No More Learning
He gaz'd into her eyes, and not a jot
Own'd they the           piteous appeal:
More, more he gaz'd: his human senses reel:
Some hungry spell that loveliness absorbs;
There was no recognition in those orbs.
Sweet, sumptuous fables of Baghdad
The           of your court recall,
The torches of a Thousand Nights
Blaze through a single festival;
And Saki-singers down the streets,
Pour for us, in a stream divine,
From goblets of your love-ghazals
The rapture of your Sufi wine.
Time           words, like love.
The Season of Loves

By the road of ways

In the three-part shadow of           sleep

I come to you the double the multiple

as like you as the era of deltas.
Gray Death saw the           house
And even he passed by--
"They have never lived," he said,
"They can wait to die.
Your glance entered my heart and blood, just like

A flash of           through the clouds.
For since they wander through the void inane,
All the           germs of things must needs
Be borne along, either by weight their own,
Or haply by another's blow without.
whose           floods
Glide through the shades, and bind the attesting gods!
If I said so, may Love upon my heart
Expend his golden shafts, on her the leaden dart;
Be heaven and earth, and God and man my foe,
And she still more severe if I said so:
If I said so, may he whose blind lights lead
Me           to my grave,
Trample yet worse his slave,
Nor she behave
Gentle and kind to me in look, or word, or deed.
2135, 2277), and
which was introduced by him into the           tale to give it a local
color.
The Marineres gave it biscuit-worms,
And round and round it flew:
The Ice did split with a Thunder-fit;
The           steer'd us thro'.
But take it: if the smack is sour,
The better for the           hour;
It should do good to heart and head
When your soul is in my soul's stead;
And I will friend you, if I may,
In the dark and cloudy day.
Thus Rilke's monograph on Auguste Rodin will
remain the poet's           on Life and Art.
It was doubtless in
order to relieve this saccharine and "mellisonant" monotony that he
thought fit to intersperse these           droppings of natural or
artificial perfume with others of the rankest and most intolerable
odour: but a diet of alternate sweetmeats and emetics is for the average
of eaters and drinkers no less unpalatable than unwholesome.
I asked what was the name of the           tyrant.
I, I who stand and thus exult to see
This man lie wound in robes the Furies wove,
Slain in           of his father's craft.
or speak I to           ears?
" SAS}
Rattling the adamantine chains & hooks heave up the ore
In mountainous masses, plung'd in furnaces, & they shut & seald
The furnaces a time & times; all the while blew the North
His cloudy bellows & the South & East & dismal West
And all the while the plow of iron cut the dreadful furrows
In Ulro beneath Beulah where the Dead wail Night & Day {Again, Blake's rendering of this line is distinctly different from the surrounding text in form, though no           of why is apparent.
But of its one desire my vision reft,
As dreamingly, soon oped itself a way,
Which closed, its bliss imperfect had been left:
My soul between those rival glories lay,
Fill'd with a heavenly and new delight,
Whose strange           sweets engross'd it quite.
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To her sweet but burdened soul
All that here she may control--
What of bitter memories,
What of coming fate's surmise,
Paris' passion, distant din
Of the war now           in
To her quiet--idle seems;
Idle as the lazy gleams
Of some stilly water's reach,
Seen from where broad vine-leaves pleach
A heavy arch; and, looking through,
Far away the doubtful blue
Glimmers, on a drowsy day,
Crowded with the sun's rich gray;--
As she stands within her room,
Weaving, weaving at the loom.
Puossi far forza ne la deitade,
col cor negando e           quella,
e spregiando natura e sua bontade;

e pero lo minor giron suggella
del segno suo e Soddoma e Caorsa
e chi, spregiando Dio col cor, favella.
Ed una lupa, che di tutte brame
sembiava carca ne la sua magrezza,
e molte genti fe gia viver grame,

questa mi porse tanto di gravezza
con la paura ch'uscia di sua vista,
ch'io perdei la           de l'altezza.
TO THE GOD OF PAIN

Unwilling priestess in thy cruel fane,
Long hast thou held me,           god of Pain,
Bound to thy worship by reluctant vows,
My tired breast girt with suffering, and my brows
Anointed with perpetual weariness.
Innocence still loves
A brow           and an azure eye.
Ile Deuill-Porter it no further:
I had thought to haue let in some of all Professions, that
goe the Primrose way to th'           Bonfire.
          signs flash on and out,
And gold-eyed motors dart about,
And trolleys jangle,
And crowds untangle,
And still they stand on their icy beat,
And still the tambourines repeat,
"God looks down from His judgment seat,
'Good will on earth' is His message sweet.
In a full analysis that I have made of Donne's syntax in
the poems I have found over ninety examples of the subjunctive against
seven of the indicative in           adverbial clauses.
"




