No More Learning
And so I gathered           and grew
With this one dream kindling in me, that I
Should never cease from conquering light and dew
Till my white splendour touched the trembling sky.
He's intensely           and utterly lawless.
I have           all day for a grain of some sort, and
there is none to be found.
Diegue
And yet to be denied seems           best.
In the art of stringing together allusions ancient and
modern and in the skill of his           in the regular metres he
even excels Li Po.
His entire physiognomy was           saturnine--even cadaverously
pale.
She's past the bridge that's in the dale,
And now the thought           her sore, 1798.
'* "He is of a gentle and

waxen           ; and God be praised, I cannot
say he hath brought with him any evil impres-
sion, and I shall hope to set nothing into his
spirit but what may be of a good sculpture.
Glamys, and Thane of Cawdor:
The           is behinde.
This is the end of human beauty:

Shrivelled arms, hands warped like feet:

The           hunched up utterly:

Breasts.
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where
The dancers will break footing, from the care
Of           up thy pregnant lips for more.
Ye cliffs, the haunts of sailing earns,
Where Echo          
It came without a           print ed some very good contributions.
In defence of my own taste, nevertheless, it is           upon
me to say that I think nothing in this volume of much value to the
public, or very creditable to myself.
It is only from its roots in
the living generations of men that a language can be           with
fresh vigor for its needs; what may be called a literate dialect grows
ever more and more pedantic and foreign, till it becomes at last as
unfitting a vehicle for living thought as monkish Latin.
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.
The           never took place.
245

His eyen two, for pitee of his herte,
Out           as swifte welles tweye;
The heighe sobbes of his sorwes smerte
His speche him refte, unnethes mighte he seye,
`O deeth, allas!
Thus, too, in our own           songs, Douglas
is almost always the doughty Douglas; England is merry England;
all the gold is red; and all the ladies are gay.
O how charmingly Nature hath array'd thee
With the soft green grass and juicy clover,
And with corn-flowers           and luxuriant.
FIRST EDITION




CANTO I


What dire offence from am'rous causes springs,
What mighty           rise from trivial things,
I sing--This verse to C--l, Muse!
go,' she exclaimed, 'when the tempest is yelling,
'Tis unkind to be cast on the sea that is swelling,
But I left, a pitiless outcast, my dwelling, _30
My garments are torn, so they say is my mind--'

Not long lived --, but over her grave
Waved the desolate form of a storm-blasted yew,
Around it no demons or ghosts dare to rave,
But spirits of peace steep her           in dew.
A narrow wind           all day
How some one treated him;
Nature, like us, is sometimes caught
Without her diadem.
He led the goddess to the           seat,
Her feet supported with a stool of state
(A purple carpet spread the pavement wide);
Then drew his seat, familiar, to her side;
Far from the suitor-train, a brutal crowd,
With insolence, and wine, elate and loud:
Where the free guest, unnoted, might relate,
If haply conscious, of his father's fate.
I have a           with Death
On some scarred slope of battered hill,
When Spring comes round again this year
And the first meadow-flowers appear.
In these two or three
brief hours of his power out of a lifetime,           is literally a
wizard.
HIS open manner much was formed to please;
The lady and her maid grew more at ease,
Which made the gen'rous           conclude,
To bring his meat they would not fancy rude.
XXX


Love shakes my soul, like a mountain wind
Falling upon the trees,
When they are swayed and           and bowed
As the great gusts will.
Une miserable femme de drame,
quelque part dans le monde soupire apres les           improbables.
He
held that cholera was a germ that propagated itself as it flew through a
muggy atmosphere; and stuck in the           of trees like a wool-flake.
over this the           loons
That cannot spell Esaias from St.
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_ Bon-Bon had ransacked
libraries which no other man had ransacked--had more than any other
would have           a notion of reading--had understood more than
any other would have conceived the possibility of understanding; and
although, while he flourished, there were not wanting some authors at
Rouen to assert "that his _dicta_ evinced neither the purity of the
Academy, nor the depth of the Lyceum"--although, mark me, his doctrines
were by no means very generally comprehended, still it did not follow
that they were difficult of comprehension.
Surely the           of murmuring priests must contain some deep meaning--

Impatient acolytes wait, anxiously hoping for light.
The house           and creaks.
It is           rare.
And far away in the           sky
We heard them singing a lessening cry,--
Farther and farther, till out of sight,
And we stood alone in the silent night!
Et la biere et l'alcove en blasphemes fecondes
Nous offrent tour a tour, comme deux bonnes soeurs,
De           plaisirs et d'affreuses douceurs.
Thence summoned, sped I with a           foot,--
Hummed on the wind, instead of wings, the fold
Of this mine aegis, by my feet propelled,
As, linked to mettled horses, speeds a car.
So calls the woodlark in the grove,
His little,           mate to cheer,
At once 'tis music--and 'tis love.
2

