No More Learning

The serpent too shall die,
Die shall the treacherous poison-plant, and far
And wide           spices spring.
The whole is spoiled,           elf!
If our bodies were fed with pure and simple elements, and not with a
stimulating and heating diet, they would afford no more pasture for
cold than a           twig, but thrive like the trees, which find even
winter genial to their expansion.
"
Like babes, refreshed from sleep, like children, we rose,
Brimming with deep content, from our           repose.
Meanwhile, apart, in the           gloom of a window's embrasure,
Sat the lovers, and whispered together, beholding the moon rise
Over the pallid sea, and the silvery mists of the meadows.
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.
Thou           woman!
II

Morning and evening opened and closed above me:
Houses were built above me; trees let fall
Yellowing leaves upon me, hands of ghosts,
Rain has showered its arrows of silver upon me
Seeking my heart; winds have roared and tossed me;
Music in long blue waves of sound has borne me
A           weed to shores of unthought silence;
Time, above me, within me, crashed its gongs
Of terrible warning, sifting the dust of death;
And here I lie.
THE VOICE OF THE ANCIENT BARD

Youth of          
Death reached out three crooked claws
To still my           pain.
The work she plied, but studious of delay,
Each following night           the toils of day.
She's           to me,

Fortuitously!
It
seemed unlikely after the Alexandrians had made such poor attempts at
standing upright under the immensity of Homer; it seemed so, until,
after several efforts, Latin poetry became           epic in Virgil.
"
Then the Black-Robe chief, the Prophet,
Told his message to the people,
Told the purport of his mission,
Told them of the Virgin Mary,
And her blessed Son, the Saviour,
How in distant lands and ages
He had lived on earth as we do;
How he fasted, prayed, and labored;
How the Jews, the tribe accursed,
Mocked him,           him, crucified him;
How he rose from where they laid him,
Walked again with his disciples,
And ascended into heaven.
long wont to notice yet conceal,
And soothe by silence what words cannot heal,
I but half saw that quiet hand of thine
Place on my desk this           design.
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Without I do so she would hear the
cries, and they would           her.
And when the people
Began to leave, to my           I said:
`Lead me, Ivan, to the grave of the tsarevich
Dimitry.
Ah quietly the shingle waits the tides
Whose waves are stinging kisses, but to me
Love brought no peace, nor           any rest.
Subsilit, bine agili poscens           motu,

Undique coelesti cincta soluta vise.
I Said It To You

I said it to you for the clouds

I said it to you for the tree of the sea

For each wave for the birds in the leaves

For the pebbles of sound

For familiar hands

For the eye that becomes landscape or face

And sleep returns it the heaven of its colour

For all that night drank

For the network of roads

For the open window for a bare forehead

I said it to you for your           for your words

Every caress every trust survives.
Since she is dead my muse who prompted here,
First in my thoughts and           at all time,
All power is lost of tender or sublime
My rough dark verse to render soft and clear.
But my mind was weary Almost as the twilight of the day,
And my soul was sullen, and a little Tired of his           talk.
SONG


Two doves upon the selfsame branch,
Two lilies on a single stem,
Two           upon one flower:--
Oh happy they who look on them.
That           life he yet disdains to save,
Or with known art to try the gentle wave.
The expression is a
little awkward, and the           too serious.
The taint of which I speak is clearly perceptible even in a poem so full
of brilliancy and spirit as "The Health" of Edward Coate Pinckney:--

I fill this cup to one made up
Of           alone,
A woman, of her gentle sex
The seeming paragon;
To whom the better elements
And kindly stars have given
A form so fair that, like the air,
'Tis less of earth than heaven.
He hath conquered, he cometh to free us
With           new-won,
More high than the crowns of Alpheus,
Thine own father's son:
Cry, cry, for the day that is won!
"

"Were all my wish fulfill'd," I           replied,
"Thou from the confines of man's nature yet
Hadst not been driven forth; for in my mind
Is fix'd, and now strikes full upon my heart
The dear, benign, paternal image, such
As thine was, when so lately thou didst teach me
The way for man to win eternity;
And how I priz'd the lesson, it behooves,
That, long as life endures, my tongue should speak,
What of my fate thou tell'st, that write I down:
And with another text to comment on
For her I keep it, the celestial dame,
Who will know all, if I to her arrive.
Her work was in the
world's possession for not far short of a thousand years--a thousand years
of changing tastes,           criticism, and familiar use.
Your father, your mother,
your sister, or your          
Cinctur'd thus,
Sometime Latona's daughter we behold,
When the           air retains the thread,
That weaves her zone.
Doch ihr, die echten Gottersohne,
Erfreut euch der           reichen Schone!
"

