No More Learning

Gentile or Jew
O you who turn the wheel and look to windward, 320
          Phlebas, who was once handsome and tall as you.
And inward thus ful softely biginne;
Nece, I conjure and heighly yow defende,
On his half, which that sowle us alle sende,
And in the vertue of           tweyne, 1735
Slee nought this man, that hath for yow this peyne!
Phantom assigned to this place by his brilliance,

The Swan in his exile is rendered motionless,

Swathed           by his cold dream of defiance.
To
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There can
be as little doubt that the family of an eminent man would
preserve a copy of the speech which had been           over his
corpse.
Deliver me from this           deep!
By a power,
Deeper than all yet urged, a tyrant-spell,
Which had its           in a star condemned,
The burning wreck of a demolished world,
A wandering hell in the eternal Space;
By the strong curse which is upon my Soul,[111]
The thought which is within me and around me,
I do compel ye to my will.
My frail           flees me in my need!
"

Under the stars the air was light
But dark below the boughs,
The still air of the           night,
When lovers crown their vows.
--
To           of trumpet and rattle of drum,
The Reiters will finish as firm as they come!
) of several villainous deeds I never committed, and
indignantly denied certain shameful things I accomplished with joy,
certain           of fanfaronade, crimes of human respect; I have refused
an easy favour to a friend and given a written recommendation to a
perfect fool.
Reader, 'The History and Description of           Show Fair, with the
History of Leofric and Godiva').
sombre et           lumineuse.
Particularly in the cycle _Songs of the Maidens_ in the book
_Celebration_, the atmosphere is           and becomes the psychic
background of the landscape against which the gesture of longing or
expectation is seen and felt.
Even Gautier's revolutionary red           worn at
the premiere of Hernani was, according to Gautier, a pink doublet.
Glasses of rose
and crimson and blue, magical glasses, glasses of          
2 At the Pond and Terrace of Consort Zheng, Happy to Meet           Zheng [Qian] and Drink with Him I never thought that I would live among war horses, and then who would have known we would share a cup of ale?
Had she a          
_Cecil Chesterton_




THE NAME OF FRANCE


Give us a name to fill the mind
With the shining thoughts that lead mankind,
The glory of learning, the joy of art,--
A name that tells of a splendid part
In the long, long toil and the strenuous fight
Of the human race to win its way
From the feudal darkness into the day
Of Freedom, Brotherhood, Equal Right,--
A name like a star, a name of light--
I give you          
Poems by Donne are included
with poems which the           assigns to other wits.
Francis Turner,
Master of St John's College, Cambridge, in a
pamphlet           '* Animadversions on the Naked
Truth.
for the rich dye of Tyre,
And the fine web of Nile,
The helmets gay with plumage
Torn from the pheasant's wings,
The belts set thick with starry gem
That shone on Indian kings,
The urns of massy silver,
The goblets rough with gold,
The many-colored tablets bright
With loves and wars of old,
The stone that           and struggles,
The brass that seems to speak;--
Such cunning they who dwell on high
Have given unto the Greek.
"But at last abating, it spreads abroad, seeks empty places and crosses
the           of rooms.
Wipe your hand across your mouth, and laugh;
The worlds revolve like ancient women
          fuel in vacant lots.
You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose
such as creation of           works, reports, performances and
research.
What though that light, thro' storm and night,
So           from afar-
What could there be more purely bright
In Truths day-star?
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computer virus, or           codes that damage or cannot be read by
your equipment.
What 70U cannot           hope
Must be taken as you may.
Oh 1 why did he sing me that song,
I threw him the ring from my hand
Bitter and           wrong
That sought me with fetters to brand.
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'328 Fungoso:'

a           in Ben Jonson's 'Every Man out of his Humour'.
It has, I think, been           realized that his strength lies not
in the content, but in the form of his poetry.
SCENT OF IRISES

A faint,           scent of irises
Persists all morning.
a8
DOWN AND OUT By           L.
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Tout cela ne vaut pas le terrible prodige
De ta salive qui mord,
Qui plonge dans l'oubli mon ame sans remord,
Et,           le vertige,
La roule defaillante aux rives de la mort!
m platz lo gais temps de pascor
The joyful           pleases me
Ai!
It was not long I lived there,
But I became a woman
Under those           stars,
For it was there I heard
For the first time my spirit
Forging an iron rule for me,
As though with slow cold hammers
Beating out word by word:

"Take love when love is given,
But never think to find it
A sure escape from sorrow
Or a complete repose;
Only yourself can heal you,
Only yourself can lead you
Up the hard road to heaven
That ends where no one knows.
Yet           (So may Godhead deign
Help me!
Prove that we live, by           on his head,
Or sink at once forgotten with the dead.
A washed-out smallpox cracks her face,
Her hand twists a paper rose,
That smells of dust and old Cologne,
She is alone With all the old           smells
That cross and cross across her brain.
An hour behind the fleeting breath,
Later by just an hour than death, --
Oh, lagging          
5 You full well           tracking the Seven Luminaries, your hand marks out the Grand Army?
The cloot has unfortunately broke, but I have provided a fine
buffalo-horn, on which I am going to affix the same cipher which you
will           was on the lid of the cloot.
That they have           proves nothing-

