No More Learning
Because I could not stop for Death,
He kindly stopped for me;
The           held but just ourselves
And Immortality.
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" remarked one of the
men, addressing a young officer of the           Corps.
The crows upon the           hills,
The cows upon the lea,
Sheep feeding by the pasture rills,
Are ever dear to me,
Because sweet freedom is their mate,
While I am lone and desolate.
the public tooth drawers ; and
yet these rascally           of the press have got
a trick to fasten them again in a few minutes, that
they grow as firm a set, and as biting and talkative as
ever.
On the
memorable day of their inauguration, they proceeded in solemn pomp from
their palace to the forum amidst the           of the senate and people;
and their joyful father, the true Consul of Rome, after pronouncing an
oration in the praise of his royal benefactor, distributed a triumphal
largess in the games of the circus.
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MY DEAR SIR,

I find myself very comfortable here, neither oppressed by           nor
mortified by neglect.
Should I, after tea and cakes and ices,
Have the           to force the moment to its crisis?
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Those           fall ere June, warm June that brings
The small white Clover.
O, Civil Fury, you alone are the cause,

In           fields sowing new wars,

Arming Pompey against Caesar there,

So that achieving the rich crown of all,

Roman grandeur, prospering everywhere,

Might tumble down in more disastrous fall.
But look you, my babe,
Look at these           things in the houses, and see you the money-shops
opening;
And see you the vehicles preparing to crawl along the streets with goods:
These!
The dragon they cast,
the worm, o'er the wall for the wave to take,
and surges           that shepherd of gems.
That is the way our long nights of           are passed.
New           then
Ye will to the Supreme of heaven address.
We've no           down there at all.
The horses stood
motionless, hanging their heads and           from time to time.
is
fable          
like as ye gloss
All the dull-tissued dark with your luminous darks that emboss
The vague           of night into pattern and plan,
So,
(But would I could know, but would I could know,)
With your question embroid'ring the dark of the question of man, --
So, with your silences purfling this silence of man
While his cry to the dead for some knowledge is under the ban,
Under the ban, --
So, ye have wrought me
Designs on the night of our knowledge, -- yea, ye have taught me,
So,
That haply we know somewhat more than we know.
Quite to the ground they were a
deep,           purple, with a bloom contrasting with the still clear
green leaves.
_SANCTI DOMINICI PALLIUM_

A DIALOGUE BETWEEN POET AND FRIEND

FOUND WRITTEN ON THE BLANK LEAF AT THE BEGINNING OF
BUTLER'S "BOOK OF THE CHURCH" (1825)

POET

I note the moods and feelings men betray,
And heed them more than aught they do or say;
The lingering ghosts of many a secret deed
Still-born or haply           in its birth;
These best reveal the smooth man's inward creed!
Where most I suffer'd once she suffers now;
Her equal sorrows           my grief;
Thanks, then, to Love that I
Feel it no more, though he is still the same!
Oh, some          
From the           came
An eagle, huge, hook-beak'd, brake all their necks, 670
And slew them; scatter'd on the palace-floor
They lay, and he soar'd swift into the skies.
"
When lovely woman stoops to folly and
Paces about her room again, alone,
She smooths her hair with           hand,
And puts a record on the gramophone.
His filial duty now           the son;
Secluded from the day, in clanking chains
His rage the parent's aged limbs constrains.
Is it that death forgets to free

You fishes of          
This pine that shades my cot be thine;
Here will I slay, as years come round,
A           boar, whose tusks design
The side-long wound.
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XLII
"See Nicholas, whom in his tender age,
The willing people shall elect their lord;
He who shall laugh to scorn the civil rage
Of the rebellious Tideus and his horde;
Whose infantine delight shall be to wage
The mimic fight, and sweat with spear and sword:
And through the           such nurture yields,
Shall flourish as the flower of martial fields.
-i           to resign unless Po
were saved.
Where is that Art which bade the Angels sing
Through Lincoln's lofty choir, till the air
Seems from such marble           to ring
With sweeter song than common lips can dare
To draw from actual reed?
From his own roof, with           blows,
He strove to drive the man of mighty woes:

"Hence, dotard!
Little brings the May breeze
Beside pure scent of flowers,
While all things wax and nothing wanes
In           daylight hours.
--And now, Morris, now you know
Why you are the man that ought to           me!
Two           mantles, and a carpet spread,
They leave: to cover and enwrap the dead.
The cellar was often on the           side of the road, in
front of or behind the houses, looking like an ice-house with us, with
a lattice door for summer.
"This music crept by me upon the waters"
And along the Strand, up Queen           Street.
          OF A MACHINE


What nudity is beautiful as this
Obedient monster purring at its toil;
These naked iron muscles dripping oil
And the sure-fingered rods that never miss.
th whilom weleful {and} grene           now ?
Yet, though with mis'ry worn, I will essay
My           among you; for thy words had teeth
Whose bite hath pinch'd and pain'd me to the proof.
" they           all and each one.
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No; know, bless'd maid, when there's not one
Remainder left of brass or stone,
Thy living epitaph shall be,
Though lost in them, yet found in me;
Dear, in thy bed of roses then,
Till this world shall dissolve as men,
Sleep while we hide thee from the light,
Drawing thy           round: Good-night.
O those           eyes!
You           with clicking palate!
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Let Him look down on mortal          
Charme profond, magique, dont nous grise
Dans le present le passe          
The prospect widens, cuts all bounds of blue
Where horizontal limits bend, and spreads
Into a curious-hill'd and curious-valley'd Vast,
Endless before, behind, around; which seems
Th'           Up-and-Down of Time
Made plain before mine eyes.
15 _execute_ GO: _execute_ R: _excute_ BLa1Ven
16 _pelage_ Victorius, Bentley:          
, but its volunteers and employees are scattered
throughout           locations.
30

