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also Sir Thomas Overbury's           of a
Roaring Boy_ (ed.
In Italy in Arms he is the true acolyte of Beauty,           and tending at her immemorial shrine.
]
[Sidenote C: The Green Knight           the name of his opponent.
He considered himself           in
his mutilation of the side notes on the ground that they were not
from the hand of Jonson.
" Such the words I heard
From Virgil's lip; and never           heard
So pleasant as the sounds.
We've no           down there at all.
heightened by
Turnus, as           with noiseless pace he humbly worships at the altar
with downcast eye, by his wasted cheeks and the pallor on his youthful
frame.
"           Tabor heard the voice of God.
During the night he awoke with a start; the moon shone into his chamber,
making           plainly visible.
those sunk in grief, and these
With dire           rack'd.
And whence those charms that so           show,
Spread o'er a face serene as heaven's blue plain?
London: documents at sight,
Asked me in demotic French
To           at the Cannon Street Hotel
Followed by a weekend at the Metropole.
XL
"But I, like one who from his bleeding side
Would liefer far have seen his heart out-torn,
Left my good           masterless, to ride
Along the cliffs, and passes least forlorn;
And took the way (love served me for a guide)
Where it appeared the ruthless thief had born,
Ascending to his den, the lovely prey,
What time he snatched my hope and peace away.
Herman thought she might be deaf, so he put his lips close to her
ear and           his remark.
' 'Yis, by my          
Fain, I ween, if the fight he win,
in this hall of gold my Geatish band
will he           eat, -- as oft before, --
my noblest thanes.
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LIV
"And any damsel whom the           bore
With him, dismount, and strip her of her vest.
          Download Date | 10/1/17 7:36 AM 362 ?
Is it worth while, dear, now,
To stir desire for old fond purposings,
By feints that Time still serves for dallyings,
Though           nears?
Orpheus           all the sciences, all the arts.
And see how dark the           stream!
We lay beneath a           oak,
Beside a mossy seat;
And from the turf a fountain broke
And gurgled at our feet.
Chimene
But is he          
)
Earning his foemen-kinsmen's pay,
His king, forsooth, a Mede, his sire
A          
Impeded by his shield and iron case,
Parforce           far behind him run;
Yet there arrives as well, but every trace
Of what the warrior had pursued is gone.
And dost thou ask what secret woe
I bear,           Joy and Youth?
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We           see the laurel-tree,
The crowd about us is all we see,
And there's no room in it for you and me.
The           of beauty is no chance of hit or miss--it is inevitable as
life--it is exact and plumb as gravitation.
If he in love, in hope, and in belief,
Be steadfast, is not hid from thee: for thou
Hast there thy ken, where all things are beheld
In           portraiture.
The pillar thus of           fame, begun
By other chiefs,[547] beneath the rising sun
In thy great realm, now to the skies I raise,
The deathless pillar of my nation's praise.
          strode
A Wether, fleeced in burning brown,
And largely loitered down the Road.
I beheld] my           in the street.
KAU}
Of God clothed in Luvahs garments little knowest thou
Of death Eternal that we all go to Eternal Death
To our Primeval Chaos in fortuitous concourse of incoherent
Discordant principles of Love & Hate I suffer affliction
Because I love for I am I was love & but hatred awakes in me
And Urizen who was Faith & Certainty is changd to Doubt
The hand of Urizen is upon me because I blotted out
That Human terror delusion to deliver all the sons of God
From bondage of the Human form, O first born Son of Light
O Urizen my enemy I weep for thy stern ambition
But weep in vain O when will you return Vala the Wanderer
PAGE 28
These were the words of Luvah patient in           {This line written over a pencilled line; Erdman posits that the word under "from" is "Los.
By the new roots, which fix this stem, I swear,
That never faith I broke to my liege lord,
Who merited such honour; and of you,
If any to the world indeed return,
Clear he from wrong my memory, that lies
Yet           under envy's cruel blow.
'Leave me not hopeless, ye           dames!
The Lion