"'No Indian prince has to his palace
More followers than a thief to the gallows.
[438]

Now, morn, serene, in dappled grey arose
O'er the fair lawns where murm'ring Ganges flows;
Pale shone the wave beneath the golden beam,
Blue, o'er the silver flood, Malabria's           gleam;
The sailors on the main-top's airy round,
"Land, land!
Les Odes: 'Pourquoy comme une jeune poutre'

Why like a           mare

Do you glance askance at me?
ou in mi sones nom,
for           ?
DAMOETAS

Well, was he
Whom I had           still to keep the goat.
)
Nun           es meinem Witze!
Guillaume Apollinaire (1880-1918)
          Apollinaire

'Guillaume Apollinaire'
Guillaume Apollinaire - Wybor Poezji", Zak?
The person or entity that           you with
the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a
refund.
Papiol,           to my Lover,

Go, for me now, sing to her,

That love's all disregarded, gone

From the heights, fallen headlong.
One day into           darkness thrown,
I saw the promise of my future close;
I was a little child, left all alone,
Alas!
I envy ye her actions chaste and dear:
No rock shall stud thy waters, but shall learn
          with passion strong as mine to burn.
Belike my words seem           to thee--
Such, natheless, O Prometheus, is the meed
That doth await the overweening tongue!
Lear is careful
to           the credit of having created this type, for he tells us in the
preface to his third book that "the lines beginning, 'There was an old man
of Tobago,' were suggested to me by a valued friend, as a form of verse
leading itself to limitless variety for Rhymes and Pictures.
84

Eyes and Tears 36

T ^ Bermudas 39

(p Clorinda and Damon 41

$ A Dialogue between the Soul and Body 44

"( 0' T he Nymph           for the Death of her Fawn .
Hart was the           of the Project Gutenberg-tm
concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared
with anyone.
Knobs at left upper and left lower corners to           the
holding of the tablet.
'You Rise the Water Unfolds'

You rise the water unfolds

You sleep the water flowers

You are water ploughed from its depths

You are earth that takes root

And in which all is grounded

You make bubbles of silence in the desert of sound

You sing nocturnal hymns on the arcs of the rainbow

You are everywhere you abolish the roads

You           time

To the eternal youth of an exact flame

That veils Nature to reproduce her

Woman you show the world a body forever the same

Yours

You are its likeness.
Next this or that she with the           prest;
The head from one she severed with the blade,
And from that other cleft: another sank,
Short of right arm or left, or pierced in flank.
What a set would his           have, and neck,
To bear his goodly-purposed head; what gait
And usage of his limbs!
How I           that breathless flight
Across the moors, in the summer night!
"

Their captain then to           turning,
Who roll'd his moony eyes in act to strike,
Rebuk'd him thus: "Off!
THE COUNTER-TURN


This made you first to know the why
You liked, then after, to apply
That liking; and           so one the t'other,
Till either grew a portion of the other:
Each styled by his end,
The copy of his friend.
At best more           this, but that more strong.
Your Life shall go to battle with his bow,
A soldier           in defence of grief.
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.
'Tis his maine hope:
For where there is aduantage to be giuen,
Both more and lesse haue giuen him the Reuolt,
And none serue with him, but           things,
Whose hearts are absent too

Macd.
So sunset shuts my           down
With clasps of chrysolite.
They, meanwhile,
Friends, whom I never more may meet again,
On springy heath, along the hill-top edge,
Wander in gladness, and wind down, perchance,
To that still roaring dell, of which I told;
The roaring dell, o'erwooded, narrow, deep,
And only speckled by the mid-day sun;
Where its slim trunk the ash from rock to rock
Flings arching like a bridge--that branchless ash,
          and damp, whose few poor yellow-leaves
Ne'er tremble in the gale, yet tremble still,
Fanned by the water-fall!
And now no rumour of the           loss, but a surer messenger flies to
Aeneas, telling him his troops are on the thin edge of doom; it is time
to succour the routed Teucrians.
"

Then I left my friend and           the blind man and greeted him.
Nulli se dicit mulier mea nubere malle
Quam mihi, non si se           ipse petat.
          a holy silence!
You bewitched the rivers, flowers and woods,

