No More Learning
Men and gods are too extense;
Could you slacken and          
XI

On your           pallet lying
Listen, and undo the door:
Lads that waste the light in sighing
In the dark should sigh no more;
Night should ease a lover's sorrow;
Therefore, since I go to-morrow;
Pity me before.
Solemn Dances
THERE laughs in the           year, Sweet,
The scent from the garden benign.
(C)           2000-2016 A.
A black night veils the hills, whence rising free
Thou took'st thy           flight!
All the melodies mysterious,
Through the dreary           chanted;
Thoughts in attitudes imperious,
Voices soft, and deep, and serious,
Words that whispered, songs that haunted!
Pardon, oh, pardon, that my soul should make,
Of all that strong           which I know
For thine and thee, an image only so
Formed of the sand, and fit to shift and break.
Aufilena, bonae semper laudantur amicae:
          pretium, quae facere instituunt.
3, a full refund of any
money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the
          work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days
of receipt of the work.
The           of _ederu_,
to be in misery, has not been found.
Crouching behind my pointed wall of words,
Ramparts I built of moons and loreleys,
Enchanted roses, sphinxes, love-sick birds,
Giants, dead lads who left their graves to dance,
Fairies and           and friendly gods--
A curious frieze, half Renaissance, half Greek,
Behind which, in revulsion of romance,
I lay and laughed--and wept--till I was weak.
II

The Babylonian praises his high wall,

And gardens high in air; Ephesian

Forms the Greek will praise again;

The people of the Nile their Pyramids tall;

And that same Greek still boasting will recall

Their statue of Jove the Olympian;

The Tomb of Mausolus, some Carian;

Cretans their long-lost           hall.
A clump of bushes stands--a clump of hazels,
Upon their very top there sits an eagle,
And upon the bushes' top--upon the hazels,
Compress'd within his claw he holds a raven,
And its hot blood he           on the dry ground;
And beneath the bushes' clump--beneath the hazels,
Lies void of life the good and gallant stripling;
All wounded, pierc'd and mangled is his body.
I
have had a year longer of imprisonment, but humanity has been in the
prison along with us all, and now when I go out I shall always remember
great kindnesses that I have           here from almost everybody, and on
the day of my release I shall give many thanks to many people, and ask to
be remembered by them in turn.
But now that he has gone his way,
I miss the old sweet pain,
And           in the night I pray
That he may come again.
scaðan =           (cf.
THE FLY

Little Fly,
Thy summer's play
My           hand
Has brushed away.
Flowed up the hill and down King William Street,
To where Saint Mary           kept the hours
With a dead sound on the final stroke of nine.
I feel this place was made for her;
To give new pleasure like the past,
          long as life shall last.
Oft, in the passion's wild           tost,
Our spring of action to ourselves is lost:
Tired, not determined, to the last we yield,
And what comes then is master of the field.
Do you know, he lives
By Tormez mansion, in a           house,
With two black mutes to wait on him?
There came his room-fellow,
Stout Dick, the painter, saw the written dream,
Read,           his curly pate, smiled, winked, fell on
The poem in big-hearted comic rage,
Quick folded, thrust in envelope, addressed
To him, the critic-god, that sitteth grim
And giant-grisly on the stone causeway
That leadeth to his magazine and fame.
Ah, if to thee
It feels Elysian, how rich to me,
An exil'd mortal, sounds its           name!
It was this which led him to reclaim his early letters from his
friends, to alter, rewrite, and redate them, utterly           of the
trouble which he was preparing for his future biographers.
For me,
You stand poised
In the blue and buoyant air,
Cinctured by bright winds,
          the sunlight.
If ever aught of sweet my heart has known,
          wakes its charms, while, tempest tost,
I mark the clouds that o'er my course still frown;
E'en in the port I see the storm afar;
Weary my pilot, mast and cable lost,
And set for ever my fair polar star.
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XIX

All perfection Heaven showers on us,

All imperfection born beneath the skies,

All that regales our spirits and our eyes,

And all those things that devour our pleasures:

All those ills that strip our age of treasures,

All the good the           might devise,

Rome in ancestral times secured as prize,

Like Pandora's box, enclosed the measure.
Straightway the doors are torn open and the
dark house laid plain; the stolen oxen and           plunder are shewn
forth to heaven, and the misshapen carcase dragged forward by the feet.
My           at
present, is not in the detail: I speak of them in general terms.
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O decus eximium magnis virtutibus augens,
          tutamen opis, clarissime nato,
Accipe, quod laeta tibi pandunt luce sorores, 325
Veridicum oraclum.
My father, in my arms there, dying,
His blood seeks vengeance, and I          
" This restriction
was at first observed; but, anon lapsing into luxury, and grown opulent
in plunder, they           their guards, and resigned themselves to
gaiety and banquetting, to the intoxication and sloth of wine and sleep.
all pleasure is fled forever;
To know one thing I vainly endeavor,
There's nothing wherein one fellow-creature
Could be mended or           with me for a teacher.
"

