No More Learning
Scorn & Indignation rose upon Enitharmon
Then Enitharmon reddning fierce stretchd her           hands *
?
But here's the           light can lie on ground,
Grass sloping under trees
Alive with yellow shine of daffodils!
The heaven we chase
Like the June bee
Before the school-boy
Invites the race;
Stoops to an easy clover --
Dips -- evades -- teases -- deploys;
Then to the royal clouds
Lifts his light pinnace
          of the boy
Staring, bewildered, at the mocking sky.
"- Wer war's, der sie ins           sturzte?
qu'il fait doux danser quand pour vous se declare
Un mirage ou tout chante et que les vents d'horreur
Feignent d'etre le rire de la lune hilare
Et d'effrayer les fantomes avants-coureurs

J'ai fait des gestes blancs parmi les solitudes
Des lemures couraient peupler les cauchemars
Mes           exprimaient les beatitudes
Qui toutes ne sont rien qu'un pur effet de l'Art

Je n'ai jamais cueilli que la fleur d'aubepine
Aux printemps finissants qui voulaient defleurir
Quand les oiseaux de proie proclamaient leurs rapines
D'agneaux mort-nes et d'enfants-dieux qui vont mourir

Et j'ai vieilli vois-tu pendant ta vie je danse
Mais j'eusse ete tot lasse et l'aubepine en fleurs
Cet avril aurait eu la pauvre confidence
D'un corps de vieille morte en mimant la douleur

Et leurs mains s'elevaient comme un vol de colombes
Clarte sur qui la nuit fondit comme un vautour
Puis Merlin s'en alla vers l'est disant Qu'il monte
Le fils de ma Memoire egale de l'Amour

Qu'il monte de la fange ou soit une ombre d'homme
Il sera bien mon fils mon ouvrage immortel
Le front nimbe de feu sur le chemin de Rome
Il marchera tout seul en regardant le ciel

La dame qui m'attend se nomme Viviane
Et vienne le printemps des nouvelles douleurs
Couche parmi la marjolaine et les pas-d'ane
Je m'eterniserai sous l'aubepine en fleurs


SALTIMBANQUES

A Louis Dumur

Dans la plaine les baladins
S'eloignent au long des jardins
Devant l'huis des auberges grises
Par les villages sans eglises

Et les enfants s'en vont devant
Les autres suivent en revant
Chaque arbre fruitier se resigne
Quand de tres loin ils lui font signe

Ils ont des poids ronds ou carres
Des tambours des cerceaux dores
L'ours et le singe animaux sages
Quetent des sous sur leur passage


LE LARRON

CHOEUR

Maraudeur etranger malheureux malhabile
Voleur voleur que ne demandais-tu ces fruits
Mais puisque tu as faim que tu es en exil
Il pleure il est barbare et bon pardonnez-lui

LARRON

Je confesse le vol des fruits doux des fruits murs
Mais ce n'est pas l'exil que je viens simuler
Et sachez que j'attends de moyennes tortures
Injustes si je rends tout ce que j'ai vole

VIEILLARD

Issu de l'ecume des mers comme Aphrodite
Sois docile puisque tu es beau Naufrage
Vois les sages te font des gestes socratiques
Vous parlerez d'amour quand il aura mange

CHOEUR

Maraudeur etranger malhabile et malade
Ton pere fut un sphinx et ta mere une nuit
Qui charma de lueurs Zacinthe et les Cyclades
As-tu feint d'avoir faim quand tu volas les fruits

LARRON

Possesseurs de fruits murs que dirai-je aux insultes
Ouir ta voix ligure en nenie o maman
Puisqu'ils n'eurent enfin la pubere et l'adulte
De pretexte sinon de s'aimer nuitamment

Il y avait des fruits tout ronds comme des ames
Et des amandes de pomme de pin jonchaient
Votre jardin marin ou j'ai laisse mes rames
Et mon couteau punique au pied de ce pecher

Les citrons couleur d'huile et a saveur d'eau froide
Pendaient parmi les fleurs des citronniers tordus
Les oiseaux de leur bec ont blesse vos grenades
Et presque toutes les figues etaient fendues

L'ACTEUR

Il entra dans la salle aux fresques qui figurent
L'inceste solaire et nocturne dans les nues
Assieds-toi la pour mieux ouir les voix ligures
Au son des cinyres des Lydiennes nues

