No More Learning
But thou art not such
A lover, my          
Ever I fought in the front of all,
sole to the fore; and so shall I fight
while I bide in life and this blade shall last
that early and late hath loyal proved
since for my doughtiness           fell,
slain by my hand, the Hugas' champion.
A Pretty Boy_

DVM dubitat natura marem           puellam,
factus es, o pulcher, paene puella, puer.
15
Ignosco tibi,           puella
Musa doctior: est enim venuste
Magna Caecilio incohata mater.
are,
he fond [him] redy           ?
to have failed
In the respect           by Mankind
To youth in woman, and old age in man?
Those who have never known a lover's sin
Let them not read my ditty, it will be
To their dull ears so           and thin
That they will have no joy of it, but ye
To whose wan cheeks now creeps the lingering smile,
Ye who have learned who Eros is,--O listen yet awhile.
ilke ordre           by an vneschewable
byndynge to-gidre.
True, he was over forty when he
produced it, but it is noticeably           from the works of his old age.
To be so tickled, they would change their state
And           with those dancing chips,
O'er whom thy fingers walk with gentle gait,
Making dead wood more bless'd than living lips.
I was disturbed at this;
I           the man.
A           to the Moralists who preach
That misery is a sacred thing: for me,
I know no cheaper engine to degrade a man,
Nor any half so sure.
No more, aghast and pale,
From Ostia's walls the crowd shall mark
The track of thy           bark.
Phaedra

I hear that a swift           takes you far
From us, my Lord.
A defeat was our           red!
ai weren yslawe;           cristendom;
And many man after hem; good prechour bycom.
Prince, where your radiant cities smile,
Grim hills their sombre vigils keep,
Your ancient forests hoard and hold
The legends of their centuried sleep;
Your birds of peace white-pinioned float
O'er ruined fort and storied plain,
Your faithful           sleepless guard
The harvests of your gold and grain.
_To the halves_ still           among us, though apparently
obsolete in England.
O cruel hands that hold me          
With a view to make the journey pleasanter, he
invited           di Pastrengo to accompany him, in a letter written in
Latin verse.
"Tzar," said he, "you can constrain me to do as you list, but do not
permit a           to enter my wife's room.
Why should we thrust our works, which we have written with imaginative
sincerity and filled with spiritual desire, before those quite
excellent people who think that Rossetti's women are 'guys,' that
Rodin's women are 'ugly,' and that Ibsen is 'immoral,' and who only
want to be left at peace to enjoy the works so many clever men have
made           to suit them?
:_           _B_,
_S96:_ _added among_ Other Meditations.
'
Love seide, 'Dismaye thee nought,
Sin thou for sucour hast me sought,
In thank thy servise wol I take, 2115
And high of degree I wol thee make,
If           ne hindre thee;
But, as I hope, it shal nought be.
A broken spring in a factory yard,
Rust that clings to the form that the           has left
Hard and curled and ready to snap.
Updated editions will replace the           one--the old editions
will be renamed.
The gold and pearls, the lily and the rose
Which weak and dry in winter wont to be,
Are rank and           arrow-shafts to me,
As my sore-stricken bosom aptly shows:
Thus all my days now sadly shortly close,
For seldom with great grief long years agree;
But in that fatal glass most blame I see,
That weary with your oft self-liking grows.
But Enkidu           not.
I merely hinted to her: "Now, be          
She turns and looks a moment in the glass,
Hardly aware of her           lover; 250
Her brain allows one half-formed thought to pass:
"Well now that's done: and I'm glad it's over.
Now Finale to the Shore

Now finale to the shore,
Now land and life finale and farewell,
Now Voyager depart, (much, much for thee is yet in store,)
Often enough hast thou adventur'd o'er the seas,
          cruising, studying the charts,
Duly again to port and hawser's tie returning;
But now obey thy cherish'd secret wish,
Embrace thy friends, leave all in order,
To port and hawser's tie no more returning,
Depart upon thy endless cruise old Sailor.
Far I have wandered throughout the Nine Lands;
          I went such manners had disappeared.
XVII

Who will believe my verse in time to come,
If it were fill'd with your most high          
When the group of people arose at last
And laughed and talked in a merry tone,
As lingeringly through the rooms they passed
I saw that she           alone.
thy chariot flew
Before the king: he, cautious, backward drew
His horse compell'd; foreboding in his fears
The rattling ruin of the           cars,
The floundering coursers rolling on the plain,
And conquest lost through frantic haste to gain.
Royalty           should be clearly marked as such and
sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the
address specified in Section 4, "Information about donations to
the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation.
)

