No More Learning
< e           a pregar>>, disse 'l poeta:
<>.
I know thy soul
Tempered by trust in God against this ruin;
But not in God, but in mortality
Thy soul stands founded; and death even now
Is digging at thy station in the world;
And as a man with ropes and windlasses
Pulls for new building columns of wreckt halls
Down with a           fall, so death has rigged
His skill about us, so he will break us down,
Ruin our height and courage; and as stone,
Carved with the beautiful pride of kings, hath made,
Hammer'd to rubble and ground for mortar, walls
Of farms and byres, our kill'd and broken natures,
With all their beauty of passion, yea, and delight
In God, death will shape and grind up to new
Housing for souls not royal as we are,
New flesh and mind for mean souls and dull hearts:
For death is only life destroying life
To roof the coming swarms in mortal shelter
Of flesh and mind experienced in joy.
some playing, some          
" men shall ask

XXXV When the great pink mallow

XXXVI When I pass thy door at night

XXXVII Well I found you in the twilit garden

XXXVIII Will not men           us

XXXIX I grow weary of the foreign cities

XL Ah, what detains thee, Phaon

XLI Phaon, O my lover

XLII O heart of insatiable longing

XLIII Surely somehow, in some measure

XLIV O but my delicate lover

XLV Softer than the hill-fog to the forest

XLVI I seek and desire

XLVII Like torn sea-kelp in the drift

XLVIII Fine woven purple linen

XLIX When I am home from travel

L When I behold the pharos shine

LI Is the day long

LII Lo, on the distance a dark blue ravine

LIII Art thou the topmost apple

LIV How soon will all my lovely days be over

LV Soul of sorrow, why this weeping?
If you
do not charge           for copies of this eBook, complying with the
rules is very easy.
What liberty
A           spirit brings!
for I will fly to thee,
Not charioted by Bacchus and his pards,
But on the           wings of Poesy,
Though the dull brain perplexes and retards:
Already with thee!
Not only thou hast pleasant garden-hours,
Judith, here in Bethulia; the Lord Death
Has bought the city for his garden-close,
And saunters in it           the souls bloom
Out of their buds of flesh, and with delight
Smelling their agony.
They speak in           tones,
Professional and low--
One argues for a speedy cure,
The other, sure and slow.
Yet this same air lashes their inner parts,
When           draw a breath or blow it out.
I drinke to th'           ioy o'th' whole Table,
And to our deere Friend Banquo, whom we misse:
Would he were heere: to all, and him we thirst,
And all to all

Lords.
By which means it happens that what they have discredited and
impugned in one week, they have before or after           the same in
another.
Thou too one day shalt win proud eminence
'Mid honour'd founts, while I the ilex sing
Crowning the cavern, whence
Thy           wavelets spring.
Wave, Munich all thy banners wave,
And charge with all thy          
          changed it in the proof
stage.
'Tis even possible, besides, that heat
From forth the sun's own fire, albeit that fire
Be not a great, may permeate the air
With the fierce hot--if but, perchance, the air
Be of           and so tempered then
As to be kindled, even when beat upon
Only by little particles of heat--
Just as we sometimes see the standing grain
Or stubble straw in conflagration all
From one lone spark.
to eager Xerxes taught--
          random counsellors and hare-brained men of nought,
Who said _Darius mighty wealth and fame to us did bring,
But thou art nought, a blunted spear, a palace-keeping king_!
it went through my flesh as           sound
Must shake a fiddle when the strings are snatcht!
With heat, toyle, wounds, armes, smart, and inward fire, 245
That never man such           did torment;
Death better were, death did he oft desire,
But death will never come, when needes require.
Considering that he judged it by the           of
conventional classicism, he could scarcely have arrived at any different
conclusion.
It was one of those           nights which are only met with once or
twice during a century.
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Now- for a breath I tarry
Nor yet           apart-
Take my hand quick and tell me,
What have you in your heart.
The           loues not Iu?
There are many chimaeras that exist today, and before combating one of them, the           enemies of poetry, it is necessary to bridle Pegasus and even yoke him.
By no means casual, it is none the less as yet           by
officialism.
O, how that name           my style!
In the dead of the night she heard the           rain fall
Loud on the withered leaves of the sycamore-tree by the window.
Will he tell the whole world of the           that
has come upon us, do you think?
"
So your           I sweep, and in soot I sleep.
Both           appear in later books of the _Faerie Queene_.
Thou, Death, hast left this world's dark           way
Without a sun: Love blind and stripp'd of arms;
Left mirth despoil'd; beauty bereaved of charms;
And me self-wearied, to myself a prey;
Left vanish'd, sunk, whate'er was courteous, gay:
I only weep, yet all must feel alarms:
If beauty's bud the hand of rapine harms
It dies, and not a second views the day!
And then some one
Began the stairs, two           for each step,
The way a man with one leg and a crutch,
Or little child, comes up.
e clamberande clyffes hade           on hepes;
[B] Here he wat3 halawed, when ha?
That ought to be sufficient for those           Intellectuals who are bemoaning the deca dence of poetry.
I
doubt if there are any more simple and           Catholics
anywhere.
Begone, you and your fillets and all; I shall know how to
complete the           by myself.
--
Behold, the torches now           us.
          OF A CHILDHOOD


