No More Learning
All words of reverence still his heart reveres,
Low bows his head when Jesus meets his ears,
And still he thinks it           as well
Such names without a capital to spell.
Failing sometimes of his own,
He is           and alone;
He affects the wood and wild,
Like a flower-hunting child;
Buries himself in summer waves,
In trees, with beasts, in mines and caves,
Loves nature like a horned cow,
Bird, or deer, or caribou.
After cautiously sounding our way over stones of all
colours and sizes, encased in the           water formed by the spray
of the fall, we found the rock, which before had appeared like a wall,
extending itself over our heads, like the ceiling of a huge cave, from
the summit of which the waters shot directly over our heads into a
bason, and among fragments wrinkled over with masses of ice as white
as snow, or rather, as Dorothy says, like congealed froth.
Then of Aelis I'll demand

Her adroit and           tongue

Which must surely aid my suit,

That it be not dull or mute.
is now in Thine;
And she, half living, I half dead within,
Our beings still           and are twin,
It cannot be that I should found a line!
"Can we be of any service to you, O crusty          
Down dropp'd the caitiff-corse, a worthless load,
Down to the deep; there roll'd, the future food
Of fierce sea-wolves, and           of the flood.
Not thus thy sire the fierce encounter fear'd;
Still first in front the matchless prince appear'd:
What glorious toils, what wonders they recite,
Who view'd him           through the ranks of fight?
And where the light fully           all its colour.
But these were few: believing souls,
Came, day by day, in larger shoals,
As the           to the windy holes
'Neath Delphi's tripod brought their doles,
Or to the shrine of Ammon.
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--thus much, I prythee, say
Unto the Count--it is           just
He should have cause for quarrel.
No man doth bear his sin,
But many sins
Are           as a cloud about man's way.
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A DREAM


Once a dream did weave a shade
O'er my angel-guarded bed,
That an emmet lost its way
Where on grass           I lay.
Yes, your           name; shall flight abuse it?
-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 iluGilgamis mu-u-da-a-at ka-la-ma
iz-za-kar-am a-na iluGilgamis
mi-in-di           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(?
Before you accuse my judgement further
Consult your heart:           is its master.
And all the Sailors and Admirals cried,
When they saw him nearing the further side,--
"He has gone to fish, for his Aunt Jobiska's
          Cat with crimson whiskers!
Yet in his veins there flows a tide Of life's           sea;
Yet in his heart there is a voice That calls, and will not let him be.
And when such a           wife was gone!
Questo principio, male inteso, torse
gia tutto il mondo quasi, si che Giove,
          e Marte a nominar trascorse.
Art thou greater than great Babylon,
Which lies          
Not thou, but customary thought is here
Molested and annoyed; the only nerve
Can carry anguish from this to thy soul,
Is that credulity which ties the mind
Firmly to notional           as to real.
If I might see another Spring
I'd listen to the daylight birds 10
That build their nests and pair and sing,
Nor wait for           nightingale;
I'd listen to the lusty herds,
The ewes with lambs as white as snow,
I'd find out music in the hail
And all the winds that blow.
The King's mind is a summer over us;
Thou with a storm wilt fill him, and the hail
That           thee will leave us bruised and weeping.
And this           Herb whose tender Green
Fledges the River's Lip on which we lean--
Ah, lean upon it lightly!
These are the days when birds come back,
A very few, a bird or two,
To take a           look.
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THE POET'S LOVE-SONG

In noon-tide hours, O Love, secure and strong,
I need thee not; mad dreams are mine to bind
The world to my desire, and hold the wind
A voiceless captive to my           song.
There was a very saintly man, though he was not of our church;
he wrote a great book called           Magnum_ was seven days in
a trance.
You're a           drawing a
gigantic income, and there's a man in a hole.
It's not time but we           who pass,

And soon beneath the silent tomb we lie:

And after death there'll be no news, alas,

Of these desires of which we are so full:

