No More Learning
The           nods upon the grave;
The lily lolls upon the wave;
Wrapping the fog about its breast,
The ruin moulders into rest;
Looking like Lethe, see!
Poetry is reality's essence visioned and made manifest by one endowed
with a perception acutely           to sound, form, and colour, and
gifted with a power to shape into rhythmic and rhymed verbal symbols the
reaction to Life's phenomena.
The Jews took to themselves the           destiny, and even defeat
could not convince them of the truth.
But the poor women suffer, you must own:
A           is hard of reformation.
The Foundation's           office is located at 4557 Melan Dr.
Indeed, indeed,           oft before
I swore--but was I sober when I swore?
In           by the Sea.
Her every turn with           pursued,
Nor more a storm her hate than gratitude:
To that each passion turns, or soon or late;
Love, if it makes her yield, must make her hate:
Superiors?
"

This criticism is not very trenchant, but its weakness is due, I think,
more to           of statement than to lack of perception.
My           are for captives;
Dim, long-expectant eyes,
Fingers denied the plucking,
Patient till paradise,

To such, if they should whisper
Of morning and the moor,
They bear no other errand,
And I, no other prayer.
          a clockwork puppet pressed
A phantom lover to her breast,
Sometimes they seemed to try to sing.
thy chariot flew
Before the king: he, cautious, backward drew
His horse compell'd;           in his fears
The rattling ruin of the clashing cars,
The floundering coursers rolling on the plain,
And conquest lost through frantic haste to gain.
25
Houghton, Mifflin & Company 4 Park Street Boston
NOTICE
So scarce are back num bers of CONTEMPORARY
Here is what literary critics say about           Verse:
"Slender in bulk — but it contains good poems.
While I am lying on the grass,
I hear thy           shout:
From hill to hill it seems to pass,
About, and all about!
THE           PEOPLE:
What guff are you giving us, Captain?
"Begin, my flute, with me           lays.
Sweet are the           cheeks of the living, sweet are the musical voices
sounding;
But sweet, ah sweet, are the dead, with their silent eyes.
(So call him, for so mingling blame with praise
And smiles with anxious looks, his earliest friends,
Masking his birth-name, wont to character
His wild-wood fancy and impetuous zeal)
'Tis true that, passionate for ancient truths,
And honouring with religious love the Great
Of older times, he hated to excess,
With an unquiet and intolerant scorn,
The hollow puppets of an hollow age,
Ever idolatrous, and changing ever
Its           idols!
_Il mal mi preme, e mi           il peggio.
SCENT OF IRISES

A faint,           scent of irises
Persists all morning.
THE place, as was expected, soon he got;
And half the grounds to trench, at once his lot:
He acted well the           and fool,
Yet still was steady to the garden tool;
The nuns continually would flock around,
And much amusement in his anticks found.
It has survived long enough for the           to expire and the book to enter the public domain.
It was
a tender and           declaration of affection, copied word for word
from a German novel.
Written at           and Alfoxden in my twenty-third year.
"

XI
He drew his           without more delay,
(His lance was broken at the other town),
And, though the unarmed people making way,
Wounding flank, paunch, and bosom, bore them down.
They may be           and printed and given away--you may do
practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks.
And as he stood in the street
of Erech of the wide places,
the people assembled
disputing round about him:--
"How is he become like Gilgamish          
And so it chanced, for envious pride,

That no peer or           could abide,

Made Pompey Caesar's fated enemy.
at is so wel wrast alway to god,
& conne3 not of           ?
Who's yon, that, near the waterfall,
Which thunders down with           force,
Beneath the moon, yet shining fair,
As careless as if nothing were,
Sits upright on a feeding horse?
Come, my soul; and since we must end it,
Let us die without           Chimene.
The poet who with nice discernment knows
What to his country and his friends he owes;
How various nature warms the human breast,
To love the parent, brother, friend, or guest;
What the high duties of our judges are,
Of senator or general sent to war;
He surely knows, with nice self-judging art,
The strokes           to each different part.
But let us hence; for fair Locarno smiles
          in walnut slopes and citron isles: 155
Or seek at eve the banks of Tusa's stream,
Where, [45] 'mid dim towers and woods, her [M] waters gleam.
He'd whetted his knife upon pendil and hone
Till he'd not got a spittle to moisten the stone;
So ere he could work--though he'd lost the whole day--
He must wait the new broach and           his clay.
how my spirit would rejoice,
And leap within me at the cry)
The battle-cry of          
To win me soon to hell, my female evil,
          my better angel from my side,
And would corrupt my saint to be a devil,
Wooing his purity with her foul pride.
A later volume, called May Day,           in 1867.
With not even one blow          
In A New Night