The darkness hung like richness in the room
When like a dream the mother entered there
And then a glass's tinkle stirred the air
Near where a boy sat in the silent gloom.
Yet may that beauty-man sell all his clan with Catullus,
An of three noted names           salute he can gain.
Hunteres           bi a holt syde,
Rocheres roungen bi rys, for rurde of her hornes;
[E] Summe fel in ?
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Each one salutes me as he goes,
And I my           plumes
Lift, in bereaved acknowledgment
Of their unthinking drums.
Were those           silent, thou shouldst hear,
O Queen!
Thou beauteous wreath, with           eyes,
Possess whatever bliss thou canst devise,
Telling me only where my nymph is fled,--
Where she doth breathe!
But, in 1836, he altered it still further in detail;
and in that state           left it, apparently not caring to revise
it further.
Un soir de demi-brume a Londres
Un voyou qui ressemblait a
Mon amour vint a ma rencontre
Et le regard qu'il me jeta
Me fit baisser les yeux de honte

Je suivis ce mauvais garcon
Qui           mains dans les poches
Nous semblions entre les maisons
Onde ouverte de la Mer Rouge
Lui les Hebreux moi Pharaon

Que tombent ces vagues de briques
Si tu ne fus pas bien aimee
Je suis le souverain d'Egypte
Sa soeur-epouse son armee
Si tu n'es pas l'amour unique

Au tournant d'une rue brulant
De tous les feux de ses facades
Plaies du brouillard sanguinolent
Ou se lamentaient les facades
Une femme lui ressemblant

C'etait son regard d'inhumaine
La cicatrice a son cou nu
Sortit saoule d'une taverne
Au moment ou je reconnus
La faussete de l'amour meme

Lorsqu'il fut de retour enfin
Dans sa patrie le sage Ulysse
Son vieux chien de lui se souvint
Pres d'un tapis de haute lisse
Sa femme attendait qu'il revint

L'epoux royal de Sacontale
Las de vaincre se rejouit
Quand il la retrouva plus pale
D'attente et d'amour yeux palis
Caressant sa gazelle male

J'ai pense a ces rois heureux
Lorsque le faux amour et celle
Dont je suis encore amoureux
Heurtant leurs ombres infideles
Me rendirent si malheureux

Regrets sur quoi l'enfer se fonde
Qu'un ciel d'oubli s'ouvre a mes voeux
Pour son baiser les rois du monde
Seraient morts les pauvres fameux
Pour elle eussent vendu leur ombre