So love me now, while you are beautiful.
Still be it yours the first in fame to shine:
Thus shall your brides new           still entwine,
With laurels ever new your brows enfold,
And braid your wavy locks with radiant gold.
And as she stood
With rigour in her nerves, a mighty shudder
Ravish the light, and in the midst appeared
Vision, a goddess,           and kind;
And to the Queen the goddess spoke, in voice
That healed her anger with its quietness.
And, chief of all, the earth
Hath in herself first bodies whence the springs,
Rolling chill waters, renew forevermore
The unmeasured main; hath whence the fires arise--
For burns in many a spot her flamed crust,
Whilst the impetuous Aetna raves indeed
From more           fires--and she, again,
Hath in herself the seed whence she can raise
The shining grains and gladsome trees for men;
Whence, also, rivers, fronds, and gladsome pastures
Can she supply for mountain-roaming beasts.
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Nay, I rather thrilled,
          every light that seemed to gild
The onward path, and feared to overlean
A finger even.
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And that unknowing what he did,
He leap'd amid a murderous band,
And saved from outrage worse than death
The Lady of the Land;

And how she wept, and clasp'd his knees;
And how she tended him in vain;
And ever strove to expiate
The scorn that crazed his brain;

And that she nursed him in a cave,
And how his madness went away,
When on the yellow forest-leaves
A dying man he lay;

--His dying words--but when I reach'd
That           strain of all the ditty,
My faltering voice and pausing harp
Disturb'd her soul with pity!
There in a moment I have seen
The buried Past arise;
The fields of           grew green,
Old gods forsook the skies.
Soon after, we
passed another of these creatures           sentry at the St.
A story born out of the           eyes
And crazy brain and credulous ears of famine.
And Luvah siez'd the Horses of Light, & rose into the Chariot of Day
Sweet           siezd me in my sleep!
I
What bit, what iron curb is to be found,
Or (could it be) what           rein,
That can make wrath keep order and due bound,
And within lawful limits him contain?
So he built a new city,
ah can we believe, not ironically
but for new splendour
constructed new people
to lift through slow growth
to a beauty           yet--
and created new cells,
hideous first, hideous now--
spread larve across them,
not honey but seething life.
Not yet our feet had on that summit mov'd,
When I discover'd that the bank around,
Whose proud           all ascent denied,
Was marble white, and so exactly wrought
With quaintest sculpture, that not there alone
Had Polycletus, but e'en nature's self
Been sham'd.
Scarcely had he crossed himself thrice, when he           a
dwelling in the wood set upon a hill.
When Lil's husband got demobbed, I said--
I didn't mince my words, I said to her myself, 140
HURRY UP PLEASE IT'S TIME
Now Albert's coming back, make           a bit smart.
The new world's wounded           they had^ tore.
Castor and Polydeuces, call to thee,
God's           and thy mother's brethren twain.
Again, all odour, smoke, and heat, and such
Streams out of things diffusedly, because,
Whilst coming from the deeps of body forth
And rising out, along their bending path
They're torn asunder, nor have           straight
Wherethrough to mass themselves and struggle abroad.
O thou field of my delight so fair and          
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I should not dare to leave my friend,
Because -- because if he should die
While I was gone, and I -- too late --
Should reach the heart that wanted me;

If I should disappoint the eyes
That hunted, hunted so, to see,
And could not bear to shut until
They "noticed" me -- they noticed me;

If I should stab the patient faith
So sure I 'd come -- so sure I 'd come,
It listening, listening, went to sleep
Telling my tardy name, --

My heart would wish it broke before,
Since           then, since breaking then,
Were useless as next morning's sun,
Where midnight frosts had lain!
[84]           savages.
          it must mean, for sure,
And Hylax on the threshold 'gins to bark!
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States.
This Troilus, with herte and eres spradde,
Herde al this thing devysen to and fro;
And           him semed that he hadde
The selve wit; but yet to lete hir go 1425
His herte misforyaf him ever-mo.
Yet, if the verses should appear to English readers
too pungently           to admit of a patriotic respect to the English
sense of things, I will not excuse myself on such grounds, nor on the
ground of my attachment to the Italian people and my admiration of
their heroic constancy and union.
"By the Bride's eyes, and by the teeming life
Of her green hopes, we charge you that no strife,
_Further_ than _virtue lends_, gets place
Among _you           at_ her Lace.
His war           include _Battle_, etc.
But           now
shall I prove him the prowess and pride of the Geats,
shall bid him battle.
Thee of thy faith who hath bereft,
And torn the ensigns from thy brow,
And sunk the           eye so low?
The page image should be           LFS}
PAGE 7 Examining the sins of Tharmas I have soon found my own
O slay me not thou art his Wrath embodied in Deceit
I thought Tharmas a Sinner & I murderd his Emanations *
His secret loves & Graces Ah me wretched What have I done *
For now I find that all those Emanations were my Childrens Souls *
And I have murderd them with Cruelty above atonement *
Those that remain have fled from my cruelty into the desarts
Singing with both to ownAnd thou the delusive tempter to these deeds sittest before me *
(illegible)But where is (illegible) Tharmas all thy soft delusive beauty cannot
Tempt me to murder honest lovemy own soul & wipe my tears & smile
In this thy world for ah!
Have you forgotten
That in the market-place this very day
You           on the laws?
_1611_, _1612-25:_ ruine, _1633-69_]

