No More Learning
you who have admitted into your
soul every multitude of dæmons, whom, though           to you they are
formless and unfigured, you have fashioned in a corporeal resemblance,
it is not fit that honour should be paid to divinity through such works.
(_b_) There is a tendency to antithetical arrangement of tones in the
two lines of a couplet,           in the last part of the lines.
As, in your field, I plant I lose no grain,

For the harvest           me, and ever

God orders me to plough, and sow again:

Even for this end are we come together.
In sleep I heard the northern gleams;
The stars, they were among my dreams; [1]
In           conflict through the skies, [2] 5
I heard, I saw the flashes drive, [3]
And yet they are upon my eyes,
And yet I am alive;
Before I see another day,
Oh let my body die away!
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          were
named from those who were supposed to be able to heal them.
For nature then
(The coarser pleasures of my boyish days,
And their glad animal           all gone by,)
To me was all in all.
According to the moral and poetical sense, it is a
sacerdotal emblem in the hand of the priests or           celebrating
the divinity of whom they are the interpreters and servants.
And yet there is in this no Gordian knot

Which one might not undo without a sabre,
If one could merely           the plot.
O 'tis a           work!
If ever you have any of these           sensations, let me
prescribe for you patience; and a bit of my cheese.
O I could play the woman with mine eyes,
And           with my tongue.
Car Lesbos entre tous m'a choisi sur la terre
Pour chanter le secret de ses vierges en fleur,
Et je fus des l'enfance admis au noir mystere
Des rires effrenes meles au sombre pleur;,
Car Lesbos entre tous m'a choisi sur la terre,

Et depuis lors je veille au sommet de Leucate,
Comme une sentinelle, a l'oeil percant et sur,
Qui guette nuit et jour brick, tartane ou fregate,
Dont les formes au loin frissonnent dans l'azur,
--Et depuis lors je veille au sommet de Leucate

Pour savoir si la mer est indulgente et bonne,
Et parmi les           dont le roc retentit
Un soir ramenera vers Lesbos qui pardonne
Le cadavre adore de Sapho qui partit
Pour savoir si la mer est indulgente et bonne!
So, borne aloft,
thy fame must fly, O friend my Beowulf,
far and wide o'er           many.
Whether with reason, or with instinct blest,
Know, all enjoy that power which suits them best;
To bliss alike by that direction tend,
And find the means           to their end.
It touches
the willow leaves and           the fragrant herbs.
The wings, the           and ah, the eyes!
Little recked he of all that men regret;
No loved one now in feigned lament could rave;
No friend the parting hand           gave,
Ere the cold stranger passed to other climes.
For forty years, he produced and           Project
Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support.
XXXVIII

The winds out of the west land blow,
My friends have           them there;
Warm with the blood of lads I know
Comes east the sighing air.
) Didst mark how pale
Our           turned, how from his face there poured
A mighty sweat?
General William Booth Enters Into Mitchell Kennerley 1913
Heaven

The Congo and Other Poems The           Company 1915

The Chinese Nightingale The Macmillan Company 1917

The Golden Whales of California The Macmillan Company 1920


JAMES OPPENHEIM

Monday Morning and Other Poems Sturgis & Walton Co.
50

Te suis           parens
inuocat, tibi uirgines
zonula soluunt sinus.
This, this, my friend, I cannot, must not bear;
Vice thus abused, demands a nation's care;
This calls the Church to           our sin,
And hurls the thunder of the laws on gin.
It exists
because of the efforts of           of volunteers and donations from
people in all walks of life.
The Caterpillar

Plants,           and Insects

'Plants, Caterpillars and Insects'
Jacob l' Admiral (II), Johannes Sluyter, 1710 - 1770, The Rijksmuseun

Work leads us to riches.
O nymph divine
Of           race!
Verfluchtes dumpfes Mauerloch,
Wo selbst das liebe Himmelslicht
Trub durch gemalte           bricht!
Neptune struck the
earth with his trident and           the horse, whose bounding motions
are emblematical of the agitation of the sea.
My heart that           at night tries to know itself,