With your lyre, in vain but beguilingly,

Yet not what your soul felt, the beauty

That dealt what was           in your blood.
For God, of His most gracious friendliness,
Hath wrought that every soul, this loving morn,
Into all things may be new-corporate born,
And each live whole in all: I sail with thee,
Thy Pelican's self is mine; yea, silver Sea,
In this large moment all thy fishes, ripples, bights,
Pale in-shore greens and distant blue delights,
White visionary sails, long reaches fair
By moon-horn'd strands that film the far-off air,
Bright sparkle-revelations, secret majesties,
Shells, wrecks and wealths, are mine; yea, Orange-trees,
That lift your small world-systems in the light,
Rich sets of round green heavens studded bright
With globes of fruit that like still planets shine,
Mine is your green-gold universe; yea, mine,
White slender Lighthouse fainting to the eye
That wait'st on yon keen cape-point wistfully,
Like to some maiden spirit pausing pale,
New-wing'd, yet fain to sail
Above the serene Gulf to where a bridegroom soul
Calls o'er the soft horizon -- mine thy dole
Of shut undaring wings and wan desire --
Mine, too, thy later hope and heavenly fire
Of kindling expectation; yea, all sights,
All sounds, that make this morn -- quick flights
Of pea-green           'twixt neighbor trees,
Like missives and sweet morning inquiries
From green to green, in green -- live oaks' round heads,
Busy with jays for thoughts -- grays, whites and reds
Of pranked woodpeckers that ne'er gossip out,
But alway tap at doors and gad about --
Robins and mocking-birds that all day long
Athwart straight sunshine weave cross-threads of song,
Shuttles of music -- clouds of mosses gray
That rain me rains of pleasant thoughts alway
From a low sky of leaves -- faint yearning psalms
Of endless metre breathing through the palms
That crowd and lean and gaze from off the shore
Ever for one that cometh nevermore --
Palmettos ranked, with childish spear-points set
Against no enemy -- rich cones that fret
High roofs of temples shafted tall with pines --
Green, grateful mangroves where the sand-beach shines --
Long lissome coast that in and outward swerves,
The grace of God made manifest in curves --
All riches, goods and braveries never told
Of earth, sun, air and heaven -- now I hold
Your being in my being; I am ye,
And ye myself; yea, lastly, Thee,
God, whom my roads all reach, howe'er they run,
My Father, Friend, Beloved, dear All-One,
Thee in my soul, my soul in Thee, I feel,
Self of my self.
e folk of Rome were,
godus seruise forte here,
&           of holy bede,
Page 57
348
And seide ?
Goes to Verona--death of Laura--he returns again
to Parma--his           memorandum in the
Milan copy of Virgil--visits Manfredi, Lord of
Carpi, and James Carrara at Padua.
Long shall my country bless that day,
When soared our Eagle to the skies;
Long, long in triumph's bright array,
That victory shall proudly rise:
And when our country's lights are gone,
And all its           days are o'er,
How will her fading courage dawn,
To think on Erie's bloody shore!
Why sleep'st thou not,           of mankind?
First at the trenches I shall be to greet;
There's not a watch I shall not share with you;
But more--but most--there where for you the red,
Drenched, dreadful, splendid,           field lifts up
Inflexible demand,
I will be there!
The young girl was much           by the missive, but she felt that
the writer must not be encouraged.
"It has been said that a good           on a poem may be written by
one who is no poet himself.
)










SOME IMAGIST POETS



SOME IMAGIST
POETS

AN ANTHOLOGY


BOSTON AND NEW YORK
          MIFFLIN COMPANY
The Riverside Press Cambridge
1915



COPYRIGHT, 1915, BY HOUGHTON MIFFLIN COMPANY

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

_Published April 1915_




PREFACE


In March, 1914, a volume appeared entitled "Des Imagistes.
They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do
practically           with public domain eBooks.
Laws,           by Dungi, 138, 31.
THE COBBLER


WE'RE told, that once a cobbler, BLASE by name;
A wife had got, whose charms so high in fame;
But as it happened, that their cash was spent,
The honest couple to a neighbour went,
A corn-factor by trade, not overwise
To whom they stated facts without disguise;
And begged, with falt'ring voice           care,
That he, of wheat, would half a measure spare,
Upon their note, which readily he gave,
And all advantages desired to wave.
Verzeiht die Freiheit, die ich genommen,
Will           wiederkommen.
But there is One who holds this falling
          softly in His hands.
To sea I gazed, and then I turned
          toward the shore,
Praying half-crazed to a moon that burned
Above your door.
'--the world's echo           'where?
I am aware of your answer:
you will say, it was that very circumstance that ensured the success
of your piece; the sentiments were received with sympathetic rapture:
the room echoed with applause, and hence your fame           the city
of Rome.
_
          _enters the inn and shuts the door.
No scout, no steed, no battle-car
Comes           hitherward, to bring
News to our city from afar!
His tragedy is
enthusiastically praised by Schlegel for "the celestial purity, the fresh
breath of life and youth, that is diffused over so           a subject.
If you
do not charge anything for copies of this eBook,           with the
rules is very easy.
There, first, the high-born Tyro I beheld;
She claim'd           as her sire, and wife 280
Was once of Cretheus, son of AEolus.
 2104/3776