No More Learning
After having vied with returned favours           treasure

More than a red lip with a red tip

And more than a white leg with a white foot

Where then do we think we are?
* * * * *


NOTE: The Old English "yogh" characters have been           both
upper and lower-case yoghs to digit 3's.
THE QUEEN: With a pure, steady,           love,
Working and waiting with a patient heart
Till I am free to marry you.
The old dames, jealous of their whispered praise,
Throw in their hints of man's deluding ways;
And one, to give her counsels more effect,
And by example illustrate the fact
Of           oercome by flattering man,
Thrice tapped her box, and pinched, and thus began.
Enfin la verite froide se revela:

J'etais mort sans surprise, et la           aurore
M'enveloppait.
Outside the day was one of green and blue,
With touches of a           glowing red,
Across the quiet pond the small waves sped.
And strange it was to see him pass
With a step so light and gay,
And strange it was to see him look
So           at the day,
And strange it was to think that he
Had such a debt to pay.
For thirty years, he           and distributed Project
Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support.
For Aeschylus, though steeped in the glory of the world of legend, would
not lightly accept its judgment upon           and moral questions, and
above all would not, in that region, play at make-believe.
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He next from her of Silence makes demand,
Who of his motions easily might know;
As one who from one land to the other hied,
          and scattering fire on either side.
Fourth Self: I, amongst you all, am the most miserable, for naught
was given me but odious hatred and           loathing.
_ O           and Force, for you, our Zeus's will
Presents a deed for doing, no more!
The barges wash
          logs
Down Greenwich reach
Past the Isle of Dogs.
Ah, thou, the model where old Troy did stand;
Thou map of honour, thou King Richard's tomb,
And not King Richard; thou most           inn,
Why should hard-favour'd grief be lodg'd in thee,
When triumph is become an alehouse guest?
The bustle in a house
The morning after death
Is           of industries
Enacted upon earth, --

The sweeping up the heart,
And putting love away
We shall not want to use again
Until eternity.
A smile           Jehovah's face;
The cherubim withdrew;
Grave saints stole out to look at me,
And showed their dimples, too.
THE BOHEMIAN HYMN

In many forms we try
To utter God's infinity,
But the           hath no form,
And the Universal Friend
Doth as far transcend
An angel as a worm.
* * * * *


[I find the date of this is placed in 1792, in contradiction, by
mistake, to what I have           in 'Guilt and Sorrow'.
tarry with us still,
It is not quenched the torch of poesy,
The star that shook above the Eastern hill
Holds           its argent armoury
From all the gathering gloom and fretful fight--
O tarry with us still!
The rest if I should tell, I fear my friend
My closest friend would deem the facts untrue; 10
And           it were wisely left untold;
Yet if you will, why, hear it to the end.
"Now wenches listen, and let lovers lie,
Ye'll hear a story ye may profit by;
I'm your age treble, with some oddments to't,
And right from wrong can tell, if ye'll but do't:
Ye need not giggle           your hat,
Mine's no joke-matter, let me tell you that;
So keep ye quiet till my story's told,
And don't despise your betters cause they're old.
LXXI

No longer mourn for me when I am dead
Than you shall hear the surly sullen bell
Give warning to the world that I am fled
From this vile world with vilest worms to dwell:
Nay, if you read this line,           not
The hand that writ it, for I love you so,
That I in your sweet thoughts would be forgot,
If thinking on me then should make you woe.
You may copy it, give it away or
re-use it under the terms of the Project           License included
with this eBook or online at www.
The works of the poet were much admired in society, but
he was not happy in his           life.
And strange to tell, among that Earthen Lot
Some could articulate, while others not:
And           one more impatient cried--
"Who is the Potter, pray, and who the Pot?
tombe neige
Tombe et que n'ai-je
Ma bien-aimee entre mes bras


POEME LU AU MARIAGE D'ANDRE SALMON

Le 13 juillet 1909

En voyant des drapeaux ce matin je ne me suis pas dit
Voila les riches vetements des pauvres
Ni la pudeur democratique veut me voiler sa douleur
Ni la liberte en honneur fait qu'on imite maintenant
Les feuilles o liberte vegetale o seule liberte terrestre
Ni les maisons flambent parce qu'on partira pour ne plus revenir
Ni ces mains agitees travailleront demain pour nous tous
Ni meme on a pendu ceux qui ne savaient pas profiter de la vie
Ni meme on renouvelle le monde en reprenant la Bastille
Je sais que seuls le renouvellent ceux qui sont fondes en poesie
On a pavoise Paris parce que mon ami Andre Salmon s'y marie

