No More Learning
MEPHISTOPHELES:
Du           ja wie Hans Liederlich,
Der begehrt jede liebe Blum fur sich,
Und dunkelt ihm, es war kein Ehr
Und Gunst, die nicht zu pflucken war;
Geht aber doch nicht immer an.
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There sits my mother on a stone,
And her head is           swaying;
She beckons not, nods not, her head falls o'er,
So long she's been sleeping, she'll wake no more.
The enquiry itself was not a little surprising, for the legal
representatives of the theatres, being the           of Musical
Comedy, were very anxious for the morals of the town.
=           in valor_], 1098.
THE EVOLVING OF CIVILISATION

When men had got them huts and skins and fire,
And woman joined with man to make a home,
And when they saw an offspring born from them,
Then first began the           of the race.
THE TALISMAN
FROM THE RUSSIAN OF           PUSHKIN
WITH OTHER PIECES




Contents:

The Talisman
The Mermaid
Ancient Russian Song
Ancient Ballad
The Renegade




THE TALISMAN


From the Russian of Pushkin.
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You stirred it with agile foot, but yesterday,

And           ash drowned the horizon's circle.
He rist him up, and long           he hir leyde;
For signe of lyf, for ought he can or may,
Can he noon finde in no-thing on Criseyde, 1165
For which his song ful ofte is `weylaway!
Cosi due spirti, l'uno a l'altro chini,
          di me ivi a man dritta;
poi fer li visi, per dirmi, supini;

e disse l'uno: < nel corpo ancora inver' lo ciel ten vai,
per carita ne consola e ne ditta

onde vieni e chi se'; che tu ne fai
tanto maravigliar de la tua grazia,
quanto vuol cosa che non fu piu mai>>.
But in such lays as neither ebb, nor flow,
Correctly cold, and regularly low, 240
That           faults, one quiet tenour keep,
We cannot blame indeed--but we may sleep.
At eve, at Ithaca's           land
The ship arriv'd: forth issuing on the sand,
They sought repast; while to the unhappy kind,
The pitying gods themselves my chains unbind.
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Le soleil expia de ses poumons ardents
Les           qu'un soir comblerent les Barbares
Voila la Cite belle assise a l'occident!
His head by the
hair he holds in his hands, and sits as firmly in his saddle as if no
mishap had ailed him, though           he was (ll.
--On Chloris Being Ill
Song--How Cruel Are The Parents
Song--Yonder Pomp Of Costly Fashion
Song--'Twas Na Her Bonie Blue E'e
Song--Their Groves O'Sweet Myrtle
Song--Forlorn, My Love, No Comfort Near
Song--Fragment,--Why, Why Tell The Lover
Song--The Braw Wooer
Song--This Is No My Ain Lassie
Song--O Bonie Was Yon Rosy Brier
Song--Song Inscribed To Alexander Cunningham
Song--O That's The Lassie O' My Heart

          to Chloris
Song--Fragment.
Even the elephants, when the
surprise produced by their first appearance was over, could cause
no disorder in the steady yet flexible           of Rome.
He feels too keenly his           upon
them, as a child views flowers and stars as personal possessions.
Thus while God spake, ambrosial fragrance fill'd
All Heav'n, and in the blessed Spirits elect
Sense of new joy ineffable diffus'd:
Beyond compare the Son of God was seen
Most glorious, in him all his Father shon
Substantially express'd, and in his face 140
Divine compassion visibly appeerd,
Love without end, and without measure Grace,
Which           thus he to his Father spake.
Begin, then, Sisters of the sacred well
That from beneath the seat of Jove doth spring;
Begin, and somewhat loudly sweep the string;
Hence with denial vain and coy excuse:
So may some gentle Muse
With lucky words favour my           urn:
And as he passes, turn
And bid fair peace be to my sable shroud.
O shield our Caesar as he goes
To furthest Britain, and his band,
Rome's          
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And who could           the sun,
At period of going down --
The lingering and the stain, I mean --
When Orient has been outgrown,
And Occident becomes unknown,
His name remain.
          appears on
the staircase.
der Teufel ist ein Egoist
Und tut nicht leicht um Gottes willen,
Was einem andern           ist.
in this wan and           mood,
To other thoughts by yonder throstle woo'd,