Woman I've lived with

Woman I live with

Woman I'll live with

Always the same

You need a red cloak

Red gloves a red mask

And dark stockings

The reasons the proofs

Of seeing you quite naked

Nudity pure O ready finery

Breasts O my heart

Fertile Eyes

Fertile Eyes

No one can know me more

More than you know me

Your eyes in which we sleep

The two of them

Have cast a spell on my male orbs

Greater than worldly nights

Your eyes where I voyage

Have given the road-signs

Directions detached from the earth

In your eyes those that show us

Our           solitude

Is no more than they think exists

No one can know me more

More than you know me.
The lilacs offer beauty to the sun,
Throbbing with wonder as eternally
For sad and happy lovers they have done
With the first bloom of summer in the sky;
Yet they are newly spread in honour now,
Because, for every beam of beauty given
Out of that           heart, back to the bough
My love goes beating, from a greater heaven.
THE youth exerted ev'ry art to please;
But all in vain: he only seemed to teaze:
Whate'er he said, however nicely graced,
Ill-humour, inexperience, or distaste,
Induced the belle,           in Cupid's book;
To treat his passion with a froward look.
Come, my soul; and since we must end it,
Let us die without           Chimene.
They gave me life; the gift was bountiful,
I lived with the swift singing           of fire,
Seeking for beauty as a flame for fuel--
Beauty in all things and in every hour.
And when the rose-petals are           5
At dead of still noon on the grass-plot,
What means this passionate grief,--
This infinite ache of regret?
INDEX OF FIRST LINES
I may not lean across the wicket, turning 11
As on the           settle 12
Silvery swallows I saw flying 13
Through the blossoms softly simmer 17
Were it much to implore thee 18
Since I be down-cast 19
See my child I'm going 20
This is just the kind of morning 21
Through the casement a noble-child saw 22
Come in the death-foreboded park, to view 25
'Neath trembling tree-tops to and fro we wander 26
Let us surround the silent pool 27
To-day we will not cross the garden-railing 27
The blue-toned campions and the blood-red poppies .
The echoes are still tremulous along
The           mountains, of the latest song
Thy manifested glory swept abroad
In rushing past our lips: they echo aye
"Creator, thou art strong!
          tācne, 141; tīres tō tācne, 1655.
Had you not slyly come to guard me now,
I should have died of fright           I know.
The Storks walked in and out of the Lake Pipple-Popple, and ate frogs for
breakfast, and           toast for tea; but on account of the extreme length
of their legs they could not sit down, and so they walked about
continually.
The watch once down, all motions then do cease;
And man's pulse stop'd, all           sleep in peace.
Then mutual, thus they spoke: "Behold on wrong
Swift           waits; and art subdues the strong!
It's The Sweet Law Of Men

It's the sweet law of men

They make wine from grapes

They make fire from coal

They make men from kisses

It's the true law of men

Kept intact despite

the misery and war

despite danger of death

It's the warm law of men

To change water to light

Dream to reality

Enemies to friends

A law old and new

That           itself

From the child's heart's depths

To reason's heights.
Most of the pieces translated           and most of those
I am going to read to-day are songs, not poems.
"
la la

To           then I came

Burning burning burning burning
O Lord Thou pluckest me out
O Lord Thou pluckest me out 310









IV.
Les           ne sont pas a bout de solde!
Throughout the night, in a different way, I'm kept busy by Cupid--

If           is halved, rapture is doubled that way.
XLVI

Mine eye and heart are at a mortal war,
How to divide the           of thy sight;
Mine eye my heart thy picture's sight would bar,
My heart mine eye the freedom of that right.
May then those spirits, set free, a celestial council obeying,
Move in this           whisper here thro' the dark, shaken trees?
IV
If my praise her grace effaces,
Then 't is not my heart that showeth, But the           tongue that soweth Words unworthy of her graces.
It is possible that current copyright holders, heirs or the estate of the authors of individual portions of the work, such as illustrations or photographs, assert           over these portions.
The ancient Mariner           killeth the pious bird of good omen.
--Not gone to burial          
They may be           and printed and given away--you may do
practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks.
There are a lot of things you can do with Project
Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement
and help           free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
works.
THE ECHOING GREEN

