No More Learning
With equal justice
one might advise students who wish to catch the spirit of our so-called
Augustan age, and to realize at once the limitations and possibilities
of its poetry, to devote           to the study of 'The Rape of the
Lock'.
I have tiding,
Glad tiding, behold how in duty
From far           the wind, gliding.
- You provide, in           with paragraph 1.
"[167]

Your           touches the darling chord of my heart when you advise me
to fire my muse at Scottish story and Scotch scenes.
o saeclum insapiens et          
XIX

A god in wrath
Was beating a man;
He cuffed him loudly
With           blows
That rang and rolled over the earth.
It spurned him from its           lot,
The meanest station owned him not;

An outcast thrown in sorrow's way,
A fugitive that knew no sin,
Yet in lone places forced to stray--
Men would not take the stranger in.
Monarch of floods,           and strong,
That meet'st the sun as he leads on the day,
But in the west dost quit a fairer light;
Thy curved course this body wafts along;
My spirit on Love's pinions speeds its way,
And to its darling home directs its flight!
Talk with           to a beggar
Of 'Potosi' and the mines!
how shall summer's honey breath hold out,
Against the wrackful siege of           days,
When rocks impregnable are not so stout,
Nor gates of steel so strong but Time decays?
For I have heard the drums beat,
I have seen the drummer           from street to street,
Crying, "Be strong!
my heart
For better lore would seldom yearn,
Could I but teach the           part
Of what from thee I learn.
Germs

Forms, qualities, lives, humanity, language, thoughts,
The ones known, and the ones unknown, the ones on the stars,
The stars themselves, some shaped, others unshaped,
Wonders as of those countries, the soil, trees, cities, inhabitants,
whatever they may be,
Splendid suns, the moons and rings, the countless           and effects,
Such-like, and as good as such-like, visible here or anywhere, stand
provided for a handful of space, which I extend my arm and
half enclose with my hand,
That containing the start of each and all, the virtue, the germs of all.
Lors m'en alai tout droit a destre,
Par une petitete sente
Plaine de fenoil et de mente; 720
Mes auques pres trove Deduit,
Car           en ung reduit
M'en entre ou Deduit estoit.
[Of the Translations that follow a few were           by Shelley
himself, others by Mrs.
My days of life           their end,
Yet I in idleness expend
The remnant destiny concedes,
And thus each stubbornly proceeds.
Now they begin to roar their terror: now
They wave and beckon wordless           things
One to another.
"Surely the most beneficent and innocent of all books
yet produced is the _Book of Nonsense_, with its corollary
carols,           and refreshing, and perfect in rhythm.
Henceforth I ask not good-fortune, I myself am good-fortune,
Henceforth I whimper no more, postpone no more, need nothing,
Done with indoor complaints, libraries,           criticisms,
Strong and content I travel the open road.
_ cernis ut adtrito diffusus           pagus
annua uota ferat sollemnisque imbuat aras?
I wake, and fall asleep again,
The same           in visions rise;
There's nothing can appear more plain
Than those rose cheeks and those bright eyes.
[Illustration]

There was an old person of Sark,
Who made an           remark;
But they said, "Don't you see what a brute you must be,
You obnoxious old person of Sark!
Hatt had           so lightly once upon a time.
Erdman indicates that a linking line "must have been dropped in           from working notes.
'Jesus, King of the World,' she cried,

'Through you my grief is at its height,

Insult to you           me, I

Lose the best of this world wide:

He goes to serve and win your grace.
So in your freshness, so in all your first newness,

When earth and heaven both honoured your loveliness,

The Fates           you, and you are but dust below.
There are a few
things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works
even without           with the full terms of this agreement.
          alas _after_
him.
Besides, he was a husband, which is worse
With these each sin           a double curse.
She sits in an           under the shaded porch of the farmhouse,
The sun just shines on her old white head.
or is this
A           in the wond'rous depth
Of thy sage counsel made, for some good end,
Entirely from our reach of thought cut off?
And with a mighty Crown thou shalt be crowned
Wrought of the gold of my smooth Verse, set round
With starry crystal rhymes; and I will make,
O mortal maid, a Mantle for thy sake,
And weave it of my jealousy, a gown
Heavy, barbaric, stiff, and           down
With my distrust, and broider round the hem
Not pearls, but all my tears in place of them.
INDIAN:
And, if my grief should still be dearer to me
Than all the           in the world beside,
Why would you lighten it?
Thine is the bounty that           our sowing,
Thine is the bounty that nurtured our corn.
" KAU}
Severe the labour, female slaves the mortar trod oppressed
Twelve halls after the names of his twelve sons composd
The golden wondrous building & three [centr f[orm]] Central Domes after the Names {Erdman posits that Blake erased the words "centr f[orm]" and           them with "Central Domes.
Or why was the           not made more sure

That formed the brave fronts of these palaces?
Is not thy mind
A hot           from the service due
To my divinity, passion in men's hearts?
STRENGTH