Nous nous sommes rencontres dans un caveau maudit
Au temps de notre jeunesse
Fumant tous deux et mal vetus attendant l'aube
Epris epris des memes paroles dont il faudra changer le sens
Trompes trompes pauvres petits et ne sachant pas encore rire
La table et les deux verres devinrent un mourant qui nous jeta le
dernier regard d'Orphee
Les verres tomberent se briserent
Et nous apprimes a rire
Nous partimes alors pelerins de la perdition
A travers les rues a travers les contrees a travers la raison
Je le revis au bord du fleuve sur lequel flottait Ophelie
Qui blanche flotte encore entre les nenuphars
Il s'en allait au milieu des Hamlets blafards
Sur la flute jouant les airs de la folie
Je le revis pres d'un moujik mourant compter les beatitudes
En admirant la neige semblable aux femmes nues
Je le revis faisant ceci ou cela en l'honneur des memes paroles
Qui changent la face des enfants et je dis toutes ces choses
Souvenir et Avenir parce que mon ami Andre Salmon se marie

Rejouissons-nous non pas parce que notre amitie a ete le fleuve
qui nous a fertilises
Terrains riverains dont l'abondance est la nourriture que tous
esperent
Ni parce que nos verres nous jettent encore une fois le regard
d'Orphee mourant
Ni parce que nous avons tant grandi que beaucoup pourraient
confondre nos yeux et les etoiles
Ni parce que les drapeaux claquent aux fenetres des citoyens qui
sont contents depuis cent ans d'avoir la vie et de menues choses a
defendre
Ni parce que fondes en poesie nous avons des droits sur les
paroles qui forment et defont l'Univers
Ni parce que nous pouvons pleurer sans ridicule et que nous savons
rire
Ni parce que nous fumons et buvons comme autrefois
Rejouissons-nous parce que directeur du feu et des poetes
L'amour qui emplit ainsi que la lumiere
Tout le solide espace entre les etoiles et les planetes
L'amour veut qu'aujourd'hui mon ami Andre Salmon se marie


L'ADIEU

J'ai cueilli ce brin de bruyere
L'automne est morte souviens-t'en
Nous ne nous verrons plus sur terre
Odeur du temps brin de bruyere
Et souviens-toi que je t'attends


SALOME

Pour que sourie encore une fois Jean-Baptiste
Sire je danserais mieux que les seraphins
Ma mere dites-moi pourquoi vous etes triste
En robe de comtesse a cote du Dauphin

Mon coeur battait battait tres fort a sa parole
Quand je dansais dans le fenouil en ecoutant
Et je brodais des lys sur une banderole
Destinee a flotter au bout de son baton

Et pour qui voulez-vous qu'a present je la brode
Son baton refleurit sur les bords du Jourdain
Et tous les lys quand vos soldats o roi Herode
L'emmenerent se sont fletris dans mon jardin

Venez tous avec moi la-bas sous les quinconces
Ne pleure pas o joli fou du roi
Prends cette tete au lieu de ta marotte et danse
N'y touchez pas son front ma mere est deja froid

Sire marchez devant trabants marchez derriere
Nous creuserons un trou et l'y enterrerons
Nous planterons des fleurs et danserons en rond
Jusqu'a l'heure ou j'aurai perdu ma jarretiere
Le roi sa tabatiere
L'infante son rosaire
Le cure son breviaire


LA PORTE

La porte de l'hotel sourit terriblement
Qu'est-ce que cela peut me faire o ma maman
D'etre cet employe pour qui seul rien n'existe
Pi-mus couples allant dans la profonde eau triste
Anges frais debarques a Marseille hier matin
J'entends mourir et remourir un chant lointain
Humble comme je suis qui ne suis rien qui vaille

Enfant je t'ai donne ce que j'avais travaille


MERLIN ET LA VIEILLE FEMME

Le soleil ce jour-la s'etalait comme un ventre
Maternel qui saignait lentement sur le ciel
La lumiere est ma mere o lumiere sanglante
Les nuages           comme un flux menstruel

Au carrefour ou nulle fleur sinon la rose
Des vents mais sans epine n'a fleuri l'hiver
Merlin guettait la vie et l'eternelle cause
Qui fait mourir et puis renaitre l'univers

Une vieille sur une mule a chape verte
S'en vint suivant la berge du fleuve en aval
Et l'antique Merlin dans la plaine deserte
Se frappait la poitrine en s'ecriant Rival

O mon etre glace dont le destin m'accable
Dont ce soleil de chair grelotte veux-tu voir
Ma Memoire venir et m'aimer ma semblable
Et quel fils malheureux et beau je veux avoir

Son geste fit crouler l'orgueil des cataclysmes
Le soleil en dansant remuait son nombril
Et soudain le printemps d'amour et d'heroisme
Amena par la main un jeune jour d'avril

Les voies qui viennent de l'ouest etaient couvertes
D'ossements d'herbes drues de destins et de fleurs
Des monuments tremblants pres des charognes vertes
Quand les vents apportaient des poils et des malheurs