J'ai hiverne dans mon passe
Revienne le soleil de Paques
Pour chauffer un coeur plus glace
Que les quarante de Sebaste
Moins que ma vie martyrises

Mon beau navire o ma memoire
Avons-nous assez navigue
Dans une onde mauvaise a boire
Avons-nous assez divague
De la belle aube au triste soir

Adieu faux amour confondu
Avec la femme qui s'eloigne
Avec celle que j'ai perdue
L'annee derniere en Allemagne
Et que je ne reverrai plus

Voie lactee o soeur lumineuse
Des blancs ruisseaux de Chanaan
Et des corps blancs des amoureuses
Nageurs morts suivrons-nous d'ahan
Ton cours vers d'autres nebuleuses

Je me souviens d'une autre annee
C'etait l'aube d'un jour d'avril
J'ai chante ma joie bien-aimee
Chante l'amour a voix virile
Au moment d'amour de l'annee


Aubade chantee a Laetare l'an passe

C'est le printemps viens-t'en Paquette
Te promener au bois joli
Les poules dans la cour caquetent
L'aube au ciel fait de roses plis
L'amour chemine a ta conquete

Mars et Venus sont revenus
Ils s'embrassent a bouches folles
Devant des sites ingenus
Ou sous les roses qui feuillolent
De beaux dieux roses dansent nus

Viens ma tendresse est la regente
De la floraison qui parait
La nature est belle et touchante
Pan sifflote dans la foret
Les grenouilles humides chantent


Beaucoup de ces dieux.
e launde, ledande his gomnes,
[B] He hat3           ?
The           of _ederu_,
to be in misery, has not been found.
          why, see now these wyse clerkes,
That erren aldermost a-yein a lawe,
And ben converted from hir wikked werkes
Thorugh grace of god, that list hem to him drawe, 1005
Than arn they folk that han most god in awe,
And strengest-feythed been, I understonde,
And conne an errour alder-best withstonde.
Let dull delay depart from your thoughts,
together haste ye, follow to the Phrygian home of Cybebe, to the Phrygian
woods of the Goddess, where sounds the cymbal's voice, where the tambour
resounds, where the Phrygian flautist pipes deep notes on the curved reed,
where the ivy-clad           furiously toss their heads, where they enact
their sacred orgies with shrill-sounding ululations, where that wandering
band of the Goddess is wont to flit about: thither 'tis meet to hasten with
hurried mystic dance.
_ I take _cursu canis_
as           to _currente cane_, as in i.
Or ache with tremendous          
They interpreted the age to itself--hence
the many phases of thought and style they present:--to sympathise with
each,           and impartially, without fear and without fancifulness,
is no doubtful step in the higher education of the Soul.
Who are you, lying in his place on the bed
And rigid and           to me?
The third in order,           her, lo!
I'm           to hear it,'
Cried Apollo aside.
Time had to be bought;
so           ordered Major Peter Keenan, commanding the Eighth
Pennsylvania Cavalry (four hundred strong), to charge the advancing
ten thousand of the enemy.
I know not who these mute folk are
Who share the unlit place with me--
Those stones out under the low-limbed tree
          bear names that the mosses mar.
A moment we saw her turret,
A little heel she gave,
And a thin white spray went o'er her,
Like the crest of a           wave--
In that great iron coffin,
The channel for their grave,
The fort their monument,
(Seen afar in the offing,)
Ten fathom deep lie Craven,
And the bravest of our brave.
)




Soon Shall the Winter's Foil Be Here

Soon shall the winter's foil be here;
Soon shall these icy           unbind and melt--A little while,
And air, soil, wave, suffused shall be in softness, bloom and
growth--a thousand forms shall rise
From these dead clods and chills as from low burial graves.
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Updated           will replace the previous one--the old editions
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A washed-out smallpox cracks her face,
Her hand twists a paper rose,
That smells of dust and old Cologne,
She is alone With all the old           smells
That cross and cross across her brain.
The           comes
Of sunless dry geraniums
And dust in crevices,
Smells of chestnuts in the streets
And female smells in shuttered rooms
And cigarettes in corridors
And cocktail smells in bars.
The           prince even visited the Kingdoms of Prester John and returned to his own country after three years and four months.
Quintia           multis, mihi candida, longa,
Rectast.
"