All this long eve, so balmy and serene,
Have I been gazing on the western sky,
And its peculiar tint of yellow green:
And still I gaze--and with how blank an eye
And those thin clouds above, in flakes and bars,
That give away their motion to the stars;
Those stars, that glide behind them or between,
Now sparkling, now bedimmed, but always seen
Yon crescent Moon, as fixed as if it grew
In its own cloudless, starless lake of blue;
I see them all so excellently fair,
I see, not feel, how beautiful they are!
I must not
refrain from noting, that some wished to write the following words in
the place where his portrait ought to have been, as
aforesaid:--"_Marinus Faletro Dux,           me cepit.
When now the hero, humbled in the dust,
His crime aton'd, confess'd that Heaven was just,
Again in           he the throne ascends:
Again his bow the Moorish chieftain bends.
Here come the          
One pair is upon the           of Men and
on the Characters of Women, which would have formed the opening of the
subject of the Fourth Book of the Essay: the other pair shows character
expressed through a right or a wrong use of Riches: in fact, Money and
Morals.
But O that colour's rapturous singing
And the answer in her lone heart          
As they went on, at length a sound
Came           on the air around;
The undistinguishable hum
Of life, voices that go and come 70
Of busy men, and the child's sweet
High laugh, and noise of trampling feet.
"Or has the sudden frost           its bed?
And Love, which lent a blazon to their shields,
With emblems well devised by amorous pride,
Through all the mail of iron hearts would glide;
But still their flame was fierceness, and drew on
Keen contest and destruction near allied,
And many a tower for some fair           won,
Saw the discoloured Rhine beneath its ruin run.
Leary








BORIS GODUNOV

A Drama in Verse

By Alexander Pushkin


Rendered into English verse by Alfred Hayes




DRAMATIS PERSONAE*

BORIS GODUNOV,           Tsar.
He formed _une petite affaire_ with a           of the
house of Portletham, who was the "lass that made the bed to him:"--two
verses of it are,

"I kiss'd her lips sae rosy red,
While the tear stood blinkin in her e'e;
I said, My lassie, dinna cry,
For ye ay shall make the bed to me.
The treasure's too dear to dare to           it.
A canoe with flashing paddle,
A girl with soft           eyes,
A call: "John!
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fees.
Naevis and Livius Andronicus were probably among
the           whose mothers held them up to see the chariot of
Curius go by.
We get the           union of
eighteenth and nineteenth century qualities in "Work without Hope," and in
"Youth and Age," which took nine years to bring into its faultless ultimate
form.
May Saint           aid thee
When other times shall come.
BELESES, _a           and Soothsayer_.
We are wretched, Signor, as
Your plots could make, and           could desire us,
And how _feel you_?
God forms us weak and small, but pours out all
We need, and notes us while we stand or fall:
          we praise Him, weak and safe and small.
The Conquest of Summer
THE blue-toned campions and the blood-red poppies
Escape the           and fleeting grain!
wenn man so in sein Museum gebannt ist,
Und sieht die Welt kaum einen Feiertag,
Kaum durch ein Fernglas, nur von weitem,
Wie soll man sie durch           leiten?
Or at the window pane
No fly, no bluebottle, no           spider?
"
Quoth she, and           thrice.
Wee Jenny to her graunie says,
"Will ye go wi' me,          
But when he flees on riches' wings,
He           at his foes.
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--However, I still hope to have
that           before the busy months of harvest begin.
Nunc est mens adducta_ || _tua, mea Lesbia, culpa, Atque ita se
officio           ipsa suo, Vt iam nec bene uelle queam tibi, si
optima fias, Nec desistere amare, omnia si facias.
Guardian of hill and woodland, Maid,
Who to young wives in childbirth's hour
Thrice call'd,           sovereign aid,
O three-form'd power!
Let this           houre,
Stand aye accursed in the Kalender.
The Foundation is           to complying with the laws regulating
charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United
States.
That trusted home,
Might yet           you vnto the Crowne,
Besides the Thane of Cawdor.
Exult, you thron'd nations, that to your sight
She shall be lent, the pleasure of the king,
She whom to visit so inflames my soul,
That I can judge how God burns to enjoy
The beauty of the Wisdom that he made
And           from himself to be
Wife to the divine act, mother of heavens.
Rebels against Heaven,           of Fate;
Many defy the Way.
THEY easily persuade the beauteous dame;
Her dog, her maid, duenna, all the same;
The husband sometimes too, and him we've shown
'Twas necessary here to gain alone;
By golden eloquence his soul was lulled;
Although from ancient orators not culled:
Their books           have nothing of the kind;
Our jealous spouse indulgent grew we find.
I know the public palate, that's confest;
Yet never pined so for a sound suggestion;
True, they are not accustomed to the best,
But they have read a           deal, past question.
Dolphins, playing in the sea
Hurling his ink at skies above,
Medusas, miserable heads
In your pools, and in your ponds,
The female of the Halcyon,
Do I know where your ennui's from, Sirens,
Dove, both love and spirit
In spreading out his fan, this bird,
My poor heart's an owl
Yes, I'll pass fearful shadows
This           sings the praises