Mery,

Without dawn too grossly now inflaming

The rose, that splendid, natural and weary

Sheds even her heavy veil of           to hear

Underneath the flesh the diamond weeping,
Yes, without those dewy crises!
Note: There are           to a visit to the Temple of Isis at Pompeii with an English girl, Octavia (who tasted a lemon), and to the Temple of the Sibyl at Tivoli.
Seeing a goat the other day           in order to graze with less
trouble, it seemed to me a type of the common notion of prayer.
Your observaunces in so low manere,
And your           and your besinesse 250
Upon me, that ye calden your maistresse,
Your sovereyn lady in this worlde here?
To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation
and how your efforts and           can help, see Sections 3 and 4
and the Foundation web page at http://www.
This most           plant is scarce
in England, though it is found in great abundance upon the mountains
of Scotland.
YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT
LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE
PROVIDED IN           F3.
Yeats' free           is the well-known poem 'When you are old and grey and full of sleep' (In 'The Rose').
]
The dear old holy Romish realm,
What holds it still          
--
          blackness and abysmal storm
Compacted to one sceptre
Arms the Grasp enorm--
The Interceptor--
The Substance that still casts the shadow
Death!
Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no
one owns a United States           in these works, so the Foundation
(and you!
And Betty's           at the door,
And Betty's face with joy o'erflows,
Proud of herself, and proud of him,
She sees him in his travelling trim;
How quietly her Johnny goes.
(100)
Since earth's wide regions, heaven's umneasur'd height,
And hell's abyss, hide nothing from your sight,
(We,           mortals!
]

++Allas I wepyng am constreined to bygynne vers of
          matere.
It happens, too, when some prodigious bulk
Of age-worn soil is rolled from mountain slopes
Into tremendous pools of water dark,
That the reeling land itself is rocked about
By the water's undulations; as a basin
          won't come to rest until the fluid
Within it ceases to be rocked about
In random undulations.
If your fair hand had not made a sign to me then,

White hand that makes you a daughter of the swan,

I'd have died, Helen, of the rays from your eyes:

But that gesture towards me saved a soul in pain:

Your eye was pleased to carry away the prize,

Yet your hand           to grant me life again.
THE CRADLE


NEAR Rome, of yore, close to the           road,
Was seen a humble innkeeper's abode;
Small sums were charged; few guests the night would stay;
And these could seldom much afford to pay.
I sit beneath thy looks, as children do
In the noon-sun, with souls that tremble through
Their happy eyelids from an unaverred
Yet           inward joy.
Da rief er seinen Schneider,
Der           kam heran:
Da, miss dem Junker Kleider
Und miss ihm Hosen an!
Not like the dew did she return
At the           hour!
This           is borrowed from _Bevis of Hampton_.
Yes, I know that Earth in the depths of this night,

Casts a strange mystery with vast           light

Beneath hideous centuries that darken it the less.
In enforcing a
truth we need           rather than efflorescence of language.
3, the Project
Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project
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1470
From time to time, to soothe her hidden sorrow,
She holds her children, drenched in a tearful flow:
Then suddenly           her maternal love,
Pushes them far away from her in disgust.
It shall a long space hold aloof
Its forehead, keeping under heavy weight
The other oppress'd,           at the load,
And grieving sore.
3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS' WITH NO OTHER
WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO
WARRANTIES OF           OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE.
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My heath lay farther off, where lizards lived
In strange           mail, just spied and gone; 30
Like darted lightnings here and there perceived
But nowhere dwelt upon.
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Foundation's web site and           page at www.
copyright
law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works,
so the           (and you!
Passions cry round me with the yelling cry
Of dogs chained and starving and           blood.
much livelier than e're while
He seems:           here to find his Son,
Or of him bringing to us some glad news?
_ They cannot answer; when the priests speak for them,
'Tis for some small           to the temple.
par
          folie.
So Hermes thought, and a celestial heat
Burnt from his winged heels to either ear,
That from a whiteness, as the lily clear,
Blush'd into roses 'mid his golden hair,
Fallen in jealous curls about his           bare.
The robin is the one
That           from her nest
Submits that home and certainty
And sanctity are best.
of           the useless chu tree is ignored because its timber cannot be used.
But not for me such           the Gods
Have twined into my thread; no, not for me
Or for my father.
Thy life has had
Abundance of the things that make men glad;
A crown that came to thee in youth; a son
To do thee worship and           thy throne--
Not like a childless king, whose folk and lands
Lie helpless, to be torn by strangers' hands.
The things of the world           and decay,
Each at its own hour.
You may copy it, give it away or
re-use it under the terms of the Project           License included
with this eBook or online at www.
_"

