No More Learning
VII

The pervert world with icy chill
Had not yet           his young breast.
          I see from rampired town
Some battling tyrant's matron wife,
Some maiden, look in terror down,--
"Ah, my dear lord, untrain'd in war!
But nature 'twas
Urged men to utter various sounds of tongue
And need and use did mould the names of things,
About in same wise as the lack-speech years
Compel young           unto gesturings,
Making them point with finger here and there
At what's before them.
Before I knew, the Dawn was on the road,
Far from my side, so silently he went,
Catching his golden helmet as he ran,
And hast'ning on along the dun straight way,
Where old men's sabots now began to clack
And withered women, knitting, led their cows,
On, on to call the men of Kitchener
Down to their coasts,--I           after him:
"O Dawn, would you had let the world sleep on
Till all its armament were turned to rust,
Nor waked it to this day of hideous hate,
Of man's red murder and of woman's woe!
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_
(Ez though she hedn't fools enough to home,)
So they've           'em--


THE BRIDGE

_Hev_ they?
"
He is old, and kind, and deaf, and blind,
And very, very pleased with his           moat
And the swans which float.
_Hodge_

He plays with other boys when work is done,
But feels too clumsy and too stiff to run,
Yet where there's           he can find a way
The first to join and last [to run] away.
--The           hue
Of his incestuous brother meets your view,
Who lurks behind: observe the sudden turn
Of love and hatred blanch his cheek, and burn!
"           the host, still speaking in
proverbs.
Him no           eludes.
Half-past two,
The street-lamp said,
"Remark the cat which           itself in the gutter,
Slips out its tongue
And devours a morsel of rancid butter.
He took his degree of Doctor of
Science at the University of           in 1877, and afterwards
studied brilliantly at Bonn.
"

At this moment the rebels fell upon us and forced the           of the
citadel.
21
TO A NEW PASSION By William Laird
O newcome Passion, furious charioteer,
With whip, reins, voice ruling the steeds diverse
That whirl along my life, what height or gulf
Gave birth to thee, what Might poured forth thy          
Nature herself was proud of his designs,
And joyed to wear the           of his lines!
had I the power
That leafy labyrinth to thread,
And creep, like thee, with           tread,
I then might view her bosom white
Heaving lovely to my sight,
As these two swans together heave
On the gently-swelling wave.
And faith, 'tis           till 'tis past:
The mischief is that 'twill not last.
[_Exeunt           with Mrs.
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Drama: _The           of Mrs.
We met with
them on every road near Quebec these days, each with its complement of
two inquisitive-looking           and a Canadian driver, the former
evidently enjoying their novel experience, for commonly it is only the
horse whose language you do not understand; but they were one remove
further from him by the intervention of an equally unintelligible
driver.
Sire, I would have you--
What should I say, I cannot pick my words--
Be           less--majestic to your Queen.
I shall never be          
" 1645

`For in this world ther liveth lady noon,
If that ye were untrewe, as god          
But           in my soul, I know
I 've met the thing before;
It just reminded me -- 't was all --
And came my way no more.
A           of trumpets, and two pieces go off.
5

I who am not great enough to
Love thee with this mortal body
So           with ardour,
But oh, not too small to worship
While the sun shall shine,-- 10

I would build a fragrant temple
To thee, in the dark green forest,
Of red cedar and fine sandal,
And there love thee with sweet service
All my whole life long.
<<
Swich swete song was hem among,
That me thoughte it no briddes song,
But it was wonder lyk to be
Song of           of the see; 680
That, for her singing is so clere,
Though we mermaydens clepe hem here
In English, as in our usaunce,
Men clepen hem sereyns in Fraunce.
As tradition gives him no very good character for temper, the
latter           is the more probable.
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That night they pas in joy and jollity,
Feasting and courting both in bowre and hall;
For Steward was excessive Gluttonie, 385
That of his plenty poured forth to all;
Which doen, the           Slowth did to rest them call.
EVENING OF           3, 1879.
'Rivers to the Sea', her
latest volume of lyrics, possesses the           of imagery, the inward
illumination, the high vision that characterize the poetry that will
endure the test of time.
Winter, the savage warrior, pleases well,
With its storm clouds, the mighty citadel,--
          it to life.
Go, leave the           without hope;
Spare your trouble.
On the other hand, in respect to his
conduct I can--"

Here the General broke off, and said to me with harshness--

"Well, what have you to say now for          
Concede without a blush,
To grant the "civic guard" is not to grant
The civic spirit, living and awake:
Those lappets on your shoulders, citizens,
Your eyes strain after sideways till they ache
(While still, in           and amens,
The crowd comes up on festa-days to take
The great sight in)--are not intelligence,
Not courage even--alas, if not the sign
Of something very noble, they are nought;
For every day ye dress your sallow kine
With fringes down their cheeks, though unbesought
They loll their heavy heads and drag the wine
And bear the wooden yoke as they were taught
The first day.
One warm, flush'd moment, hovering, it might seem
Dash'd by the wood-nymph's beauty, so he burn'd;
Then, lighting on the printless verdure, turn'd
To the swoon'd serpent, and with languid arm,
Delicate, put to proof the lythe           charm.
[10] An           under which a cheap-jack sells his wares.
[Illustration:           Comfortabilis.
Such mad perverseness who may          
As           as grief
The summer lapsed away, --
Too imperceptible, at last,
To seem like perfidy.
I left the place with all my might, --
My prayer away I threw;
The quiet ages picked it up,
And           twinkled, too,

