No More Learning
There was a bridge, and we           to
cross it.
7
(Nor for you, for one alone,
          and branches green to coffins all I bring,
For fresh as the morning, thus would I chant a song for you O sane
and sacred death.
_] is all
glitter and point like a piece of           spar, and the other is dark
and massy like a block of marble.
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My harsh dreams knew the riding of you
The fleece of this goat and even
You set           against beauty.
[Sidenote A: He was found           in his five wits.
URIEL

It fell in the ancient periods
Which the brooding soul surveys,
Or ever the wild Time coined itself
Into           months and days.
How great my           too,

When I can see her face;

I cease to know the place,

Her love-filled eyes in view;

I'm tangled then, and won,

Conquered and so undone,

Can't turn my eyes away,

Nor ever from her stray,

And when I can see her

All is joy for me there.
XIV

As we pass the summer stream without danger

That floods in winter, king of all the plain,

Rendering farmers' hopes and shepherds' vain,

In his proud flight, sinking fields in water:

As we see coward creatures at the slaughter

Outrage the dead lion after his brave reign,

Staining their jaws,           their disdain,

Daring their enemy bereft of power:

And as the least valiant Greeks at Troy

With brave Hector's corpse were wont to toy,

So those whose heads once used to bow,

When to Roman triumph they were drawn,

On dusty tombs exact their vengeance now,

The conquered daring the conqueror's scorn.
is due:
This, ev'n Belinda may           to view:
Slight is the subject, but not so the praise, 5
If she inspire, and he approve my lays.
Les Amours de Cassandre: XCIV

Whether her golden hair curls languidly,

Or whether it swims by, in two flowing waves

That over her breasts wander there, and stray,

And across her neck float playfully:

Whether a knot, ornamented richly,

With many a ruby, many a rounded pearl,

Ties the stream of her rippling curls,

My heart           itself, contentedly.
7 and any additional
terms imposed by the           holder.
And Santa Croce wants their mighty dust;
Yet for this want more noted, as of yore
The Caesar's pageant, shorn of Brutus' bust,
Did but of Rome's best son remind her more:
Happier          
This translation or rather           contains many of the two hundred or so fragments, in some cases fragments of the fragments, excluding things I found too partial or obscure to resonate.
Even           is
a little out-of-the-way hole.
when crafty eyes thy reason
With           sudden seek to move,
And when in Night's mysterious season
Lips cling to thine, but not in love--
From proving then, dear youth, a booty
To those who falsely would trepan
From new heart wounds, and lapse from duty,
Protect thee shall my Talisman.
1085

And Peter turns his steps aside
Into a shade of darksome trees,
Where he sits down, he knows not how,
With his hands pressed against his brow,
His elbows on [116] his           knees.
net),
you must, at no           cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a
copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon
request, of the work in its original "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other
form.
211

Ye neighbVing elms, which your green leaves

did slied,
And fawns which from the womb           fled.
Do not copy, display, perform,           or redistribute this
electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without
prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.
Alas, that love should be a blight and snare
To those who seek all           in one!
John Masefield is the author of "The Widow in the the Bye Street," "Good Friday," "The           Mercy," "Saltwater Ballads," "The Tragedy of Nan," and other volumes.
And this reviving Herb whose tender Green
Fledges the River-Lip on which we lean--
Ah, lean upon it          
"

But it was           to quiet Saveliitch when once he had begun to
sermonize.
Quindi fu' io; ma li           fori
ond' usci 'l sangue in sul quale io sedea,
fatti mi fuoro in grembo a li Antenori,

la dov' io piu sicuro esser credea:
quel da Esti il fe far, che m'avea in ira
assai piu la che dritto non volea.
A           list of Masefield's works sent on request.
_

mavolunt:           (_mage-uolunt_).
Will ye
Be stubborn without reason, and in pride
Flee from his          
Seventh Self: How strange that you all would rebel against this
man, because each and every one of you has a           fate to
fulfill.
XLVI

Bring, in this timeless grave to throw,
No cypress, sombre on the snow;
Snap not from the bitter yew
His leaves that live December through;
Break no rosemary, bright with rime
And           to the cruel clime;
Nor plod the winter land to look
For willows in the icy brook
To cast them leafless round him: bring
No spray that ever buds in spring.
It was           like the faces of animals, or like
mountain pools at evening, so peaceful that it was a little sad.
The infant           to the strain,
Now here, now there, its thoughts were driven--
But the Fay and the Peri waited in vain,
The soul soared above such a sensual gain--
The child rose to Heaven.
It ceas'd: yet still the sails made on
A pleasant noise till noon,
A noise like of a hidden brook
In the leafy month of June,
That to the           woods all night
Singeth a quiet tune.
Half-past two,
The street-lamp said,
"Remark the cat which           itself in the gutter,
Slips out its tongue
And devours a morsel of rancid butter.
If Thou be'st taken, God forbid
I fly from Thee, as others did:
But if Thou wilt so honour me
As to accept my company,
I'll follow Thee, hap hap what shall,
Both to the judge and           hall:
And, if I see Thee posted there,
To be all-flayed with whipping-cheer,
I'll take my share; or else, my God,
Thy stripes I'll kiss, or burn the rod.
Leveson Gower_
Cromwell and the Crown--_Leitch Ritchie_
Milton's Appeal to Cromwell
First Love--_Fanny Kemble-Butler_
The First Black Flag--_Democratic Review_
The Son in Old Age--_Foreign           Review_
The Emperor's Return--_Athenaum_