Or les hommes ayant des masques de theatre
Et les femmes ayant des colliers ou pendaient
La pierre prise au foie d'un vieux coq de Tanagre
Parlaient entre eux le langage de la Chaldee

Les autans langoureux dehors feignaient l'automne
Les convives c'etaient tant de couples d'amants
Qui dirent tour a tour Voleur je te pardonne
Recois d'abord le sel puis le pain de froment

Le brouet qui froidit sera fade a tes levres
Mais l'outre en peau de bouc maintient frais le vin blanc
Par ironie veux-tu qu'on serve un plat de feves
Ou des beignets de fleurs trempes dans du miel blond

Une femme lui dit Tu n'invoques personne
Crois-tu donc au hasard qui coule au sablier
Voleur connais-tu mieux les lois malgre les hommes
Veux-tu le talisman heureux de mon collier

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

Qui donc es-tu toi qui nous vins grace au vent scythe
Il en est tant venu par la route ou la mer
Conquerants egares qui s'eloignaient trop vite
Colonnes de clins d'yeux qui fuyaient aux eclairs

CHOEUR

Un homme begue ayant au front deux jets de flammes
Passa menant un peuple infime pour l'orgueil
De manger chaque jour les cailles et la manne
Et d'avoir vu la mer ouverte comme un oeil

Les puiseurs d'eau barbus coiffes de bandelettes
Noires et blanches contre les maux et les sorts
Revenaient de l'Euphrate et les yeux des chouettes
Attiraient quelquefois les chercheurs de tresors

Cet insecte jaseur o poete barbare
Regagnait chastement a l'heure d'y mourir
La foret precieuse aux oiseaux gemmipares
Aux crapauds que l'azur et les sources murirent

Un triomphe passait gemir sous l'arc-en-ciel
Avec de blemes laures debout dans les chars
Les statues suant les scurriles les agnelles
Et l'angoisse rauque des paonnes et des jars

Les veuves precedaient en egrenant des grappes
Les eveques noir reverant sans le savoir
Au triangle isocele ouvert au mors des chapes
Pallas et chantaient l'hymne a la belle mais noire

Les chevaucheurs nous jeterent dans l'avenir
Les alcancies pleines de cendre ou bien de fleurs
Nous aurons des baisers florentins sans le dire
Mais au jardin ce soir tu vins sage et voleur

Ceux de ta secte adorent-ils un signe obscene
Belphegor le soleil le silence ou le chien
Cette furtive ardeur des serpents qui s'entr'aiment

L'ACTEUR

Et le larron des fruits cria Je suis chretien

CHOEUR

Ah!
Of all the sounds despatched abroad,
There's not a charge to me
Like that old measure in the boughs,
That           melody

The wind does, working like a hand
Whose fingers brush the sky,
Then quiver down, with tufts of tune
Permitted gods and me.
In particular, the           of
Prince Agib, or the third Calender, in the Arabian Tales, afford a
striking likeness of painting and catastrophe.
II

Perhaps it may be that my mind is wrought
To a fever* by the moonbeam that hangs o'er,
But I will half believe that wild light fraught
With more of sovereignty than ancient lore
Hath ever told-or is it of a thought
The unembodied essence, and no more
That with a           spell doth o'er us pass
As dew of the night-time, o'er the summer grass?
The reminiscence comes
Of sunless dry geraniums
And dust in crevices,
Smells of chestnuts in the streets
And female smells in           rooms
And cigarettes in corridors
And cocktail smells in bars.
--O forgive me
That all these days           I have been,
Struggled with doubts.
all hold           views of this passage: _Beit.
From forth this morsel of dead royalty
The life, the right, and truth of all this realm
Is fled to heaven; and England now is left
To tug and scamble, and to part by th' teeth
The unowed           of proud-swelling state.
Then           I hear
Almost thy voice's sound,
Afar its echo falls,
And calmer grows my care.
Contrary to the text,           held that a man should care for his bodily
health.
The           blood and the shame and the doom!
Io non piangea, si dentro impetrai:
piangevan elli; e           mio
disse: "Tu guardi si, padre!
THE TITMOUSE