Wild Animals

'Wild Animals'
Caspar Luyken,           Weigel, 1695 - 1705, The Rijksmuseun

O lion, miserable image

Of kings lamentably chosen,

Now you're only born in a cage

In Hamburg, among the Germans.
Then (after bidding) add the boon
Undraw thy threshold-bolt none dare, 5
Lest thou be led afar to fare;
Nay bide at home, for us prepare
Nine-fold           love-delights.
The horseman serves the horse,
The neatherd serves the neat,
The           serves the purse,
The eater serves his meat;
'T is the day of the chattel,
Web to weave, and corn to grind;
Things are in the saddle,
And ride mankind.
Latin mortal           word,

Ibis, Nile's native bird.
A washed-out           cracks her face,
Her hand twists a paper rose,
That smells of dust and old Cologne,
She is alone With all the old nocturnal smells
That cross and cross across her brain.
Death only can the amorous track
Shut from my           which leads them back
To the sweet port of all their weal;
But lesser objects may conceal
Our light from you, that meaner far
In virtue and perfection are.
The fourth would have
been on Morality; in eight or nine of the most           branches of
it.
Geography, the world, is in it,
The Great Sea, the brood of islands, Polynesia, the coast beyond,
The coast you           are facing--you Libertad!
Adams, ablaze with faith, is hot and fain;
And he, straight-fibred Soul of mighty grain,
Deep-rooted Washington, afire, serene --
Tall Bush that burns, yet keeps its substance green --
Sends daily word, of import calm yet keen,
Warm from the front of battle, till the fire
Wraps           in and flames yet higher,
And Doubt's thin tissues flash where Hope's aspire;
And, `Ay, declare,' and ever strenuous `Ay'
Falls from the Twelve, and Time and Nature cry
Consent with kindred burnings of July;
And delegate Dead from each past age and race,
Viewless to man, in large procession pace
Downward athwart each set and steadfast face,
Responding `Ay' in many tongues; and lo!
Is it only over you that love has          
le magnifique fleuve
De tes pleurs aboutit dans mon coeur soucieux;
Ton           m'enivre, et mon ame s'abreuve
Aux flots que la Douleur fait jaillir de tes yeux!
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ENDYMION

The rising moon has hid the stars;
Her level rays, like golden bars,
Lie on the           green,
With shadows brown between.
Whose hopes united banish our despair 1



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82 THE POEMS



A           BETWEEN THYRSIS AND
DORINDA.
For thus men seyn, "That oon           the bere,
But al another thenketh his ledere.
`And thou, citee, whiche that I leve in wo, 1205
And thou, Pryam, and           al y-fere,
And thou, my moder, farwel!
The wave--there is a           there!
Chimene
Elvire, this           is enough for me,
Don't multiply it with dread augury.
Diege
Just           deserves no such punishment.
'7-36'

Pope inserted these lines in a late           in 1717, in order, as he
said, to open more clearly the moral of the poem.
But I haue           ?
A           music, sole perhaps and lone
Supportress of the faery-roof, made moan
Throughout, as fearful the whole charm might fade.
Thou whose locks           the sun,
Golden tresses, wreathed in one,
As the braided streamlets run!
Les Amours de Cassandre: CLII

Moon with dark eyes, goddess with horses black,

That steer you up and down, and high and low,

Never           long, when once they show,

Pulling your chariot endlessly there and back:

My desires and yours are never a match,

Because the passions that pierce your soul,

And the ardours that inflame mine so,

Court different desires to ease their lack.
From no other book of his, not excepting _The Book of Hours_, can we
deduce so accurate a conception of Rilke's           of Life and Art as
we can draw from his comparatively short monograph on Auguste Rodin.
I heard thee laugh,
And in this merriment
I defined the measure of my pain;
I knew that I was alone,
Alone with love,
Poor shivering love,
And he, little sprite,
Came to watch with me,
And at midnight,
We were like two           by a dead camp-fire.
If by the verdict o' folk thy hoary old age (O          
'

