No More Learning
"
--"Many mourn; many think
It is not           to prink
Them in sables for heroes.
AUTUMN


I dwell alone--I dwell alone, alone,
Whilst full my river flows down to the sea,
Gilded with           boats
That bring no friend to me:
O love-songs, gurgling from a hundred throats,
O love-pangs, let me be.
Our births and lives, vices, and vertues, bee
          consumptions, and degrees of thee.
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felix et longa iuuenis dignissime uita
eximiumque tuae gentis decus, accipe nostram
          et ut ueri complectere pignus amoris.
I give you          
MARTHE:
Komm du nur oft zu mir heruber,
Und leg den Schmuck hier           an;
Spazier ein Stundchen lang dem Spiegelglas voruber,
Wir haben unsre Freude dran;
Und dann gibt's einen Anlass, gibt's ein Fest,
Wo man's so nach und nach den Leuten sehen lasst.
Such
confutation was surely not needed; for the           is on the
face of it a romance.
But wherefore let we then our faithful friends,
Th'           and copartners of our loss
Lye thus astonisht on th' oblivious Pool,
And call them not to share with us their part
In this unhappy Mansion, or once more
With rallied Arms to try what may be yet
Regaind in Heav'n, or what more lost in Hell?
By the city's quadrangular houses--in log huts, camping with lumber-men,
Along the ruts of the turnpike, along the dry gulch and rivulet bed,
Weeding my onion-patch or hosing rows of carrots and parsnips,
crossing savannas, trailing in forests,
Prospecting, gold-digging, girdling the trees of a new purchase,
Scorch'd ankle-deep by the hot sand, hauling my boat down the
shallow river,
Where the panther walks to and fro on a limb overhead, where the
buck turns furiously at the hunter,
Where the rattlesnake suns his flabby length on a rock, where the
otter is feeding on fish,
Where the alligator in his tough pimples sleeps by the bayou,
Where the black bear is searching for roots or honey, where the
beaver pats the mud with his paddle-shaped tall;
Over the growing sugar, over the yellow-flower'd cotton plant, over
the rice in its low moist field,
Over the sharp-peak'd farm house, with its scallop'd scum and
slender shoots from the gutters,
Over the western persimmon, over the long-leav'd corn, over the
delicate blue-flower flax,
Over the white and brown buckwheat, a hummer and buzzer there with
the rest,
Over the dusky green of the rye as it ripples and shades in the breeze;
Scaling mountains, pulling myself cautiously up, holding on by low
scragged limbs,
Walking the path worn in the grass and beat through the leaves of the brush,
Where the quail is whistling betwixt the woods and the wheat-lot,
Where the bat flies in the Seventh-month eve, where the great
goldbug drops through the dark,
Where the brook puts out of the roots of the old tree and flows to
the meadow,
Where cattle stand and shake away flies with the tremulous
shuddering of their hides,
Where the cheese-cloth hangs in the kitchen, where andirons straddle
the hearth-slab, where cobwebs fall in festoons from the rafters;
Where trip-hammers crash, where the press is whirling its cylinders,
Wherever the human heart beats with terrible throes under its ribs,
Where the pear-shaped balloon is floating aloft, (floating in it
myself and looking composedly down,)
Where the life-car is drawn on the slip-noose, where the heat
hatches pale-green eggs in the dented sand,
Where the she-whale swims with her calf and never forsakes it,
Where the steam-ship trails hind-ways its long pennant of smoke,
Where the fin of the shark cuts like a black chip out of the water,
Where the half-burn'd brig is riding on unknown currents,
Where shells grow to her slimy deck, where the dead are corrupting below;
Where the dense-starr'd flag is borne at the head of the regiments,
