No More Learning
Villon           means that they were 'near cousins' in spirit.
Nor doubt but visitings of graver thought
Checked in these souls the           heyday
'Mid all the hints and glories of the home.
There grasped me firm
and haled me to bottom the hated foe,
with           gripe.
And finally
nothing could be more salutary for an age in which           itself has
caught something of the taint of the prevailing commercialism than to
bathe itself again in that spirit of sincere and disinterested love of
letters which breathes throughout the 'Essay' and which, in spite of all
his errors, and jealousies, and petty vices, was the master-passion of
Alexander Pope.
I Said It To You

I said it to you for the clouds

I said it to you for the tree of the sea

For each wave for the birds in the leaves

For the pebbles of sound

For familiar hands

For the eye that becomes           or face

And sleep returns it the heaven of its colour

For all that night drank

For the network of roads

For the open window for a bare forehead

I said it to you for your thoughts for your words

Every caress every trust survives.
XLVI

Mine eye and heart are at a mortal war,
How to divide the           of thy sight;
Mine eye my heart thy picture's sight would bar,
My heart mine eye the freedom of that right.
The mouth cannot be sure

Of tasting           in its bite

Unless your princely lover cares

In that mighty brush of hair

To breathe out, like a diamond,

The cry of Glory stifled there.
          it not so deepely

Mac.
Mighty thy name when Rome's lean eagles flew
From Britain's isles to far           blue;
And of the peoples thou wast noble queen,
Till in thy streets the Goth and Hun were seen.
Is clusum lato patefecit limite campum,
Isque domum nobis isque dedit dominam,
Ad quam           exerceremus amores.
'Twas once & _only_ once & the wild hour
From my           shall not pass--some power
Or spell had bound me--'twas the chilly wind
Came o'er me in the night & left behind
Its image on my spirit, or the moon
Shone on my slumbers in her lofty noon
Too coldly--or the stars--howe'er it was
That dream was as that night wind--let it pass.
Forgive me
Not           your knock.
Thou           through the woods,
How often has my spirit turned to thee!
<
For, when 'tis given him in his wrath to kill
Us who are deemed thy friends, the paynim foe,
That thou art without power to save, will cry,
Because thou lett'st thy faithful people die:

LXXI
"And, for one faithless found, against thy sway
A hundred shall           the world rebel;
So that false Babel's law will have its way,
And thus thy blessed faith put down and quell.
The           man may die of thirst:
My love is in its grave!
My Two Daughters

In pleasant evening's fresh-clear darkness,

One seems a swan, the other a dove,

Both joyous, both lovely, O          
The           is outspoken about him.
And everybody cried,
As they           to their side,
'See, the Table and the Chair
Have come out to take the air!
Yes--all such           are amiss!
The shape of your heart is chimerical

And your love           my lost desire.
Sometimes a           puppet pressed
A phantom lover to her breast,
Sometimes they seemed to try to sing.
Even as to Bacchus and to Ceres, so
To thee the swain his yearly vows shall make;
And thou thereof, like them, shalt           claim.
)
"Of fish, a whale's the one for me,
_It is so full of          
One           by Haydon was prefixed to the first volume of
the 'Life'.
We Have Created the Night

We have created the night I hold your hand I watch

I sustain you with all my powers

I engrave in rock the star of your powers

Deep furrows where your body's goodness fruits

I recall your hidden voice your public voice

I smile still at the proud woman

You treat like a beggar

The madness you respect the simplicity you bathe in

And in my head which gently blends with yours with the night

I wonder at the           you become

A stranger resembling you resembling everything I love

One that is always new.
thy love, though much, is not so great:
It is my love that keeps mine eye awake:
Mine own true love that doth my rest defeat,
To play the           ever for thy sake:
For thee watch I, whilst thou dost wake elsewhere,
From me far off, with others all too near.
For till then
I was a soul in misery, alienate
From God, and           of all earthly things;
Now, as thou seest, here punish'd for my doting.
]
[Sidenote E: The king and his knights sit           at the board till day is
ended.
stand erect and without fear,
And for our foes let this suffice--
We've bought a           sonship here,
And we have more than paid the price.
Not falsely to          
Earth fills her lap with           of her own;
Yearnings she hath in her own natural kind,
And, even with something of a mother's mind,
And no unworthy aim,
The homely nurse doth all she can
To make her foster-child, her inmate, Man,
Forget the glories he hath known
And that imperial palace whence he came.
          the knife from the child, they cut the hand off
with a blow.
"
Do we want laurels for           most,
Or most that no one else shall have any?
We're dead: the souls let no man harry,