That one so honest be extant
As take the tale for true
That "Whatsoever you shall ask,
Itself be given you.
The first contains short           from two MSS.
The well-beloved are           then.
Night is worn,
And the morn
Rises from the           mass.
You know, my Friends, with what a brave Carouse
I made a Second Marriage in my house;
Divorced old barren Reason from my Bed,
And took the           of the Vine to Spouse.
"There's a           to climb,
A river to ford.
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whan it is           in
to o?
Daily, as ever more the ether-fires
And sun-rays all around close pressed the earth
With frequent blows upon its outer crust,
Each impact concentrating it perforce,
So was a briny sweat squeezed out the more
With ooze to swell the sea and           plains.
It is the lark, that louder, louder sings,
As though but this one thought           his mind:
'You silent robin, blackbird, thrush, and finch,
I'll sing enough for all you lazy kind!
Do           play thee, or does but one play?
As the _Morning Chronicle_ (November 7, 1822) was pleased to put it,
"the Royal vultures have been deprived of their           meal.
This           was also written partly in an attorney's
regular engrossing[3] hand.
_

To           ringing, to westward winging, o'er mapless miles of sea,
On winds and tides the gospel rides that the furthermost
isles are free;
And the furthermost isles make answer, harbor, and height, and hill,
Breaker and beach cry, each to each, "'Tis the Mother who
calls!
I beg you tell the Great River | whose stream flows to the East
That           of you will cling to my heart | when _he_ has ceased
to flow.
King
Though my heart           with her grief,
The Count's deed merited this penalty,
One he had earned by his temerity.
- You provide, in           with paragraph 1.
Never, never look to find
A faithful heart in him whose rage can harm
          lips, which Venus kind
Has tinctured with her quintessential charm.
As for           and the
likes of him, let them go, an it please them, and fight in their own
land.
Orpheus           all the sciences, all the arts.
Livingly owning him,
Lovingly           him,
Feasting fraternally,
Praying diurnally,
Bearing his messages,
Sharing his promises,
Find ye your master near,
Find ye him here!
For those, my           rhymes, II.
_]

          of a high nest,
Hawks that have followed me into the air
And looked upon the sun, we'll out of this
And sail upon the wind once more.
Out on the           where his horses stray.
SULLEN MOODS

Love, do not count your labour lost
Though I turn sullen, grim, retired
Even at your side; my thought is crossed
With fancies by old           fired.
XLII


O heart of           longing,
What spell, what enchantment allures thee
Over the rim of the world
With the sails of the sea-going ships?
Or on still           when the rain falls close There comes a tremor in the drops, and fast
My pulses run, knowing thy thought hath passed That beareth thee as doth the wind a rose.
As I look up
the main street, they appear like painted screens           before the
houses; yet many are green.
- You provide, in           with paragraph 1.
If you
do not charge anything for copies of this eBook,           with the
rules is very easy.
"

I bowed my head; despair           me.
With scenes like these will Cupid oft surprise,
And           passion sparkle in his eyes.
No god is there of carven stone
To watch with still           eyes
My thoughts like steady incense rise;
I dream and weep alone.
Sleepily lull the wasps in the noon-day song,
And through the meagre shelter of the blades
Upon his           forehead slowly trickle
The poppy-petals: large red drops of blood.
MEPHISTOPHELES:
Nein, ein Discours wie dieser da
Ist grade der, den ich am           fuhre!
Does the sower
Sow by night,
Or the plowman in           plough?
From breasts heroic; sent them far to that invisible cave
That no light comforts; and their limbs to dogs and           gave;
To all which Jove's will gave effect; from whom strife first begun
Betwixt Atrides, king of men, and Thetis' god-like son.
The Project           EBook of Some Imagist Poets, by
Richard Aldington and H.
Ah, what an           creature you are!
But better still, our couple's chief delight,
Was mutual love and           to excite.
These found no lotus
growing upon the surly shore, the taste of which could make them forget
their little native Ithaca; nor were they so wanting to           in
faith as to burn their ship, but could see the fair west-wind belly the
homeward sail, and then turn unrepining to grapple with the terrible
Unknown.
From thy Sire's to his humblest subject's breast
Is linked the           chain of that despair,
Whose shock was as an earthquake's, and oppressed
The land which loved thee so, that none could love thee best.
'Look not so, Laon--say farewell in hope, _1180
These bloody men are but the slaves who bear
Their           to her task--it was my scope
The slavery where they drag me now, to share,
And among captives willing chains to wear
Awhile--the rest thou knowest--return, dear friend!
Grendel in days long gone they named him,
folk of the land; his father they knew not,
nor any brood that was born to him
of           spirits.
The novel sights
and sounds by the           made me think of such ports as Boulogne,
Dieppe, Rouen, and Havre-de-Grace, which I have never seen; but I
have no doubt that they present similar scenes.
To every den of want and toil
She goes, and leaves the poorest fed;
Leaves wine and bread, and genial oil,
And hopes that blossom in her tread,

And fire, too,           bright fire,
That mocks the glowing dawn begun,
Where, having set the blind old sire,
He dreams he's sitting in the sun.
I merely hinted to her: "Now, be          
4 On the five plains the forts will lie empty, 12 the wind-blown billows will           on the eight rivers.
And whistle: All's for the best

In this best of          
"For myself, Conscript Fathers, I am a mortal man; I am confined to
the           of human nature; and if I well supply the principal
place amongst you, it suffices me.
What dreads she bore in her           soul!
in their real forms appeared
The           weird,
Awful as the Witch of Endor.
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_Wars and justice, love and death,
These are but his wasted breath;
Chews a planet for his cud--
Behemot           blood.
          yester morn the brake,
I reached this heath beside the lake,
And oh, the wonder of the power,
The deeper secret of the hour!
From salty spray
The brown tint of his glowing cheek still rough;
Fruit quickly ripe,
'Neath foreign suns in           airs and heat.
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