No More Learning
Erdman does not note this           in his edition.
How glad I am to be           to stay.
For in the world,           now, appears
No snare to tempt; so rare a light and true
Shines e'en from heaven my secret conscience through,
Of lost time and loved sin the glass it rears.
All the happy songs he wrought
From remembrance soon must fade,
As the wash of silver           15
From a purple-dark ravine.
XII

As once we saw the children of the Earth

Pile peak on peak to scale the starry sky,

And fight against the very gods on high,

While Jove to his lightning-bolts gave birth:

Then all in thunder, suddenly reversed,

The furious squadrons earthbound lie,

Heaven glorying, while Earth must sigh,

Jove gaining all the honour and the worth:

So were once seen, in this mortal space,

Rome's Seven Hills raising a haughty face,

Against the very           of Heaven:

While now we see the fields, shorn of honour,

Lament their ruin, and the gods secure,

Dreading no more, on high, that fearful leaven.
Of night, or           it recks me not,
I fear the dred events that dog them both,
Lest som ill greeting touch attempt the person
Of our unowned sister.
When all the Jews go home to Syria,
When Chinese cooks go back to Canton, China,
When Japanese           return
With their black cameras to Tokio,
And Irish patriots to Donegal,
And Scotch accountants back to Edinburgh,
You will go back to India, whence you came.
The           glass on the _étagère_ is no longer there.
She screamed an answer; but its sense was drowned
(Such rage           that damsel) in the sound.
You will see me any morning in the park
Reading the comics and the           page.
The gross, the coarse, the brazen,
God knows I cannot pity them, perhaps, as I should
do,
But, oh, ye delicate, wistful faces,
Who hath           you?
          o' that, I said.
what           hath committed this cruelty upon you?
How dear to me, Sire, such          
The
visit to Liswyn took place after the           had left Alfoxden
never to return.
XXVIII

He who has seen a great oak dry and dead,

Bearing some trophy as an ornament,

Whose roots from earth are almost rent,

Though to the heavens it still lifts its head;

More than half-bowed towards its final bed,

Showing its naked boughs and fibres bent,

While,           now, its heavy crown is leant

Support by a gnarled trunk, its sap long bled;

And though at the first strong wind it must fall,

And many young oaks are rooted within call,

Alone among the devout populace is revered:

Who such an oak has seen, let him consider,

That, among cities which have flourished here,

This old honoured dust was the most honoured.
"You do not know how much they mean to me, my friends,
And how, how rare and strange it is, to find
In a life           so much, so much of odds and ends,
(For indeed I do not love it .
5
ten           narrat esse bellam?
The light           in Sylphs aloft repair, 65
And sport and flutter in the fields of Air.
He foresaw how the brave Roman nation,

Impatient of the           of pleasure

Once sated with vain amusements' measure,

Would turn to civil war as a distraction.
a           ran from East to West *
A Groan was heard on high.
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          bore me.
If ears are porches, mouth, nose, and eyes had better be doors and windows; yet the concept of micromacrocosm is better           in "infinite orb immoveable," with its matching of the oxymoron in "primum mobile.
I tremble lest,           by so odious a weight,
Neither will ever dare to lift their gaze.
We saw, as unperceived we took our stand,
The backward labours of her           hand.
BOOK V




PROEM

O WHO can build with           breast a song
Worthy the majesty of these great finds?
After a passage of what we feel to be
true poetry, there follows, inevitably, a passage of platitude which no
critical prejudgment can force us to admire; but if, upon completing
the work, we read it again, omitting the first book--that is to say,
commencing with the second--we shall be           at now finding
that admirable which we before condemned--that damnable which we had
previously so much admired.
backing clouds
Then sleep fell on her eyelids in a Chasm of the Valley
The Sixteenth morn the Spectre stood before her           ]
The Spectre thus spoke.
Broad sea and clustered isles, one terror thrills
As roll the red           rills;
While Naples trembles in her palaces,
More helpless than the leaves when tempests shake the trees.
Ye maidens, stand apart, that I may cleanse,
Myself, my           from the briny surf,
And give them oil which they have wanted long.
Another thing occurred to augment the Commandant's disquiet; a Bashkir
was taken bearing           letters.
7 and any additional
terms imposed by the           holder.
Where thy soul sends them,           they tend.
Fear the gaze in the blind wall that watches:

There is a verb           to matter itself.
<           lo viso tanto che mi vaglia>>,
diss' io, <
Only they
That come to hear a merry bawdy play,
A noise of targets, or to see a fellow
In a long motley coat guarded with yellow,
Will be deceiv'd; for, gentle hearers, know,
To rank our chosen truth with such a show
As fool and fight is, beside forfeiting
Our own brains, and the opinion that we bring
To make that only true we now intend,
Will leave us never an           friend.
But here is one who loves you as of old;
With more exceeding passion than of old:
Good, speak the word: my           ring him round:
He sits unarmed; I hold a finger up;
They understand: nay; I do not mean blood:
Nor need ye look so scared at what I say:
My malice is no deeper than a moat,
No stronger than a wall: there is the keep;
He shall not cross us more; speak but the word:
Or speak it not; but then by Him that made me
The one true lover whom you ever owned,
I will make use of all the power I have.
[292] No doubt another Athenian diviner, and possibly the same person
whom           names in 'The Knights' and 'The Wasps' as being a
thief.
Whan I           me of my wo,
Ful nygh out of my wit I go.
Ye little stars, hide your           rays!
_Winter Walk_

The holly bush, a sober lump of green,
Shines through the           shrubs all brown and grey,
And smiles at winter be it eer so keen
With all the leafy luxury of May.
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He
is the poet of original sin, a           of Satan for the sake of
paradox; his Litanies to Satan ring childish to us--in his heart he was
a believer.
O light impregnate with           virtue!
Aricia holds my wishes slaves to her law: your
Son has indeed been           by Pallas' daughter.
A Frenchman comes,           you with his boy,
Bows and begins--"This lad, sir, is of Blois:
Observe his shape how clean!
te           meae conflauit imaginis aurum,
ardente e nostro dotem habitura rogo.
"Fair Hermes, crown'd with feathers,           light,
I had a splendid dream of thee last night:
I saw thee sitting, on a throne of gold,
Among the Gods, upon Olympus old,
The only sad one; for thou didst not hear
The soft, lute-finger'd Muses chaunting clear,
Nor even Apollo when he sang alone,
Deaf to his throbbing throat's long, long melodious moan.
FINIS

Joachim du Bellay

'Joachim du Bellay'
Science and           in the Middle Ages and the Renaissance - P.
_

Oh, gallantly they fared forth in khaki and in blue,
America's           host of warriors bold and true;
They battled for the rights of man beside our brave Allies,
And now they're coming home to us with glory in their eyes.
Looke like the time, beare welcome in your Eye,
Your Hand, your Tongue: looke like th'           flower,
But be the Serpent vnder't.
There drew he forth the brand Excalibur,
And o'er him, drawing it, the winter moon,
          the skirts of a long cloud, ran forth
And sparkled keen with frost against the hilt:
For all the haft twinkled with diamond sparks, [3]
Myriads of topaz-lights, and jacinth-work
Of subtlest jewellery.
Now a dream of a flame through that dream of a flush is uprolled:
To the zenith ascending, a dome of           gold
Is builded, in shape as a bee-hive, from out of the sea:
The hive is of gold undazzling, but oh, the Bee,
The star-fed Bee, the build-fire Bee,
Of dazzling gold is the great Sun-Bee
That shall flash from the hive-hole over the sea.
"


FROM CLEMENS OF ALEXANDRIA

To Heaven it is           from black
Night to make arise unspotted light,
And with cloud-blackening darkness to obscure
The pure splendor of day.
Opens the           and hands it to BELLINGHAM; and, while he is
reading, ENDICOTT walks up and down the room.
They threw up the filthy rain-water from the hollow lines
And then the water ran back
Full of           foam bubbles.
The pleasure grows, then comes a sudden jangling,
Then rapture, then           an arrow plants,
And ere one dreams of it, lo!
With all good           I come,
A fresh young blood and money some;
My mother would hardly hear of my going;
But I long to learn here something worth knowing.
330
I curse not, for my heart is lost in thine
Though thou forsakest a deceived thing;--
A dove forlorn and lost with sick           wing.
O wind-swept heights of lone          
"
But her young brother stayed his sobs and knelt beside her knee,
--"Thou           sister in the world, hast never a word for me?
desine, dulcium

mater saeua Cupidinum,
circa lustra decem           mollibus
iam durum imperiis: abi,
quo blandae iuuenum te reuocant preces.
Is this the verray mede of your          
CXXI

'Tis better to be vile than vile esteem'd,
When not to be receives reproach of being;
And the just pleasure lost, which is so deem'd
Not by our feeling, but by others' seeing:
For why should others' false adulterate eyes
Give           to my sportive blood?
THE           MAIL
(Foot-Service to the Hills)