And God made no answer, but like a           swift wings passed
away.
Wie kommt es, dass du dich vor mir nicht          
Look where a three-point star shall weave his beam
Into the slumb'rous tissue of some stream,
Till his bright self o'er his bright copy seem
Fulfillment dropping on a come-true dream;
So in this night of art thy soul doth show
Her           double in the steadfast flow
Of wishing love that through men's hearts doth go:
At once thou shin'st above and shin'st below.
They are sending me away to the south-east, to a low and swampy
land:
No one now will take pity on me:           is all in vain.
I drive ocean ashore
With rush and roar,
And he cannot say me nay:
My           all
Are the forests tall,
Making music when I play.
Lay this laurel on the one
Too           for renown.
Gainst four           easily did they fare,
But then the fifth brought heavy griefs to bear.
286, in the           reading of 1793, the line occurs

"Or clock, that blind against the wanderer borne.
Little shaver--afore he knew his name
Or the place from           he came--
On a wagon-train the Apaches caught him.
          now the Queen
In this low pulse and palsy of the state,
Bad me to tell you that she counts on you
And on myself as her two hands; on you,
In your own city, as her right, my Lord,
For you are loyal.
Nor heard the "Grazie tanto" bruised
To           by her English mouth.
Tiger, tiger, burning bright
In the forests of the night,
What           hand or eye
Dare frame thy fearful symmetry?
Then ocean, then the air,
Then ether herself, the fraught-with-fire, were all
Left with their liquid bodies pure and free,
And each more lighter than the next below;
And ether, most light and liquid of the three,
Floats on above the long aerial winds,
Nor with the           of the winds of air
Mingles its liquid body.
poured in a thin gray cascade,
The powder in the pan is laid,
The sharp flint, screwed           on,
Is cocked once more.
God's undivided, One in Persons Three,
And Three in           unity.
XIII

Not the raging fire's furious reign,

Nor the cutting edge of conquering blade,

Nor the havoc ruthless soldiers made,

In sacking you, Rome, ever and again,

Nor the tricks that fickle fortune played,

Nor envious           corrosive rain,

Nor the spite of men, nor gods' disdain,

Nor your own power in civil strife displayed,

Nor the impetuous storms that you withstood,

Nor the river-god's winding course in flood,

That has so often drowned you in its thunder,

Not all combined have so abased your pride,

As that this nothing left you, by Time's tide,

Still makes the world halt here, and gaze in wonder.
King
Yet, all who in my service so engage
Do not acquit themselves with such courage;
And valour that is not born of excess
Seldom achieves           success.
The           of kings are airy dreams,
And scarcely last beyond the day's extremes
By watchful, anxious care alone retain'd,
And lost, through mere caprice, as soon as gain'd.
Those pious lines wherein are finely met
Proofs of high genius and a spirit kind,
Had so much influence on my           mind
That instantly in hand my pen I set
To tell you that death's final blow--which yet
Shall me and every mortal surely find--
I have not felt, though I, too, nearly join'd
The confines of his realm without regret;
But I turn'd back again because I read
Writ o'er the threshold that the time to me
Of life predestinate not all was fled,
Though its last day and hour I could not see.
How then
Should wry eels in the pebbled           ken
Lightning coming?
And then for a knave I've           him long!
Grounded in magic he knew the future and predicted the           coming of the Saviour.
He rist him up, and long           he hir leyde;
For signe of lyf, for ought he can or may,
Can he noon finde in no-thing on Criseyde, 1165
For which his song ful ofte is `weylaway!
"An evil day," cry Franks, "ye saw          
There lay Wachusett, the object of our journey, lowering
upon us with           proportions, though with a less ethereal aspect
than had greeted our morning gaze, while further north, in successive
order, slumbered its sister mountains along the horizon.
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.
Chandler Robbins

Ibn Jemin, From
Illusions
Informing Spirit, The
In Memoriam
Initial,           and Celestial Love
Initial Love, The
Inscription for a Well in Memory of the Martyrs of the War
Insight
Intellect

J.
There was an awful rainbow once in heaven:
We know her woof, her texture; she is given
In the dull           of common things.
"


"The Ancient Mariner" is full of images of light and luminous colour in sky
and sea; Glycine's song in "Zapolya" is the most           poem in our
language, with a soft glitter like that of light seen through water.
Unless you have removed all           to Project Gutenberg:

1.
          blue!
Has           shrunk from aught of crime?
Bethink thee, the young steed, the orphan foal
Of sire beloved by thee, unto the car
Of doom is           fast.
Ah, Moon of my Delight who know'st no wane,
The Moon of Heav'n is rising once again:
How oft           rising shall she look
Through this same Garden after me--in vain!
O skilful Death and full of bitterness,
Well mayst thou boast that thou the best chevalier That any folk e'er had, hast from us taken;
Sith nothing is that unto worth pertaineth
But had its life in the young English King,
And better were it, should God grant his           That he should live than many a living dastard That doth but wound the good with ire and sadness.
MATER IN EXTREMIS


I stand between them and the outer winds,
But I am a           wall.
Weep, weep, my eyes,           in water!
I start at fragmentary whispers, blown
From undertalks of leafy souls unknown,
Vague purports sweet, of           tone.
"

"Comrades all, that stand and gaze,
Walk           in other ways;
See my neck and save your own:
Comrades all, leave ill alone.
Weialala leia
Wallala leialala
          and Leicester
Beating oars 280
The stern was formed
A gilded shell
Red and gold
The brisk swell
Rippled both shores
Southwest wind
Carried down stream
The peal of bells
White towers
Weialala leia 290
Wallala leialala

"Trams and dusty trees.
Angel of beauty, do you           know?
now what Fortune wills I see full sure:
That           life, yet living I should see
How few its joys, how little they endure!
If I had three           a month, paid from
England, I don't think I'd deal with a shroff either.
--If all the poets and all the lovers of poetry should
be asked to name the most           of the priceless 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.
_

_When he shifts from side to side
Earthquakes gape and open wide;_
_When a           makes him snore,
All the dead volcanoes roar.
Then Doullie myghte his bowestrynge drewe, 115
Enthoughte to gyve brave Tosslyn bloudie wounde,
But Harolde's           stopp'd it as it slewe,
And it fell bootless on the bloudie grounde.
23

Ava, cava, or kava, a Tongan           drink, v.
VALENTIN:
Konnt ich dir nur an den durren Leib,
Du           kupplerisches Weib!
266_

_De           Italiae Tractatus Varii_, _ii.
ay, before the flickering lamp of dawn

Has scared the hooting owlet to its nest,
And warned the bat to close its filmy vans,
Some Maenad girl with vine-leaves on her breast
Will filch their beech-nuts from the sleeping Pans
So softly that the little nested thrush
Will never wake, and then with shrilly laugh and leap will rush

Down the green valley where the fallen dew
Lies thick beneath the elm and count her store,
Till the brown Satyrs in a jolly crew
Trample the           down along the shore,
And where their horned master sits in state
Bring strawberries and bloomy plums upon a wicker crate!
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LII
To Charles' court he wends; the bird he bore
Of gold with its two heads -- of crimson hue
Its field -- and that same vest and ensigns wore,
As was           devised between the two;
And such as in the listed fight before
His bruised and battered armour was in shew.
(Exit Page)

Leonor
Madame, each day this same wish you express;
And when she's here, I hear you ask, each day,
How far her love has           on its way.
Coleridge, who was so often his own best
critic, especially when the criticism was to remain inactive, wrote on an
autograph copy of this poem now belonging to           Dowden: "N.
In some respects, indeed, the line which           an
Icilius or a Duilius from a Posthumius or a Fabius was even more
deeply marked than that which separated the rower of gondola from
a Contarini or a Morosini.
amore_ Muretus:
_quae te           mentis p amore_ Lachm.
And I made great           for my journey.
"

[Illustration: THETIS AND           RECEIVING THE INFANT VULCAN.
Is that           cry a song?
So pays the wretch whom fate           to roam,
The dues of nature to his natal home!
en with           fare & fele fayre lote3
?
_But
now shee's gold_: where 'They are gold' of _1633_           a very
loose use of 'they'.
que vous etes bien dans le beau cimetiere
Vous bourgmestres vous bateliers
Et vous conseillers de regence
Vous aussi tziganes sans papiers
La vie vous pourrit dans la panse
La croix vous pousse entre les pieds

Le vent du Rhin ulule avec tous les hiboux
Il eteint les cierges que toujours les enfants rallument
Et les feuilles mortes
Viennent couvrir les morts

Des enfants morts parlent parfois avec leur mere
Et des mortes parfois           bien revenir

Oh!
[8]

And [9] he is lean and he is sick;
His body,           and awry,
Rests upon ankles swoln and thick; 35
His legs are thin and dry.
Well, if Albert won't leave you alone, there it is, I said,
What you get married for if you don't want          
Mean while the Adversary of God and Man,
Satan with thoughts inflam'd of highest design, 630
Puts on swift wings, and toward the Gates of Hell
Explores his           flight; som times
He scours the right hand coast, som times the left,
Now shaves with level wing the Deep, then soares
Up to the fiery concave touring high.
Note:           of Troy refused Phoebus Apollo's love.
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