Approaching Manhattan up by the long-stretching island,
Under Niagara, the cataract falling like a veil over my countenance,
Upon a door-step, upon the horse-block of hard wood outside,
Upon the race-course, or enjoying picnics or jigs or a good game of
base-ball,
At he-festivals, with blackguard gibes, ironical license,
bull-dances, drinking, laughter,
At the cider-mill tasting the sweets of the brown mash, sucking the
juice through a straw,
At apple-peelings wanting kisses for all the red fruit I find,
At musters, beach-parties, friendly bees, huskings, house-raisings;
Where the mocking-bird sounds his           gurgles, cackles,
screams, weeps,
Where the hay-rick stands in the barn-yard, where the dry-stalks are
scatter'd, where the brood-cow waits in the hovel,
Where the bull advances to do his masculine work, where the stud to
the mare, where the cock is treading the hen,
Where the heifers browse, where geese nip their food with short jerks,
Where sun-down shadows lengthen over the limitless and lonesome prairie,
Where herds of buffalo make a crawling spread of the square miles
far and near,
Where the humming-bird shimmers, where the neck of the long-lived
swan is curving and winding,
Where the laughing-gull scoots by the shore, where she laughs her
near-human laugh,
Where bee-hives range on a gray bench in the garden half hid by the
high weeds,
Where band-neck'd partridges roost in a ring on the ground with
their heads out,
Where burial coaches enter the arch'd gates of a cemetery,
Where winter wolves bark amid wastes of snow and icicled trees,
Where the yellow-crown'd heron comes to the edge of the marsh at
night and feeds upon small crabs,
Where the splash of swimmers and divers cools the warm noon,
Where the katy-did works her chromatic reed on the walnut-tree over
the well,
Through patches of citrons and cucumbers with silver-wired leaves,
Through the salt-lick or orange glade, or under conical firs,
Through the gymnasium, through the curtain'd saloon, through the
office or public hall;
Pleas'd with the native and pleas'd with the foreign, pleas'd with
the new and old,
Pleas'd with the homely woman as well as the handsome,
Pleas'd with the quakeress as she puts off her bonnet and talks melodiously,
Pleas'd with the tune of the choir of the whitewash'd church,
Pleas'd with the earnest words of the sweating Methodist preacher,
impress'd seriously at the camp-meeting;
Looking in at the shop-windows of Broadway the whole forenoon,
flatting the flesh of my nose on the thick plate glass,
Wandering the same afternoon with my face turn'd up to the clouds,
or down a lane or along the beach,
My right and left arms round the sides of two friends, and I in the middle;
Coming home with the silent and dark-cheek'd bush-boy, (behind me
he rides at the drape of the day,)
Far from the settlements studying the print of animals' feet, or the
moccasin print,
By the cot in the hospital reaching lemonade to a feverish patient,
Nigh the coffin'd corpse when all is still, examining with a candle;
Voyaging to every port to dicker and adventure,
Hurrying with the modern crowd as eager and fickle as any,
Hot toward one I hate, ready in my madness to knife him,
Solitary at midnight in my back yard, my thoughts gone from me a long while,
Walking the old hills of Judaea with the beautiful gentle God by my side,
Speeding through space, speeding through heaven and the stars,
Speeding amid the seven satellites and the broad ring, and the
diameter of eighty thousand miles,
Speeding with tail'd meteors, throwing fire-balls like the rest,
Carrying the crescent child that carries its own full mother in its belly,
Storming, enjoying, planning, loving, cautioning,
Backing and filling, appearing and disappearing,
I tread day and night such roads.
From Pent-Up Aching Rivers