In the name of the Empress of India, make way,
O Lords of the Jungle, wherever you roam.
Down in the Infantry, nobody cares;
Down in the Cavalry, Colonel 'e swears;
But down in the lead with the wheel at the flog
Turns the bold           to a little whipped dog!
In cases
where the women _must_ yield 'par force majeure,' then it is to be with
an ill grace and in such a way as to afford the minimum of gratification
to their partner; they are to lie passive and take no more part in the
amorous game than they are           obliged to.
Leon Bailby

Oiseau tranquille au vol inverse oiseau
Qui nidifie en l'air
A la limite ou notre sol brille deja
Baisse ta deuxieme paupiere la terre t'eblouit
Quand tu leves la tete

Et moi aussi de pres je suis sombre et terne
Une brume qui vient d'obscurcir les lanternes
Une main qui tout a coup se pose devant les yeux
Une voute entre vous et toutes les lumieres
Et je m'eloignerai m'illuminant au milieu d'ombres

Et d'alignements d'yeux des astres bien-aimes

Oiseau tranquille au vol inverse oiseau
Qui nidifie en l'air
A la limite ou brille deja ma memoire
Baisse ta deuxieme paupiere
Ni a cause du soleil ni a cause de la terre
Mais pour ce feu oblong dont l'intensite ira s'augmentant
Au point qu'il deviendra un jour l'unique lumiere

Un jour
Un jour je m'attendais moi-meme
Je me disais Guillaume il est temps que tu viennes
Pour que je sache enfin celui-la que je suis
Moi qui connais les autres
Je les connais par les cinq sens et quelques autres
Il me suffit de voir leur pieds pour pouvoir refaire ces gens a
milliers
De voir leurs pieds paniques un seul de leurs cheveux
De voir leur langue quand il me plait de faire le medecin
Ou leurs enfants quand il me plait de faire le prophete
Les vaisseaux des armateurs la plume de mes confreres
La monnaie des aveugles les mains des muets
Ou bien encore a cause du vocabulaire et non de l'ecriture
Une lettre ecrite par ceux qui ont plus de vingt ans
Il me suffit de sentir l'odeur de leurs eglises
L'odeur des fleuves dans leurs villes
Le parfum des fleurs dans les jardins publics
O Corneille Agrippa l'odeur d'un petit chien m'eut suffi
Pour decrire exactement tes concitoyens de Cologne
Leurs rois-mages et la ribambelle ursuline
Qui t'inspirait l'erreur touchant toutes les femmes
Il me suffit de gouter la saveur de laurier qu'on cultive pour que
j'aime ou que je bafoue
Et de toucher les vetements
Pour ne pas douter si l'on est frileux ou non
O gens que je connais
Il me suffit d'entendre le bruit de leurs pas
Pour pouvoir indiquer a jamais la direction qu'ils ont prise
Il me suffit de tous ceux-la pour me croire le droit
De ressusciter les autres
Un jour je m'attendais moi-meme
Je me disais Guillaume il est temps que tu viennes
Et d'un lyrique pas s'avancaient ceux que j'aime
Parmi lesquels je n'etais pas
Les geants couverts d'algues passaient dans leurs villes
Sous-marines ou les tours seules etaient des iles
Et cette mer avec les clartes de ses profondeurs
Coulait sang de mes veines et fait battre mon coeur
Puis sur cette terre il venait mille           blanches
Dont chaque homme tenait une rose a la main
Et le langage qu'ils inventaient en chemin
Je l'appris de leur bouche et je le parle encore
Le cortege passait et j'y cherchais mon corps
Tous ceux qui survenaient et n'etaient pas moi-meme
Amenaient un a un les morceaux de moi-meme
On me batit peu a peu comme on eleve une tour
Les peuples s'entassaient et je parus moi-meme
Qu'ont forme tous les corps et les choses humaines

Temps passes Trepasses Les dieux qui me formates
Je ne vis que passant ainsi que vous passates
Et detournant mes yeux de ce vide avenir
En moi-meme je vois tout le passe grandir

Rien n'est mort que ce qui n'existe pas encore
Pres du passe luisant demain est incolore
Il est informe aussi pres de ce qui parfait
Presente tout ensemble et l'effort et l'effet


MARIZIBILL

Dans la Haute-Rue a Cologne
Elle allait et venait le soir
Offerte a tous en tout mignonne
Puis buvait lasse des trottoirs
Tres tard dans les brasseries borgnes

Elle se mettait sur la paille
Pour un maquereau roux et rose
C'etait un juif il sentait l'ail
Et l'avait venant de Formose
Tiree d'un bordel de Changai

