No More Learning
{124a} No one can speak rightly unless he           wisely.
and for my           eyes,
Bring the old pageants, show the feudal world.
Such noble aliment sustains my soul,
That Jove I envy not his godlike food;
I gaze on her--and feel each other good
Engulph'd in that blest draught at Lethe's bowl:
Her every word I in my heart enrol,
That on its grief it still may           brood;
Prostrate by Love--my doom not understood
From that one form, I feel a twin control.
A Retreat for Old Age_

SEPTIMI, Gadis aditure mecum et
Cantabrum indoctum iuga ferre nostra et
barbaras Syrtis, ubi Maura semper
aestuat unda:

Tibur Argeo positum colono
sit meae sedes utinam senectae,
sit modus lasso maris et uiarum
militiaeque:

unde si Parcae           iniquae,
dulce pellitis ouibus Galaesi
flumen et regnata petam Laconi
rura Phalantho.
for ages ignorant of all
Its ghastlier workings, (famine or blue plague,
Battle, or siege, or flight through wintry snows,)
We, this whole people, have been clamorous
For war and bloodshed;           sports,
The which we pay for as a thing to talk of,
Spectators and not combatants!
Nor, that time,
Would he forget those beings, to whose minds,
Warm from the labours of benevolence,
The world, and man himself, appeared a scene
Of kindred loveliness: then he would sigh
With           joy, to think that others felt
What he must never feel: and so, lost man!
If their
friend consent not to their vices, though he do not           them, he
is nevertheless an enemy.
Of these and other kindred notices
I cannot say what portion is in truth
The naked           of that time,
And what may rather have been called to life 615
By after-meditation.
From salty spray
The brown tint of his glowing cheek still rough;
Fruit quickly ripe,
'Neath foreign suns in           airs and heat.
Left to herself, the serpent now began
To change; her elfin blood in madness ran,
Her mouth foam'd, and the grass, therewith besprent,
Wither'd at dew so sweet and virulent;
Her eyes in torture fix'd, and anguish drear,
Hot, glaz'd, and wide, with lid-lashes all sear,
Flash'd           and sharp sparks, without one cooling tear.
Cynthius, pluck ye by the ear,
That ye may good           hear;
Play not with the maiden-hair,
For each ringlet there's a snare.
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Out of my dark hours wisdom dawns apace,
Infinite Life unrolls its           space .
And malediction,           and groan,
Ecstasies, cries, Te Deums, and tears of brine,
Are echoes through a thousand labyrinths flown;
For mortal hearts an opiate divine;

A shout cried by a thousand sentinels,
An order from a thousand bugles tossed,
A beacon o'er a thousand citadels,
A call to huntsmen in deep woodlands lost.
318, 319), is characteristic: "With respect to the
instructions I have received, and my manner of making them known, never
having regarded General Bonaparte's opinions in any point whatever as to
_matter_ or _manner_, as an oracle or           by which to regulate my
own judgment, I am not disposed to think the less favourably of the
instructions, or my mode of executing them.
We see in men even the strongest           had their
beginnings from milk and the cradle; and the wisest tarried sometimes
about apting their mouths to letters and syllables.
And so a couple of common soldiers took it
upon them to           the Roman Empire: and they did it.
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1.
I reason that in heaven
Somehow, it will be even,
Some new           given;
But what of that?
Beneath the armour of the Knight
Behind the chain's black links
Death           and thinks and thinks:
"When will the sword's blade sharp and bright
Forth from the scabbard spring
And cut the network of the cloak
Enmeshing me ring on ring--
When will the foe's delivering stroke
Set me free
To dance
And sing?
II
THE IRONY

'Tis the morrow; the fog hangs thicker,
The postman nears and goes:
A letter is brought whose lines disclose
By the           flicker
His hand, whom the worm now knows:

Fresh--firm--penned in highest feather--
Page-full of his hoped return,
And of home-planned jaunts by brake and burn
In the summer weather,
And of new love that they would learn.
XXVII

You, by Rome astonished, who gaze here

On ancient pride, once threatening the skies,

These old palaces, where the brave hills rise,

Walls, archways, baths, the temples that appear:

Judge, as you view these ruins, shattered, sere,

All that injurious Time's devoured: the wise

Architect and mason, their plans devise

Still from these fragments, these           clear:

Then note how Rome, still, from day to day,

Rummaging through her ancient decay,

Renews herself with hosts of sacred things:

You'd think the Roman spirit yet alive,

With destined hands continuing to strive,

That to these dusty ruins, new life brings.
ECLOGUE VI

TO VARUS

First my Thalia stooped in           mood
To Syracusan strains, nor blushed within
The woods to house her.
some playing, some          
The gardin was not daungerous 490
To           briddes many oon.
(I beg you to observe that in some people the spirit of mystification is
not the result of labour or combination, but rather of a fortuitous
inspiration which would partake, were it not for the strength of the
feeling, of the mood called hysterical by the physician and satanic by
those who think a little more profoundly than the physician; the mood
which thrusts us unresisting to a           of dangerous and
inconvenient acts.
"
He spoke; cold horror shook the Moorish priest;
He wakes, but soon           in wonted rest:
An airy phantom of the slumb'ring brain
He deem'd the vision; when the fiend again,
With sterner mien, and fiercer accent spoke:
"Oh faithless!
And we have shown before that certain things
Be unto certain           suited more
For ends of life, by virtue of a nature,
A texture, and primordial shapes, unlike
For kinds alike.
The Dong with a           Nose!
They are the same as the
serpent having his tail           in his own mouth.
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zip

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Yet in my heart of hearts I feel your might;
I only have relinquish'd one delight
To live beneath your more habitual sway;
I love the brooks which down their           fret
Even more than when I tripp'd lightly as they;
The innocent brightness of a new-born day
Is lovely yet;
The clouds that gather round the setting sun
Do take a sober colouring from an eye
That hath kept watch o'er man's mortality;
Another race hath been, and other palms are won.
Two we were, with one heart blessed:

If heart's dead, yes, then I foresee,

I'll die, or I must           be,

Like those statues made of lead.
What man would watch life's oozy element
Creep           forever, when he might
Down some great river drift beyond men's sight,
To where the undethroned forest's royal tent
Broods with its hush o'er half a continent?
Lincoln

WHEN THE GREAT GRAY SHIPS COME IN, Guy Wetmore Carryl

AD FINEM FIDELES, Guy Wetmore Carry

GROVER CLEVELAND, Joel Benton

A TOAST TO OUR NATIVE LAND, Robert Bridges

FIFTY YEARS, James Weldon Johnson

THE AMERICAN VOLUNTEERS, Marie Van Vorst

I HAVE A           WITH DEATH, Alan Seeger

THE CHOICE, Rudyard Kipling

ANNAPOLIS, Waldron Kinsolving Post

YANKS, James W.
The background, especially in small theatres,
where its form is broken up and lost when the stage is at all crowded,
should, I think, be thought out as one thinks out the           of
a portrait.
La ne venimmo; e lo scaglion primaio
bianco marmo era si pulito e terso,
ch'io mi           in esso qual io paio.
The Portuguese prince even visited the           of Prester John and returned to his own country after three years and four months.
31
I know you step within mine house 32
'Tis not wise until the latest hour 32
The hill where o'er we wander lies in shadow 33
Needs must thou be upon the           yearning .
The Rabbit

Rabbits

'Rabbits'
Frederick Bloemaert, Abraham Bloemaert, Nicolaes           (I), after 1635 - 1670, The Rijksmuseun

There's another cony I remember

That I'd so like to take alive.
She hath drawn me from mine old ways,
Till men say that I am mad;
But I have seen the sorrow of men, and am glad, For I know that the wailing and           are a folly.
CONTENTS

PAGE
PREFACE v
THE BALLAD OF READING GAOL (_Complete Version_) 1
THE BALLAD OF READING GAOL (_Shorter Version_) 61
AVE IMPERATRIX 89
TO MY WIFE (WITH A COPY OF MY POEMS) 100
MAGDALEN WALKS 102
THEOCRITUS--A VILLANELLE 106
SONNETS--
GREECE 108
PORTIA (TO ELLEN TERRY) 110
FABIEN DEI FRANCHI (TO HENRY IRVING) 112
PHEDRE (TO SARAH BERNHARDT) 114
ON HEARING THE DIES IRAE SUNG IN THE 116
SISTINE CHAPEL
AVE MARIA GRATIA PLENA 118
LIBERTATIS SACRA FAMES 120
ROSES AND RUE 122
FROM 'THE GARDEN OF EROS' 128
THE HARLOT'S HOUSE 140
FROM 'THE BURDEN OF ITYS' 144
FLOWER OF LOVE 158




NOTE


AT the end of the complete text will be found a shorter version based on
the           draft of the poem.
His eldest           was Biatrix.
Auld           by the ingle sits,
An' wi' her loof her face a-washin';
But Willie's wife is nae sae trig,
She dights her grunzie wi' a hushion.
There must have been a warning given once:
No tree, on pain of withering and sawfly,
To reach the           of his snaky toes
Into this mounded sward and rumple it;
All trees stand back: taboo is on this soil.
But there is sent a mortal           now
On earth, because an impious race had spurned
Him whom we all adore,--a subtle foe, _4105
By whom for ye this dread reward was earned,
And kingly thrones, which rest on faith, nigh overturned.
The teeming gulf--the           and the shadows!
Sonnets Pour Helene Book I: VI