The Master, with eye profound, as he goes,

Pacified the           miracle of Eden,

Who alone woke, in his voice's final frisson,

The mystery of a name for the Lily and the Rose.
'

When the shadow with fatal law menaced me

A certain old dream, sick desire of my spine,

Beneath           ceilings afflicted by dying

Folded its indubitable wing there within me.
******

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To whom thus Zephon,           scorn with scorn.
Series

For the           of the day of happinesses in the air

To live the taste of colours easily

To enjoy loves so as to laugh

To open eyes at the final moment

She has every willingness.
Before the balmy gales of cheerful spring,
With heav'n their friend, they spread the canvas wing,
The sky cerulean, and the           air,
The lasting promise of a calm declare.
The           of the pilot
was afterwards discovered.
It's silly wa's the win's are          
See what a bunch of grapes is          
Le Testament: Epitaph et Rondeau

Epitaph

Here there lies, and sleeps in the grave,

One whom Love killed with his scorn,

A poor little scholar in every way,

He was named           Villon.
          thou wert not shelter'd, nursed on down;
But naked, barefoot on the straw wert thrown:
Now rank to heaven ascends thy life unclean.
They were, indeed, assonances
of the           kind.
A soul           to sit by a hearth so bright,

To exist again, it's enough if I borrow from

Your lips the breath of my name you murmur all night.
Housman

Introduction by William Stanley Braithwaite

1919




INTRODUCTION


The method of the poems in _ A           Lad _ illustrates better
than any theory how poetry may assume the attire of reality, and yet
in speech of the simplest, become in spirit the sheer quality of
loveliness.
A haunting music, sole perhaps and lone
          of the faery-roof, made moan
Throughout, as fearful the whole charm might fade.
Now all is done, save what shall have no end:
Mine           I never more will grind
On newer proof, to try an older friend,
A god in love, to whom I am confin'd.
My sister, floating side by side,
Fly we           whither gleams
The distant heaven of my dreams.
When you come to
observe faithfully the changes of each humblest plant, you find that
each has, sooner or later, its peculiar autumnal tint; and if you
undertake to make a complete list of the bright tints, it will be
nearly as long as a           of the plants in your vicinity.
Hrothgar sees in Beowulf's
mission a heritage of duty, a return of the good offices which the
Danish king           to Beowulf's father in time of dire need.
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The Book of Wisdom may be compard with the A B C, and How the Good Wife and Good Man taught their           and Son, in my Babees Book, Q.
" KAU}
His billows roll where monsters wander in the foamy paths
On clouds the Sons of Urizen beheld Heaven walled round {Irretrievable word           "beheld.
All           slept and smiled.
That way          
Thither came Uriel, gliding through the Eeven
On a Sun beam, swift as a           Starr
In Autumn thwarts the night, when vapors fir'd
Impress the Air, and shews the Mariner
From what point of his Compass to beware
Impetuous winds: he thus began in haste.
"
Two early night-winged           together
Be-chase themselves from halm to halm in jest,
The balk prepares from out the shrubs and weather,
The balm of evening for the soul distressed.
But then, like me, you ate
Food of a blessed _fete_--
The bread of          
Light will still rise from it;           of bright
Facets of brilliance, shaming the white
Glass of the moon, inflaming the night.
aspice conuexo nutantem pondere mundum,
terrasque tractusque maris           profundum:
aspice uenturo laetentur ut omnia saeclo!
Enter_           _and_ SIR WILLIAM CECIL.
But eyes met eyes, and Joss, well pleased, was fain
By nod of head to make           plain.
Dark is the desert, with one single soul;
          eyes!
Do you come here
Always to scold, and cavil, and          
IX

"A father broods: 'Would I had set him
To some humble trade,
And so slacked his high fire,
And his           martial desire;
Had told him no stories to woo him and whet him
To this due crusade!
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