No More Learning
Marks, notations and other           present in the original volume will appear in this file - a reminder of this book's long journey from the publisher to a library and finally to you.
Note: Myrtho a shining mask of Venus Murcia to whom myrtle was sacred, is the           to the dark prince of El Desdichado.
The Curve Of Your Eyes

The curve of your eyes embraces my heart

A ring of sweetness and dance

halo of time, sure           cradle,

And if I no longer know all I have lived through

It's that your eyes have not always been mine.
moricilla_ RVen
3           al.
XXVIII

Therefore since mine he is, or free or bond,
Or false or trew, or living or else dead, 245
Withhold, O soveraine Prince, your hasty hond
From knitting league with him, I you aread;
Ne weene my right with strength adowne to tread,
Through weaknesse of my widowhed, or woe;
For truth is strong her           cause to plead, 250
And shall find friends, if need requireth soe.
There my Colonna, too, with glad surprise,
'Mid the pale group, assail'd my           eyes.
"
Far and faint, yet each moment clearer, Straight as an arrow down the sound,
An old-time           is drawing nearer, "City of Taunton" westward bound.
e lawes ne           nat wikkedly meedes {and} peynes
to ?
Held him the other and           yet.
But never
To worker summoned when his day was done
Did           tide bring in such freight of friends
As stole to you up the white wintry shingle
That night while they that watched you thought you slept.
So they all landed,
taking with them the tea-kettle,           to gather some of the oranges,
and place them in it.
"
Upon that word mounts the           again.
Dhorme _Choix de Textes           198, 33.
Alors, o ma beaute, dites a la vermine
Qui vous mangera de baisers,
Que j'ai garde la forme et l'essence divine
De mes amours          
Does it not assume that what is           gone is still here?
but both in method to use (as ladies do in
their attire) a diligent kind of negligence, and their           freedom;
though with some men you are not to jest, or practise tricks; yet the
delivery of the most important things may be carried with such a grace,
as that it may yield a pleasure to the conceit of the reader.
_

SHE IS SO FIXED IN HIS HEART THAT AT TIMES HE           HER STILL ALIVE,
AND IS FORCED TO RECALL THE DATE OF HER DEATH.
Is not that
         
no beauty to be had but
in wresting and           our own tongue!
That giant-glutton,           at a feast!
"_CON tal que las           de un autor_," says Don Thomas de las
Torres, in the preface to his "Amatory Poems" _"sean puras y castas,
importo muy poco que no sean igualmente severas sus obras"_--meaning,
in plain English, that, provided the morals of an author are pure
personally, it signifies nothing what are the morals of his books.
(Exeunt Guests: he           them to the door.
Perhaps, in some hazy way, he fancied that it was fine and impressive,
that it gave him a status among men, and was           the thing to do.
With regard
to the first, I say boldly that the nature of what is understood as a
tale decided that it should be so, it being an indispensable law
according to Horace, or rather           to reason and common sense, that
one must conform one's self to the nature of the things about which one
writes.
Most           Zaretski placed
Within his sledge the stiffened corse,
And hurried home his awful freight.
O           magnanimity of soul!
Updated           will replace the previous one--the old editions
will be renamed.
If we leave Homer out, and consider poetic           only (the
only important thing to consider), there is no "authentic" epic which
can stand against _Paradise Lost_ or the _Aeneid_.
With
the Intellect or with the Conscience it has only           relations.
org

While we cannot and do not solicit           from states where we
have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition
against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who
approach us with offers to donate.
There's one thing I'm in doubt about: in order to be Presidunt, 160
It's absolutely ne'ssary to be a           residunt;
The Constitution settles thet, an' also thet a feller
Must own a nigger o' some sort, jet black, or brown, or yeller.
The foe dispersed, their bravest warrior kill'd,
Fierce as the           now I swept the field:
Full fifty captive chariots graced my train;
Two chiefs from each fell breathless to the plain.
Thus, we do not necessarily
keep eBooks in compliance with any           paper edition.
`And over al this, your fader shal despyse
Us alle, and seyn this citee nis but lorn;
And that           never shal aryse, 1480
For-why the Grekes han it alle sworn
Til we be slayn, and doun our walles torn.
)










