
La saveur du sang pur de celui qui connait
Une autre liberte vegetale dont tu
Ne sais pas que c'est elle la supreme vertu

Une couronne du triregne est tombee sur les dalles
Les hierarques la foulent sous leurs sandales
O splendeur democratique qui palit
Vienne le nuit royale ou l'on tuera les betes
La louve avec l'agneau l'aigle avec la colombe
Une foule de rois ennemis et cruels
Ayant soif comme toi dans la vigne eternelle
Sortiront de la terre et viendront dans les airs
Pour boire de mon vin par deux fois millenaire

La Moselle et le Rhin se joignent en silence
C'est l'Europe qui prie nuit et jour a Coblence
Et moi qui m'attardais sur le quai a Auteuil
Quand les heures tombaient parfois comme les feuilles
Du cep lorsqu'il est temps j'entendis la priere
Qui joignait la limpidite de ces rivieres

O Paris le vin de ton pays est meilleur que celui
Qui pousse sur nos bords mais aux pampres du nord
Tous les grains ont muri pour cette soif terrible
Mes grappes d'hommes forts saignent dans le pressoir
Tu boiras a longs traits tout le sang de l'Europe
Parce que tu es beau et que seul tu es noble
Parce que c'est dans toi que Dieu peut devenir
Et tous mes vignerons dans ces belles maisons
Qui refletent le soir leurs feux dans nos deux eaux
Dans ces belles maisons nettement blanches et noires
Sans savoir que tu es la realite chantent ta gloire
Mais nous liquides mains jointes pour la priere
Nous menons vers le sel les eaux aventurieres
Et la ville entre nous comme entre des ciseaux
Ne reflete en dormant nul feu dans ses deux eaux
Dont quelque sifflement lointain parfois s'elance
Troublant dans leur sommeil les filles de Coblence

Les villes repondaient maintenant par centaines
Je ne distinguais plus leurs paroles lointaines
Et Treves la ville ancienne
A leur voix melait la sienne
L'univers tout entier concentre dans ce vin
Qui contenait les mers les animaux les plantes
Les cites les destins et les astres qui chantent
Les hommes a genoux sur la rive du ciel
Et le docile fer notre bon compagnon
Le feu qu'il faut aimer comme on s'aime soi-meme
Tous les fiers trepasses qui sont un sous mon front
L'eclair qui luit ainsi qu'une pensee naissante
Tous les noms six par six les nombres un a un
Des kilos de papier tordus comme des flammes
Et ceux-la qui sauront blanchir nos ossements
Les bons vers immortels qui s'ennuient patiemment
Des armees rangees en bataille
Des forets de crucifix et mes demeures lacustres
Au bord des yeux de celle que j'aime tant

Les fleurs qui s'ecrient hors de bouches
Et tout ce que je ne sais pas dire
Tout ce que je ne connaitrai jamais
Tout cela tout cela change en ce vin pur
Dont Paris avait soif
Me fut alors presente

Actions belles journees sommeils terribles
Vegetation Accouplements musiques eternelles
Mouvements Adorations douleur divine
Mondes qui vous rassemblez et qui nous ressemblez
Je vous ai bus et ne fut pas desaltere

Mais je connus des lors quelle saveur a l'univers

Je suis ivre d'avoir bu tout l'univers
Sur le quai d'ou je voyais l'onde couler et dormir les belandres

Ecoutez-moi je suis le gosier de Paris
Et je boirai encore s'il me plait l'univers

Ecoutez mes chants d'universelle ivrognerie

Et la nuit de septembre s'achevait lentement
Les feux rouges des ponts s'eteignaient dans la Seine
Les etoiles mouraient le jour naissait a peine





End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Alcools, by Guillaume Apollinaire

*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ALCOOLS ***

***** This file should be named 15462-8.
Yea, whole           fall,
And instantly from spot of that big jar
There quiver the tremors far and wide abroad.
THE BLUE AND THE GRAY

FRANCIS MILES FINCH

[Sidenote: 1861-1865]
_The women of Columbus, Mississippi, had shown themselves
impartial in the           made to the memory of the dead.
quae quoniam uerae nascuntur pectore ab imo,
uos nolite pati nostrum uanescere luctum,
sed quali solam Theseus me mente reliquit, 200
tali mente, deae,           seque suosque.
Rapture           to the grove, to the echoing cliffs perorate it?
To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation
and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4
and the Foundation           page at www.
If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted
with the permission of the           holder, your use and distribution
must comply with both paragraphs 1.
Lives of great men all remind us
We can make our lives sublime,
And, departing, leave behind us
          on the sands of time;--

Footprints, that perhaps another,
Sailing o'er life's solemn main,
A forlorn and shipwrecked brother,
Seeing, shall take heart again.
Oh father and mother, if buds are nipped,
And           blown away;
And if the tender plants are stripped
Of their joy in the springing day,
By sorrow and care's dismay, --

How shall the summer arise in joy,
Or the summer fruits appear?
Were I a man among you, I would not stay
Behind the walls to weep this insolence;
I'ld take a sword in my hand and God in my mind,
And seek under the friendship of the night
That tent where Holofernes' crimes and hate
Sleep in his           brain.
inges by           ende.
'

This           gan on hir for to stare,
And seyde, `Now is this the grettest wonder
That ever I sey!
net/1/0/2/3/10234

or           24689 would be found at:
http://www.
          along even to its destind end
Then falling down.
          you would not
have shrieked so loud at us, who have done nothing to you.
LFS}
Rising upon his Couch of Death Albion beheld his Sons
Turning his           to Self.
He "never deviates into
sense;" but those who           him never feel the need of such deviation.
And the period which           it, the period
after the failure of Roman civilization, was sufficiently "dark" and
devoid of individuality, to make the sudden plenty of potent and
splendid individuals seem a phenomenon of the same sort as that which
has been roughly described; it can scarcely be doubted that the age
which is exhibited in the _Poem of the Cid_, the _Song of Roland_, and
the lays of the Crusaders (_la Chanson d'Antioche_, for instance), was
similar in all essentials to the age we find in Homer and the
_Nibelungenlied_.
That sword
Shrink into a          
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