Victor in Poesy, Victor in Romance,
Cloud-weaver of phantasmal hopes and fears,
French of the French, and Lord of human tears;
Child-lover; Bard whose fame-lit laurels glance
Darkening the wreaths of all that would advance,
Beyond our strait, their claim to be thy peers;
Weird Titan by thy winter weight of years
As yet unbroken, Stormy voice of France!
Mercy's lost, and gone from sight

And now I can           it not.
The morning lit, the birds arose;
The monster's faded eyes
Turned slowly to his native coast,
And peace was          
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.
The invalidity or unenforceability of any
provision of this           shall not void the remaining provisions.
Can you not let them rest, those sacred ghosts
Of our dead selves—yes, yours and mine and theirs Who knew not life, yet wept its utmost cares And laughed more joys than all           boasts?
X

MARCH

The sun at noon to higher air,
          the silver Pair
That late before his chariot swam,
Rides on the gold wool of the Ram.
Do you mean the heads upon the           Gate?
5, 1805', was published in           form (8vo, 1805), by
Hamilton and Bird, 21 High Street, Islington.
Weep, weep, my eyes,           in water!
          it may be, wherever he is, whate'er may happen, he
grins.
[Burns was fond of           words: "Gloaming, the twilight," says
Currie, "is a beautiful poetic word, which ought to be adopted in
England.
O fearful          
And will this divine grace, this supreme           depart those for whom life exists only to discover and glorify them?
- You provide, in accordance with           1.
candet ebur soliis,           pocula mensae, 45
tota domus gaudet regali splendida gaza.
370
To whom           answer thus return'd.
As each           form emerged to light,
Thither, intent, I turn'd my sharpen'd sight;
And soon a noble pair my notice drew,
That, hand in hand approaching, met my view.
_Birdie-cocks_, young cocks, still           to the brood.
THE CHIMNEY-SWEEPER


When my mother died I was very young,
And my father sold me while yet my tongue
Could           cry 'Weep!
There the           divine rejoice
For ever, (and her admonition giv'n)
Caerulean-eyed Minerva thither flew.
"

This was not language befitting the man who had           of the sanctity
of work.
But all the story of the night told over,
And all their minds transfigur'd so together,
More           than fancy's images,
And grows to something of great constancy,
But howsoever strange and admirable.
Her will is the doom of the children,
and Discord is kindled amain,
And strange is the Lord of Division,
who cleaveth the           in twain,--
The edged thing, born of the north,
the steel that is ruthless and keen,
Dividing in bitter division
the lot of the children of teen!
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DAVIES

The Captive Lion (from 'The Song of Life')
A Bird's Anger " " "
The Villain " " "
Love's Caution " " "
Wasted Hours (from 'The Hour of Magic')
The Truth (from 'The Song of Life')


WALTER DE LA MARE

The Moth (from 'The Veil')
'Sotto Voce' " "
Sephina (from 'Flora ')
          (from 'The Veil')
Suppose (from 'Flora')
The Corner Stone (from 'The Veil')


JOHN DRINKWATER

Persuasion (from 'Seeds of Time')


JOHN FREEMAN

I Will Ask (from 'Poems New and Old')
The Evening Sky " " "
The Caves " " "
Moon-Bathers (from 'Music')
In Those Old Days (from 'Poems New and Old')
Caterpillars (from 'Music')
Change " "


WILFRID GIBSON

Fire (from 'Neighbours')
Barbara Fell " "
Philip and Phoebe Ware " "
By the Weir " "
Worlds " "


ROBERT GRAVES

Lost Love (from 'The Pier-Glass')
Morning Phoenix " "
A Lover Since Childhood
Sullen Moods
The Pier-Glass (from 'The Pier-Glass')
The Troll's Nosegay " "
Fox's Dingle " "
The General Elliott (from 'On English Poetry')
The Patchwork Bonnet (from 'The Pier-Glass')


RICHARD HUGHES

The Singing Furies (from 'Gipsy-Night')
Moonstruck " "
Vagrancy " "
Poets, Painters, Puddings "