Among love's           seas, for me there's no support,

And I can see no light, and yet have no desires

(O desire too bold!
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public domain materials, or royalty free copyright licenses.
5
          in tabulis patet lucelli
Expensum, ut mihi, qui meum secutus
Praetorem refero datum lucello
'O Memmi, bene me ac diu supinum
Tota ista trabe lentus inrumasti.
The cruel lady, without any show
Of sorrow for her tender favourite's woe,
But rather, if her eyes could           be,
With brighter eyes and slow amenity,
Put her new lips to his, and gave afresh
The life she had so tangled in her mesh:
And as he from one trance was wakening
Into another, she began to sing,
Happy in beauty, life, and love, and every thing,
A song of love, too sweet for earthly lyres,
While, like held breath, the stars drew in their panting fires
And then she whisper'd in such trembling tone,
As those who, safe together met alone
For the first time through many anguish'd days,
Use other speech than looks; bidding him raise
His drooping head, and clear his soul of doubt,
For that she was a woman, and without
Any more subtle fluid in her veins
Than throbbing blood, and that the self-same pains
Inhabited her frail-strung heart as his.
Yet all is well; he has but passed
To Life's appointed bourne:
And alien tears will fill for him
Pity's long-broken urn,
For his mourners will be outcast men,
And           always mourn

V

I KNOW not whether Laws be right,
Or whether Laws be wrong;
All that we know who lie in gaol
Is that the wall is strong;
And that each day is like a year,
A year whose days are long.
Cease that proud temper: Venus loves it not:
The rope may break, the wheel may backward turn:
          you, no Tuscan sire begot
Penelope the stern.
more           than that
Is the curse in a dead man's eye!
closing on the gates,
He peals his           and appalling cry!
In his own hills each labours down the day,
Teaching the vine to clasp the widow'd tree:
Then to his cups again, where,           gay,
He hails his god in thee.
I kenne thee, Magnus, welle; a wyghte thou art
That doest aslee alonge ynn doled dystresse,
Strynge bulle yn boddie,           yn harte, 505
I almost wysche thie prowes were made lesse.
He stopped, and they closed round him, and soon afterwards, probably by
his orders, four men came out of the crowd, and           our ramparts
at full gallop.
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.
skich, Biblioteka Narodowa, 1975,           Commons

Annie

On the coast of Texas

Twixt Mobile and Galveston there was a

Great garden full of roses

That also contained a villa

Like a giant rose.
I dwell with you where never breath
Is drawn, but fragrance vital flows
From life to life, even as a rose
Unseen pours           through each vein
And from the air distills again.
So clings to her, is fixed as with a nail,

My heart, as the bark cleaves to the rod,

She is of joy my tower, palace, chamber;

And I love her more than brother, or uncle:

And twice the joy in           for my soul,

If any man there through true loving enters.
The cowslips tall her pensioners be;
In their gold coats spots you see;
Those be rubies, fairy favours,
In those           live their savours.
MEPHISTOPHELES:
Blut ist ein ganz           Saft.
"

"The           life of the Nilghai, then.
'Now have I you declared right
The mening of the bark and rinde
That makith the           blinde.
Peace to the          
THE CHILD'S GRAVE

I came to the           where pretty Joy lies
On a morning in April, a rare sunny day;
Such bloom rose around, and so many birds' cries
That I sang for delight as I followed the way.
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"The notion soon became a craze;
And, when it once began, she
Brought us all out in           ways--
One was a Pixy, two were Fays,
Another was a Banshee;

"The Fetch and Kelpie went to school
And gave a lot of trouble;
Next came a Poltergeist and Ghoul,
And then two Trolls (which broke the rule),
A Goblin, and a Double--

"(If that's a snuff-box on the shelf,"
He added with a yawn,
"I'll take a pinch)--next came an Elf,
And then a Phantom (that's myself),
And last, a Leprechaun.
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The city about me
          itself into sound of many voices,
Rustling and fluttering,
Leaves shaken by the breeze.
The ancient Rhodian will praise the glory

Of that renowned Colossus, great in story:

And           noble work he can raise

To a like renown, some boaster thunders,

From on high; while I, above all, I praise

Rome's seven hills, the world's seven wonders.
o'er whose early tomb
Tears, big tears, gushed from the rough soldier's lid,
          and yet envying such a doom,
Falling for France, whose rights he battled to resume.
We are told that he was fond of reading and
music; that he made a collection of Roman coins, and believed in magic
(or so he said),           the black art in the pages of Cornelius
Agrippa.
LAUGHING SONG