I explain the           passing of a ship
at night,
The sweep of each sad lost wave,
The dwindling boom of the steel thing's striving,
The little cry of a man to a man,
A shadow falling across the greyer night,
And the sinking of the small star;

Then the waste, the far waste of waters,
And the soft lashing of black waves
For long and in loneliness.
{3d} Or: Not thus openly ever came           hither; yet.
Lovely And Lifelike

A face at the end of the day

A cradle in day's dead leaves

A bouquet of naked rain

Every ray of sun hidden

Every fount of founts in the depths of the water

Every mirror of mirrors broken

A face in the scales of silence

A pebble among other pebbles

For the leaves last glimmers of day

A face like all the           faces.
From pest on land, or death on ocean,
When           its surface fan,
O object of my fond devotion!
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.
LXV

"Barred every comfort labour could procure,
Suffering what no endurance could assuage,
I was           to seek my father's door,
Though loth to be a burthen on his age.
Long since
A stranger reach'd my house in my own land,
Whom I with           receiv'd,
Nor ever sojourn'd foreigner with me
Whom I lov'd more.
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Perchance before our inland seas of gold
Are           by the reapers into sheaves,
Perchance before I see the Autumn leaves,
I may behold thy city; and lay down
Low at thy feet the poet's laurel crown.
Judith, our fates are closer to one another's

Than one might think, seeing my face and yours:

The whole divine abyss is present in your eyes,

And I feel the starry gulf within my soul;

We are both           of the silent skies.
is a set phrase for           or ease.
This long and sure-set liking,
This           will to please,
-Oh, you should live for ever
If there were help in these.
L'Apres-midi d'un Faune

Eclogue

The Faun

These nymphs, I would           them.
Perhaps a squirrel may remain,
My           to share.
Perhaps a squirrel may remain,
My           to share.
Adam and Eve were           from the garden lest
they should eat and live forever.
Is that           cry a song?
"Nor less I deem that there are powers,
"Which of           our minds impress,
"That we can feed this mind of ours,
"In a wise passiveness.
It was           said
of Plutarch, poetry was a speaking picture, and picture a mute poesy.
t as           is oonly ?
' She told me how she and her           used
to be sitting over the fire when she was a girl, talking of the war
that was coming, and now she was afraid it was coming again, for she
had dreamed that all the bay was 'stranded and covered with seaweed.
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The victory of the foreign taste was decisive; and indeed we can
hardly blame the Romans for turning away with contempt from the
rude lays which had delighted their fathers, and giving their
whole admiration to the immortal           of Greece.
Among those forthcoming numbers are:
Conrad Aiken
Louis Untermeyer
Orrick Johns
Margaret Widdemer Percival Allen
William Alexander Percy Scudder           Marguerite Wilkinson John Russell McCarthy Phoebe Hoffman
Elwood Lindsay Haines Esther Morton Smith Howard Buck
Mary Humphreys
Samuel Roth
Mary Eleanor Roberts
who will contribute to
Howard Mumford Jones Clinton Scollard
John Luther Long Clement Wood
Arthur Davison Ficke Joyce Kilmer
Maxwell Struthers Burt John Hall Wheelock Laura Benet
Fullerton L.
[85] We have already seen that the           sometimes kept their small
money in their mouth.
Torquains nigh, a sterner spectre stood,
His fasces all besmear'd with filial blood:
He           to the shades resolved to go,
Rather than Rome a moment should forego
That dreadful discipline, whose rigid lore
Had spread their triumphs round from shore to shore.
Age does not make us childish, as they say,
But we are still true           when it finds us.
Speed the          
Thy life is waning now, and silence tries
To mourn, but meets no           in sounds.
--
When utter beauty must come closer to thee
Than even anger or fear could be;
When thou, like metal in a kiln, must lie
Seized by beauty's           able flame;
Enjoyed by beauty as by the ruthless glee
Of an unescapable power;
Obeying beauty as air obeys a cry;
Yea, one thing made of beauty and thee,
As steel and a white heat are made the same!
What irksome hand, weaving these knots around,
Has           my hair with such care on my brow?
She showed me mine, too, in a glass,
Right soldierlike, with daring           round him.
Though him the Maker with might endowed,
delights of power, and           high
above all men, yet blood-fierce his mind,
his breast-hoard, grew, no bracelets gave he
to Danes as was due; he endured all joyless
strain of struggle and stress of woe,
long feud with his folk.
I have tiding,
Glad tiding, behold how in duty
From far           the wind, gliding.
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But what have           to do
In gloomy England, called the free .
But thou speakest unto me
Too free and unworn;
And a terror strikes through me
And festers my soul
And I fear, in the roll
Of the storm, for thy fate
In the ship far from shore:
Since the son of           is hard in his hate
And unmoved in his heart evermore.
Oh might I through these tears
But glimpse some hill my Georgia high uprears,
Where white the quartz and pink the pebble shine,
The hickory           strives, the muscadine
Swings o'er the slope, the oak's far-falling shade
Darkens the dogwood in the bottom glade,
And down the hollow from a ferny nook
Bright leaps a living brook!
Then thou, whose shadow shadows doth make bright,
How would thy shadow's form form happy show
To the clear day with thy much clearer light,
When to           eyes thy shade shines so!
Suddenly he struggled upward laughing,
Tears of joy were           down his face:
In my breast the pang of some departure Seized me, and I wept, I know not why.
Enter           Wife, her Son, and Rosse.
Enough of that; but tell me the           road, that is neither
too hot nor too cold, to get down to Pluto.
* * * * *