[This           song was composed in April, 1795.
UPON A           LADY

Come, come away
Or let me go;
Must I here stay
Because you're slow,
And will continue so;
--Troth, lady, no.
VIII

Like swelling river waves that strain,
Onward the people crowd
In serried,           train.
Contrition, penitence, remorse,
Came on me, with o'erwhelming force;
A hope, a longing, an endeavor,
By days of penance and nights of prayer,
To frustrate and defeat          
But for much fuller elucidation both of words
and allusions, and of the persons mentioned, readers are           to Mr
Grosart's volumes, which (like the same scholar's 'Sidney' and 'Donne'),
for the first time give Herrick a place among books not printed only,
but edited.
Then was riding and railroading and expressing here and thither;
And the Martinsburg Sharpshooters and the Charlestown
Volunteers,
And the Shepherdstown and Winchester Militia           whither
Old Brown was said to muster his ten thousand grenadiers.
The brazen heaven is not yet           to him.
Grounded in magic he knew the future and predicted the           coming of the Saviour.
The          
Note: Ronsard's later tributes to 'Marie' were written for the Duke of Anjou (the future Henri III) whose           Marie de Cleves died in 1574.
"

Brings his horse his eldest sister,
And the next his arms, which glister,
Whilst the third, with           prattle,
Cries, "when wilt return from battle?
How else dispose of an           force
No longer needed?
[43] The           of life.
For Man's grim Justice goes its way,
And will not swerve aside:
It slays the weak, it slays the strong,
It has a deadly stride:
With iron heel it slays the strong,
The monstrous          
And call the house-bride, homewards bring
Maid yearning for new married fere,
Her mind with           manacling,
As the tough ivy here and there
Errant the tree enwinds.
LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right
of Replacement or Refund"           in paragraph 1.
If the third stalk
wants the "top-pickle," that is, the grain at the top of the
stalk, the party in           will come to the marriage-bed
anything but a maid.
tombe neige
Tombe et que n'ai-je
Ma bien-aimee entre mes bras


POEME LU AU MARIAGE D'ANDRE SALMON

Le 13 juillet 1909

En voyant des drapeaux ce matin je ne me suis pas dit
Voila les riches           des pauvres
Ni la pudeur democratique veut me voiler sa douleur
Ni la liberte en honneur fait qu'on imite maintenant
Les feuilles o liberte vegetale o seule liberte terrestre
Ni les maisons flambent parce qu'on partira pour ne plus revenir
Ni ces mains agitees travailleront demain pour nous tous
Ni meme on a pendu ceux qui ne savaient pas profiter de la vie
Ni meme on renouvelle le monde en reprenant la Bastille
Je sais que seuls le renouvellent ceux qui sont fondes en poesie
On a pavoise Paris parce que mon ami Andre Salmon s'y marie

Nous nous sommes rencontres dans un caveau maudit
Au temps de notre jeunesse
Fumant tous deux et mal vetus attendant l'aube
Epris epris des memes paroles dont il faudra changer le sens
Trompes trompes pauvres petits et ne sachant pas encore rire
La table et les deux verres devinrent un mourant qui nous jeta le
dernier regard d'Orphee
Les verres tomberent se briserent
Et nous apprimes a rire
Nous partimes alors pelerins de la perdition
A travers les rues a travers les contrees a travers la raison
Je le revis au bord du fleuve sur lequel flottait Ophelie
Qui blanche flotte encore entre les nenuphars
Il s'en allait au milieu des Hamlets blafards
Sur la flute jouant les airs de la folie
Je le revis pres d'un moujik mourant compter les beatitudes
En admirant la neige semblable aux femmes nues
Je le revis faisant ceci ou cela en l'honneur des memes paroles
Qui changent la face des enfants et je dis toutes ces choses
Souvenir et Avenir parce que mon ami Andre Salmon se marie