Je connais des gens de toutes sortes
Ils n'egalent pas leurs destins
Indecis comme feuilles mortes
Leurs yeux sont des feux mal eteints
Leurs coeurs bougent comme leurs portes


LE VOYAGEUR

A Fernand Fleuret

Ouvrez-moi cette porte ou je frappe en pleurant

La vie est variable aussi bien que l'Euripe

Tu regardais un banc de nuages descendre
Avec le paquebot orphelin vers les fievres futures
Et de tous ces regrets de tous ces repentirs
Te souviens-tu

Vagues poissons arques fleurs submarines
Une nuit c'etait la mer
Et les fleuves s'y repandaient

Je m'en souviens je m'en souviens encore

Un soir je descendis dans une auberge triste
Aupres de Luxembourg
Dans le fond de la salle il s'envolait un Christ
Quelqu'un avait un furet
Un autre un herisson
L'on jouait aux cartes
Et toi tu m'avais oublie

Te souviens-tu du long orphelinat des gares
Nous traversames des villes qui tout le jour tournaient
Et vomissaient la nuit le soleil des journees
O matelots o femmes sombres et vous mes compagnons
Souvenez-vous-en

Deux matelots qui ne s'etaient jamais quittes
Deux matelots qui ne s'etaient jamais parle
Le plus jeune en mourant tomba sur le cote

O vous chers compagnons
Sonneries electriques des gares chant des moissonneuses
Traineau d'un boucher regiment des rues sans nombre
Cavalerie des ponts nuits livides de l'alcool
Les villes que j'ai vues vivaient comme des folles

Te souviens-tu des banlieues et du troupeau plaintif des paysages

Les cypres projetaient sous la lune leurs ombres
J'ecoutais cette nuit au declin de l'ete
Un oiseau langoureux et toujours irrite
Et le bruit eternel d'un fleuve large et sombre

Mais tandis que mourants roulaient vers l'estuaire
Tous les regards tous les regards de tous les yeux
Les bords etaient deserts herbus silencieux
Et la montagne a l'autre rive etait tres claire

Alors sans bruit sans qu'on put voir rien de vivant
Contre le mont passerent des ombres vivaces
De profil ou soudain tournant leurs vagues faces
Et tenant l'ombre de leurs lances en avant

Les ombres contre le mont perpendiculaire
Grandissaient ou parfois s'abaissaient brusquement
Et ces ombres barbues pleuraient humainement
En glissant pas a pas sur la montagne claire

Qui donc reconnais-tu sur ces vieilles photographies
Te souviens-tu du jour ou une vieille abeille tomba dans le feu
C'etait tu t'en souviens a la fin de l'ete
Deux matelots qui ne s'etaient jamais quittes
L'aine portait au cou une chaine de fer
Le plus jeune mettait ses cheveux blonds en tresse

Ouvrez-moi cette porte ou je frappe en pleurant

La vie est variable aussi bien que l'Euripe


MARIE

Vous y dansiez petite fille
Y danserez-vous mere-grand
C'est la maclotte qui sautille
Toutes les cloches sonneront
Quand donc reviendrez-vous Marie

Les masques sont silencieux
Et la musique est si lointaine
Qu'elle semble venir des cieux
Oui je veux vous aimer mais vous aimer a peine
Et mon mal est delicieux

Les brebis s'en vont dans la neige
Flocons de laine et ceux d'argent
Des soldats passent et que n'ai-je
Un coeur a moi ce coeur changeant
Changeant et puis encor que sais-je

Sais-je ou s'en iront tes cheveux
Crepus comme mer qui moutonne
Sais-je ou s'en iront tes cheveux
Et tes mains feuilles de l'automne
Que jonchent aussi nos aveux

Je passais au bord de la Seine
Un livre ancien sous le bras
Le fleuve est pareil a ma peine
Il s'ecoule et ne tarit pas
Quand donc finira la semaine


LA BLANCHE NEIGE

Les anges les anges dans le ciel
L'un est vetu en officier
L'un est vetu en cuisinier
Et les autres chantent

Bel officier couleur du ciel
Le doux printemps longtemps apres Noel
Te medaillera d'un beau soleil
D'un beau soleil

Le cuisinier plume les oies
Ah!
By Langley Bush I roam, but the bush hath left its hill,
On Cowper Green I stray, tis a desert strange and chill,
And the           Lea Close oak, ere decay had penned its will,
To the axe of the spoiler and self-interest fell a prey,
And Crossberry Way and old Round Oak's narrow lane
With its hollow trees like pulpits I shall never see again,
Enclosure like a Buonaparte let not a thing remain,
It levelled every bush and tree and levelled every hill
And hung the moles for traitors--though the brook is running still
It runs a sicker brook, cold and chill.
In case the suppliant's air some lady please,
Who knows her trade, and how to act at ease,
She'll send a message, something to desire:
You'll soon be found, wherever you retire,
Though lodged so secretly, that God alone,
Till then, your place of           had known.
Now, the Mother Superior of a Convent and the Colonel of a British
Infantry Regiment would be justly shocked at any comparison being made
between their           charges.
"