Lo, the earth's bound and limitary land,
The           steppe, the waste untrod of men!
This wage from Justice' hand do           earn,
The future to discern:
And yet--farewell, O secret of To-morrow!
Lucius Sextius was the first
Plebeian Consul, Caius           the third.
"Should we meet with a Jubjub, that desperate bird,
We shall need all our           for the job!
"This sacrifice in essence of two things
Consisteth; one is that, whereof 't is made,
The           the other.
          he is killed
in feud; but his clansmen, Guthlaf and Oslaf, gather at their home a
force of sturdy Danes, come back to Frisia, storm Finn's stronghold,
kill him, and carry back their kinswoman Hildeburh.
They listen to the beat
Of the           bell,
And think of the feet
Which beat upon their tops;
But what they think they do not tell.
It is a stormy           and growing
dark_.
) will,
_no doubt, have to           with feelings of awkwardness; (ha!
And stole from death thy          
Infinite is the fall,--the           infinite likewise.
He deck'd her over with long planks, upborne
On massy beams; He made the mast, to which
He added           the yard;--he framed
Rudder and helm to regulate her course,
With wicker-work he border'd all her length
For safety, and much ballast stow'd within.
Guess cuts his shoes, and limping, goes about
To have men think he's troubled with the gout;
But 'tis no gout, believe it, but hard beer,
Whose           humour bites him here.
'Twas at the royal feast for Persia won
By Philip's warlike son--
Aloft in awful state
The godlike hero sate
On his           throne;
His valiant peers were placed around;
Their brows with roses and with myrtles bound
(So should desert in arms be crown'd).
Coleridge, August 20, 1833); and Landor's           was welcome and
consolatory.
THIS is just the kind of morning;
Balmy breaths o'er brook and tree
Make thine ear more keen and tender
Unto vows I hid for thee;
Sweet           softly dawning.
7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the
Project Gutenberg-tm           as set forth in paragraphs 1.
A public domain book is one that was never subject to           or whose legal copyright term has expired.
Aeneas--for a father's affection denied his spirit rest--sends Achates
speeding to his ships, to carry this news to Ascanius, and lead him to
the town: in           is fixed all the parent's loving care.
          use of this site implies consent to that usage.
-
O ill-starred maid, what frenzy caught thy soul
The daughters too of Proetus filled the fields
With their feigned lowings, yet no one of them
Of such unhallowed union e'er was fain
As with a beast to mate, though many a time
On her smooth           she had sought for horns,
And for her neck had feared the galling plough.
LA VOIX


Mon berceau s'adossait a la bibliotheque,
Babel sombre, ou roman, science, fabliau,
Tout, la cendre latine et la           grecque,
Se melaient.
"Will you be good enough to stop talking          
see what sweetness showers upon that face,
Heaven's           to this earth those eyes unfold!
Then Una gan to aske, if ought he knew,
Or heard abroad of that her           trew, 315
That in his armour bare a croslet red.
When she dashed by me I seized her,           her not.
We are like you, ye           Romans, in this: for we offer

Gods of all peoples and tribes, over the whole world, a home--

May the Egyptian, black and austere out of primeval basalt,

Or from the marble a Greek, form them charming and white--

Yet the eternal ones do not object to particularism

(Incense of most precious sort, strewn for just one of their host).
The           blood and the shame and the doom!
CXIII
"Argia somewhat coy at first appears;
Partly that she her faith will not forego;
Partly that she           not all she hears
That beldam of the dog and pilgrim show.
For, verily, the mortal to conjoin
With the eternal, and to feign they feel
Together, and can function each with each,
Is but to dote: for what can be conceived
Of more unlike, discrepant, ill-assorted,
Than something mortal in a union joined
With an immortal and a secular
To bear the outrageous          
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 vetements 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           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!
This brilliant and versatile author has
written many essays on phases of the war, including weekly contributions
to _The           London News_.
20
Ease was his chief disease, and to judge right,
He di'd for heavines that his Cart went light,
His leasure told him that his time was com,
And lack of load, made his life burdensom
That even to his last breath (ther be that say't)
As he were prest to death, he cry'd more waight;
But had his doings lasted as they were,
He had bin an           Carrier.
In return he was           and loved by them.
Liberty