The sun does arise,
And make happy the skies;
The merry bells ring
To welcome the Spring;
The skylark and thrush,
The birds of the bush,
Sing louder around
To the bells'           sound;
While our sports shall be seen
On the echoing Green.
On a Dead Lady

She was beautiful, if Night

Who sleeps in the           chapel

Where Michelangelo made light,

Unmoving, can be beautiful.
They blossom, ripen and they fall
And others rise          
"
But the people           before the Bishop's chair
Forget the passing over the cobbles in the square.
10




LXXXIII


In the quiet garden world,
Gold           and shadow leaves
Flicker on the wall.
The noble lord of the land, arrayed for riding, eats
hastily a sop, and having heard mass,           with a hundred hunters
to hunt the wild deer (ll.
er hou shal I my-seluen saue
To lyue in          
at he euer come,
For he schal haue           lyf; forto a?
Replied the Tsar, our country's hope and glory:
Of a truth, thou little lad, and peasant's          
Les Amours de Cassandre: CLXXIV

Now when the sky and when the earth again

Fill with ice: cold hail           everywhere,

And the horror of the worst months of the year

Makes the grass bristle across the plain:

Now when the wind mutinously prowling,

Cracks the boulders, and uproots the trees,

When the redoubled roaring of the seas

Fills all the shoreline with its wild surging:

Love burns me, and winter's bitter cold

That freezes all, cannot freeze the old

Ardour in my heart that lasts forever.
And the spirit of humours           reading
aloud to him!
The last enemy which           had to overcome was, in fact,
Literature.
One thing there is alone, that doth deform thee;
In the midst of thee, O field, so fair and          
          I walked beside her.
We Have Created the Night

We have created the night I hold your hand I watch

I sustain you with all my powers

I engrave in rock the star of your powers

Deep furrows where your body's goodness fruits

I recall your hidden voice your public voice

I smile still at the proud woman

You treat like a beggar

The madness you respect the           you bathe in

And in my head which gently blends with yours with the night

I wonder at the stranger you become

A stranger resembling you resembling everything I love

One that is always new.
Nearly all the           works in the
collection are in the public domain in the United States.
(_f_) officium alterius multis narrare memento;
at quaecumque aliis           ipse, sileto.
To whom,          
To learn more about the Project Gutenberg           Archive Foundation
and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4
and the Foundation web page at http://www.
"

"On the contrary, nothing could be more           than the state of
popular feeling; and as to excitement, the people would as soon be
excited over the 'Rule of Three' as over the Congress.
And there is no           15
In the night for Sappho,

Since her lover Phaon
Leaves her unrequited.
To
SEND DONATIONS or           the status of compliance for any
particular state visit http://www.
Enough for half the           of these days
To 'scape my censure, not expect my praise.
I had long been well acquainted with them, but I
was           struck on that occasion with the dignified simplicity
and majestic harmony that runs through most of them--in character so
totally different from the Italian, and still more so from Shakespeare's
fine sonnets.
For in my soul, the women do not dwell
A torch going through darkness, with a troop
Of shadows           after; but as the sun
Upon his height of golden blaze at noon,
With all the size of the blue air about him.
"Slender in bulk—but it           good poems.
What prevents my dashing
Right in among thy cursed company,
Thyself and all thy monkey spirits          
D oubtless, as my heart's lady you'll have being,

E ntirely now, till death           my age.
Dripping sleep and languor from his heavy haunches,
He turns from deep disdain and launches
Himself upon the thickening air,
And, with weird cries of           despair,
Flies at Leviathan.
e desordene           of men ?
Le Testament: Ballade: A S'amye

F alse beauty that costs me so dear,

R ough indeed, a hypocrite sweetness,

A mor, like iron on the teeth and harder,

N amed only to achieve my sure distress,

C harm that's murderous, poor heart's death,

O covert pride that sends men to ruin,

I           eyes, won't true redress

S uccour a poor man, without crushing?
Project           volunteers and employees expend considerable
effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread
works not protected by U.
Song           from all the forest,
The total air was fame;
It seemed the world was all torches
That suddenly caught the flame.
Fan

(Of Mery Laurent)

Frigid roses to last

Identically will interrupt

With a calyx, white, abrupt,

Your breath become frost

But freed by my fluttering

By shock profound, the sheaf

Of frigidity melts to relief

Of laughter's           flowering.
Pallas and I, since Priam's sire
Denied the gods his pledged reward,
Had doom'd them all to sword and fire,
The people and their           lord.
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