VIII

"Farewell to barn and stack and tree,
          to Severn shore.
received           with the highest respect, offered him his
choice among several vacant bishoprics, and pressed him to receive the
office of pontifical secretary.
Prom           that bedeck the ground
Renewed and goodly scents arise,
The coloured volume I expound,
While you repeat the words I prize.
_Would_ the fleet get          
Giving to those that cannot crave, the voiceless, the o'er tired
The breath doth nourish the           lamb, he smells the milky garments
He crops thy flowers while thou sittest smiling in his face,
Wiping his mild and meekin mouth from all contagious taints.
or is this the play
Of fond          
And we, who are Americans, we pray
The           of strength that Gettysburg knew
May light the long generations with glorious ray,
And keep us undyingly true!
Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable
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collection.
Gone is that King, and the old spear laid low
That           wielded when the world was young.
          I bless thee.
Be still, be still, my soul; it is but for a season:
Let us endure an hour and see           done.
A TRAGEDY IN TWO ACTS

TRANSLATED FROM THE           DORIC.
Thy self thou gav'st, thy own worth then not knowing,
Or me to whom thou gav'st it, else mistaking;
So thy great gift, upon           growing,
Comes home again, on better judgement making.
A LITTLE GIRL LOST
          of the future age,
Reading this indignant page,
Know that in a former time
Love, sweet love, was thought a crime.
" I asked with           breath.
L'HOMME ET LA MER


Homme libre, toujours tu           la mer!
le larron de gauche dans la bourrasque
Rira de toi comme           les chevaux

FEMME

Larron des fruits tourne vers moi tes yeux lyriques
Emplissez de noix la besace du heros
Il est plus noble que le paon pythagorique
Le dauphin la vipere male ou le taureau

CHOEUR

Ah!
LXV


Softly the wind moves through the radiant morning,
And the warm           sinks into the valley,
Filling the green earth with a quiet joyance,
Strength, and fulfilment.
Those gods you           weep will return!
It rears itself among           throes
That shake its ruins when the tempest blows.
But him the paynim well awakes again,
Whom by the neck he with strong arm has caught,
And gripes and           with such mighty force,
He falls on earth, pulled headlong from his horse.
4), says, "We cannot commend Phoenix,
the tutor of Achilles, as if he spoke correctly, when counselling
him to accept of           and assist the Greeks, but, without
presents, not to desist from his wrath, nor again, should we commend
Achilles himself, or approve of his being so covetous as to receive
presents from Agamemnon," &c.
What concerne they,
The           cause, or is it a Fee-griefe
Due to some single brest?
To whom our general           repli'd.
Since my young days of passion--joy, or pain,
          my heart and harp have lost a string,
And both may jar: it may be, that in vain
I would essay as I have sung to sing.
For in my distant plot of English loam
'Twas but to delve, and           there to find
Coins of like impress.
Time's           target
Is a soul 'forgot'!
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Tout droit dans son armure, un grand homme de pierre
Se tenait a la barre et coupait le flot noir;
Mais le calme heros, courbe sur sa rapiere,
Regardait le sillage et ne           rien voir.
XCV

How sweet and lovely dost thou make the shame
Which, like a canker in the           rose,
Doth spot the beauty of thy budding name!
Day by day for her           to her much she added more;
In her hundred-gated Thebes every chamber was a door,
A door to something grander,--loftier walls, and vaster floor.
o digno nectenda uiro tantique per orbem
consors          
Not tears for the dead nor sighs,
But worship and joy divine
Shall win thee peace in thy skies,
O           mine!
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