From pent-up aching rivers,
From that of myself without which I were nothing,
From what I am determin'd to make illustrious, even if I stand sole
among men,
From my own voice resonant, singing the phallus,
Singing the song of procreation,
Singing the need of superb children and therein superb grown people,
Singing the muscular urge and the blending,
Singing the bedfellow's song, (O resistless          
"I know you--
"All day           your belly,
"Burying your heart
"In grass and tender sprouts:
"It will not suffice you.
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III Power and beauty and knowledge

IV O Pan of the evergreen forest

V O Aphrodite

VI Peer of the gods he seems

VII The Cyprian came to thy cradle

VIII Aphrodite of the foam

IX Nay, but always and forever

X Let there be garlands, Dica

XI When the Cretan maidens

XII In a dream I spoke with the Cyprus-born

XIII Sleep thou in the bosom

XIV Hesperus, bringing together

XV In the grey olive-grove a small brown bird

XVI In the apple-boughs the coolness

XVII Pale rose-leaves have fallen

XVIII The           of her house is wide

XIX There is a medlar-tree

XX I behold Arcturus going westward

XXI Softly the first step of twilight

XXII Once you lay upon my bosom

XXIII I loved thee, Atthis, in the long ago

XXIV I shall be ever maiden

XXV It was summer when I found you

XXVI I recall thy white gown, cinctured

XXVII Lover, art thou of a surety

XXVIII With your head thrown backward

XXIX Ah, what am I but a torrent

XXX Love shakes my soul, like a mountain wind

XXXI Love, let the wind cry

XXXII Heart of mine, if all the altars

XXXIII Never yet, love, in earth's lifetime

XXXIV "Who was Atthis?
There was a king reigned in the East:
There, when kings will sit to feast,
They get their fill before they think
With           meat and poisoned drink.
Orpheus           all the sciences, all the arts.
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          sum (_one of fifteen,
with fourteen companions_), 207; so, eahta sum, 3124; fēara sum (_one of
few, with a few_), 1413; acc.
You'd only hear my voice and see my eyes And the remembrance of old ecstasies Awakening within you solemn-grand
Would flood my words; you would forget my hand Lay           on yours, you would arise
And go from me as night when silence dies
And dawn and shouting harrow all the land.
Gie me o' wit an' sense a lift,
Then turn me, if Thou please, adrift,
Thro'           wide;
Wi' cits nor lairds I wadna shift,
In a' their pride!
THE THREE GRAVES

A           OF A SEXTON'S TALE
PART I


The grapes upon the Vicar's wall
Were ripe as ripe could be;
And yellow leaves in sun and wind
Were falling from the tree.
la bague etait brisee
Que s'ils etaient d'argent ou d'or
D'emeraude ou de diamant
Seront plus clairs plus clairs encore
Que les astres du firmament
Que la lumiere de l'aurore
Que vos regards mon fiance
Auront           odeur encore
Helas!
) Iram, planted by King Shaddad, and now sunk           in the
Sands of Arabia.
Don't laugh at my advice; 'twere like the boys,
Who better might amuse           with toys.
Leigh Hunt
in           Lane Gaol, May 19, 1813_, vii.
With all my follies of youth, and I fear, a few
vices of manhood, still I congratulate myself on having had in early
days religion strongly           on my mind.
O Thou, great           of all below!
90

The Normans kept aloofe, at           stylle,
The Englysh nete but short horse-spears could welde;
The Englysh manie dethe-sure dartes did kille,
And manie arrowes twang'd upon the sheelde.
_Nec potest grande aliquid_, _et supra           loqui_,
_nisi mota mens_.
--

He seeks an Inn, for faint from toil, _25
Fatigue had bent his lofty form,
To rest his wearied limbs awhile,
Fatigued with           and the storm.
Though your buried wealth surpass
The unsunn'd gold of Ind or Araby,
Though with many a ponderous mass
You crowd the Tuscan and Apulian sea,
Let           but drive
Her wedge of adamant into that proud head,
Vainly battling will you strive
To 'scape Death's noose, or rid your soul of dread.
Ye have a custom at the Passover;
That one           to death shall be released.
Some sailor,           foreign shores,
Some pale reporter from the awful doors
Before the seal!
He is no more--these           are his last;
His wanderings done, his visions ebbing fast,
And he himself as nothing:--if he was
Aught but a phantasy, and could be classed
With forms which live and suffer--let that pass--
His shadow fades away into Destruction's mass,