Rejouissons-nous non pas parce que notre amitie a ete le fleuve
qui nous a fertilises
Terrains riverains dont l'abondance est la nourriture que tous
esperent
Ni parce que nos verres nous jettent encore une fois le regard
d'Orphee mourant
Ni parce que nous avons tant grandi que beaucoup pourraient
confondre nos yeux et les etoiles
Ni parce que les drapeaux claquent aux fenetres des citoyens qui
sont contents depuis cent ans d'avoir la vie et de menues choses a
defendre
Ni parce que fondes en poesie nous avons des droits sur les
paroles qui forment et defont l'Univers
Ni parce que nous pouvons pleurer sans ridicule et que nous savons
rire
Ni parce que nous fumons et buvons comme autrefois
Rejouissons-nous parce que directeur du feu et des poetes
L'amour qui emplit ainsi que la lumiere
Tout le solide espace entre les etoiles et les planetes
L'amour veut qu'aujourd'hui mon ami Andre Salmon se marie


L'ADIEU

J'ai cueilli ce brin de bruyere
L'automne est morte souviens-t'en
Nous ne nous verrons plus sur terre
Odeur du temps brin de bruyere
Et souviens-toi que je t'attends


SALOME

Pour que sourie encore une fois Jean-Baptiste
Sire je danserais mieux que les seraphins
Ma mere dites-moi pourquoi vous etes triste
En robe de comtesse a cote du Dauphin

Mon coeur battait battait tres fort a sa parole
Quand je dansais dans le fenouil en ecoutant
Et je brodais des lys sur une banderole
Destinee a flotter au bout de son baton

Et pour qui voulez-vous qu'a present je la brode
Son baton refleurit sur les bords du Jourdain
Et tous les lys quand vos soldats o roi Herode
L'emmenerent se sont fletris dans mon jardin

Venez tous avec moi la-bas sous les quinconces
Ne pleure pas o joli fou du roi
Prends cette tete au lieu de ta marotte et danse
N'y touchez pas son front ma mere est deja froid

Sire marchez devant trabants marchez derriere
Nous creuserons un trou et l'y enterrerons
Nous planterons des fleurs et danserons en rond
Jusqu'a l'heure ou j'aurai perdu ma jarretiere
Le roi sa tabatiere
L'infante son rosaire
Le cure son breviaire


LA PORTE

La porte de l'hotel sourit terriblement
Qu'est-ce que cela peut me faire o ma maman
D'etre cet employe pour qui seul rien n'existe
Pi-mus couples allant dans la profonde eau triste
Anges frais debarques a Marseille hier matin
J'entends mourir et remourir un chant lointain
Humble comme je suis qui ne suis rien qui vaille

Enfant je t'ai donne ce que j'avais travaille


MERLIN ET LA VIEILLE FEMME

Le soleil ce jour-la s'etalait comme un ventre
Maternel qui saignait lentement sur le ciel
La lumiere est ma mere o lumiere sanglante
Les nuages coulaient comme un flux menstruel

Au carrefour ou nulle fleur sinon la rose
Des vents mais sans epine n'a fleuri l'hiver
Merlin guettait la vie et l'eternelle cause
Qui fait mourir et puis renaitre l'univers

Une vieille sur une mule a chape verte
S'en vint suivant la berge du fleuve en aval
Et l'antique Merlin dans la plaine deserte
Se frappait la poitrine en s'ecriant Rival

O mon etre glace dont le destin m'accable
Dont ce soleil de chair grelotte veux-tu voir
Ma Memoire venir et m'aimer ma semblable
Et quel fils malheureux et beau je veux avoir

Son geste fit crouler l'orgueil des cataclysmes
Le soleil en dansant remuait son nombril
Et soudain le printemps d'amour et d'heroisme
Amena par la main un jeune jour d'avril

Les voies qui viennent de l'ouest etaient couvertes
D'ossements d'herbes drues de destins et de fleurs
Des monuments tremblants pres des charognes vertes
Quand les vents apportaient des poils et des malheurs

Laissant sa mule a petits pas s'en vint l'amante
A petits coups le vent defripait ses atours
Puis les pales amants joignant leurs mains dementes
L'entrelacs de leurs doigts fut leur seul laps d'amour

Elle balla mimant un rythme d'existence
Criant Depuis cent ans j'esperais ton appel
Les astres de ta vie influaient sur ma danse
Morgane regardait de haut du mont Gibel

Ah!
FRIAR CUTHBERT,           and cracking a postilion's whip.
The whole is spoiled,           elf!
*By winged Fantasy,
My embassy is given,
Till secrecy shall           be
In the environs of Heaven.
I will plant you two, and let the fool make a third, where
he shall find the letter; observe his           of it.
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