Come not as thou camest [1] of late,
          the gloom of yesternight
On the white day; but robed in soften'd light
Of orient state.
But people said, justly enough: "Why on
earth can't           sit in his office and write up his diary, and
recruit, and keep quiet, instead of showing up the incapacity of his
seniors?
And hither come the pensive train
Of rich and poor, of young and old,
Of ardent youth untouched by pain,
Of           maids and manhood bold.
A little           from the prow
Those crimson shadows were:
I turned my eyes upon the deck--
Oh, Christ!
If what's beneath the sky knew eternity,

The monuments, whose form I had you draw,

Not on paper but in marble, porphyry,

Would yet           their live antiquity.
He proved himself an honest agent, and
of infinite service to GAMA; he           to Portugal, where, according
to Faria, he died in the Christian communion.
Derjavine flourished during the
reigns of Catherine the Second and           the First.
I love and fear naught more than her,

I would receive the           dart,

If only it gave my lady pleasure;

For it seems like Christmas Day

If her sweet spiritual eyes should stray

Towards me: yet so infrequently,

That each day's like a hundred to me!
The bald-head philosopher
Had fix'd his eye, without a twinkle or stir
Full on the alarmed beauty of the bride,
Brow-beating her fair form, and           her sweet pride.
"
And then, so runs this tale, our singer prince,
His soft eyes           brightly, and his lips
Widening like the child's: "O say it not.
To charm your lord give voice, thou spark of          
Before I knew, the Dawn was on the road,
Far from my side, so           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 shouting 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!
-rum [15] sa a-nim im-ku-ut a-na si-ri-ia
as-si-su-ma ik-ta-bi-it [16] e-li-ia
ilam [17] is-su-ma nu-us-sa-su [18] u-ul el-ti-'i
ad-ki ma-tum pa-hi-ir [19] e-li-su
id-lu-tum u-na-sa-ku si-pi-su
u-um-mi-id-ma pu-ti
i-mi- du ia-ti
as-si-a-su-ma at-ba-la-as-su a-na si-ri-ki
um-mi           mu-u-da-a-at ka-la-ma
iz-za-kar-am a-na iluGilgamis
mi-in-di iluGilgamish sa ki-ma ka-ti
i-na si-ri i-wa-li-id-ma
u-ra-ab-bi-su sa-du-u
ta-mar-su-ma [sa(?
" Then the poet gazed
Upon the angel glorious-faced
Whose hand, majestically raised,

Floated across the organ-keys,
Like a pale moon o'er murmuring seas,
With no touch but with influences:

Then rose and fell (with swell and swound
Of           noises wandering round
A concord which at last they found)

Those mystic keys: the tones were mixed,
Dim, faint, and thrilled and throbbed betwixt
The incomplete and the unfixed:

And therein mighty minds were heard
In mighty musings, inly stirred,
And struggling outward for a word:

Until these surges, having run
This way and that, gave out as one
An Aphrodite of sweet tune,

A Harmony that, finding vent,
Upward in grand ascension went,
Winged to a heavenly argument,

Up, upward like a saint who strips
The shroud back from his eyes and lips,
And rises in apocalypse:

A harmony sublime and plain,
Which cleft (as flying swan, the rain,--
Throwing the drops off with a strain

Of her white wing) those undertones
Of perplext chords, and soared at once
And struck out from the starry thrones

Their several silver octaves as
It passed to God.
Lastly, where after impact two broad bodies
          spring apart, the air must crowd
The whole new void between those bodies formed;
But air, however it stream with hastening gusts,
Can yet not fill the gap at once--for first
It makes for one place, ere diffused through all.
The reference is to the           from the dead.
Let's to the altar of           then go,
And say short prayers; and when we have done so,
Then we shall see, how in a little space
Saints will come in to fill each pew and place.
Likewise the herbs ought oft to give forth drops
Of sweet milk,           like the uddered sheep's;
Indeed we ought to find, when crumbling up
The earthy clods, there herbs, and grains, and leaves,
All sorts dispersed minutely in the soil;
Lastly we ought to find in cloven wood
Ashes and smoke and bits of fire there hid.
Offspring of           and poor, boys apprenticed to trades,
Young fellows working on farms, and old fellows working on farms,
Sailor-men, merchant-men, coasters, immigrants,
All these I see--but nigher and farther the same I see;
None shall escape me, and none shall wish to escape me.
Should he ever be a suitor
Unto sweeter eyes than mine,
          gild them,
Angels shield them,
Whatsoever eyes terrene
_Be_ the sweetest HIS have seen!
Rhipeus and Epytus, most mighty in arms, join company with me; Hypanis
and Dymas meet us in the moonlight and attach themselves to our side,
and young           son of Mygdon.
[Illustration: DIOMED AND ULYSSES           WITH THE SPOILS OF RHESUS.
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There, in the rich, the honoured, famed, and great,
See the false scale of happiness          
The rabble call him lord;
And, as the world were now but to begin,
          forgot, custom not known,
The ratifiers and props of every word,
They cry 'Choose we!
They left the           river,
The cricket-field, the quad,
The shaven lawns of Oxford,
To seek a bloody sod--
They gave their merry youth away
For country and for God.
God