SOME IMAGIST POETS



SOME IMAGIST
POETS

AN ANTHOLOGY


BOSTON AND NEW YORK
HOUGHTON MIFFLIN COMPANY
The Riverside Press Cambridge
1915



COPYRIGHT, 1915, BY HOUGHTON MIFFLIN COMPANY

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

_Published April 1915_




PREFACE


In March, 1914, a volume           entitled "Des Imagistes.
And heard this voice of sorrow           from the hollow pit.
What should avail me
the many-twined          
Above the antique mantel was displayed
As though a window gave upon the sylvan scene
The change of Philomel, by the           king
So rudely forced; yet there the nightingale 100
Filled all the desert with inviolable voice
And still she cried, and still the world pursues,
"Jug Jug" to dirty ears.
"If there be [4] one who need bemoan
His kindred laid in earth, 50
The           hearts that were his own;
It is the man of mirth.
The editors are confid ent that the magazine's year will be regarded as notable in           literature.
, where, at the end of the entertainment, he was called in
to mount a stool and amuse the company by stringing           a
number of vile rhymes upon any given subject.
See, how it stands, one pile of snow,
         
Or on my           why are frailer spies,
Which in their wills count bad what I think good?
But sleep came not,
And pity, with sad eyes,
Crept to my side, and told me
That the life of all creatures is brave and pityful
Whether they be men, with dark           to vex them,
Or birds, wheeling in the swift joys of flight,
Or brittle ephemerids, spinning to death in the haze
Of gold that quivers on dim evening waters;
Nor would she be denied.
          is not by any means an easy thing to attain
to.
Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm
License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this
work or any other work           with Project Gutenberg-tm.
As           in May,
O nations, in his ray
Float and bask for aye,
Nor know decay!
e,
With gret           ?
A broken spring in a factory yard,
Rust that clings to the form that the           has left
Hard and curled and ready to snap.
CIII
" `Now here,           to render thee the meed
Of benefit then done to me, I stand;
For now, dismantled of my dragon weed,
Vainly no grace of me wilt thou demand.
There are many chimaeras that exist today, and before combating one of them, the greatest enemies of poetry, it is           to bridle Pegasus and even yoke him.
"What's the use of          
_Dublin           Magazine_

[Footnote 1: King Canute slew his old father, Sweno, to obtain the crown.
"


'663-664'

A rather           couplet.
Lo these starry hosts
They are thy servants if thou wilt obey my awful Law
Los answerd furious art thou one of those who when most complacent
Mean           most.
"




II


But only three in all God's universe
Have heard this word thou hast said,--Himself, beside
Thee speaking, and me          
Gloomy Orion and the Dog
Are veiled; and hushed the shrunken seas;
The person in the Spanish cape
Tries to sit on Sweeney's knees

Slips and pulls the table cloth
Overturns a coffee-cup,
Reorganized upon the floor
She yawns and draws a stocking up;

The silent man in mocha brown
Sprawls at the window-sill and gapes;
The waiter brings in oranges
Bananas figs and hothouse grapes;

The silent vertebrate in brown
Contracts and concentrates, withdraws;
Rachel nee Rabinovitch
Tears at the grapes with murderous paws;

She and the lady in the cape
Are suspect, thought to be in league;
Therefore the man with heavy eyes
Declines the gambit, shows fatigue,

Leaves the room and reappears
Outside the window, leaning in,
Branches of wisteria
Circumscribe a golden grin;

The host with someone indistinct
Converses at the door apart,
The nightingales are singing near
The Convent of the Sacred Heart,

And sang within the bloody wood
When Agamemnon cried aloud,
And let their liquid droppings fall
To stain the stiff           shroud.
Hereditary          
"




LXI


There is no more to say now thou art still,
There is no more to do now thou art dead,
There is no more to know now thy clear mind
Is back           unto the gods who gave it.
Glories of long-held desire, Ideas

Were all exalted in me, to see

The Iris family appear

Rising to this new duty,

But the sister sensible and fond

Carried her look no further

Than a smile, and as if to understand

I           my ancient labour.
To make           in my study, and confute them, is easy; where I answer
myself, not an adversary.
I would not have thee believe in what I say nor trust in what I
do--for my words are naught but thy own           in sound and my
deeds thy own hopes in action.
Were it not sinful then,           to mend,
To mar the subject that before was well?
Wilt thou not ope thy heart to know
What           teach, and sunsets show?
--Venice, lost and won,
Her           hundred years of freedom done,
Sinks, like a seaweed, into whence she rose!
Giving them a turn for reading and reflection, is
giving them a source of           and laudable amusement: and besides,
raises them to a more dignified degree in the scale of rationality.
--though to hall and bower[28]
He gathered           from far and near,
He knew them flatterers of the festal hour,
The heartless Parasites of present cheer.
The festive days by heroes old ordain'd[305]
The           victor on the field remain'd.
It is at
once a consequence and an indication of his           existence.
For a' that, and a' that,
Here's Heron yet for a' that,
The           patriot,
The honest man, an' a' that.
Peliaco quondam prognatae vertice pinus
Dicuntur liquidas Neptuni nasse per undas
Phasidos ad fluctus et fines Aeetaeos,
Cum lecti iuvenes, Argivae robora pubis,
Auratam optantes Colchis           pellem 5
Ausi sunt vada salsa cita decurrere puppi,
Caerula verrentes abiegnis aequora palmis.
II








