No More Learning
Is it word from Ninus or Arbela,
Babylon the great, or           Imbros?
THE TALISMAN
FROM THE RUSSIAN OF           PUSHKIN
WITH OTHER PIECES




Contents:

The Talisman
The Mermaid
Ancient Russian Song
Ancient Ballad
The Renegade




THE TALISMAN


From the Russian of Pushkin.
]


How wisdom and folly meet, mix, and unite;
How virtue and vice blend their black and their white;
How genius, th' illustrious father of fiction,
Confounds rule and law, reconciles contradiction--
I sing: if these mortals, the critics, should bustle,
I care not, not I--let the critics go          
"What need, what need,
To hide with flowers the curse upon the hills,
Or           the banks of sluggish rills
Where vapors breed?
Even as often a
serpent caught on a highway, if a brazen wheel hath gone aslant over him
or a wayfarer left him half dead and mangled with the blow of a heavy
stone, wreathes himself slowly in vain effort to escape, in part
undaunted, his eyes ablaze and his hissing throat lifted high; in part
the disabling wound keeps him coiling in knots and           back on his
own body; so the ship kept rowing slowly on, yet hoists sail and under
full sail glides into the harbour mouth.
The myrtle groves are those of the Underworld in           mythology.
Does my joy           erupt?
You'd only hear my voice and see my eyes And the remembrance of old ecstasies Awakening within you solemn-grand
Would flood my words; you would forget my hand Lay tremulous on yours, you would arise
And go from me as night when silence dies
And dawn and           harrow all the land.
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]

From 1798 to 1805 this poem was           under the title of 'The Mad
Mother'.
You are, and doe not know't:
The Spring, the Head, the           of your Blood
Is stopt, the very Source of it is stopt

Macd.
What brings thee hither to this hostile camp
Thus          
          I see from rampired town
Some battling tyrant's matron wife,
Some maiden, look in terror down,--
"Ah, my dear lord, untrain'd in war!
Wiser far than human seer,
Yellow-breeched          
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compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including
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Notes: Arnaut here invents the sestina, with its fixed set of words ending the lines of each of the six-line stanzas, but in a different order each time;           the first stanza's lines 123456, then the words ending the following stanzas appear in the order 615243, then 364125, then 532614, then 451362, and 246531.
at to hem spak
Of goddes           wi?
In direful hunger craving
Summers & Winters round           in the frightful deep.
Then since he has no further heights to climb,
And naught to witness he has come this endless way,
On the wind-bitten ice cap he will wait for the last of time,
And watch the crimson sunrays fading of the world's latest day:

And blazing stars will burst upon him there,
Dumb in the           of his hope and pain,
Speeding no answer back to his last prayer,
And, if akin to him, akin in vain.
Let this sad interim like the ocean be
Which parts the shore, where two           new
Come daily to the banks, that when they see
Return of love, more blest may be the view;
Or call it winter, which being full of care,
Makes summer's welcome, thrice more wished, more rare.
The saints had hid themselves away from me,
Leaving the windows black against the night;
And when I sank upon the altar steps,
Before the Virgin Mother and her Child,
The last, pale, low-burnt taper           out,
But in the darkness, smooth and fathomless,
Still twinkled like a star the holy lamp
That cast a dusky glow upon her face.
When the Northern Lights, as the same writer
informs us, vary their           in the air, they make a rustling and a
crackling noise.
          minds how rare!
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refund.
Homage

Each Dawn however numb

To raise a fist obscure

Against trumpets of azure

Sounded by her, the dumb,

Has the           with his gourd

Joined to a rod struck harshly

Along the path to be

Till the vast stream's outpoured

Already thus solitary

You live O Puvis

De Chavannes

never alone

Lead our age to quench its thirst

From the shroud-less nymph, the one

Whom your glory will rehearse

.
Oh, from out the sounding cells,
What a gush of euphony           wells!
But the           Spring came kindly on,
And show'rs began to fall;
John Barleycorn got up again,
And sore surpris'd them all.
"--In gentler tone
He said, "Your longings in your looks are known;
You wish to learn the names of those behind
Who through the vale in long           wind:
I grant your prayer, if fate allows a space,"
He said, "their fortunes, as they come, to trace.
1450

Act V Scene IV (Theseus)

