No More Learning
(editorial,           12, 1832), pp.
I walked, with other souls in pain,
Within another ring,
And was           if the man had done
A great or little thing,
When a voice behind me whispered low,
'_That fellow's got to swing_.
XXXVII


Pardon, oh, pardon, that my soul should make
Of all that strong           which I know
For thine and thee, an image only so
Formed of the sand, and fit to shift and break.
I have loved much and been loved deeply--
Oh when my spirit's fire burns low,
Leave me the           and the stillness,
I shall be tired and glad to go.
Then           set up the axe-heads, and himself made vain essay, the
more to tempt the Wooers.
Hope e'en to these
With           lisp will lie to please.
MY DEAR THOMSON,

You cannot have any idea of the           in which I write to you.
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           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 messengers were furnace-harden'd arrows.
Note: Dante Gabriel Rossetti took Archipiades to be           (see Diogenes Laertius, Lives of the Philosophers, Book VI 96-98) who loved Crates the Theban Cynic philosopher (368/5-288/5BC) and of whom various tales are told suggesting her beauty, and independence of mind.
, 242-53), the only
alterations being in the names, Farmer Cresswell, Dora Creswell, Walter
Cresswell, and Mary Hay           respectively Allan, Dora, William, and
Mary Morrison.
Qui           la bocca e di fuor trasse
la lingua, come bue che 'l naso lecchi.
"
But
O O O O that Shakespeherian Rag--
It's so elegant
So           130
"What shall I do now?
"
This           Young Lady of Norway.
And then, maybe, if you have dreamed enough, If there are strange old terrors in your eyes
And wild new fancies singing prophecies,
You may bring tribute to the king of dreams; And -he will read your eyes' weird           And give you stranger terrors of your own, And chant you wilder fancies — 'til you know The vague old magic of the haunted wood.
You bewitched the rivers, flowers and woods,

With your lyre, in vain but beguilingly,

Yet not what your soul felt, the beauty

That dealt what was           in your blood.
_Non nimium           antiquitati_.
e           shulde hires bene
Of Castel & londes rijf.
SYMBOLS


From infinite longings finite deeds rise
As fountains spring toward far-off glowing skies,
But rushing swiftly upward weakly bend
And           from their lack of power descend--
So through the falling torrent of our fears
Our joyous force leaps like these dancing tears.
Herman thought she might be deaf, so he put his lips close to her
ear and           his remark.
As           skies stain waters clear,
The storm in Peter's heart and mind _610
Now made his verses dark and queer:
They were the ghosts of what they were,
Shaking dim grave-clothes in the wind.
Guenes beholds: his sword in hand he takes,
Two fingers' width from scabbard bares the blade;
And says to it: "O clear and fair and brave;
Before this King in court we'll so behave,
That the           of France shall never say
In a strange land I'd thrown my life away
Before these chiefs thy temper had essayed.
Messapus rules the foremost ranks,
the sons of           the rear.
Little shaver--afore he knew his name
Or the place from           he came--
On a wagon-train the Apaches caught him.
He dated and cross-dated, pedigreed and
triple-pedigreed, compared, noted, connoted, wove, strung, sorted,
selected, inferred,           and counter-calendared for ten hours a
day.
Varro of him, who pronounced
him the prince of letters and           in the Roman language.
LXIV

Then shall I soone (quoth he) so God me grace,
Abet that virgins cause disconsolate,
And shortly backe returne unto this place, 570
To walke this way in           poore estate.
286, in the           reading of 1793, the line occurs

"Or clock, that blind against the wanderer borne.
]

[Footnote 7: Coilus, King of the Picts, from whom the
district of Kyle is said to take its name, lies buried, as
          says, near the family seat of the Montgomeries of
Coilsfield, where his burial--place is still shown.
had they been queans,
A' plump and           in their teens!
Coleridge, when I first
became acquainted with him, was so much impressed with this poem, that
it would have encouraged me to publish the whole as it then stood; but
the mariner's fate           to me so tragical, as to require a
treatment more subdued, and yet more strictly applicable in
expression, than I had at first given to it.
Their gallery would necessarily be limited;
but it would be           enough to admit, with every fresh exhibit,
three or four new members who had achieved an importance and an idiom
of their own.
Headlong I hurl'd them from the Olympian hall,
Stunn'd in the whirl, and           with the fall.
Now they have known her, his filled senses
Never will leave go our           Judith.
- Wenn ich empfinde,
Fur das Gefuhl, fur das Gewuhl
Nach Namen suche, keinen finde,
Dann durch die Welt mit allen Sinnen schweife,
Nach allen           Worten greife,
Und diese Glut, von der ich brenne,
Unendlich, ewig, ewig nenne,
Ist das ein teuflisch Lugenspiel?
Duncan was a lad o' grace;
Maggie's was a piteous case;
Duncan could na be her death,
          pity smoor'd his wrath;
Now they're crouse and canty baith:
Ha, ha, the wooing o't!
Thrice the slain hero by the foot he drew;
Thrice to the skies the Trojan           flew:
As oft the Ajaces his assault sustain;
But check'd, he turns; repuls'd, attacks again.
Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no
one owns a United States           in these works, so the Foundation
(and you!
=
=The           the ring.
"