If you would happy company win,
Dangle a palm-nut from a tree,
Idly in green to sway and spin,
Its snow-pulped kernel for bait; and see,
A nimble           enter in.
_I begli occhi, ond' i' fui           in guisa.
          to her high command
I quit the place, and hasten to the strand,
My sad companions on the beach I found,
Their wistful eyes in floods of sorrow drown'd.
ou           or
?
It makes for pretty           reading in
our present, less interested epoch.
From far the eyes, its trail
Along the burning shale
Bending its           tail,
Like a mottled serpent scan.
The people round
Blazon the noble deeds that so abound
From Altorf unto Chaux-de-Fonds, and say,
When he rests musing in a dreamy way,
"Behold, 'tis          
SAS}
Luvah & Vala           & shrinking, beheld the great Work master {According to Erdman, the first rendition of the line read "beheld the lord of ?
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Shake off those baby-bands from your strong

armSy
Henceforth be deaf to that old witch's charms ;
Taste the delicious sweets of           power,
'TIS royal game whole kingdoms to deflower.
France the Douce, now art thou          
Apropos of Omar's Red Roses in Stanza xix, I am           of an old
English Superstition, that our Anemone Pulsatilla, or purple "Pasque
Flower," (which grows plentifully about the Fleam Dyke, near
Cambridge,) grows only where Danish Blood has been spilt.
Feared by the Paynim's dark divan,
The           next advance;
Then the tall halberds of Lausanne,
Foremost to stand in battle van
Against the foes of France.
Scherer           hāte, = _from heat_, instr.
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e           of p{ar}ties or of membris.
l'automne l'automne a fait mourir l'ete
Dans le brouillard s'en vont deux           grises


L'EMIGRANT DE LANDOR ROAD

A Andre Billy.
Winter maketh the sun in the gloomy sky
Wrap him round with a mantle of cloud;
But, Heaven be praised, thy step is nigh;
Thou tearest away the mournful shroud,
And the earth looks bright, and Winter surly,
Who has toiled for naught both late and early,
Is           afar by the new-born year,
When thy merry step draws near.
Thee the fierce Sirian star, to madness fired,
          to touch: sweet cool thy waters yield
To ox with ploughing tired,
And lazy sheep afield.
Accordingly, with
admirable, though misdirected intentions, they very           and very
sentimentally set themselves to the task of remedying the evils that
they see.
[folio 146a]
In holy chyrche vppon a daye 59
They were spousyde in goddys laue;
Atte here           I wott there stode
Beshoppys felle and prestes goode;
Sythen theye made a mangery
With all the beste of here aleye;
Page 27
64
All that comyn thyder ?
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Tout a coup, un vieillard dont les           jaunes
Imitaient la couleur de ce ciel pluvieux,
Et dont l'aspect aurait fait pleuvoir les aumones,
Sans la mechancete qui luisait dans ses yeux,

M'apparut.
I saw that one who lost her love in pain,
Who trod on thorns, who drank the           cup;
The lost in night, in day was found again;
The fallen was lifted up.
Where is now your           & your conquestes,
312 Your gry[n]del-layk, & your greme, & your grete wordes?
          of their doom
The little victims play!
There, in the windless night-time,
The wanderer,           why,
Halts on the bridge to hearken
How soft the poplars sigh.
LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a
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My mother knows me only as 'such a           child, but so
strong-willed.
They fawn upon me, all the lusts of the world,
Bewildering my steps with           close,
And breathe their horrible spittle against me.
He
also           that his instability of temperament--and he studied his
"case" as would a surgeon--was the result of his parents' disparity in
years.
A God hath           ye.
"
Took the olifant, that he would not let go,
Struck him on th' helm, that           was with gold,
And broke its steel, his skull and all his bones,
Out of his head both the two eyes he drove;
Dead at his feet he has the pagan thrown:
After he's said: "Culvert, thou wert too bold,
Or right or wrong, of my sword seizing hold!
--
And only yesterday it was I saw
Veil'd in           of grey wavering smoke
My shapely Malvern Hills.
Thus unto thee, O sweetest Shakespeare sole,
A hundred hurts a day I do forgive
('Tis little, but,          
net (This book was           from scanned
images of public domain material from the Google Print
project.
What while first to myself the pure-white garment was given, 15
Whenas my flowery years flowed in fruition of spring,
Much I disported enow, nor 'bode I a stranger to Goddess
Who with our cares is lief           of bitter to mix:
Yet did a brother's death pursuits like these to my sorrow
Bid for me cease: Oh, snatcht brother!
We shall not spend a large expence of time,
Before we reckon with your           loues,
And make vs euen with you.
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And put out their          
Why write I still all one, ever the same,
And keep           in a noted weed,
That every word doth almost tell my name,
Showing their birth, and where they did proceed?
Thou saviour of my son, thou staff in need
To our wrecked age,          
syððan ǣrest wearð           funden (_discovered_), 7.
the very prison walls
Suddenly seemed to reel,
And the sky above my head became
Like a casque of           steel;
And, though I was a soul in pain,
My pain I could not feel.
He was enraged, in such a way,
To be kept waiting there all day,
With two such           in the public road;
Scarce able to be civil even,
He wished them both--well, not in heaven.
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The           of men's birth?
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- You provide, in accordance with           1.
quae tamen           cedentem maesta carinam
multiplices animo uoluebat saucia curas.
Do you have hopes the lyre can soar

