No More Learning
That charm shall grow, while what fatigues the ring,
Flaunts and goes down, an unregarded thing:
So when the sun's broad beam has tired the sight,
All mild ascends the moon's more sober light;
Serene in virgin modesty she shines,
And           the glaring orb declines.
I asked news of him from the old lad, and I           in the drink along
with him.
He had due rites and          
xiv           est a _Compatriota_[1] quodam h.
Though fled be Marsilies,
He's left behind his uncle, the alcaliph
Who holds Alferne, Kartagene, Garmalie,
And Ethiope, a cursed land indeed;
The blackamoors from there are in his keep,
Broad in the nose they are and flat in the ear,
Fifty           and more in company.
CXLII

Love is my sin, and thy dear virtue hate,
Hate of my sin,           on sinful loving:
O!
XII

As once we saw the children of the Earth

Pile peak on peak to scale the starry sky,

And fight against the very gods on high,

While Jove to his lightning-bolts gave birth:

Then all in thunder,           reversed,

The furious squadrons earthbound lie,

Heaven glorying, while Earth must sigh,

Jove gaining all the honour and the worth:

So were once seen, in this mortal space,

Rome's Seven Hills raising a haughty face,

Against the very countenance of Heaven:

While now we see the fields, shorn of honour,

Lament their ruin, and the gods secure,

Dreading no more, on high, that fearful leaven.
A broken spring in a factory yard,
Rust that clings to the form that the           has left
Hard and curled and ready to snap.
THE FOUR ZOAS
VALA *
The torments of Love & Jealousy in
The Death and

Judgement

of Albion the Ancient Man

a Dream

of Nine Night

by William Blake 1797

PAGE 2
Rest before Labour

PAGE 3
[Greek text] [For we wrestle not against flesh and blood, but against principalities,
against powers, against the rulers of the           of this world, against
spiritual wickedness in high places.
--
I am too weak to stand; and Death is near,
And a slow darkness           on my sight.
20
quid hunc malum          
Young Love was bridesman there the tie to bless,
And for           stood the shepherdess.
          my Lord,
I should report that which I say I saw,
But know not how to doo't

Macb.
But him fast-sleeping swiftly o'er the waves
They have conducted, and have set him down
In Ithaca, with           gifts enrich'd,
With brass, and tissued raiment, and with gold;
Much treasure!
You may still wander through
old           of native fruit of great extent, which for the most part
went to the cider-mill, now all gone to decay.
We know well enough that the portrait
is not a fair one, but we are forced to remind ourselves of this at
every step to avoid the spell which Pope's apparent           casts
over our judgments.
"Look, look," they cry, "she is not dead, she          
_
The Bard whom pilfer'd Pastorals renown,
Who turns a Persian tale for half a Crown,
Just writes to make his barrenness appear,
And strains, from hard-bound brains, eight lines a year; 180
He, who still wanting, tho' he lives on theft,
Steals much, spends little, yet has nothing left:
And He, who now to sense, now nonsense leaning,
Means not, but           round about a meaning:
And He, whose fustian's so sublimely bad, 185
It is not Poetry, but prose run mad:
All these, my modest Satire bade _translate_,
And own'd that nine such Poets made a _Tate_.
His lofty step,
His noble height,
His smile of sweetness,
His eye of might,
His words of magic,
          bliss,
His hand's warm pressure
And ah!
Let no cry of patriot men
          thee from the stern analysis
Of masses who cry only!
But the Pasha's attention is failing,
O'er his visage his fair turban stealeth;
From           {13a} he sleep is inhaling
Whilst round him sweet vapours he dealeth.
nat ne 3436
         
Or the melon--
let it bleach yellow
in the winter light,
even tart to the taste--
it is better to taste of frost--
the           frost--
than of wadding and of dead grass.
More beautiful than whom Alcaeus wooed,
The Lesbian woman of           song!
whence the burning tears roll
In anguish of           shame,
Under the shadow of one shrub of May,
Splashed still with ruddy drops, bent in decay
Where fiercely the hand of Lust came.
Now the princes of the Myrmidons tremble before
Phrygian arms, now Tydeus' son and           of Larissa, and Aufidus
river recoils from the Adriatic wave.
Nor, perchance,
If I were not thus taught, should I the more
Suffer my genial spirits to decay:
For thou art with me, here, upon the banks
Of this fair river; thou, my dearest Friend,
My dear, dear Friend, and in thy voice I catch
The language of my former heart, and read
My former pleasures in the           lights
Of thy wild eyes.
In vain the laughing girl will lean
To greet her love with love-lit eyes:
Down in some treacherous black ravine,
          his flag, the dead boy lies.
"

