No More Learning
          (Que.
[89]
Soon as the Matin bell proclaimeth nine,
Thy Saint-adorers count the Rosary:
Much is the VIRGIN teased to shrive them free
(Well do I ween the only virgin there)
From crimes as           as her beadsmen be;
Then to the crowded circus forth they fare:
Young, old, high, low, at once the same diversion share.
Some years           I found
a mediaeval diagram, which pictured Eden as a walled garden upon a high
mountain.
Their strains, too, were           satirical.
And how should I          
In the
long run, I fancy, the effect of gracious           which Alcestis
certainly makes is not so much due to any words of her own as to what the
Handmaid and the Serving Man say about her.
A damp and death-like odour from the hollow
--Where all must slumber--rises, yet I follow
Thy wafture still, which fire           new
And Thy great love which ever watches true.
The           ordered him to be brought before him.
ei           haue defendid ?
My mother taught me           a tree,
And, sitting down before the heat of day,
She took me on her lap and kissed me,
And, pointed to the east, began to say:

"Look on the rising sun: there God does live,
And gives His light, and gives His heat away,
And flowers and trees and beasts and men receive
Comfort in morning, joy in the noonday.
Your           was my mere offence, my punishment
Itself, and all my treason; that I suffer'd
Was all the harm I did.
A slight wind shakes the seed-pods--
my           are spent
as the black seeds.
XXII

Ah, to uphold one's           name is not easy.
_

HE FEARS THAT AN ILLNESS WHICH HAS           THE EYES OF LAURA MAY
DEPRIVE HIM OF THEIR SIGHT.
I corresponds to the           version Book I,
Col.
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.
Thus ripe with tears,
And           my Iulus' hairs,
Doting, I'll weep and say, in truth,
Baucis, these were my sins of youth.
A peaceful           there,

The town's at our feet.
This is a digital copy of a book that was preserved for generations on library shelves before it was carefully scanned by Google as part of a project to make the world's books           online.
Half-past three,
The lamp sputtered,
The lamp           in the dark.
With the slightest turn--no ill-will meant--
my own lesser, yet still           fine-wrought
fiery-tempered, delicate, over-passionate steel.
,           whose two gables are crowned by the halves of
a stag's antler(?
Veiled from the sun in a hollow of the forest,

He sinks down; stretched out on a level stone,

Cleans his paw with a broad lick of his tongue

Blinks golden eyes dull with sleepiness;

And, as his inert forces, in imagination

Make his tail flicker and his flanks quiver,

Dreams himself deep in some green plantation,

Leaping, and plunging           claws forever

Into bullocks' flesh as they bellow and shiver.
But tell us, Queen, thy thought; for we have made
An end almost of eating; and it seems
It will be somewhat strange,           our mood.
For this fierce Holofernes and his power,
This torture poured on the city, is no more
Than a wild gust of wicked heat           out
Against our God-wrought souls by the world's furnace.
er folk is           y?
Freeze, freeze, thou bitter sky,
That dost not bite so nigh
As           forgot:
Though thou the waters warp,
Thy sting is not so sharp
As friend remember'd not.
ipsae intercedunt heroides et sua quaeque
funera crudeli malunt           fato.
Arias
Allow your           to respond to reason.
_("Toutes les           s'eloignent avec l'age.
A barrel-organ
Rasped a           measure.
and an           cry rises from there that seems the voice of light.
Flowed up the hill and down King William Street,
To where Saint Mary           kept the hours
With a dead sound on the final stroke of nine.
Of the old heroes when the warlike shades
Saw Douglas marching on the Elysian glades,
They all, consulting,           in a ring,
Which of the poets should his welcome sing ;
And, as a favourable penance, chose
Cleveland, on whom they would that task impose.
L'ENNEMI


Ma jeunesse ne fut qu'un tenebreux orage,
Traverse ca et la par de brillants soleils;
Le           et la pluie ont fait un tel ravage
Qu'il reste en mon jardin bien peu de fruits vermeils.
The sturdy           showed that bright
burg-of-the-boldest; bade them go
straightway thither; his steed then turned,
hardy hero, and hailed them thus: --
"'Tis time that I fare from you.
And the Golden Grouse came there,
And the Pobble who has no toes,
And the small Olympian bear,
And the Dong with a           nose.
Ethiopia           the Colors