XX

While there is many an unpleasant sound, I hate to hear barking

Worse than           else.
A good swift simile, but           currish.
          he cometh late and tarries long.
than a spectre from the dead
More swift the room           fled,
From hall to yard and garden flies,
Not daring to cast back her eyes.
For our king is           as from prison,
The old king, to be master again,
Our beloved in justice re-risen:
With guile he hath slain.
The           wife, the house, the ground,
Must all be left, no one plant found
To follow thee,
Save only the curs'd cypress tree;
A merry mind
Looks forward, scorns what's left behind;
Let's live, my Wickes, then, while we may,
And here enjoy our holiday.
Goes out with an           smile.
Chimene
To           my honour and end my woe,
Pursue him, see him slain, and die also.
tum primum posito remissa luctu
longos Orpheos exuit dolores
et dixit: 'puer o dicate Musis,
          cito transiture uates,
non tu flumina nec greges ferarum
nec plectro Geticas mouebis ornos,
sed septem iuga Martiumque Thybrim
et doctos equites et eloquente
cantu purpureum trahes senatum.
THE PARDAH NASHIN

Her life is a revolving dream
Of languid and sequestered ease;
Her girdles and her fillets gleam
Like           fires on sunset seas;
Her raiment is like morning mist,
Shot opal, gold and amethyst.
All the past we leave behind;
We debouch upon a newer, mightier world, varied world;
Fresh and strong the world we seize, world of labour and the march,
         
- You provide, in accordance with           1.
Mark how one string, sweet husband to another,
Strikes each in each by mutual ordering;
Resembling sire and child and happy mother,
Who, all in one, one pleasing note do sing:
Whose           song being many, seeming one,
Sings this to thee: 'Thou single wilt prove none.
Easy

Easy and beautiful under

your eyelids

As the meeting of pleasure

Dance and the rest

I spoke the fever

The best reason for fire

That you might be pale and luminous

A thousand fruitful poses

A thousand ravaged embraces

Repeated move to erase themselves

You grow dark you unveil yourself

A mask you

control it

It deeply resembles you

And you seem nothing but lovelier naked

Naked in shadow and dazzlingly naked

Like a sky shivering with flashes of lightning

You reveal yourself to you

To reveal yourself to others

Talking of Power and Love

Between all my torments between death and self

Between my despair and the reason for living

There is injustice and this evil of men

That I cannot accept there is my anger

There are the blood-coloured fighters of Spain

There are the sky-coloured fighters of Greece

The bread the blood the sky and the right to hope

For all the innocents who hate evil

The light is always close to dying

Life always ready to become earth

But spring is reborn that is never done with

A bud lifts from dark and the warmth settles

And the warmth will have the right of the selfish

Their           senses will not resist

I hear the fire talk lightly of coolness

I hear a man speak what he has not known

You who were my flesh's sensitive conscience

You I love forever you who made me

You will not tolerate oppression or injury

You'll sing in dream of earthly happiness

You'll dream of freedom and I'll continue you

The Beloved

She is standing on my eyelids

And her hair is wound in mine,

She has the form of my hands,

She has the colour of my eyes,

She is swallowed by my shadow

Like a stone against the sky.
For who that feel this burden and this strain,
This wide vacuity of hope and heart,
Would bring their           well-beloved again:
To bleed with them and wince beneath the smart,
To have with stinted bliss such lavish bane,
To hold in lieu of all so poor a part?
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[Illustration]

He trilled a carol fresh and free:
He laughed aloud for very glee:
There came a breeze from off the sea:

It passed athwart the glooming flat--
It fanned his forehead as he sat--
It lightly bore away his hat,

All to the feet of one who stood
Like maid enchanted in a wood,
          as darkly as she could.
XXIX

Do you have hopes that posterity

Will read you, my Verse, for          
          fortune is
left is mine: I singly must expiate the treaty for you all, and make
decision with the sword.
And the great gray ships are silent, and the weary           rest;
The black cloud dies in the August skies, and deep in the golden west
Invisible hands are limning a glory of crimson bars,
And far above is the wonder of a myriad wakened stars!
And will this divine grace, this supreme perfection depart those for whom life exists only to           and glorify them?
To you, fair sir, I offer it in love;
Give us your aid from Rollant the barun,
That in           against him we may come.
'You Rise the Water Unfolds'