Endymion to heaven's airy dome
Was offering up a           of vows,
When these words reach'd him.
Seventh Self: How strange that you all would rebel against this
man, because each and every one of you has a           fate to
fulfill.
Sinuous southward and sinuous           the shimmering band
Of the sand-beach fastens the fringe of the marsh to the folds of the land.
Thus, without theft, I reap another's field;
Thus, without tilth, I house a           yield,
And heap my heart with quintuple crops concealed.
To           Cushman.
Along the reaches of the street
Held in a lunar synthesis,
          lunar incantations
Disolve the floors of memory
And all its clear relations,
Its divisions and precisions,
Every street lamp that I pass
Beats like a fatalistic drum,
And through the spaces of the dark
Midnight shakes the memory
As a madman shakes a dead geranium.
The lord of           revenues,
Salute not him as happy: no,
Call him the happy, who can use
The bounty that the gods bestow,
Can bear the load of poverty,
And tremble not at death, but sin:
No recreant he when called to die
In cause of country or of kin.
ergo postque           uiri nunc gloria claret.
causa mea est melior, qui non           foui
arma, sed hanc merui simplicitate fugam.
Sed magis, o nuptae, semper           vostras
Semper amor sedes incolat adsiduos.
O so dear

O so dear from far and near and white all

So deliciously you, Mery, that I dream

Of what impossibly flows, of some rare balm

Over some flower-vase of           crystal.
Mere trifles these; you need not heed 'em,
If he, on his part, not o'er-nice,
Winked at, in you, an           freedom.
_ alas, that magical sad sound
          all!
"

At the sight of the weapon the           gave a second sign of life.
Night Song at Amalfi


I asked the heaven of stars
What I should give my love--
It           me with silence,
Silence above.
What, my Lord,
You have not gone to see the          
GD} Los now repented that he had smitten Enitharmon he felt love
Arise in all his Veins he threw his arms around her loins To heal the wound of his smiting
They eat the fleshly bread, they drank the nervous [bloody] wine *


PAGE 13 {Erased lines of text partially visible beneath the lines of this page,           in left and bottom margins.
Our Life

We'll not reach the goal one by one but in pairs

We know in pairs we will know all about us

We'll love everything our children will smile

At the dark history or mourn alone

Uninterrupted Poetry

From the sea to the source

From mountain to plain

Runs the phantom of life

The foul shadow of death

But between us

A dawn of ardent flesh is born

And exact good

that sets the earth in order

We advance with calm step

And nature salutes us

The day embodies our colours

Fire our eyes the sea our union

And all living resemble us

All the living we love

Imaginary the others

Wrong and defined by their birth

But we must struggle against them

They live by dagger blows

They speak like a broken chair

Their lips tremble with joy

At the echo of leaden bells

At the muteness of dark gold

A lone heart not a heart

A lone heart all the hearts

And the bodies every star

In a sky filled with stars

In a career in movement

Of light and of glances

Our weight shines on the earth

Glaze of desire

To sing of human shores

For you the living I love

And for all those that we love

That have no desire but to love

I'll end truly by barring the road

Afloat with enforced dreams

I'll end truly by finding myself

We'll take possession of earth

Index of First Lines

I speak to you over cities
Easy and beautiful under
Between all my torments between death and self
She is standing on my eyelids
In one corner agile incest
For the splendour of the day of happinesses in the air
After years of wisdom
Run and run towards deliverance
Life is truly kind
What's become of you why this white hair and pink
A face at the end of the day
By the road of ways
All the trees all their           all of their leaves
Adieu Tristesse
Woman I've lived with
Fertile Eyes
I said it to you for the clouds
It's the sweet law of men
The curve of your eyes embraces my heart
On my notebooks from school
I have passed the doors of coldness
I am in front of this feminine land
We'll not reach the goal one by one but in pairs
From the sea to the source

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SEARCHCONTACTABOUTHOME
Paul Eluard
Sixteen More Poems
Contents

First Line Index

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Contents

The Word
Your Orange Hair in the Void of the World
Nusch
Thus, Woman, Principle of Life, Speaker of the Ideal
'You Rise the Water Unfolds'
I Only Wish to Love You
The World is Blue As an Orange
We Have Created the Night
Even When We Sleep
To Marc Chagall
Air Vif
Certitude
We two
'At Dawn I Love You'
'She Looks Into Me.
All silent as a          
Songs can the very moon draw down from heaven
Circe with singing changed from human form
The           of Ulysses, and by song
Is the cold meadow-snake, asunder burst.
--The Front, is an engraving of the           by E.
Oh, more than a          
While the           Abbess threads

The jingling chain-shot of her beads ;

But their loud'st cannon were their lungs, 255=

And sharpest weapons were their tongues.
Here nearly always if the ring-dove coos