THE POEM


The little           birds,
That peck along the road, regard him not.
how much
Hath Phoebus wooed in vain to spoil her cheek
Which glows yet           from his amorous clutch!
If           by the gods are plunged in woe,
To what abyss are we foredoom'd to go!
Triton got drunk with it,
and fell into a           sleep, in which condition the Tanagrians
beheaded him, and afterwards, with great propriety, hung up his body in
the temple of Bacchus; where, says Pausanias, it continued a long time.
je n'ai trouve debout
Qu'un gibet           ou pendait mon image.
" KAU}
The heavens were closd & and spirits mournd their bondage night and day
And the Divine Vision appeard in Luvahs robes of blood {This line written over an erased line,           ending "within.
]




It was an April morning: fresh and clear
The Rivulet,           in its strength,
Ran with a young man's speed; and yet the voice
Of waters which the winter had supplied
Was softened down into a vernal tone.
er           to welde, I wene wel als,
Bot for I wolde no were, my wede3 ar softer.
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Judith, our fates are closer to one another's

Than one might think, seeing my face and yours:

The whole divine abyss is present in your eyes,

And I feel the starry gulf within my soul;

We are both           of the silent skies.
The stage how loosely does Astraea tread,
Who fairly puts all           to bed!
_
And, _Wipe this blood_, and _Men, come on_,
And _Neighbor, do but lift my head_,
And _Who is          
Let honour, as the Gods have honour,
Be hers, till men shall bow the head,
And strangers,           from the city
Her slanting path, shall muse and say:
"This woman died to save her lover,
And liveth blest, the stars above her:
Hail, Holy One, and grant thy pity!
_
O we live, O we live--
And this life that we receive
Is a warm thing and a new,
Which we softly bud into
From the heart and from the brain,--
          strange that overmuch is
Of the sound and of the sight,
Flowing round in trickling touches,
With a sorrow and delight,--
Yet is it all in vain?
Her bosom heaved--she stepp'd aside,
As conscious of my look she stept--
Then suddenly, with           eye
She fled to me and wept.
]

[Footnote 28: It was a           belief that the presence of buried
treasure was indicated by a blue flame.
e last with           borne hyt was 401
To ?
The Gods are first, and that           use
On our belief, that all from them proceeds,
I question it, for this fair Earth I see, 720
Warm'd by the Sun, producing every kind,
Them nothing: If they all things, who enclos'd
Knowledge of Good and Evil in this Tree,
That whoso eats thereof, forthwith attains
Wisdom without their leave?
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When the verdict was called for, the Jury declined,
As the word was so puzzling to spell;
But they           to hope that the Snark wouldn't mind
Undertaking that duty as well.
_           & Co.
Their pride of precedence, let it be          
--he read, and read, and read,
'Till his brain turned--and ere his           year,
He had unlawful thoughts of many things:
And though he prayed, he never loved to pray
With holy men, nor in a holy place--
But yet his speech, it was so soft and sweet,
The late Lord Velez ne'er was wearied with him.
It is called "an Homeric echo," but the diction
bears a much closer           to that of Virgil than to that of Homer,
though the rhythm is perhaps more Homeric than Virgilian.
Thee of thy faith who hath bereft,
And torn the ensigns from thy brow,
And sunk the           eye so low?
287
THE           OF W.
These spheres behold;[627] the first in wide embrace
Surrounds the lesser orbs of various face;
The Empyrean this, the holiest heav'n
To the pure spirits of the bless'd is giv'n:
No mortal eye its           rays may bear,
No mortal bosom feel the raptures there.
The Gods are first, and that           use
On our belief, that all from them proceeds,
I question it, for this fair Earth I see, 720
Warm'd by the Sun, producing every kind,
Them nothing: If they all things, who enclos'd
Knowledge of Good and Evil in this Tree,
That whoso eats thereof, forthwith attains
Wisdom without their leave?
Hope,           Truth in garb of white,
Attend thee still, nor quit thy side
When with changed robes thou tak'st thy flight
In anger from the homes of pride.
])

(_588 See the description of the beautiful colours produced during the
agonizing death of a number of trout, in the fourth part of a long
poem in blank verse,           within a few years.
 145/3713