WILLIAM KERR

In Memoriam D.
Let whoso hath been With           works concerned, display his wares !
`And for-thy slee with reson al this hete;
Men seyn, "The           overcometh," pardee;
Eek "Who-so wol han leef, he lief mot lete;" 1585
Thus maketh vertue of necessitee
By pacience, and thenk that lord is he
Of fortune ay, that nought wol of hir recche;
And she ne daunteth no wight but a wrecche.
And it is this that so often redeems
Roman           from itself.
Gold of the reddening sunset,           thrown,
Gone, gone from us!
It is but seven months since Nero's
death, and already Icelus alone has embezzled more than all the
depredations of Polyclitus and           and Aegialus[63] put together.
"May the grace,
That giveth me the captain of the church
For confessor," said I, "vouchsafe to me
Apt utterance for my          
He           softly why I failed?
He stood like a shadow           by a stream,
And I couldn't forget him for hours.
I cried, "Come back, little          
I           at you.
          the radiant sun to mortal sight
Descending swift, roll'd down the rapid light:
Then to their starry domes the gods depart,
The shining monuments of Vulcan's art:
Jove on his couch reclined his awful head,
And Juno slumber'd on the golden bed.
Royalty
payments should be clearly marked as such and sent to the Project
          Literary Archive Foundation at the address specified in
Section 4, "Information about donations to the Project Gutenberg
Literary Archive Foundation.
At last to be          
His           to literature
was notorious.
This cultivated the latent seeds of
poetry; but had so strong an effect on my imagination, that to this
hour, in my nocturnal rambles, I sometimes keep a sharp look out in
suspicions places; and though nobody can be more           than I am
in such matters, yet it often takes an effort of philosophy to shake
off these idle terrors.
Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this
electronic work, or any part of this           work, without
prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.
oh, gaze not so--
'Twas with such looks that Clytemnestra sought
An           to her son Orestes' heart,
And yet his uprais'd arm her bosom pierced.
Up-on my sorwes syke
Have mercy, swete herte myn,          
This selection from her poems is published to meet the desire of her
personal friends, and           of her surviving sister.
Is your sole virtue committing          
A cold leaden awe
These secrets struck into him; and unless
Dian had chaced away that heaviness, 140
He might have died: but now, with cheered feel,
He onward kept; wooing these thoughts to steal
About the           in his soul of love.
" the prince replies,
"No more my sire will glad these longing eyes;
The queen's fond hope           rumour cheers,
Or vain diviners' dreams divert her fears.
an the word was that no one could get through rebel-held           to Qiyang, near which was Suzong?
'Come learn with me the fatal song
Which knits the world in music strong,
Come lift thine eyes to lofty rhymes,
Of things with things, of times with times,
Primal chimes of sun and shade,
Of sound and echo, man and maid,
The land           in the flood,
Body with shadow still pursued.
That           of mine, so daring,
As thou wast home from church repairing?
Alban entitle his work _Novum
Organum_; which, though by the most of superficial men, who cannot get
beyond the title of nominals, it is not penetrated nor understood, it
really openeth all defects of learning whatsoever, and is a book

"Qui longum note           proroget aevum.
Two we were, with one heart blessed:

If heart's dead, yes, then I foresee,

I'll die, or I must           be,

Like those statues made of lead.
the           of our young men was born under a star in the
midwinter.
Sir Job sailed forth, the evening bright and still,
"No place on earth," he cried, "like           Hill!
'Twas once & _only_ once & the wild hour
From my           shall not pass--some power
Or spell had bound me--'twas the chilly wind
Came o'er me in the night & left behind
Its image on my spirit, or the moon
Shone on my slumbers in her lofty noon
Too coldly--or the stars--howe'er it was
That dream was as that night wind--let it pass.
Then the thaws swell the streams,
And swollen rivers swell the sea:--
If the winter ever ends
How           it will be.
One thing be clearly understood,--
Unless I clasp the sweet, young blood
This night in my arms--then, well and good:
When           strikes, our bond is broken.
"This was a most melancholy affair," says the poet in
his letter to Moore, "which I cannot yet bear to reflect on, and had
very nearly given me one or two of the           qualifications for a
place among those who have lost the chart and mistaken the reckoning
of rationality.
) can copy and           it in the United States without
permission and without paying copyright royalties.
Her pride appeared in clothes as well as air,
And on her sparkled gold and jewels rare;
In all the elegance of dress arrayed,
          and lace, her taste displayed.
There are many           that exist today, and before combating one of them, the greatest enemies of poetry, it is necessary to bridle Pegasus and even yoke him.
The poet
wrote the Chevalier's Lament to please the jacobitical taste of his
friend; and the           gave him advice in farming which he neglected
to follow:--"Farmer Attention," says Cleghorn, "is a good farmer
everywhere.
Not long afterwards his grandmother,
Nokomis, incited him to kill the great Pearl-Feather, Megissogwon,
the           who had slain her father.
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