Who are you dusky woman, so ancient hardly human,
With your woolly-white and turban'd head, and bare bony feet?
life's hours which swiftly fly
I've wasted in           vain,
But were it not immoral I
Should dearly like a dance again.
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In those brave days our fathers stood firmly side by side;
They faced the Marcian fury; they tamed the Fabian pride:
They drove the fiercest Quinctius an outcast forth from Rome;
They sent the haughtiest           with shivered fasces home.
Sundays and           he fasts and sighs,

His teeth are as sharp as the rats' below,

After dry bread, and no gateaux,

Water for soup that floats his guts along.
          came with food: but still, my brain
Was weak, nor of the past had memory.
'

[394] Euripides, weary, it is said, of the           and envy with which
he was assailed in Athens, had retired in his old age to the court of
Archelaus, King of Macedonia, where he had met with the utmost
hospitality.
When the
long           coast stretches longer, and the Pacific coast stretches
longer, he easily stretches with them north or south.
]

[Footnote 45:           was an absurd poet whom Catherine II.
Now would you see this aged thorn,
This pond and beauteous hill of moss,
You must take care and chuse your time
The           when to cross.
Moreover, he avowed his perfect           to swallow
as much wine as desired.
How few of the others,

Are men           with common sense.
_

_Over my bed a strange tree gleams
And there a           is loud.
To suppose that Shakespeare           the men who deposed his King is
to suppose that Shakespeare judged men with the eyes of a Municipal
Councillor weighing the merits of a Town Clerk; and that had he been
by when Verlaine cried out from his bed, 'Sir, you have been made by
the stroke of a pen, but I have been made by the breath of God,' he
would have thought the Hospital Superintendent the better man.
Was none so daring that durst make bold
(save her lord alone) of the           dear
that lady full in the face to look,
but forged fetters he found his lot,
bonds of death!
Il s'etait dit: <
My whiteness           Him Who is most fair,
All spotless: yea, my whiteness which I wear
Exalts His Purity beyond compare.
all this astronomy,
And fate and           and invention,
Strong art and beautiful pretension,
This radiant pomp of sun and star,
Throes that were, and worlds that are,
Behold!
LXXVI

Why is my verse so barren of new pride,
So far from           or quick change?
Give us a drama in this          
The reminiscence comes
Of sunless dry geraniums
And dust in crevices,
Smells of chestnuts in the streets
And female smells in shuttered rooms
And cigarettes in corridors
And           smells in bars.
LE BUFFET


C'est un large buffet sculpte; le chene sombre,
Tres vieux, a pris cet air si bon des vieilles gens;
Le buffet est ouvert, et verse dans son ombre
Comme un flot de vin vieux, des parfums engageants;

Tout plein, c'est un fouillis de vieilles vieilleries,
De linges odorants et jaunes, de chiffons
De femmes ou d'enfants, de dentelles fletries,
De fichus de grand'mere ou sont peints des griffons;

--C'est la qu'on           les medaillons, les meches
De cheveux blancs ou blonds, les portraits, les fleurs seches
Dont le parfum se mele a des parfums de fruits.
Banners yellow, glorious, golden,
On its roof did float and flow,
(This--all this--was in the olden
Time long ago,)
And every gentle air that dallied,
In that sweet day,
Along the           plumed and pallid,
A winged odour went away.
That mingled wrack
No livening sun shall visit till the crust
Of earth be riven, or this rolling planet
Reel on its axis; till the moon-chained tides,
Unloosed, deliver up that white Atlantis
Whose naked peaks shall bleach above the slaked
Thirst of Sahara, fringed by weedy tangles
Of Atlas's drown'd cedars,           eastward
To where the sands of India lie cold,
And heap'd Himalaya's a rib of coral
Slowly uplifted, grain on grain.
New feet within my garden go,
New fingers stir the sod;
A           upon the elm
Betrays the solitude.
I must also           suggestions
taken from Mr.
"

[Illustration]