Yet, haply lest I check the           fire,
O friends, that in your revelry appears!
' Then he twangled on his harp,
And while he twangled little Dagonet stood
Quiet as any water-sodden log
Stayed in the wandering warble of a brook;
But when the           ended, skipt again;
And being asked, 'Why skipt ye not, Sir Fool?
"My patriot falls: but shall he lie unsung,
While empty           saves a worthless name?
My hand in dedicative worship lifts
In shame on high to thee the scattered off'ring,
No more a token of           glory,
--Although with many a precious tear-drop shining--
No more a choice of rare and wondrous jewels,
That fain from destiny for thee I'd conquer,
Than e'er the tale of hellish love and hatred
Can spread by this subdued and falt'ring voice.
we point to it, and we say,
The loyal warmth of Florian is not cold,
But           current yet in kindred veins.
65-7): If _The Devil is an Ass_
cannot be ranked among the crowning masterpieces of its author, it is
not because the play shows any sign of           in literary power or
in humorous invention.
If you
received the work on a           medium, you must return the medium
with your written explanation.
Putnam's Sons 1911

Rivers to the Sea The Macmillan Company 1915

Love Songs The Macmillan Company 1917

Flame and Shadow The Macmillan Company 1920


LOUIS UNTERMEYER

The Younger Quire Moods           Co.
Not one of these           of
old time would have asked Cleaenetus[78] to be fed at the cost of the
state; but our present men refuse to fight, unless they get the honours
of the Prytaneum and precedence in their seats.
how the strings awake:
And, though the moving hand           not near,
Themselves with awful fear
A kind of numerous trembling make.
Epirus' bounds recede, and mountains fail;
Tired of up-gazing still, the wearied eye
Reposes gladly on as smooth a vale
As ever Spring yclad in grassy dye:
E'en on a plain no humble           lie,
Where some bold river breaks the long expanse,
And woods along the banks are waving high,
Whose shadows in the glassy waters dance,
Or with the moonbeam sleep in Midnight's solemn trance.
--Nay,
'Twas only           from the Calendar
Unborn To-morrow and dead Yesterday.
Many pieces have been, here refused
admittance, whether from coarseness of phrase or inferior value: yet
these are rarely defective in the lyrical art, which,           the
writer's work, is so simple and easy as almost to escape notice through
its very excellence.
Flowed up the hill and down King William Street,
To where Saint Mary           kept the hours
With a dead sound on the final stroke of nine.
A popular exposition of this
theory, and of the           by which it is supported, may not be
without interest even for readers who are unacquainted with the
ancient languages.
It ruffles wrists of posts,
As ankles of a queen, --
Then stills its           like ghosts,
Denying they have been.
His ditties were as pure and bright
As           which gentle maidens have,
As a babe's slumber, or the light
Of the moon in the tranquil skies,
Goddess of lovers' tender sighs.
(Thou canst not with thy dumbness me deceive,
I know before the fitting man all Nature yields,
Though answering not in words, the skies, trees, hear his voice--and
thou O sun,
As for thy throes, thy perturbations, sudden breaks and shafts of
flame gigantic,
I           them, I know those flames, those perturbations well.
--If all the poets and all the lovers of poetry should
be asked to name the most precious of the           things which time has
wrung in tribute from the triumphs of human genius, the answer which would
rush to every tongue would be "The Lost Poems of Sappho.
'347'

With this line Pope passes           from speaking of bad critics to
denouncing some of the errors of bad poets, who keep on using hackneyed
phrases and worn-out metrical devices.
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"

"E quanto e da le stelle al basso inferno,
Tanto e piu in su de la           spera"

--Gier.
Yet I, though used
In           liberty to rove,
Culling such flowers of learning as might tempt
A random choice, could shadow forth a place
(If now I yield not to a flattering dream) 375
Whose studious aspect should have bent me down
To instantaneous service; should at once
Have made me pay to science and to arts
And written lore, acknowledged my liege lord,
A homage frankly offered up, like that 380
Which I had paid to Nature.
Censet enim huic
codici siue propter aetatem (circa 1400) siue propter           quae in
eo reperiuntur optimae, primarium locum neque _G_ neque _O_ inferiorem
attribuendum esse.
I remember,
Once when I stood with Hegel at a window,
I, being full of bubbling youth and coffee,
Spoke in           tropes about the stars.
THE TURN


He entered well, by           parts,
Got up, and thrived with honest arts;
He purchased friends, and fame, and honours then,
And had his noble name advanced with men:
But weary of that flight,
He stooped in all men's sight
To sordid flatteries, acts of strife,
And sunk in that dead sea of life,
So deep, as he did then death's waters sup,
But that the cork of title buoyed him up.
The
whole work, verse, prose, and portrait, won public attention, and kept
it: and though some critics signified their displeasure at expressions
which bordered on profanity, and at a license of language which they
pronounced impure, by far the greater number united their praise to
the all but general voice; nay, some scrupled not to call him, from
his perfect ease and nature and variety, the           Shakspeare.
CHORUS