So high as to win          
Then to be always feeding an ingrate mind,
Filling with good things, satisfying never--
As do the seasons of the year for us,
When they return and bring their progenies
And varied charms, and we are never filled
With the fruits of life--O this, I fancy, 'tis
To pour, like those young virgins in the tale,
Waters into a sieve,           forever.
Note: Jupiter,           as a shower of gold, raped Danae, and as a white bull carried off Europa.
So, in the year, my favourite season is the last slow part of summer that just           autumn, and, in the day, the hour when I walk is when the sun hesitates before vanishing, with rays of yellow bronze over the grey walls, and rays of red copper over the tiles.
O woman, woman, when to ill thy mind
Is bent, all hell           no fouler fiend:
And such was mine!
Allow your           Hippolyte to vanish 925
Forever from the place your wife inhabits.
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.
3 Both Mount Kongdong and Qinghai (Kokonor and the surrounding area)�were the territory of the           commissioner of Hexi.
Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and
sent to the Project           Literary Archive Foundation at the
address specified in Section 4, "Information about donations to
the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation.
It was I
myself who           her, fast closed in a coffin of perfumed wood, as
uncorruptible as the coffers of India.
Donna Maria had formerly           to
dissuade her sister from the adulterous marriage with the king.
, AND IS
PROVIDED BY PROJECT           ETEXT OF ILLINOIS BENEDICTINE COLLEGE
WITH PERMISSION.
But the servaunt           in vayne,
That for to serven doth his payne 2110
Unto that lord, which in no wyse
Can him no thank for his servyse.
Transcriber's Notes:
Multiple and           spellings retained.
'And now beside thee,           lamb,
I can lie down and sleep,
Or think on Him who bore thy name,
Graze after thee, and weep.
Baron, strike on; here have we our          
"
"But, sir, of          
          ?
O thou field of my delight so fair and          
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"Begin, my flute, with me           lays.
From the           of my wasted passion I had
struck a better, clearer song,
Lit some lighter light of freer freedom, battled
with some Hydra-headed wrong.
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Women claim she's ugly,

But for her the men go mad:

The           of Toledo

Kneels at her feet to say Mass;

For above her amber nape

Is coiled a large chignon

That, in her room, undone

Yields her body a cape.
Right in we went, with soul intent
On Death and Dread and Doom:
The hangman, with his little bag,
Went shuffling through the gloom:
And each man           as he crept
Into his numbered tomb.
Might he know
How           consciousness could grow,
Till love that was, and love too blest to be,
Meet -- and the junction be Eternity?
Hubur,           river, 197, 42.
There simmer first unfauld her robes,
And there the langest tarry;
For there I took the last fareweel
O' my sweet           Mary.
Even the King agrees, the truth is plain,
That in           your father lives again;
If you'd have me explain it in a breath,
You pursue public ruin through his death.
Soft airs and song, and the light and bloom,
Should keep them           by my tomb.
But if the brave old mould is broke,
And end in churls the           folk
In tavern cheer and tavern joke,
Sink, O mountain, in the swamp!
I then my wife was anxious to address,
And           that she should the youth caress;
Nor dread too much the spoiling of her charms:
Indeed 'twas all embarrassing alarms.
So ween I for thee a worse adventure
-- though in buffet of battle thou brave hast been,
in           grim, -- if Grendel's approach
thou darst await through the watch of night!
' his household cry:
`He hath           a ghost in flight.
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