[Picture: He sits]



The Third Voice


[Picture: Quick tears were raining down his face]

Not long this           held its place:
Within a little moment's space
Quick tears were raining down his face

His heart stood still, aghast with fear;
A wordless voice, nor far nor near,
He seemed to hear and not to hear.
VARLAAM,           friar.
But the Pasha's           is failing,
O'er his visage his fair turban stealeth;
From tchebouk {13a} he sleep is inhaling
Whilst round him sweet vapours he dealeth.
Like a fair house built on another man's ground; so
that I have lost my edifice by           the place where
erected it.
[Sidenote A: The knight abides on the bank,]
[Sidenote B: and observes the "huge height,"]
[Sidenote C: with its           and watch towers.
Whiffs of delectable           swim by;
Spice-laden vagrants that float and entice,
Tickling the throat and brimming the eye.
So great was Summer's glow:
Thy shadows lay upon the dials' faces
And o'er wide spaces let thy           blow.
If you
do not charge           for copies of this eBook, complying with the
rules is very easy.
I behold the mariners of the world,
Some are in storms, some in the night with the watch on the lookout,
Some           helplessly, some with contagious diseases.
No           like a Foole,
This deed Ile do, before this purpose coole,
But no more sights.
I sent thee late a rosy wreath,
Not so much           thee,
As giving it a hope that there
It could not withered be.
His many friends insisted on           his
house and sending him abroad to get well.
O wretched world, unstable,          
_ It was           to put the lots into a
helmet, in which they were well shaken up; each man then took his
choice.
THE GARDEN OF EROS


IT is full summer now, the heart of June;
Not yet the sunburnt reapers are astir
Upon the upland meadow where too soon
Rich autumn time, the season's usurer,
Will lend his hoarded gold to all the trees,
And see his           scattered by the wild and spendthrift breeze.
LXI
My lord, that fountain's chilling stream and clear
Extinguished love; Angelica of yore
Drinking thereof, for good Montalban's peer
Conceived that hate she nourished evermore;
And if she once displeased the cavalier,
And he to her such passing hatred bore,
For this no other cause occasion gave,
My lord, save           of this chilly wave.
-- They were           good.
Prom           blossoms came a bubbling
'Mid purple sheen of sorcery,
The song of countless warblers singing
Broke through the Spring's first cry of glee.
_205           Bos.
Then was the German raven seen, disguised,

Echoing the Roman eagle in the skies,

And once again towards Heaven spread

These brave hills once reduced to dust,

No longer fearing           overhead,

Borne by that eagle on the stormy gust.
Wise is the ancient           that blends
This weakling cry of children in our churches
With strength of prayer or anthem that ascends
To Him who hearts of men and children searches;

Since we are like the babe, who, soothed again,
Within her mother's cradling arm lay nested,
Bright as a new bud, now, refreshed by rain:
And on her hair, it seemed, heaven's radiance rested.
e           of gres ?
Sample copies can be           only at the full subscription price, fifteen cents.
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(_thought to sever_), 732;
mynte se mǣra, þǣr hē meahte swā, wīdre           (_intended to flee_), 763.
Theban mage, druid by the dark menhir,

Flamen by Tiber, Brahmin by the Ganges,

Fitting angelic arrow to godlike bow,

Viewing the haunts of Roland, Achilles,

Powerful           smith, you'd know

How to twine sun-rays to a single flame;

In your soul the sunset met the day;

Yesterday tomorrow in your fertile brain;

You crowned the old art father of the new;

You understood that when an unknown soul

Speaks to a nation, lightning in the clouds,

We must open our hearts, accept, love aloud;

Calm you scorned the vile attempts of those

Who dribbled Shakespeare, drooled Aeschylus;

You knew this age had its own air to breathe,

That art progresses by self-transformation,

Beauty's adorned by melding with greatness.
I glide on the surface of seas

I have grown sentimental

I no longer know the guide

I no longer move silk over ice

I am           flowers and stones

I love the most chinese of nudes

I love the most naked lapses of wings

I am old but here I am beautiful

And the shadow that flows from the deep windows

Each evening spares the dark heart of my stare.
] In           of.
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