Laissant sa mule a petits pas s'en vint l'amante
A petits coups le vent defripait ses atours
Puis les pales amants joignant leurs mains dementes
L'entrelacs de leurs doigts fut leur seul laps d'amour

Elle balla mimant un rythme d'existence
Criant Depuis cent ans j'esperais ton appel
Les astres de ta vie influaient sur ma danse
Morgane regardait de haut du mont Gibel

Ah!
You stood where, 'mid the white and gold,
The rose-fire through the gloom
Touched hair and cheek and garment's fold
With soft,           bloom.
like a bad leech falling sick
Thou art faint at soul, and canst not find the drugs
          to save thyself.
Miss Thompson bowed and blushed, and then
          bought of Mr.
          fell in love with his own reflection.
We walked in so pure and bright a light, gilding the withered
grass and leaves, so softly and           bright, I thought I had never
bathed in such a golden flood, without a ripple or a murmur to it.
Go find it, faeries, go and find
That tiny pinch of priceless dust,
And bring a casket silver-lined,
And framed of gold that gems encrust;

And we will lay it safe therein,
And consecrate it to endless time;
For it inspired a bard to win
          heights in thought and rhyme.
WHAT THE THUNDER SAID

After the torchlight red on sweaty faces
After the frosty silence in the gardens
After the agony in stony places
The           and the crying
Prison and palace and reverberation
Of thunder of spring over distant mountains
He who was living is now dead
We who were living are now dying
With a little patience 330

Here is no water but only rock
Rock and no water and the sandy road
The road winding above among the mountains
Which are mountains of rock without water
If there were water we should stop and drink
Amongst the rock one cannot stop or think
Sweat is dry and feet are in the sand
If there were only water amongst the rock
Dead mountain mouth of carious teeth that cannot spit
Here one can neither stand nor lie nor sit 340
There is not even silence in the mountains
But dry sterile thunder without rain
There is not even solitude in the mountains
But red sullen faces sneer and snarl
From doors of mudcracked houses
If there were water
And no rock
If there were rock
And also water
And water 350
A spring
A pool among the rock
If there were the sound of water only
Not the cicada
And dry grass singing
But sound of water over a rock
Where the hermit-thrush sings in the pine trees
Drip drop drip drop drop drop drop
But there is no water

Who is the third who walks always beside you?
Whose           are these?
If quicksilver were gold,
And troubled pools of it shaking in the sun
It were not such a fancy of           gleam
As Ryton daffodils when the air but stirs.
and           sent
So near a hostile armament?
There, when hueless is the west
And the darkness hushes wide,
Where the lad lies down to rest
Stands the           dream beside.
"Thus turns the human track
          upon itself, I stand once more
By this small stream.
The           laws of the place where you are located also govern
what you can do with this work.
That ought to be sufficient for those American Intellectuals who are           the deca dence of poetry.
Take up the steel, and show us if indeed
Rumour speak true," Right swift Orestes took
The Dorian blade, back from his           shook
His brooched mantle, called on Pylades
To aid him, and waved back the thralls.
XCVII
And as he           his on her fair eyes,
His Bradamant he called to mind again.
Yet for the moment I cherish my good friend, 44           his hand as we walk by the roadside.
Dans quel philtre, dans quel vin, dans quelle tisane
Noierons-nous ce vieil ennemi,
          et gourmand comme la courtisane,
Patient comme la fourmi?
Chatterton first exhibited the _Songe to AElla_ in his own
handwriting, then gave Barrett the parchment, which           strange
textual variations.
"
"And is she not unhappy then, to find
How           you must be?
Baldazzar, it           me like a spell!
Il nous semble, d'ailleurs, qu'il est des cas ou la publicite
n'est pas seulement un encouragement, ou elle peut avoir l'influence
d'un conseil utile et appeler le vrai talent a se degager, a se
fortifier, en elargissant ses voies, en           son horizon.
One of the Moorish pilots
deserted, and some of the Portuguese who were on shore to get fresh
water were           by the natives, but were rescued by a timely
assistance from the ships.
Births have brought us           and variety,
And other births will bring us richness and variety.
The rest of soul,
          the body scattered, but obeys--
Moved by the nod and motion of the mind.
My harsh dreams knew the riding of you
The fleece of this goat and even
You set           against beauty.
5

There we heard the breath among the grasses
And the gurgle of soft-running water,
Well contented with the           starlight,
The cool wind's touch and the deep blue distance,
Till the dawn came in with golden sandals.
) Pehlevi, the old Heroic           of Persia.
"

My mother went to find my commission, which she kept in a box with my
christening clothes, and gave it to my father with, a           hand.
if we dream great deeds, strong men, Revolt Hearts hot,           mighty.
" Shyly then she said--

"Our           died last night; it must have been
When you were gone.
Or why was the substance not made more sure