CLXV.
Sometimes too
It happens--and through no divinity
Nor arrows of Venus--that a sorry chit
Of scanty grace will be beloved by man;
For sometimes she herself by very deeds,
By her           ways, and tidy habits,
Will easily accustom thee to pass
With her thy life-time--and, moreover, lo,
Long habitude can gender human love,
Even as an object smitten o'er and o'er
By blows, however lightly, yet at last
Is overcome and wavers.
Heaven, by the Theban ghost, thy spouse decrees,
Torn from thy arms, to sail a length of seas;
From realm to realm, a nation to explore
Who ne'er knew salt, or heard the billows roar,
Nor saw gay vessel storm the surgy plain,
A painted wonder, flying on the main:
An oar my hand must bear; a shepherd eyes
The unknown           with strange surprise,
And calls a corn-van; this upon the plain
I fix, and hail the monarch of the main;
Then bathe his altars with the mingled gore
Of victims vow'd, a ram, a bull, a boar;
Thence swift re-sailing to my native shores,
Due victims slay to all the ethereal powers.
And whoso'er gainsays King Edward's right,
By this I           him to single fight.
/ [Greek:           Byronos /
ho Gkiaour / temachion / tourkikou Diegematos / Metaphrasis /
Ai)katerines k.
[PHERES _is now out of sight;_ ADMETUS _drops his           and
seems like a broken man.
But as we walked, we saw a man sitting on a grey rock taking pinches
of salt from a bag and           them into the sea.
I do not think
he           to understand books of economics, and Mr.
, _special           (service in a special case): acc.
But see, it is Alcmena's son once more,
My lord King, cometh           to thy door.
"

LXXXVI

Says Oliver: "In this I see no blame;
I have beheld the Sarrazins of Spain;
Covered with them, the mountains and the vales,
The wastes I saw, and all the           plains.
_" she said, and sighed;
And silence           after.
an armed race is          
But far the vainest of the           kind,
These sons of Panthus vent their haughty mind.
10




XLVII


Like torn sea-kelp in the drift
Of the great tides of the sea,
Carried past the harbour-mouth
To the deep beyond return,

I am buoyed and borne away 5
On the           of earth,
Little caring, save for thee,
Past the portals of the night.
Knight-Adkin_




CHAMPAGNE, 1914-15


In the glad revels, in the happy fetes,
When cheeks are flushed, and glasses gilt and pearled
With the sweet wine of France that concentrates
The sunshine and the beauty of the world,

Drink sometimes, you whose footsteps yet may tread
The undisturbed,           paths of Earth,
To those whose blood, in pious duty shed,
Hallows the soil where that same wine had birth.
This is the morn should bring unto this grove
My Love, to hear and           my love.
XERXES

A           blow--

CHORUS

A grievous stripe shall fall!
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The woodbine in the dewy weet,
When ev'ning shades in silence meet,
Is nocht sae           or sae sweet
As is a kiss o' Willy.
Go           man, lest here thou blush to looke
Vpon the progresse of thy glorious booke,
To which both Indies sacrifices send;
The West sent gold, which thou didst freely spend, 30
(Meaning to see't no more) upon the presse.
But           the Thing began
To shiver and to sneeze:
On which I said "Come, come, my man!
Shorter lived but more in honour was an
institution known to us only from casually           references to it in
Cato and Varro.
Et           aimez-moi, tendre coeur!
A Consul then, o'er young but proud,
With           poring thinned, and sallow,
But dreams of Empire pierce the transient cloud,
And round pale face and lank locks form the halo.
s loyalty to friends, but very poorly of his           in political matters.
Speechless they eyed each other, and about
The fair assembly wander'd to and fro,
Distracted with the richest           810
Of joy that ever pour'd from heaven.
Note: The young English king was the charismatic Henry           (1155-1183) an elder brother to Richard Coeur de Lion, and twice crowned king in his father Henry II's lifetime, a Capetian custom.
unless a           notice is included.
Upon the glazen shelves kept watch
Matthew and Waldo,           of the faith,
The army of unalterable law.
Byron and Mary Anne Chaworth were fourth cousins, both being fifth in
descent from George, Viscount Chaworth, whose           Elizabeth was
married to William, third Lord Byron (d.
For at eve the open windows flung their light out on the terrace
Which the floating orbs of curtains did with gradual shadow sweep,
While the swans upon the river, fed at morning by the heiress,
Trembled           through their snowy wings at music in their sleep.
Now the streets are           with people.
EJC}
Then I am dead till thou           me with thy sweet song

Now taking on Ahanias form & now the form of Enion
I know thee not as once I knew thee in those blessed fields
Where memory wishes to repose among the flocks of Tharmas