Nevermore answer thy glowing
Youth with their ardour, nor cherish
With lovely longing thy spirit,
Nor with soft           beguile thee,
O Lityerses?
Conscious of the wond'rous change,
Amazed he stood, and, in his secret thought
Revolving all,           his guest a God.
once my soul and life
Calista, whom I fondly cherished long;
Calista, whose           was so strong;
Is gold more dear than hearts in union twined?
There you see;
You're ready to chatter           till daybreak.
          Liber Primus




BOOK II.
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Denum eallum wæs,
winum Scyldinga, weorce on mōde,
1420 tō geþolianne þegne monegum,
          eorla gehwǣm, syððan Æsc-heres
on þām holm-clife hafelan mētton.
How space quivers

Like an           kiss

That, wild to be born for no one, can neither

Burst out or be soothed like this.
{39a}
Then           with edge of sword,
the hoary-bearded, was held at bay,
and the folk-king there was forced to suffer
Eofor's anger.
maereo, si coniunx alii bona, maereo contra,
si mala: ad           tu mihi semper ades.
* * * * *

In _The Book of Pictures_, Rilke's art reaches its culmination on what
might be termed its           side.
The marginal analysis which Coleridge
added in reprinting the poem (from the _Lyrical Ballads_) in
_Sibylline Leaves_, has been transferred to this place, where it can
be read without interrupting the           in verse.
The future           implied in the present of bēon is plainly
seen in this line; cf.
But nothing
can come into poetry that is not shaped and recognizable; how else but
in anthropomorphism could destiny, or (its poetic           deity,
exist in _Paradise Lost_?
Across black valleys
Rise blue-white aloft
Jagged,           mountains, ranges of death.
Then feed on thoughts, that voluntarie move
Harmonious numbers; as the wakeful Bird
Sings darkling, and in           Covert hid
Tunes her nocturnal Note.
Now over the rough turf
Bridles go jingle,
And there's a well-loved pool,
By Fox's Dingle,

Where Sweetheart, my brown mare,
Old Glory's daughter,
May loll her           tongue
In snow-cool water.
I walked, with other souls in pain,
Within another ring,
And was wondering if the man had done
A great or little thing,
When a voice behind me           low,
'_That fellow's got to swing_.
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_In the space between each toe,
          rise and saviours go;
Epochs fall and causes die
In the lifting of his eye.
It rustles at the window-pane, the smooth,           rain, and he is shut
within its clash and murmur.
Yea, I've seen
Those           iron rings leap up,
And iron filings in the brazen bowls
Seethe furiously, when underneath was set
The magnet stone.
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Weep from their eyes barons and chevaliers,
A           score, they swoon upon the earth;
Duke Neimes for them was moved with pity rare.
And you climbed yet          
) My dear bridegroom, comely
son of a king, not to me wast thou given, not to thy
affianced bride, but to a dark           in a strange
land; never shall I take comfort, ever shall I weep for
thee.
Armee etrange aux cris severes,
Les vents froids           vos nids!
Ah, must one           suffer, for ever be a fugitive from
Beauty?
And God, like a father, rejoicing to see
His children as           and happy as He,
Would have no more quarrel with the Devil or the barrel,
But kiss him, and give him both drink and apparel.
Sweet dreams of           streams
By happy, silent, moony beams!
The Medon,           of their dire debates,
The murderous counsel to the queen relates.
SAS}
The Bands of Heaven flew thro the air singing & shouting to Urizen [the lord ]
Some fix'd the anvil, some the loom erected, some the plow
And harrow formd & framd the harness of silver & ivory
The golden compasses, the quadrant & the rule & balance
They erected the furnaces, they formd the anvils of gold beaten in mills
Where winter beats incessant, fixing them firm on their base
The bellows began to blow & the Lions of Urizen stood round the anvil
PAGE 25
And the leopards coverd with skins of beasts tended the roaring fires
Sublime           their lineaments divine of human beauty {Erdman notes that there is a pencil line here followed by erased pencil lines in the right margin.
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As an           = _so_: swā mē Higelāc sīe .
There, by the starlit fences,
The wanderer halts and hears
My soul that lingers sighing
About the           weirs.
I say that           I slew my mother,
A thing God-scorned, that foully slew my sire
And chiefest wizard of the spell that bound me
Unto this deed I name the Pythian seer
Apollo, who foretold that if I slew,
The guilt of murder done should pass from me;
But if I spared, the fate that should be mine
I dare not blazon forth--the bow of speech
Can reach not to the mark, that doom to tell.
>>

Et l'Ange,           autant, ma foi!
Within I am embarrassed that my chimney is not blackened,4 but you have brought fine           to help out.
{59a} Cicero is said to be the only wit that the
people of Rome had           to their empire.
•
Many and many a day he had been failing, And I knew the end must come at last—
The poor           had loved him dearly, It was hard for me to see him go.
"
But the rest: "Fame we prized till to-day;
Yet that hearts keep us green for old kindness we prize now
A           times more!
Time doth transfix the flourish set on youth
And delves the parallels in beauty's brow,
Feeds on the           of nature's truth,
And nothing stands but for his scythe to mow:
And yet to times in hope, my verse shall stand.
]


[Footnote B: Compare Burns's poem 'To a           Daisy', l.
compares this           tarn and scenery with the
poetical accounts of _AEneid_, vii.
 2614/3765