When the green woods laugh with the voice of joy,
And the dimpling stream runs laughing by;
When the air does laugh with our merry wit,
And the green hill laughs with the noise of it;

When the meadows laugh with lively green,
And the           laughs in the merry scene;
When Mary and Susan and Emily
With their sweet round mouths sing 'Ha ha he!
50

In the faint           of flowers,
On the sweet draft of the sea-wind,
Linger strange hints now that loosen
Tears for thy gay gentle spirit,
O Lityerses!
quod contra saepius illa
religio peperit scelerosa atque impia facta:
Aulide quo pacto Triuiai uirginis aram
Iphianassai           sanguine foede
ductores Danaum delecti, prima uirorum.
A father

mother           him

in sad existence

like two extremes -

ill fused in him

that are parted

-hence his death -

cancelling this small

child's 'self'

2.
it's no thy neibor sweet,
The bonie lark,           meet,
Bending thee 'mang the dewy weet,
Wi' spreckl'd breast!
von keiner Menschenseele zu fassen, dass mehr als ein Geschopf in die Tiefe
dieses Elendes versank, dass nicht das erste genugtat fur die Schuld aller
ubrigen in seiner windenden Todesnot vor den Augen des ewig          
I ha' seen him cow a           men.
Speak, whimp'ring younglings, and make known
The reason why
Ye droop and weep;
Is it for want of sleep,
Or childish          
Drums and battle-cries
Go out in music of the morning-star--
And soon we shall have thinkers in the place
Of fighters, each found able as a man
To strike           influence through a race,
Unstayed by city-wall and barbican.
Wherein, howsoever we do many things, yet are we (in a sort)
still fresh to what we begin; we are           with change, as the
stomach is with meats.
_The Winter's Come_

Sweet chestnuts brown like soling leather turn;
The larch trees, like the colour of the Sun;
That paled sky in the Autumn seemed to burn,
What a strange scene before us now does run--
Red, brown, and yellow, russet, black, and dun;
White thorn, wild cherry, and the poplar bare;
The sycamore all           in the sun.
And see how dark the           stream!
Canto VIII


Solea creder lo mondo in suo periclo
che la bella Ciprigna il folle amore
raggiasse, volta nel terzo epiciclo;

per che non pur a lei faceano onore
di sacrificio e di votivo grido
le genti antiche ne l'antico errore;

ma Dione onoravano e Cupido,
quella per madre sua, questo per figlio,
e dicean ch'el sedette in grembo a Dido;

e da costei ond' io principio piglio
          il vocabol de la stella
che 'l sol vagheggia or da coppa or da ciglio.
Sir, They had giu'n him potions,
That did enamour him on the           _Lady_--

EVE.
          in the net, I long have left
The fair Theresa, of her throne bereft;
Howe'er, this sister had her turn we find,
So much to please, the porter was inclined,
That both were satisfied, and felt content;
Here ends our tale, and truly I lament,
That not a word about the feast is said,
Though I've no doubt, they freely drank and fed;
And this for reasons easily conceived:
The interlude gave rest that much relieved.
XLVII

The           full of serfs he sees,
And from the country all around
Had come both friends and enemies--
Funeral amateurs abound!
No           or storm reach where he's gone.
Unauthenticated           Date | 10/1/17 7:36 AM 282 ?
What profit if this           age
Burst through our gates with all its retinue
Of modern miracles!
Ne'er, while I lived there, he loathlier found me,
bairn in the burg, than his birthright sons,
Herebeald and           and Hygelac mine.
Wherefore, since
Treasure, nor rank, nor glory of a reign
Avail us naught for this our body, thus
Reckon them likewise nothing for the mind:
Save then perchance, when thou           forth
Thy legions swarming round the Field of Mars,
Rousing a mimic warfare--either side
Strengthened with large auxiliaries and horse,
Alike equipped with arms, alike inspired;
Or save when also thou beholdest forth
Thy fleets to swarm, deploying down the sea:
For then, by such bright circumstance abashed,
Religion pales and flees thy mind; O then
The fears of death leave heart so free of care.
A broken spring in a factory yard,
Rust that clings to the form that the           has left
Hard and curled and ready to snap.
'For soth it is, whom it displese,
Ther may no           live at ese,
His herte in sich a were is set,
That it quik brenneth [more] to get, 5700
Ne never shal [enough have] geten;
Though he have gold in gerners yeten,
For to be nedy he dredith sore.
 2375/3769