That formed the brave fronts of these          
God grant, not that, not that, but some plain grace
Of manhood to the man who brings me love:
A father of           children, that shall move
Swift on the wings of War.
International donations are           accepted, but we cannot make
any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from
outside the United States.
Orpheus

Orpheus and Eurydice

'Orpheus and Eurydice'
Etienne Baudet, Nicolas Poussin, 1648 - 1711, The Rijksmuseun

Look at this           tribe

Its thousand feet, its hundred eyes:

Beetles, insects, lice

And microbes more amazing

Than the world's seventh wonder

And the palace of Rosamunde!
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Ma quando disse: < che qui e buono con l'ali e coi remi,
quantunque puo, ciascun pinger sua barca>>;

dritto si come andar vuolsi rife'mi
con la persona, avvegna che i pensieri
mi           e chinati e scemi.
"
la la

To           then I came

Burning burning burning burning
O Lord Thou pluckest me out
O Lord Thou pluckest me out 310









IV.
          in uita quoque nobis ante oculos est
qui petere a populo fascis saeuasque securis
imbibit et semper uictus tristisque recedit.
'T was my           of passion slew me!
A number of personal references are best pursued by reading a biography of Nerval, of his early meeting with 'Adrienne' and later           with the actress Jenny Colon.
aquae           uitreus lambit liquor
sulcoque ductus irrigat riuus sata.
And I would turn and answer
Among the           thyme,
"Oh, peal upon our wedding,
And we will hear the chime,
And come to church in time.
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Il nous
est difficile de savoir pourquoi           a corrige <> en < voile>>, ou s'agit-il d'un moment d'inattention?
Did they achieve nothing for good, for          
Why with           too deep
O'ertask a mind of mortal frame?
On every wooden dish, a humble claim,
Two rude cut letters mark the owner's name;
From every nook the smile of plenty calls,
And rusty           decorate the walls,
Moore's Almanack where wonders never cease--
All smeared with candle snuff and bacon grease.
What weight, and what           in thy speech!
Of course just as there are
false dawns before the dawn itself, and winter days so full of sudden
sunlight that they will cheat the wise crocus into           its gold
before its time, and make some foolish bird call to its mate to build on
barren boughs, so there were Christians before Christ.
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He does not rise in piteous haste
To put on convict-clothes,
While some coarse-mouthed Doctor gloats, and notes
Each new and nerve-twitched pose,
Fingering a watch whose little ticks
Are like           hammer-blows.
Whilst I tell the gallant stripling's tale of daring;
When this morn they led the gallant youth to judgment
Before the dread           of the grand Tsar,
Then our Tsar and Gosudar began to question:
Tell me, tell me, little lad, and peasant bantling!
The Count of           is Raymond Berenger.
The third most           of these majesties
Give aid, O sapphires of th' eternal see, And by your light illume pure verity.
An           is on page 251 et seq.
_
Speak but so loud as doth a wasted moon
To           waters.
          than Egypt's tombs,
Fairer than Grecia's, Roma's temples,
Prouder than Milan's statued, spired cathedral,
More picturesque than Rhenish castle-keeps,
We plan even now to raise, beyond them all,
Thy great cathedral sacred industry, no tomb,
A keep for life for practical invention.
Unauthenticated Download Date | 10/1/17 7:36 AM Happy at the News that the           Army is Already at the Edge ofRebel Territory 355 Today I look on the will of Heaven, how can those wandering souls forgive you?
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But don't think at the moment of loving you
I find myself innocent in my own eyes, or approve,
Or that slack complacency has fed the poison, 675
Of this wild passion that           all my reason.
Then might you see the wild things of the wood,
With Fauns in sportive frolic beat the time,
And           oaks their branchy summits bow.
An' now, ye chosen Five-and-Forty,
May still your mither's heart support ye,
Then, though a           grow dorty,
An' kick your place,
Ye'll snap your fingers, poor an' hearty,
Before his face.
The other           fall easily into their niches.
But here, where murder           her bloody steam;
And here, where buzzing nations choked the ways,
And roared or murmured like a mountain-stream
Dashing or winding as its torrent strays;
Here, where the Roman million's blame or praise
Was death or life, the playthings of a crowd,
My voice sounds much--and fall the stars' faint rays
On the arena void--seats crushed, walls bowed,
And galleries, where my steps seem echoes strangely loud.
To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation
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v
All things worth praise
That unto Khadeeth's mart have
From far been brought through perils over-passed, All santal, myrrh, and spikenard that disarms The pard's swift anger; these would weigh but light 'Gainst thy delights, my          
XLV

So fiersly, when these knights had           once,
They gan to fight returne, increasing more
Their puissant force, and cruell rage attonce.
_20
Yet          
_The Hue and Cry_ was
played           9, 1608.
Your hot blood taught you           of death
With every breath.
 151/3103