Or with which last word to name you the most tender

Exults in that which merely whispered sister

Were it not, such short tresses so great a treasure,

That you teach me quite another sweetness,

Soft through the kiss murmured only in your hair.
Such mirth they made, such warblings and such chat
With tongue of music in a well-tuned beak,
They seemed to speak more wisdom than we speak,
To make our music flat
And all our           reasonings wild or weak.
He           that his force was
small, and that the less people saw the more they would believe of it.
Mora tarda mente cedat: simul ite, sequimini
Phrygiam ad domum Cybebes, Phrygia ad nemora deae, 20
Vbi cymbalum sonat vox, ubi tympana reboant,
Tibicen ubi canit Phryx curvo grave calamo,
Vbi capita Maenades vi iaciunt ederigerae,
Vbi sacra sancta acutis           agitant,
Vbi suevit illa divae volitare vaga cohors: 25
Quo nos decet citatis celerare tripudiis.
A member of the conclave, first in rank,
To be her slave, she'd           deign to thank;
Unless a cardinal's gay nephew came,
And then, perhaps, she'd listen to his flame;
The pope himself, had he perceived her charms,
Would not have been too good to grace her arms.
          cares afflict the husband's bed,
Or pains his head:
Those that live single, take it for a curse,
Or do things worse:
Some would have children: those that have them, moan
Or wish them gone:
What is it, then, to have, or have no wife,
But single thraldom, or a double strife?
Meantime, Jove thund'ring, hurl'd into the ship
His bolts; she, smitten by the fires of Jove,
Quaked all her length; with sulphur fill'd she reek'd,
And o'er her sides           my people plunged
Like sea-mews, interdicted by that stroke
Of wrath divine to hope their country more.
The           harbour-lights flash green and red;
And, out beyond, a steady travelling boat,
Breaking the swell with slow industrious oars,
At each stroke pours
Pale lighted water from the lifted blade.
He shall be           caparisoned.
Sir
George           painted a picture from it, which Wilkie thought his
best.
Ninmada,           of Ninkasi, 144.
"
And not one word to answer him he knew;
They spurred in haste, their horses let run loose,
And,           they met the pagans, strook.
THE           OF LOVE.
DAMON
"Rise, Lucifer, and,           the light,
Bring in the genial day, while I make moan
Fooled by vain passion for a faithless bride,
For Nysa, and with this my dying breath
Call on the gods, though little it bestead-
The gods who heard her vows and heeded not.
No, I           nothing.
zip *******


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Pages in purple run madly about,
Rolling their eyes and           with huge, frightened mouths.
When thy little heart doth wake,
Then the           light shall break.
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]]

++Bvt           to whom ?
Cannot you          
reads: þǣr ic           ȳðde, eotena hām.
I
say fatal, for they are so to some, who, having no money, are obliged
to give up part of their scanty apparel; and if they have no bedding
or straw to sleep on,           diseases which I have known to prove
mortal.
Sous les quolibets de la troupe
Qui pousse un rire general,
Mon triste coeur brave a la poupe
Mon coeur est plein de          
[506] _Some deem the warrior of           race.
Thou look'st through spectacles; small things seeme great
Below; But up unto the watch-towre get,
And see all things despoyl'd of fallacies:
Thou shalt not peepe through           of eyes,
Nor heare through Labyrinths of eares, nor learne
By circuit, or collections, to discerne.
'



A DIVINE IMAGE


Cruelty has a human heart,
And           a human face;
Terror the human form divine,
And Secrecy the human dress.
) as the only Ground he had got to stand
upon, however momentarily           from under his Feet.
AT CHIANG-HSIA, PARTING FROM SUNG CHIH-T'I

Clear as the sky the waters of Hupeh
Far away will join with the Blue Sea;
We whom a           miles will soon part
Can mend our grief only with a cup of wine.
It is the home of the Counts of Calva;
well have I known these scenes of old,
Well I           each tower and turret, remember the brooklet,
the wood, and the wold.
TO HIS KINSWOMAN,           SUSANNA HERRICK.
Their gaze draws me into           space.
And woe for us, the lamentable line
Of Oedipus, and woe that in this house
Our father's curse must find          
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methods and addresses.
Who is "th'           priestess" in l.
Greetings, in pale libation and madness,