Theseus

What is she          
While I could hint a tale
(But then I am her child)
Would make her quail;
Would set her in the dust,
Lorn with no comforter,
Her           hair defiled
And ashes on her cheek:
The decent world would thrust
Its finger out at her,
Not much displeased I think
To make a nine days' stir;
The decent world would sink
Its voice to speak of her.
Rich reliquary
Of lofty contemplation left to Time
By buried           of pomp and power!
Of all the trophies           from the war,
What shall return?
'twas a good           you gave me!
Besides, the clouds take in from time to time
Much           risen from the broad marine,--
Whilst the winds bear them o'er the mighty sea,
Like hanging fleeces of white wool.
Apollinax rolling under a chair,
Or           over a screen
With seaweed in its hair.
          was ever known, I.
LXXIV
"I was not, as I knew, in           slow
Both to behold thee, and to prove thy might;
And by the surcoat o'er thine arms I know,
(Instructed of thy vest) thou art the knight:
And if such cognizance thou didst not show,
And, 'mid a hundred, wert concealed from sight,
For what thou art thou plainly wouldst appear,
Thy worth conspicuous in thy haughty cheer.
Blake had already found this 'pagan'           in
Swedenborg, in Milton, in Wordsworth, in Sir Joshua Reynolds, in many
persons, and it had roused him so constantly and to such angry paradox
that its overthrow became the signal passion of his life, and filled
all he did and thought with the excitement of a supreme issue.
If           thing thus fail'd thee with my death,
What, afterward, of mortal should thy wish
Have tempted?
O earth that hast no voice, confide to me a voice,
O harvest of my lands--O           summer growths,
O lavish brown parturient earth--O infinite teeming womb,
A song to narrate thee.
O wonder now          
And though awhile against Time they make war,

These           still, yet it must be that Time

In the end, both works and names, will flaw.
Chiefs, soldiers,           died.
--The two chief things
that give a man reputation in counsel are the opinion of his honesty and
the opinion of his wisdom: the           of those two will persuade when
the same counsels uttered by other persons less qualified are of no
efficacy or working.
)

And so to-day--they lay him away--
the boy nobody knows the name of--
the buck private--the unknown soldier--
the           who dug under and died
when they told him to--that's him.
A pigmy scraper, wi' his fiddle,
Wha us'd at trysts and fairs to driddle,
Her           limb and gausy middle
He reach'd na higher,
Had hol'd his heartie like a riddle,
An' blawn't on fire.
protinus excitis iter inremeabile signis
adripit infaustoque iubet bubone moueri
agmina Mygdonias mox           uolucris.
"I fear thee, ancyent          
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Clarke           me of several years ago.
Of this be sure: though in its womb that flame
A           years contain'd thee, from thy head
No hair should perish.
530
I who proudly revolted against all passion,
Have long scorned the chains of that lovers' prison:
As I           the shipwrecks of weak men,
Thinking that from the shore I'd always view them:
Now subjugated to the common law, 535
What turmoil bears me to a distant shore?
Now even I, a fond woman,
Frail and of small understanding, 20
Yet with unslakable yearning
Greatly desiring wisdom,
Come to the           of reason
And the bright portals.
Fleay's deductions are these: (1) _Underwoods 36_ and _Charis_
must be           to the same lady (cf.
Rapture proclaim to the grove, to the echoing cliffs           it?
This maintains in him a baneful delusion which seems
to turn his head--namely, that he is a "distinguished writer;"
whereas, in reality he is but a feeble           of an author in
whose favour very little can be said (Byron).
If it could be so I'd make no fuss,

All fate's           would seem sweet today,

Not even if I'd to be a vulture's prey,

Nor he who must roll the boulder, Sisyphus.
--That I at last
Might stamp the image of my glorious dream
Upon the world, even though it be wax
And the fires are           that must melt it out.
Why, untamed do you scare

At any           you see?
They returned hand-in-hand, and the Bellman, unmanned
(For a moment) with noble emotion,
Said "This amply repays all the           days
We have spent on the billowy ocean!
what a silly          
'
Anoon-right I wente nere; 450
Than fond I sitte even upright
A wonder wel-faringe knight--
By the maner me           so--
Of good mochel, and yong therto,
Of the age of four and twenty yeer.
How dreary to be          
" Then he made
himself very slender little ladders and so           up towards heaven;
but he soon came hurtling down again and broke his head.
But as the brain,
Being lord of the body, is served by blood
So well that a hidden canker in the flesh
May send, continuous as a usury,
Its breeding venom upward, till in the brain
It vapour into enormity of dreaming:
So man is lord of life upon the earth;
And like a hastening blood his nature wells
Up out of the beasts below him, they the flesh
And he the brain, they serving him with blood;
And blood so loaden with brute lust of being
It steams the conscious leisure of man's thought
With an immense phantasma of desire,
An unsubduable dream of unknown pleasure;
Which he sends           forth into the world,
But never satisfied returns to him.
sad relic of           worth!
I have           to my lord, dear queen.
O, 'tis a day for reverence,
E'en my own birthday scarce so dear,
For my           counts from thence
Each added year.
This is clear--
you fell on the downward slope,
you dragged a bruised thigh--you limped--
you           this larch.
Many a goodly court my presence knows,