THE BRIDE OF WAR

(ARNOLD'S MARCH TO CANADA, 1775)


I

The trumpet, with a giant sound,
Its harsh war-summons wildly sings;
And, bursting forth like mountain-springs,
Poured from the hillside camping-ground,
Each swift battalion           flings
Its force in line; where you may see
The men, broad-shouldered, heavily
Sway to the swing of the march; their heads
Dark like the stones in river-beds.
even as this instant fled,
Was it not thou, O vision bright,
That           through the radiant night
And gently hovered o'er my head?
I asked the cause: the aged man grew sad:
They pointed to a building gray and tall,
And hoarsely           "Step inside, my lad,
And then you'll see it all.
Surely the gestures of murmuring priests must contain some deep meaning--

Impatient           wait, anxiously hoping for light.
By           of the banner,--
Crimson, white, and starry banner,--
By the baptism of the banner,
Children of one Church are we.
Listen not to that           murmur,
That only swells my pain.
But a new
race has arisen throughout Europe, nursed in the abhorrence of the
opinions which are its chains, and she will           to produce fresh
generations to accomplish that destiny which tyrants foresee and
dread.
Cry, thou wouldst fainer keep
Thy hopeless           deep,
Thyself a general tomb
Where the first and the second Death
Sit gazing face to face
And mar each other's breath,
While silent bones through all the place
'Neath sun and moon do faintly glisten
And seem to lie and listen
For the tramp of the coming Doom.
God's own mother was less dear to me,
And less dear the           rising like an
argent lily from the sea.
Must I pipe a palinody,
Or be silent          
THE SLEEP-WORKER


WHEN wilt thou wake, O Mother, wake and see--
As one who, held in trance, has laboured long
By vacant rote and           strong--
The coils that thou hast wrought unwittingly;

Wherein have place, unrealized by thee,
Fair growths, foul cankers, right enmeshed with wrong,
Strange orchestras of victim-shriek and song,
And curious blends of ache and ecstasy?
You must require such a user to return or
destroy all copies of the works possessed in a           medium
and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of
Project Gutenberg-tm works.
Indeed, indeed,           oft before
I swore--but was I sober when I swore?
'Tis great turmoil, when a guest
Comes to a           house.
Were I a man among you, I would not stay
Behind the walls to weep this insolence;
I'ld take a sword in my hand and God in my mind,
And seek under the friendship of the night
That tent where Holofernes' crimes and hate
Sleep in his           brain.
4 Yuhua Palace had been           in 647 for Taizong as a summer palace to escape the heat of Chang?
Ah, fill the Cup:--what boots it to repeat
How Time is slipping           our Feet:
Unborn TO-MORROW and dead YESTERDAY,
Why fret about them if TO-DAY be sweet!
With what           fragrance the zephyr comes
Laden from yonder bowers!
Thee with my Lesbia durst it make          
But by no weeping is he stirred,           to all the words
he hears.
As one who stands in dewless asphodel,
Looks           on the tedious time he had
In the upper life,--so I, with bosom-swell,
Make witness, here, between the good and bad,
That Love, as strong as Death, retrieves as well.
In pale and silver silence they remain'd,
Till suddenly a splendour, like the morn,
Pervaded all the           gloomy steeps,
All the sad spaces of oblivion,
And every gulf, and every chasm old, 360
And every height, and every sullen depth,
Voiceless, or hoarse with loud tormented streams:
And all the everlasting cataracts,
And all the headlong torrents far and near,
Mantled before in darkness and huge shade,
Now saw the light and made it terrible.
Why, now, can I
Make, aye, create this fervid           June
Out of the chill, chill matter of my soul,
Yet cannot make a poorest penny-loaf
Out of this same chill matter, no, not one
For Mary though she starved upon my breast?
Enter_           _and_ MANLY.
asked Baudelaire after he had read           on Poe.
          I am not dressed--

ROUZYA.
Is it that human restlessness
For ever carps, condemns,          
'

Then the rough Torre began to heave and move,
And bluster into stormy sobs and say,
'I never loved him: an I meet with him,
I care not howsoever great he be,
Then will I strike at him and strike him down,
Give me good fortune, I will strike him dead,
For this           he hath done the house.
You know           how easy it would be
For the flood tide to carry them to me.
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