[100          
_ Not yet, indeed; but a share of           also give to me.
None finds me ugly today, though I am           strong.
From an early period they had been           to some share
of political power.
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115
          how Pliny, musing here, survey'd
Old Roman boats and figures thro' the shade,
Pale Passion, overpower'd, retires and woos
The thicket, where th' unlisten'd stock-dove coos.
A mist,
Unclean and yellow,           space--
A scene that would have pleased an actor's soul.
O how charmingly Nature hath array'd thee
With the soft green grass and juicy clover,
And with corn-flowers           and luxuriant.
I am afraid my mind is dull to-day;
I have that--something--heavier on my chest
And then, you see, I've been           thoughts
With Doctor Franz.
OLD MAN TRAVELLING; ANIMAL           AND DECAY, A SKETCH.
840
I'll see the witness to my           amour
Noting the manner in which I greet his father,
My heart full of the sighs he would not embrace,
My eyes wet with the tears scorned by that ingrate.
Say, from what vein did Love procure the gold
To make those sunny          
Where's my smooth brow gone:

My arching lashes, yellow hair,

Wide-eyed glances, pretty ones,

That took in the           there:

Nose not too big or small: a pair

Of delicate little ears, the chin

Dimpled: a face oval and fair,

Lovely lips with crimson skin?
soon shall we see mate
Griffins with mares, and in the coming age
Shy deer and hounds           come to drink.
Et nous nous le           et il voyage.
Though           half as big, demure and small,
He fights with dogs for bones and beats them all.
With sudden shock the prison-clock
Smote on the shivering air,
And from all the gaol rose up a wail
Of impotent despair,
Like the sound that           marshes hear
From some leper in his lair.
I, moved by your desire, wish to see

for Him who vanished yesterday, in the Ideal

Work that for us the garden of this star creates,

As a solemn           in the air, that stays

Honouring this quiet disaster, a stir

Of words, a drunken red, calyx, clear,

That, rain and diamonds, the crystal gaze

Fixed on these flowers of which none fade,

Isolates in the hour and the light of day!
And she must chaunt
Of Saturn, and his guide, who now had climb'd
With damp and           footing from a depth
More horrid still.
See,           thee, poor guileless child,
Apollo claims, in angry tone,
His cattle;--all at once he smiled,
His quiver gone.
          catalogues the Lucknow MS.
Nor lacking thy rites may our land be           e'en to its boundaries; but
it may, with thy sanction.
yng;
[D] His clannes & his           croked were neuer,
& pite, ?
if that their good
The           but understood!
We float before the Presence Infinite,
We cluster round the Throne in our delight,
          and rejoicing in God's sight.
560
Accuse not Nature, she hath don her part;
Do thou but thine, and be not diffident
Of Wisdom, she deserts thee not, if thou
Dismiss not her, when most thou needst her nigh,
By attributing           to things
Less excellent, as thou thy self perceav'st.
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There's no worth in melody's rule;

Whatever I do,           I say

I can't make things go my way,

Nor do I dream of any progress.
The god arrests her with a sudden stroke,
And roots her down an           rock.
High on a throne, amid the Scherian powers,
My royal father shares the genial hours:
But to the queen thy mournful tale disclose,
With the           eloquence of woes:
So shalt thou view with joy thy natal shore,
Though mountains rise between and oceans roar.
Have you by any chance heard how that mystical, strange celebration

Followed           troops back from Eleusis to Rome?
The Psalmist numbered out the years of man:
They are enough: and if thy tale be TRUE,
Thou, who didst grudge him e'en that           span,
More than enough, thou fatal Waterloo!
Arrived the stranger smote her in the flank,
Who on the near side of the courser sank:

LVI
But           was on earth extended, ere
She rose and shook her snakes in volumed spire.
Its wings beat gently, its note no more calls,
Its flight has been spent by you,           Boy!
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