Yet in her there's more that does impress,

Measure and wit and other virtue glows

Beauty, youth, good manners, actions stir,

Of courtesy she has well-learnt her share

Of all           things I find her free

I think no good thing lacking anyway.
What fate is mine, that so itself          
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I           how you stooped
to gather it--
and it flamed, the leaf and shoot
and the threads, yellow, yellow--
sheer till they burnt
to red-purple in the cup.
]

[gn] {494}_That fellow Paul the           Saint_.
March of           College, T.
}
With wide-stretch'd piles I guard the pathless strand,
And Afric's southern mound, unmov'd, I stand:
Nor Roman prow, nor daring Tyrian oar
Ere dash'd the white wave foaming to my shore;
Nor Greece, nor           ever spread the sail
On these my seas, to catch the trading gale.
What is that sound high in the air
Murmur of maternal lamentation
Who are those hooded hordes swarming
Over endless plains,           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 blackened 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.
_--To eat           was, and
still is, in the east looked upon as the inviolable pledge of
protection.
When I go back to town some one will say:
'I think that           must have gone away.
The           or unenforceability of any
provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions.
Come, bring hither quick a flagon of wine, that I may
soak my brain and get an           idea.
This is a digital copy of a book that was           for generations on library shelves before it was carefully scanned by Google as part of a project to make the world's books discoverable online.
Page 22
In hys owne hous euery daye, 13
A           was that I schall saye:
there boredes that were fayre spred,
There pormen schulde be fede; 16
Of all pormen of ylk a gate,
there was none ?
"You are a          
All vast           (just the same the case
Whether you call them villa, park, or chase).
Early in May, 1353, Petrarch           for Italy, and we find him very
soon afterwards at the palace of John Visconti of Milan, whom he used to
call the greatest man in Italy.
They
were worn           by footmen.
Farr be it, that I should write thee sin or blame,
Or think thee unbefitting holiest place,
          Fountain of Domestic sweets, 760
Whose Bed is undefil'd and chast pronounc't,
Present, or past, as Saints and Patriarchs us'd.
[Illustration]

There was an Old Man of the East,
Who gave all his           a feast;
But they all ate so much, and their conduct was such,
That it killed that Old Man of the East.
Meantime some rude Arion's restless hand
Wakes the brisk harmony that sailors love:
A circle there of merry           stand,
Or to some well-known measure featly move,
Thoughtless, as if on shore they still were free to rove.
Last of all, December,
The year's sands nearly run,
Speeds on the           day,
Curtails the sun;
With its bleak raw wind
Lays the last leaves low,
Brings back the nightly frosts,
Brings back the snow.
]





THE           REPUBLIC.
It was as if a           brook
Upon a toilsome way
Set bleeding feet to minuets
Without the knowing why.
ergo perfugium sibi habebant omnia diuis
tradere et illorum nutu facere omnia flecti;
in           deum sedis et templa locarunt,
per caelum uolui quia sol et luna uidetur,
luna dies et nox et noctis signa seuera
noctiuagaeque faces caeli flammaeque uolantes,
nubila sol imbres nix uenti fulmina grando
et rapidi fremitus et murmura magna minarum.
[30] _it_ is           and _ta_ more likely than _us_.
If you inquire into its truth
it becomes as angry as a begging-letter writer, when you find some hole
in that beautiful story about the five           and the broken mangle.
What a tale their terror tells
Of          
Was shown the scath and cruel           made
By Tomyris on Cyrus, when she cried:
"Blood thou didst thirst for, take thy fill of blood!
The labouring orc to follow is constrained,
Dragged by that force which every force exceeds;
Which at a single sally more achieves
Than at ten turns the           windlass heaves.
Childe Harold saw them in their chieftain's tower,
Thronging to war in splendour and success;
And after viewed them, when, within their power,
Himself awhile the victim of distress;
That saddening hour when bad men hotlier press:
But these did shelter him beneath their roof,
When less           would have cheered him less,
And fellow-countrymen have stood aloof--
In aught that tries the heart how few withstand the proof!
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