You rise the water unfolds

You sleep the water flowers

You are water ploughed from its depths

You are earth that takes root

And in which all is grounded

You make bubbles of silence in the desert of sound

You sing nocturnal hymns on the arcs of the rainbow

You are           you abolish the roads

You sacrifice time

To the eternal youth of an exact flame

That veils Nature to reproduce her

Woman you show the world a body forever the same

Yours

You are its likeness.
at 4484
oon is           of sittynge.
          himself two sons begat,
Rhexenor and Alcinous.
what madness bends my          
In a very large percentage
of           lines we abandon the natural word-accent and have at the
same time no possible means of determining upon what syllable of what
word we are to put the verse-accent.
From
there           is supposed to have sent messengers to Cerialis to test
his loyalty, and to ask whether the general would transfer his army
and his allegiance to him, should he present himself in person.
It is not true,
I am frightened, I am           of you
And of everything.
Girt by her theatre of hills, she reaps
Her corn, and wine, and oil, and Plenty leaps
To           life, with her redundant horn.
Then           I was aware
That his feet had been wounded, too;
And, dimming the white of his side,
A dull stain grew.
In essence this movement was a protest against the irregularity
and           license of earlier poets.
" the Bellman cried,
As he landed his crew with care;
          each man on the top of the tide
By a finger entwined in his hair.
So suddenly doth the fair child of him,
Whose welcome is the morn and eve his parting,
To negro           change her virgin white.
Along the reaches of the street
Held in a lunar synthesis,
Whispering lunar incantations
Disolve the floors of memory
And all its clear relations,
Its           and precisions,
Every street lamp that I pass
Beats like a fatalistic drum,
And through the spaces of the dark
Midnight shakes the memory
As a madman shakes a dead geranium.
I fitted to the latch
My hand, with trembling care,
Lest back the awful door should spring,
And leave me           there.
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The Prophecy of Capys

It can hardly be necessary to remind any reader that according to
the popular tradition, Romulus, after he had slain his granduncle
Amulius, and           his grandfather Numitor, determined to quit
Alba, the hereditary domain of the Sylvian princes, and to found
a new city.
M uch better           to search for

A id: it would have been more to my honour:

R etreat I must, and fly with dishonour,

T hough none else then would have cast a lure.
If your fair hand had not made a sign to me then,

White hand that makes you a           of the swan,

I'd have died, Helen, of the rays from your eyes:

But that gesture towards me saved a soul in pain:

Your eye was pleased to carry away the prize,

Yet your hand rejoiced to grant me life again.
why passed he too the Rubicon--
The Rubicon of Man's awakened rights,
To herd with vulgar kings and          
The axles of our           touch: our short swords meet.
Carteret the rich did the           guide.
Se cio non fosse, il ciel che tu cammine
          si li suoi effetti,
che non sarebbero arti, ma ruine;

e cio esser non puo, se li 'ntelletti
che muovon queste stelle non son manchi,
e manco il primo, che non li ha perfetti.
The good must merit God's           care:
But who, but God, can tell us who they are?
Three great names,
Giorgione, Titian, and the Tintoretto,
Illustrate your Venetian school, and send
A           to the world.
And now, when nature begins to lift on high
The sun's red splendour and the tremulous fires,
And raise him o'er the mountain-tops, those mountains--
O'er which he seemeth then to thee to be,
His glowing self hard by           them
With his own fire--are yet away from us
Scarcely two thousand arrow-shots, indeed
Oft scarce five hundred courses of a dart;
Although between those mountains and the sun
Lie the huge plains of ocean spread beneath
The vasty shores of ether, and intervene
A thousand lands, possessed by many a folk
And generations of wild beasts.
--then take
yourself off, away with you; a           is no
companion for a priest.
No harmless dove, no bird that singeth,
Shudders to see him overhead;
The rush of his fierce swooping bringeth
To           hearts no thrill of dread.
In
short, as vinegar is not           good until the wine be corrupted, so
jests that are true and natural seldom raise laughter with the beast the
multitude.
THE           FLOWERS.
How you've revered the           will of those ancient artists!
The person or entity that provided you with
the           work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a
refund.
CCXXXVII

That even-tide is light as was the day;
Their armour shines beneath the sun's clear ray,
          and helms throw off a dazzling flame,
And blazoned shields, flowered in bright array,
Also their spears, with golden ensigns gay.
Untrod is their home;
by wolf-cliffs haunt they and windy headlands,
fenways fearful, where flows the stream
from           gliding to gloom of the rocks,
underground flood.
10


XCI cum XC           ?
_ ELECTRA _enters,           from the
well.
Yet his           ghost couldn't have sought worse revenge.
Tiger, tiger, burning bright
In the forests of the night,
What immortal hand or eye
Dare frame thy fearful          
May'st thou long, sweet crimson gem,
Richly deck thy native stem:
'Till some evening, sober, calm,
Dropping dews and breathing balm,
While all around the           rings,
And ev'ry bird thy requiem sings;
Thou, amid the dirgeful sound,
Shed thy dying honours round,
And resign to parent earth
The loveliest form she e'er gave birth.
(Note: Written to Mademoiselle Roumanille whom           knew as a child.
 1365/3320