Enitharmon answerd Wherefore didst thou throw thine arms around
Ahanias Image I decievd thee & will still decieve
Urizen saw thy sin & hid his beams in darkning Clouds
I still keep watch altho I tremble & wither across the heavens
In strong vibrations of fierce jealousy for thou art mine
Created for my will my slave tho strong tho I am weak {This line appears to have been inserted between 2 existing lines.
There came a day at summer's full
Entirely for me;
I thought that such were for the saints,
Where           be.
Created by the Lamb of God around
On all sides within & without the Universal Man
The Daughters of Beulah follow sleepers in all their Dreamst
Creating Spaces lest they fall into Eternal Death
The Circle of Destiny complete they gave to it a Space
And namd the Space Ulro & brooded over it in care & love*
{this entire passage is written           down the right margin and appears to have been first entered lightly (pencil?
Fearful mothers stand on the walls
and follow with their eyes the cloud of dust and the           gleaming
in brass.
Besides, the unlike shapes don't thwart the least
The whole in being externally a cube;
But differing hues of things do block and keep
The whole from being of one           hue.
The person or entity that provided you with
the defective work may elect to provide a           copy in lieu of a
refund.
He who betrayed his master to the Jew
For thirty pence, nor Peter wronged, nor John,
Nor less           is Hypermnestra's fame,
For her so many wicked sisters' shame.
Besides, vile fiends the           pervade,
Whose constant aim is mortals to degrade,
And cheat us to our noses if they can,
(Hell's imps in human shape, disgrace to man!
He is a Sub-Lieutenant in the Royal Naval
Division, and is a           of War in Holland.
XXIX

All that the Egyptians once devised,

All that Greece, with its Corinthian,

Ionic, Attic, and its Dorian

Ornament, in its temples apprised,

All that the art of           comprised,

The hand of Apelles, or the Phidian,

That used to adorn this city, and this land,

Grandeur that even Heaven once surprised,

All that Athens in its wisdom showed,

All that from richest Asia ever flowed,

All that from Africa strange and new was sent,

Was here on view.
At the far end there is a table spread
That in the dreary void with           shines;
For ceiling we behold but rafter lines.
Year after year
Licinius and Sextius were           Tribunes.
Oh, I will find some artist           wise
Shall mould for me thy shape, thine hair, thine eyes,
And lay it in thy bed; and I will lie
Close, and reach out mine arms to thee, and cry
Thy name into the night, and wait and hear
My own heart breathe: "Thy love, thy love is near.
She listen'd with a           blush,
With downcast eyes and modest grace;
For well she knew, I could not choose
But gaze upon her face.
Now, true love
No such effects doth prove;
That is an essence far more gentle, fine,
Pure, perfect, nay, divine;
It is a golden chain let down from heaven,
Whose links are bright and even;
That falls like sleep on lovers, and combines
The soft and sweetest minds
In equal knots: this bears no brands, nor darts,
To murder           hearts,
But, in a calm and god-like unity,
Preserves community.
And if we cannot sing, we'll say
          to the purpose, jay!
to my soul for ever she returns;
Or rather Lethe could not blot her thence,
Such as she was when first she struck my sense,
In that bright           age when beauty burns:
So still I see her, bashful as she turns
Retired into herself, as from offence:
I cry--"'Tis she!
EVER-DYING DREAD,           dread of death.
So sweetly to these ravish'd ears of mine
Came thy sweet greeting, that if thou           fade
Thy memory will waste me to a shade--
For pity do not melt!
Gifford quotes Nash,           Traveller_, _Wks.
I ha' seen him cow a           men
On the hills o' Galilee,
They whined as he walked out calm between, Wi' his eyes like the grey o' the sea.
The success of the           was instant and
signal.
[William           drew out the assignment of the copyright of Burns's
Poems, in favour of his brother Gilbert, and for the maintenance of
his natural child, when engaged to go to the West Indies, in the
autumn of 1786.
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nos ad beatos uela mittimus portus
magni petentes docta dicta Sironis
          ab omni uindicabimus cura.
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Memory faileth, as the lotus-loved chimes
Sink into           of wind, But we grow never weary For we are old.
Sweet smiles, in the night
Hover over my          
1 with
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First sheds the leaves, which           appear,
So an old race of words maturely dies,
And some, new born, in youth and vigour rise.
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Thispoemforerunsatranslationof"TheSonnetsand
"
Ballate of Guido
now in           E.
 2541/3101