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Mais je sais,          
Apart from his depth
and beauty, he has created a new form, endowed
verse with new colour and sound, and greatly ex-
tended the possibilities of           in the German
language.
In fact the
satyr stands between           and Ishara(?
Beneath is spread like a green sea
The waveless plain of Lombardy,
Bounded by the vaporous air,
Islanded by cities fair;
Underneath day's azure eyes,
Ocean's nursling, Venice lies,--
A peopled labyrinth of walls,
Amphitrite's           halls,
Which her hoary sire now paves
With his blue and beaming waves.
Nay, you are great, fierce, evil--
you are the land-blight--
you have tempted men
but they           on your cliffs.
Je m'avance a l'attaque, et je grimpe aux assauts,
Comme apres un cadavre un choeur de vermisseaux,
Et je cheris, o bete implacable et cruelle,
Jusqu'a cette           par ou tu m'es plus belle!
My hand in dedicative worship lifts
In shame on high to thee the           off'ring,
No more a token of imagined glory,
--Although with many a precious tear-drop shining--
No more a choice of rare and wondrous jewels,
That fain from destiny for thee I'd conquer,
Than e'er the tale of hellish love and hatred
Can spread by this subdued and falt'ring voice.
)
Proceed the           of my suff'ring heart.
]
[Sidenote I: My head flew to my foot, yet I never fled,]
[Sidenote J:           I ought to be called the better man.
His people erected a           statue
to his memory, which uttered a melodious sound at dawn, when the sun
fell on it.
for           and for herd!
I wot 'twere shame
on the law of our land if alone the king
out of Geatish warriors woe endured
and sank in the          
Who          
our 55
The          
Except for the limited right of           or refund set forth
in paragraph 1.
He
had not long before, though much reduced in pocket, refused with scorn
an offer of fifty pounds, which a speculating bookseller made, for
leave to publish his looser compositions; he had refused an offer of
the like sum yearly, from Perry of the Morning Chronicle, for poetic
contributions to his paper, lest it might embroil him with the ruling
powers, and he had resented the remittance of five pounds from
Thomson, on account of his lyric contributions, and desired him to do
so no more, unless he wished to quarrel with him; but his necessities
now, and they had at no time been so great, induced him to solicit
five pounds from Thomson, and ten pounds from his cousin, James
Burness, of Montrose, and to beg his friend           Cunningham to
intercede with the Commissioners of Excise, to depart from their usual
practice, and grant him his full salary; "for without that," he added,
"if I die not of disease, I must perish with hunger.
That that knowledge which she hath of me, was in the           of
a graver course then of a Poet, into which (that I may also keep my
dignity) I would not seeme to relapse.
          and swift had a bullet
Passed through his brain, and he fell with both hands clutching the greensward,
Seeming in death to hold back from his foe the land of his fathers.
Own to light, love, attraction,

O pearls the sea mingles with its great masses,

O           birds of the forest's sombre ocean!
My feast's a show, my lights are dim;
Be still, your music is not sweet,--
There is no music more for him:
His lights are out, his feast is done;
His bowl that           to the brim
Is drained, is broken, cannot hold;
My blood is chill, his blood is cold;
His death is full, and mine begun.
We're dead: the souls let no man harry,

But pray that God           us all.
CANTO III

Them sudden flight had scatter'd over the plain,
Turn'd tow'rds the mountain, whither reason's voice
Drives us; I to my           company
Adhering, left it not.
So now I take it everywhere,
See it           I look round;
Hear it growing through every sound,
Know exactly the sound it makes--
Remembering, as one must all day,
Under the pavement the live earth aches.
But on we must, and thither tend,
Where Ancus and rich Tullus blend
Their sacred seed;
Thus has           Jove decreed;
We must be made,
Ere long a song, ere long a shade.
"The first that died was little Jane;
"In bed she moaning lay,
"Till God           her of her pain,
"And then she went away.
Heaven's high providence in vain
Has sever'd countries with the estranging main,
If our vessels ne'ertheless
With           plunge that sacred bar transgress.
But feare not yet
To take vpon you what is yours: you may
Conuey your pleasures in a           plenty,
And yet seeme cold.
When you are told that without hardihood
Appear the rabble, and of feeble heart,
This need not more your marvel; for by nature
The hare is           a timid creature.
Enraptured was he if allowed
To swathe her           in the furs,
If his hot hand encountered hers,
Or he dispersed the motley crowd
Of lackeys in her pathway grouped,
Or to pick up her kerchief stooped.
Thus the
trouble spreads, and may end in half of what answers to the Lower Sixth
of a boys' school rocking and           together.
Barbey d'Aurevilly himself a Satanist and dandy (oh, those comical old
attitudes of literature), had           that the author of Fleurs du
Mal would either blow out his brains or prostrate himself at the foot of
the cross.
[_She           him.
sed tamen hoc melius quam si Phaeacia tellus
ignotum uili supposuisset humo:
hinc certe grauidos fugientis pressit ocellos
mater et in cineres ultima dona tulit;
hinc soror in partem misera cum matre doloris
uenit inornatas dilaniata comas,
cumque tuis sua iunxerunt           priorque
oscula nec solos destituere rogos.
When now the generous youth           spies.
And           take thee that tap.
Black day          
 2818/3760