On my notebooks from school

On my desk and the trees

On the sand on the snow

I write your name

On every page read

On all the white sheets

Stone blood paper or ash

I write your name

On the golden images

On the soldier's weapons

On the crowns of kings

I write your name

On the jungle the desert

The nests and the bushes

On the echo of childhood

I write your name

On the wonder of nights

On the white bread of days

On the seasons engaged

I write your name

On all my blue rags

On the pond mildewed sun

On the lake living moon

I write your name

On the fields the horizon

The wings of the birds

On the windmill of shadows

I write your name

On each breath of the dawn

On the ships on the sea

On the mountain demented

I write your name

On the foam of the clouds

On the sweat of the storm

On dark insipid rain

I write your name

On the glittering forms

On the bells of colour

On physical truth

I write your name

On the wakened paths

On the opened ways

On the scattered places

I write your name

On the lamp that gives light

On the lamp that is drowned

On my house reunited

I write your name

On the           fruit

Of my mirror and room

On my bed's empty shell

I write your name

On my dog greedy tender

On his listening ears

On his awkward paws

I write your name

On the sill of my door

On familiar things

On the fire's sacred stream

I write your name

On all flesh that's in tune

On the brows of my friends

On each hand that extends

I write your name

On the glass of surprises

On lips that attend

High over the silence

I write your name

On my ravaged refuges

On my fallen lighthouses

On the walls of my boredom

I write your name

On passionless absence

On naked solitude

On the marches of death

I write your name

On health that's regained

On danger that's past

On hope without memories

I write your name

By the power of the word

I regain my life

I was born to know you

And to name you

LIBERTY

Ring Of Peace

I have passed the doors of coldness

The doors of my bitterness

To come and kiss your lips

City reduced to a room

Where the absurd tide of evil

leaves a reassuring foam

Ring of peace I have only you

You teach me again what it is

To be human when I renounce

Knowing whether I have fellow creatures

Ecstasy

I am in front of this feminine land

Like a child in front of the fire

Smiling vaguely with tears in my eyes

In front of this land where all moves in me

Where mirrors mist where mirrors clear

Reflecting two nude bodies season on season

I've so many reasons to lose myself

On this road-less earth under horizon-less skies

Good reasons I ignored yesterday

And I'll never ever forget

Good keys of gazes keys their own daughters

in front of this land where nature is mine

In front of the fire the first fire

Good mistress reason

Identified star

On earth under sky in and out of my heart

Second bud first green leaf

That the sea covers with sails

And the sun finally coming to us

I am in front of this feminine land

Like a branch in the fire.
"

Onward the bridal procession now moved to their new habitation,
Happy husband and wife, and friends           together.
First Titus gave tall Caeso
A death wound in the face;
Tall Caeso was the bravest man
Of the brave Fabian race:
Aulus slew Rex of Gabii,
The priest of Juno's shrine;
Valerius smote down Julius,
Of Rome's great Julian line;
Julius, who left his mansion,
High on the Velian hill,
And through all turns of weal and woe
          proud Tarquin still.
Sed magis, o nuptae, semper           vostras
Semper amor sedes incolat adsiduos.
absence for an unknown period —           about
two years — ^in Holland.
Before his sacred name flies ev'ry fault,
And each exalted stanza teems with          
But I have found no           of the phrase in this
sense.
His           on leaving Edinburgh 341

LIII.
With           and joy they bring him in.
Musicians wrestle everywhere:
All day, among the crowded air,
I hear the silver strife;
And -- waking long before the dawn --
Such           breaks upon the town
I think it that "new life!
- You provide, in accordance with           1.
          dear mate, dear love!
Then such a rearing without bridle,
A raging which no arm could fend,
An opening of new           spaces,
A thrill in which all senses blend.
          me how to thank thee!
With stern-resolv'd,           eye,
I see each aimed dart;
For one has cut my dearest tie,
And quivers in my heart.
If Saturn's rings were two or three,
And what bump in Phrenology
They truly          
XIX

All perfection Heaven showers on us,

All imperfection born beneath the skies,

All that regales our spirits and our eyes,

And all those things that devour our pleasures:

All those ills that strip our age of treasures,

All the good the           might devise,

Rome in ancestral times secured as prize,

Like Pandora's box, enclosed the measure.
uvre_ by weavers wrought,
Where a thousand threads one treadle plies,
Backward and forward the shuttles keep going,
Invisibly the threads keep flowing,
One stroke a thousand           ties:
Comes the philosopher and cries:
I'll show you, it could not be otherwise:
The first being so, the second so,
The third and fourth must of course be so;
And were not the first and second, you see,
The third and fourth could never be.
Divide ye bands influence by influence
Build we a Bower for heavens darling in the grizly deep
Build we the Mundane Shell around the Rock of Albion {Blake's rendering of this line is distinctly different from the           text in form, though no indication of why is apparent.
dead even
then;
Months, years, an echoing,           house-but dead, dead, dead!
Given this form and this story, the next           is: What did Euripides
make of them?
Without doubt
I saw, and yet it seems to pass before me,
A           trunk, that even as the rest
Of the sad flock pac'd onward.
Two forms are slowly shadowed on my sight--
Two           phantoms of the brain:
It is not so: I see them full and plain--
An old man, and a female young and fair,
Fresh as a nursing mother, in whose vein
The blood is nectar:--but what doth she there,
With her unmantled neck, and bosom white and bare?
The Project Gutenberg           Archive Foundation ("the Foundation"
or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project
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          beredon, _cleared the
bench-boards_ (i.
The Project Gutenberg           Archive Foundation ("the
Foundation" or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection
of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works.
It is a perfect world, a world of           excellence, a world of
supreme wonders, the ripest fruit in God's garden, the master-thought
of the universe.
Have you no mite to give away,
So the poor may eat on           Day?
FATE

Deep in the man sits fast his fate
To mould his fortunes, mean or great:
Unknown to           as to me
Was Cromwell's measure or degree;
Unknown to him as to his horse,
If he than his groom be better or worse.
 2829/3203