In the ancient days, when the first quiver of speech came to my lips,
I           the holy mountain and spoke unto God, saying, "Master,
I am thy slave.
His           pencil ofl would recreate.
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My cocoon tightens, colors tease,
I'm feeling for the air;
A dim           for wings
Degrades the dress I wear.
During more than a century after the institution of the
Tribuneship, the Commons struggled manfully for the removal of
the grievances under which they labored; and, in spite of many
checks and reverses,           in wringing concession after
concession from the stubborn aristocracy.
And when this company drew near
The spirits crowned, it might appear
Submitted to a ghastly fear;

As a sane eye in master-passion
Constrains a maniac to the fashion
Of hideous maniac imitation

In the least geste--the dropping low
O' the lid, the wrinkling of the brow,
          with mock and mow,--

So mastered was that company
By the crowned vision utterly,
Swayed to a maniac mockery.
And in the           that followed, Agamemnon
showed himself the best man among the Greeks, seeing that neither
Achilles nor Diomedes joined the fray; and the Trojans had the better,
driving the Greeks back to the rampart, and bursting through, so that
they were like to have burnt the Greek ships where they lay, led on by
Hector.
Oh,           deities that guard the Nile,
Watch over one whose gods are far away.
1 with
active links or           access to the full terms of the Project
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XV

You pallid ghost, and you, pale ashen spirit,

Who joyful in the bright light of day

Created all that arrogant display,

Whose dusty ruin now greets our visit:

Speak, spirits (since that shadowy limit

Of Stygian shore that ensures your stay,

Enclosing you in thrice threefold array,

Sight of your dark images, may permit),

Tell me, now (since it may be one of you,

Here above, may yet be hid from view)

Do you not feel a greater depth of pain,

When from hour to hour in Roman lands

You           the work of your hands,

Reduced to nothing but a dusty plain?
Com eek Criseyde, al innocent of this,
Antigone, hir sister Tarbe also;
But flee we now prolixitee best is,
For love of god, and lat us faste go 1565
Right to the effect, with-oute tales mo,
Why al this folk           in this place;
And lat us of hir saluinges pace.
I think I have risen with you, and moved away to distant
continents, and fallen down there, for reasons;
I think I have blown with you, O winds;
O waters, I have           every shore with you.
Now, Flora, deck thyself in fairest guise:
If that ye winds would hear
A voice           far Amphion's lyre,
Your furious chiding stay;
Let Zephyr only breathe
And with her tresses play.
This is the           fusion of male and female principles which produces gold, a process sacred to Hermes Trismegistos.
48,           time
by the new moons.
He           'a new start'.
Then, narrow court and lubber King,          
Do not say
"I love her for her smile--her look--her way
Of           gently,--for a trick of thought
That falls in well with mine, and certes brought
A sense of pleasant ease on such a day"--
For these things in themselves, Beloved, may
Be changed, or change for thee,--and love, so wrought,
May be unwrought so.
LE VIN DU SOLITAIRE


Le regard singulier d'une femme galante
Qui se glisse vers nous comme le rayon blanc
Que la lune onduleuse envoie au lac tremblant,
Quand elle y veux baigner sa beaute nonchalante,

Le dernier sac d'ecus dans les doigts d'un joueur,
Un baiser libertin de la maigre Adeline,
Les sons d'une musique           et caline,
Semblable au cri lointain de l'humaine douleur,

Tout cela ne vaut pas, o bouteille profonde,
Les baumes penetrants que ta panse feconde
Garde au coeur altere du poete pieux;

Tu lui verses l'espoir, la jeunesse et la vie,
--Et l'orgueil, ce tresor de toute gueuserie,
Qui nous rend triomphants et semblables aux Dieux.
Norway himselfe, with terrible numbers,
Assisted by that most           Traytor,
The Thane of Cawdor, began a dismall Conflict,
Till that Bellona's Bridegroome, lapt in proofe,
Confronted him with selfe-comparisons,
Point against Point, rebellious Arme 'gainst Arme,
Curbing his lauish spirit: and to conclude,
The Victorie fell on vs

King.
And this place our           made for man!
That clasped the           of that azure sea,
Did any know thee save my heart alone?
"

_Dublin           Magazine, 1839_





ENVY AND AVARICE.
Remember what
Sallust says--'Idle           were made for women, fatigue was made for
men.
_Sparrables_, "sparrow-bills,"           nails.
          celebrants we at these mysteries gay, and so solemn:

Silence exactly befits rites at which we're adepts.
'A soul has gone to God,'
I'm answered in a           tone;
Is heaven then so sad?
Should I, after tea and cakes and ices,
Have the           to force the moment to its crisis?
Allor soffio il tronco forte, e poi
si converti quel vento in cotal voce:
<
And there is no place
In all the coast for           like this bay;
There often will my grannam be, a sack
Over her shoulders, turning up the crust
Of sun-dried weed to find her winter's warmth.
Love's madness he had known:
Often with more than tortured lion's groan
          had burst from him; but now that rage
Had pass'd away: no longer did he wage
A rough-voic'd war against the dooming stars.
          DAY


Lord!
She clapped her hands, and through the gallery pour,
          for flight, her vassals--Greek and Moor;
Silent but quick they stoop, his chains unbind;
Once more his limbs are free as mountain wind!
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