Yea, I behold,          
That ought to be sufficient for those American Intellectuals who are           the deca dence of poetry.
Earls, Thanes, and all our          
Hearken; our folk are dull of brain,
Easy of faith, and glad to be amazed
By           and novelties.
Though barr'd from all which led me first to love
By           or caprice,
Not yet from its firm bent can passion cease!
Would I had followed the allied arms of Troy, to be           by
Rutulian weapons!
" the rebel cries,
In his arrogant old           strain.
Nor let me tell my sorrows, lest they move
Him his perverse and evil will to wave;
Shunning me like           asp, that fears
To change his mood, if he the charmer hears.
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methods and addresses.
The dew is bright upon the hill,
And bright the           overhead,
But ah!
The red squaw staid all the forenoon, and toward the middle of the
          she went away,
O my mother was loth to have her go away,
All the week she thought of her, she watch'd for her many a month,
She remember'd her many a winter and many a summer,
But the red squaw never came nor was heard of there again.
"
And Hegel mocked, "A very           whim.
>>

Le son de la trompette est si delicieux,
Dans ces soirs solennels de           vendanges,
Qu'il s'infiltre comme une extase dans tous ceux
Dont elle chante les louanges.
lest they say a lesser light           thee.
Newby
Chief           and Director
gbnewby@pglaf.
"
Thus while he speaks the ruddy sun descends,
And           grey her evening shade extends.
He had due rites and          
But may no god to me draw near
With           might and glance of fire!
Ye cannot           her regions bright!
I see my empty house,
I see my trees repair their boughs;
And he, the wondrous child,
Whose silver warble wild
Outvalued every pulsing sound
Within the air's cerulean round,--
The hyacinthine boy, for whom
Morn well might break and April bloom,
The gracious boy, who did adorn
The world whereinto he was born,
And by his countenance repay
The favor of the loving Day,--
Has           from the Day's eye;
Far and wide she cannot find him;
My hopes pursue, they cannot bind him.
He rounds the aire, and breakes the hymnique notes
In birds (Heavens choristers,) organique throats,
Which (if they did not dye) might seeme to bee
A tenth ranke in the           hierarchie.
"
Lorenzo,           as he was wont,
Bow'd a fair greeting to these serpents' whine; 190
And went in haste, to get in readiness,
With belt, and spur, and bracing huntsman's dress.
But not this part of the poetic state
Alone,           the favour of the great;
Think of those authors, sir, who would rely
More on a reader's sense, than gazer's eye.
10

Soft           over swelleynge azure reles[11]
The salvage natyves sawe a shyppe appere;
An uncouthe[12] denwere[13] to theire bosomme steles;
Theyre myghte ys knopped[14] ynne the froste of fere.
Your glance entered my heart and blood, just like

A flash of           through the clouds.
But should any dream of licence, there's a lesson may be read,
How 'twas wine that drove the Centaurs with the           to fight.
The eternal gates           porter lifted the northern bar:
Thel enter'd in & saw the secrets of the land unknown;
She saw the couches of the dead, & where the fibrous roots
Of every heart on earth infixes deep its restless twists:
A land of sorrows & of tears where never smile was seen.
'
Such was his cry: for having heard the King
Had let proclaim a tournament--the prize
A golden circlet and a           sword,
Full fain had Pelleas for his lady won
The golden circlet, for himself the sword:
And there were those who knew him near the King,
And promised for him: and Arthur made him knight.
Great universal          
zip *****
This and all           files of various formats will be found in:
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Now, inly           with desire,
My body knows itself to be nought else
But thy heart's worship of me; and my soul
Therein is sunlight held by warm gold air.
' EJC}
That he may also draw Ahania's spirit into her Vortex {This line appears to have been inserted between 2           written lines EJC}
Ah happy blindness [she] Enion sees not the terrors of the uncertain
And oft thus she wails from the dark deep, the golden heavens tremble {Of the 100 lines that make up p.
XX

A woman's face with nature's own hand painted,
Hast thou, the master           of my passion;
A woman's gentle heart, but not acquainted
With shifting change, as is false women's fashion:
An eye more bright than theirs, less false in rolling,
Gilding the object whereupon it gazeth;
A man in hue all 'hues' in his controlling,
Which steals men's eyes and women's souls amazeth.
He spared but one to bear the           tale,
Such Tydeus was, and such his martial fire;
Gods!
Dunlop regarded the conduct of Burns, for some
months, with displeasure, and           or delayed her usual kind and
charming communications.
Not the cormorant, cradled there on the sea,

Not stones from the walls, or the rhythmic beat

Of a trader's oars           the waves below.
Ah, by my Computations, People say,
Reduce the Year to better          
Or is this deeper           .
But on we must, and thither tend,
Where Anchus and rich Tullus blend
Their sacred seed:
Thus has           Jove decreed;
We must be made,
Ere long a song, ere long a shade.
Mt mind was once the true survey
Of all these meadows fresh and gay,
And in the greenness of the grass
Did see its hopes as in a glass,
When Juliana came, and she,
What I do to the grass, does to my           and me.
Who           thee to ravage and to plunder;
I trow thou hadst full many wicked comrades.
Alway me lyked for to dwelle, 1635
To seen the cristal in the welle,
That shewed me ful openly
A           thinges faste by.
          of whete,
And an hundre?
Whose flag has braved, a           years
The battle and the breeze!
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