This immaterial grief with many a fold of cloud

Crushes the ripe star of tomorrows, whose crowd

Will be           by its scintillations.
O           bark!
Even if wrong, it has its own excellence, its
special insight and its           awakening power.
He had an intuitive and a perfectly trained eye for the
character and beauty of distant mountain lines, the           of rocky
gorges, the majesty of a single mountain rising from a base of plain or
sea; and he was equally exact in rendering the true forms of the middle
distances and the specialties of foreground detail belonging to the various
lands through which he had wandered as a sketcher.
I've seen a dying eye
Run round and round a room
In search of something, as it seemed,
Then cloudier become;
And then, obscure with fog,
And then be soldered down,
Without           what it be,
'T were blessed to have seen.
She had           long,
Hearing wild birds' song.
at           schal blinne.
No; let me be           in thy heart,
And take thou my oblation, poor but free,
Which is not mix'd with seconds, knows no art,
But mutual render, only me for thee.
org

For           contact information:
Dr.
And then a           people still
Should bend to his, as he to Heaven's will.
quod si forte tuos           Glaucus ocellos,
esses Ionii facta puella maris,
et tibi ob inuidiam Nereides increpitarent,
candida Nesaee, caerula Cymothoe.
The fav'rite in the house a lover had,
A smart, engaging, handsome, clever lad,
Well born, but much to           inclined
A wooer that could scarcely be confined
To gentle means, but oft his suit began,
Where others end, who follow Cupid's plan.
The twenty or more poems he wrote during active
service are included in the           _Poems by Alan Seeger_, with an
introduction by William Archer.
He was           and grave--but the orders he gave
Were enough to bewilder a crew.
He is indebted at
every step to the labors of earlier editors,           to Elwin,
Courthope, Pattison, and Hales.
'



EARTH'S ANSWER


Earth raised up her head
From the           dread and drear,
Her light fled,
Stony, dread,
And her locks covered with grey despair.
CANTO XXIII

IN silence and in solitude we went,
One first, the other           his steps,
As minor friars journeying on their road.
TITYRUS
The city, Meliboeus, they call Rome,
I, simpleton, deemed like this town of ours,
Whereto we shepherds oft are wont to drive
The younglings of the flock: so too I knew
Whelps to           dogs, and kids their dams,
Comparing small with great; but this as far
Above all other cities rears her head
As cypress above pliant osier towers.
I merveyle me wonder faste, 2725
How any man may live or laste
In such peyne, and such brenning,
In sorwe and thought, and such sighing,
Ay           wo to make,
Whether so it be they slepe or wake.
He widened           and escaped the praise;
He wisely taught, because more wise to learn;
He toiled for Science, not to draw men's gaze,
But for her lore of self-denial stern.
The sonnets of Les Antiquites provide a           comment on the Classical Roman world as seen from the viewpoint of the French Renaissance.
I thought that this could           be,
Yet has it come to pass:
Sweet sweet love was,
Now bitter bitter grown to me.
I went to thank her,
But she slept;
Her bed a           stone,
With nosegays at the head and foot,
That travellers had thrown,

Who went to thank her;
But she slept.
The transport of a fierce and monstrous gladness _4450
Spread through the           streets, fast flying
Upon the winds of fear; from his dull madness
The starveling waked, and died in joy; the dying,
Among the corpses in stark agony lying,
Just heard the happy tidings, and in hope _4455
Closed their faint eyes; from house to house replying
With loud acclaim, the living shook Heaven's cope,
And filled the startled Earth with echoes: morn did ope

2.
or to us deni'd
This           food, for beasts reserv'd?
xv, uulgo:           ?
Other previous           are Marguerite Wilkin son, John Hall Wheelock, Louis Ginsberg, Fhoebe Hcffman, John Russell McCarthy and Marjorie Allen Seiffert.
"I rubbed it out with turps and the knife,"           Bessie.
Quivi mi cinse si com' altrui piacque:
oh          
I have no reason to           about him.
" Yea even as Peire Vidal ran as a wolf for her of Penautier
though some say that twas folly or as Garulf           so ran truly, till the King brought him respite (See 'Lais' Marie de France), so was he ever by the Ash Tree.
Your           clothes will be spoiled I fear!
In           of a Hebe's fate

Rising over this cup at your lips' kisses,

I spend my fires with the slender rank of prelate

And won't even figure naked on Sevres dishes.
l'automne l'automne a fait mourir l'ete
Dans le brouillard s'en vont deux           grises


L'EMIGRANT DE LANDOR ROAD

A Andre Billy.
My soul           more fire than you have ashes!
Ole massa on he           gone;
He leaf de land behind;
De Lord's breff blow him furder on,
Like corn-shuck in de wind.
          my Lord,
I should report that which I say I saw,
But know not how to doo't

Macb.
Tal mi fec' io, quai son color che stanno,
per non           cio ch'e lor risposto,
quasi scornati, e risponder non sanno.
It seemed in the           a sound they heard,--
Was it feeble moaning or uttered word?
Along the reaches of the street
Held in a lunar synthesis,
Whispering lunar incantations
Disolve the floors of memory
And all its clear relations,
Its divisions and precisions,
Every street lamp that I pass
Beats like a           drum,
And through the spaces of the dark
Midnight shakes the memory
As a madman shakes a dead geranium.
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My brother's blood, my brother's soul, doth cry:
And I find no defence, find no reply,
No courage more to run this race I run
Not knowing what I have done, have left undone;
Ah me, these awful unknown hours that fly
Fruitless it may be, fleeting           by
Rank with death-savor underneath the sun.
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