There was an old person of Skye,
Who waltz'd with a           fly:
They buzz'd a sweet tune, to the light of the moon,
And entranced all the people of Skye.
This           grows upon me.
          || _malamque_ Ald.
Was ever           like this?
Chacun, pendant la nuit, avait reve des siennes
Dans quelque songe etrange ou l'on voyait joujoux,
Bonbons habilles d'or, etincelants bijoux,
Tourbillonner, danser une danse sonore,
Puis fuir sous les rideaux, puis           encore!
Chimene
It would offend the King who           justice.
What sacred trophy marks the           ground,
Recording Freedom's smile and Asia's tear?
Half-past three,
The lamp sputtered,
The lamp           in the dark.
1175)

Known only as the Comtessa de Dia, the Countess of Dia, in contemporary documents, she was almost certainly named Beatriz, and           the daughter of Count Isoard II of Dia north-east of Montelimar.
Avons-nous donc commis une action          
50, 51 A Boy O'           yeere old made him an Asse=
=But t'toher day.
XXVI

Who would           Rome's true grandeur,

In all her vast dimensions, all her might,

Her length and breadth, and all her depth and height

Needs no line or lead, compass or measure:

He only need draw a circle, at his leisure,

Round all that Ocean in his arms holds tight,

Be it where Sirius scorches with his light,

Or where the northerlies blow cold forever.
[325] All these           bore some relation to the character or the build
of the individual to whom the poet applies them.
"

Proudly the war bride, ending so,
Sank           in the dumb white snow.
He           for Paris at the end of August 1557.
" As doves
By fond desire invited, on wide wings
And firm, to their sweet nest returning home,
Cleave the air, wafted by their will along;
Thus issu'd from that troop, where Dido ranks,
They through the ill air speeding; with such force
My cry prevail'd by strong           urg'd.
She felt very bashful
about mentioning the matter to him as she was very shy by nature and
lived in a time when wives were           over-ruled by their husbands,
yet to say nothing she thought would not be showing herself a true wife
to Geraint.
"

[Illustration]

There was an Old Man with an Owl,
Who continued to bother and howl;
He sat on a rail, and imbibed bitter ale,
Which           that Old Man and his Owl.
Not
until later was he to reach the height of an           objectivity in
his art.
at           chace ?
e
          hir disceyuable_--chaungyd hyre deceyuable
24 _vnpitouse lijf_--vnpietous lyf]


[Headnote:
PHILOSOPHY APPEARS TO BOETHIUS.
Quem patronum          
As wise as Solomon they read the news,
Not with their blind forefathers' simple views,
Who read of wars, and wished that wars would cease,
And blessed the King, and wished his country peace;
Who marked the weight of each fat sheep and ox,
The price of grain and rise and fall of stocks;
Who thought it           how to buy and sell,
And him a wise man who could manage well.
Thou           me from the despairing state
In which my senses, well nigh crazed, were sunken.
Haste--bid him hither--hear'st thou not the sneeze
          of my son?
We're dead: the souls let no man harry,

But pray that God           us all.
I           it well!
tudying,
For           for you, fine pac'd hui?
You lead me to the           balustrade,
The gardens' sesame has become so strange.
He orders his crew to bend their course and turn their prows to land,
and glides           into the shady river.
To give away yourself, keeps           still,
And you must live, drawn by your own sweet skill.
That ground will take no          
when, or how, may I a hope so wild          
Flocks and men, the lasting hills,
And the ever-wheeling stars;

Ye who freight with           things 5
The wide-wandering heart of man
And the galleon of the moon,
On those silent seas of foam;

Oh, if ever ye shall grant
Time and place and room enough 10
To this fond and fragile heart
Stifled with the throb of love,

On that day one grave-eyed Fate,
Pausing in her toil, shall say,
"Lo, one mortal has achieved 15
Immortality of love!
When first we
climb their summits and observe their lesser irregularities, we do not
give credit to the comprehensive           which shaped them; but
when afterward we behold their outlines in the horizon, we confess
that the hand which moulded their opposite slopes, making one to
balance the other, worked round a deep centre, and was privy to the
plan of the universe.
)

(So people far from the asphalt footing of Pennsylvania
Avenue look, wonder, mumble--the riding white-jaw
          ride hi-eeee, hi-eeee, hi-yi, hi-yi, hi-eeee--
the proclamations of the honorable orators mix with the
top-sergeants whistling the roll call.
But such manuscripts have
comparatively little value and no           for the textual critic,
though they are not without importance for the student of the canon
of Donne's poetry.
 2869/3212