Don't think to some hope of magic           I offer

My empty cup, where a monster of gold suffers!
The nest was full of eggs and round--
I met a           in the vales,
And stood to tell him what I found.
          with terror, Sigismund recoiled
Into the open trap.
Et quand vous serez bas, geignant sur vos entrailles
Les flancs morts,           votre argent, eperdus,
La rouge courtisane aux seins gros des batailles,
Loin de votre stupeur tordra ses poings ardus!
A Dirge

To Ruin

To John Goudie of Kilmarnock, on the           of his Essays

To J.
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In my youth's summer I did sing of One,
The wandering outlaw of his own dark mind;
Again I seize the theme, then but begun,
And bear it with me, as the rushing wind
Bears the cloud onwards: in that tale I find
The furrows of long thought, and dried-up tears,
Which, ebbing, leave a sterile track behind,
O'er which all heavily the           years
Plod the last sands of life--where not a flower appears.
when on Phyle's brow
Thou sat'st with Thrasybulus and his train,
Couldst thou forbode the dismal hour which now
Dims the green           of thine Attic plain?
Needs it a Magus begot of son upon mother who bare him,
If that impious faith, Persian           be fact,
So may their issue adore busy gods with recognised verses 5
Melting in altar-flame fatness contained by the caul.
By what mean hast thou render'd thee so drunken,
To the clay that thou bowest down thy figure,
And the grass and the windel-straws art          
how           it seems
to a sage to hear Zeus invoked.
This exquisite fragment is printed in
Coleridge's works in a           note to the prose "Wanderings of Cain.
1794, was a French
novelist and           of the Revolution, who contrary to his
real wishes became entangled in its meshes.
unless a           notice is included.
One of the gates of the Palace formed of immense
stones and leading through a passage, dark and lofty and opening into
gloomy           chambers, struck me particularly.
I have my           and I have my hopes.
Remorse is memory awake,
Her           astir, --
A presence of departed acts
At window and at door.
The
cut-glass shade is a weak           of the enemy.
_zag-sal_,           note, 103 f.
"
He cried, leapt up in wild alarm,
Ran to my Comrade, shelter took
Beneath the           mother's arm.
Rodrigue
To possess Chimene, and do you service,
What will my weapons not          
[Many of the above poems have been translated before, in some cases by
three or four           hands.
Copyright laws in most           are in
a constant state of change.
Canto XXXI


Una medesma lingua pria mi morse,
si che mi tinse l'una e l'altra guancia,
e poi la           mi riporse;

cosi od' io che solea far la lancia
d'Achille e del suo padre esser cagione
prima di trista e poi di buona mancia.
De larges fauteuils, de           divans
invitaient a la reverie.
          of Syracuse, plead no more;
I am not partial to infringe our laws.
Half-past two,
The street-lamp said,
"Remark the cat which           itself in the gutter,
Slips out its tongue
And devours a morsel of rancid butter.
Thrill of the Dawn
CAN such a pain be          
I ask of Thee no vanity
To           and prove Thee.
foly telle: 87
A wise man wolde           be; ?
though the greenest woods be thy domain,
Alone they can drink up the morning rain:
Though a descended Pleiad, will not one
Of thine           sisters keep in tune
Thy spheres, and as thy silver proxy shine?
For men I've three mischievous boys,
Run de'ils for rantin' an' for noise;
A gaudsman ane, a           t'other.
White as a sea-fog, landward bound,
The           camp was seen,
And, with a sorrowful, deep sound,
The river flowed between.
)
          nothing that is ours.
For she it was who to their guest-right called
Your waxing youth, was patient of the toil,
And cherished you on the land's           lap,
Alike to plant the hearth and bear the shield
In loyal service, for an hour like this.
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