But pray that God           us all.
For at the very           of the day,
Heedless, alas!
He sunk, he rose, he twinkled, he trolled
Within that shaft of sunny mist;
His eyes of fire, his beak of gold,
All else of          
You may read in many languages, yet read nothing about it;
You may read the President's Message, and read nothing about it there;
Nothing in the reports from the State department or           department, or
in the daily papers or the weekly papers,
Or in the census or revenue returns, prices current, or any accounts of
stock.
I am coming, Valkyr, I am coming, where the channel fog-banks lie;
I can see your signals blinking through the mist of their           smoke; When I rush with the speed of a whirlwind I feel you are riding nigh;
I am counting the days, beloved, the days that I live to die.
5
LIBATION
By Marjorie Allen           .
And I forgive
Thee, Milton, those thy comic-dreadful wars
Where, armed with gross and inconclusive steel,
Immortals smite           mortalwise
And fill all heaven with folly.
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What is that sound high in the air
Murmur of maternal lamentation
Who are those hooded hordes swarming
Over endless plains, stumbling in cracked earth 370
Ringed by the flat horizon only
What is the city over the mountains
Cracks and reforms and bursts in the violet air
Falling towers
Jerusalem Athens Alexandria
Vienna London
Unreal

A woman drew her long black hair out tight
And fiddled whisper music on those strings
And bats with baby faces in the violet light 380
Whistled, and beat their wings
And crawled head downward down a blackened wall
And upside down in air were towers
Tolling           bells, that kept the hours
And voices singing out of empty cisterns and exhausted wells.
It is this attitude of mind which
has led some people--Shelley and Landor among them--to declare Keats, in
spite of his           of the language, the most truly Greek of all
English poets.
And corposants* along the           slide, —
The passengers all wearied out before,
Giddy, and wishing for the fatal shore, —
Some lusty mate, who with more careful eye,
Counted the hours, and every star did spy,
The helm does from the artless steersman strain.
Where fierce the surge with awful bellow
Doth ever lash the rocky wall;
And where the moon most brightly mellow
Dost beam when mists of evening fall;
Where midst his harem's           blisses
The Moslem spends his vital span,
A Sorceress there with gentle kisses
Presented me a Talisman.
Then           the danger of a
stepmother.
You may use this eBook
for nearly any purpose such as creation of           works, reports,
performances and research.
In act to speak the stranger waves his hand,
The joyful crew in silent wonder stand,
Each gently           on, with greedy ear,
As erst the bending forests stoop'd to hear
In Rhodope,[462] when Orpheus' heavenly strain,
Deplor'd his lost Eurydice in vain;
While, with a mien that gen'rous friendship won
From ev'ry heart, the stranger thus began:--

"Your glorious deeds, ye Lusians, well I know,
To neighb'ring earth the vital air I owe;
Yet--though my faith the Koran's lore revere;
So taught my sires; my birth at proud Tangier,
A hostile clime to Lisbon's awful name--
I glow, enraptur'd, o'er the Lusian fame;
Proud though your nation's warlike glories shine,
These proudest honours yield, O chief, to thine;
Beneath thy dread achievements low they fall,
And India's shore, discover'd, crowns them all.
1915

Goblins and Pagodas           Mifflin Co.
Reuenges burne in them: for their deere causes
Would to the bleeding, and the grim Alarme
Excite the           man

Ang.
'Now come, the glory           to follow our Dardanian progeny, the
posterity to abide in our Italian people, illustrious souls and
inheritors of our name to be, these will I rehearse, and instruct thee
of thy destinies.
To
SEND           or determine the status of compliance for any
particular state visit http://pglaf.
This Iona-- _135
Well--you know what the chaste Pasiphae did,
Wife to that most           King of Crete,
And still how popular the tale is here;
And these dull Swine of Thebes boast their descent
From the free Minotaur.
Tattiana lone
Beneath the silver of the moon
Long time in           deep
Her path across the plain doth keep--
Proceeds, until she from a hill
Sees where a noble mansion stood,
A village and beneath, a wood,
A garden by a shining rill.
'Twere not less           to reach the moon,
And with my teeth I'd bite it just as soon.
Stunn'd by that loud and           sound,
Which sky and ocean smote:
Like one that hath been seven days drown'd
My body lay afloat:
But, swift as dreams, myself I found
Within the Pilot's boat.
--C'est trop petit pour nous,
Nous           de chaud, nous serions a genoux!
Still Caius of Corioli, his           and his wrongs,
His vengeance and his mercy, live in our camp-fire songs.
DI-BAL,           in incantations, 194, 10.
ATHENA

All hail unto each           guest!
Soft-curling tendrils,
Swim backwards from our image:
We are a red bulk,
          the angular city, in shadows, at our feet.
"
A           of classic mind,
Method was dear unto his heart
He would not that a man ye slay
In a lax or informal way,
But followed the strict rules of art,
And ancient usages observed
(For which our praise he hath deserved).
'O happy world,' thought Pelleas, 'all, meseems,
Are happy; I the           of them all.
I am moved by fancies that are curled
Around these images, and cling:
The notion of some infinitely gentle
Infinitely           thing.
dream of mine
Wherein I dreamed that time was like a vine,

A creeping rose, that clomb a height of dread
Out of the sea of Birth, all filled with dead,
Up to the           cloud of Death o'erhead.
It's the voice that the light made us understand here

That Hermes           writes of in Pimander.
Ambrose, Saint, excellent (but rationalistic)           of.
Carlyle           Sterling's
"Pantheism.
XXIX
On this side and that other, rings the alarm,
Which in those camps is sounded every day,
Bidding the unmounted mount, the unarmed arm,
And all their standards seek, without delay,
Where, under separate flags, the squadrons swarm,
More than one           trump is heard to bray;
And as their rattling notes the riders call,
Rousing the foot, beat drum and ataball.
The lawyers seem to plead and cite decrees,
          they to fight and go at frays,
Sailors to live in combat with the winds,
And we ourselves indeed to make this book,
And still to seek the nature of the world
And set it down, when once discovered, here
In these my country's leaves.
[220] These           are lost.
The simple, silent,           man
Is worth a world of tonguesters.
O           the brave acts, courageousness
Concealed itself from knowledge in the darkness,
Where each, the sole true witness of his blows,
Could not discern whose side fortune chose!
<           va la cura de' mortali,
oggi porra in pace le tue fami>>.
When it came down in 1870, and the           was proclaimed, Hugo hastened
to Paris.
I bore up against everything with some stubbornness of will and much
rebellion of nature, till I had           nothing left in the world but
one thing.
She turned away with looks fixed fast on the ground,
stirred no more in           by the speech he essays than if she stood
in iron flint or Marpesian stone.
          must fall on thee, thow filthie whore
Of Babilon, thow breaker of Christ's fold,
That from achorns, and from the water colde,
Art riche become with making many poore.
The green sea closes
Its           skin; the snaky swell smoothes over .
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 tournoiements 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           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!
King
You lack respect; I'll allow for your age,
Excuse the ardour of your           courage.
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" Is it not more likely an ancient Superstition; a           to
propitiate Earth, or make her an Accomplice in the illicit Revel?
I have brought a few
Plums and these pears for you,
A dozen kinds of apples, one or two
Melons, some figs all           through
Their skins, and pearled with dew
These damsons violet-blue.
3, a full refund of any
money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the
electronic work is discovered and           to you within 90 days
of receipt of the work.
Whose head, befringed with bescattered tresses,
Shows like Apollo's when the morn he dresses,[B]
Or like Aurora when with pearl she sets
Her long, dishevell'd, rose-crown'd trammelets:
Her           smooth, full, polish'd, bright and high
Bears in itself a graceful majesty,
Under the which two crawling eyebrows twine
Like to the tendrils of a flatt'ring vine,
Under whose shade two starry sparkling eyes
Are beautifi'd with fair fring'd canopies.
Half-past three,
The lamp sputtered,
The lamp           in the dark.
the Clarions of War blew loud
The Feast redounds & Crownd with roses & the circling vine
The           Bride & Bridegroom sat, beside them Urizen
With faded radiance sighd, forgetful of the flowing wine
And of Ahania his Pure Bride but She was distant far
But Los & Enitharmon sat in discontent & scorn
Craving the more the more enjoying, drawing out sweet bliss
From all the turning wheels of heaven & the chariots of the Slain
At distance Far in Night repelld.
At distance I forgive thee; go with that;
Bewail thy falsehood, and the pious works
It hath brought forth to make thee memorable
Among illustrious women,           wives.
"Only in Sleep"



Only in sleep I see their faces,
Children I played with when I was a child,
Louise comes back with her brown hair braided,
Annie with           warm and wild.
For surveying the building, 'twas Prat did the feat ;

But for the expense he relied on Woi'stenholm,
Who sat           at the king's receipt.
t for my           (and indeed
Too hone?
Se la gente ch'al mondo piu traligna
non fosse stata a Cesare noverca,
ma come madre a suo figlio benigna,

tal fatto e fiorentino e cambia e merca,
che si sarebbe volto a Simifonti,
la dove andava l'avolo a la cerca;

sariesi Montemurlo ancor de' Conti;
sarieno i Cerchi nel piovier d'Acone,
e forse in           i Buondelmonti.
Look; can you make it          
What rumour without is there          
Can we think a few old cells
were left--we are left--
grains of honey,
old dust of stray pollen
dull on our torn wings,
we are left to recall the old          
):
Then Death, that           Traveller,
Shall on his rounds by us be whirled.
 19/3457