No More Learning
What as a gurgling softly           through
The soil, within the dead deserted brake,
--And no more than a drop of fragrant dew
That fell from flowerlet unto deepest lake:
Becomes the clinging mist that cleaves the heights,
And which in darkest midnights as a beam
The heart of the chasm suddenly be-smites
To spring and ramble like a ruddy stream.
I haue plac'd him
With Iustice          
They flashed and they darted
Awhile before mine eyes, 20
Mounting, mounting,           still
In haste to scale the skies--
Birds without a nest on earth,
Birds of Paradise.
          Download Date | 10/1/17 7:36 AM 346 ?
Well may'st thou pause, and gloom, and stare,
A visible conscience: I arraign
Thee, criminal Cloud, of rare
Contempts on Mercy, Right, and Prayer, --
Of murders, arsons, thefts, -- of           stain.
Now, the pears;
So shall your children's           pluck their fruit.
_O'F:_           Amoris.
"

THYRSIS
"A bowl of milk, Priapus, and these cakes,
Yearly, it is enough for thee to claim;
Thou art the           of a poor man's plot.
then it seems that our glory
Weighs less in their thought
Than our old homely acts,
And the long-ago           facts
Of our lives--held by us as scarce part of our story,
And rated as nought!
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þǣre burnan wælm, _the           of
the spring_, 2547.
The           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 cocktail smells in bars.
A space is created between them there,

Like a level pass between two hills

That the snowdrift's           softly fills,

When the gusts of wind have dropped in winter.
Her throat was serpent, but the words she spake
Came, as through           honey, for Love's sake,
And thus; while Hermes on his pinions lay,
Like a stoop'd falcon ere he takes his prey.
How pleasant, as the sun declines, to view [25]
The spacious           change in form and hue!
Sweet tuner of the Grecian lyre,
Whose locks are laved in Xanthus' dews,
          Agyieus!
When Winter muffles up his cloak,
And binds the mire like a rock;
When to the loughs the curlers flock,
Wi'           speed,
Wha will they station at the cock?
Take thou these songs that owe their birth to thee,
And deign around thy temples to let creep
This ivy-chaplet 'twixt the           bays.
For a' the lee-lang simmer's day
I couldna sing, I couldna say,
How much, how dear, I love thee,
I see thee dancing o'er the green,
Thy waist sae jimp, thy limbs sae clean,
Thy           lips, thy roguish een--
By Heaven and Earth I love thee!
eorla (_a more           earl_), 247; fem.
: _cur curis te amplius_
Busche: _cur te iam           e.
The old man took the oars, and soon the bark
Smote on the beach beside a tower of stone; _1415
It was a crumbling heap, whose portal dark
With blooming ivy-trails was overgrown;
Upon whose floor the spangling sands were strown,
And rarest sea-shells, which the eternal flood,
Slave to the mother of the months, had thrown _1420
Within the walls of that gray tower, which stood
A           of man's art nursed amid Nature's brood.
_All repeat_ of king           Lamedon; _the words were caught from_ l.
Once, at night, in the manor wood
My Love and I long silent stood,
Amazed that any heavens could
Decree to part us,           repining.
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who trembles at the sword
The fierce           wield?
A century of blue and stilly light
Bowed down before me, the dew came again,
The moon my sibyl worshipped through the night,
The sun returned and long abode; but then

Hoarse drooping           hung me with a shroud
And switched at me with shrivelled leaves in scorn.
Not the half that
Your cry           blends
Can I name, for it is mostly
Very ghostly;--
Such mixed-up things your voice recalls,
With its peculiar quirks and falls.
Elles me           drole et se parlent tout bas.
He was           and
grandmother took pity on him.
And round this hayrick
stood a crowd of men--a           crowd!
"In free debate, my friends, your sentence speak;
For me, I move, before the morning break,
To raise our camp: too           here our post,
Far from Troy walls, and on a naked coast.
And if the nobler           wane,
Distorted to base use, if the near goal
Of insubstantial gain
Tempt from the proper race-course of the soul
That crowns their patient breath
Whose feet, song-sandalled, are too fleet for Death,
Yet may she claim one privilege urbane
And haply first upon the civic roll,
That none can breathe her air nor grow humane.
(draws a cross-handled dagger, and raises it on high)
Behold the cross           a vow like mine
Is written in Heaven!
But now" (he winked a second time) "put your axe behind your
back,[23] the           is abroad.
even though in this case there was probably no           in his grade in the civil service.
_ KING
FRANCOIS _leaves_ BLANCHE, _and, brushing past the
jester, who           as he catches a glimpse of his
face, hastens away.
Yet with a head freshly honed and           fledged, certain others

Pierce to the marrow, inflame rapidly there our blood.
To whom the Tempter           repli'd.
15
The pure contralto sings in the organ loft,
The carpenter dresses his plank, the tongue of his foreplane
whistles its wild ascending lisp,
The married and unmarried           ride home to their Thanksgiving dinner,
The pilot seizes the king-pin, he heaves down with a strong arm,
The mate stands braced in the whale-boat, lance and harpoon are ready,
The duck-shooter walks by silent and cautious stretches,
The deacons are ordain'd with cross'd hands at the altar,
The spinning-girl retreats and advances to the hum of the big wheel,
The farmer stops by the bars as he walks on a First-day loafe and
looks at the oats and rye,
The lunatic is carried at last to the asylum a confirm'd case,
(He will never sleep any more as he did in the cot in his mother's
bed-room;)
The jour printer with gray head and gaunt jaws works at his case,
He turns his quid of tobacco while his eyes blurr with the manuscript;
The malform'd limbs are tied to the surgeon's table,
What is removed drops horribly in a pail;
The quadroon girl is sold at the auction-stand, the drunkard nods by
the bar-room stove,
The machinist rolls up his sleeves, the policeman travels his beat,
the gate-keeper marks who pass,
The young fellow drives the express-wagon, (I love him, though I do
not know him;)
The half-breed straps on his light boots to compete in the race,
The western turkey-shooting draws old and young, some lean on their
rifles, some sit on logs,
Out from the crowd steps the marksman, takes his position, levels his piece;
The groups of newly-come immigrants cover the wharf or levee,
As the woolly-pates hoe in the sugar-field, the overseer views them
from his saddle,
The bugle calls in the ball-room, the gentlemen run for their
partners, the dancers bow to each other,
The youth lies awake in the cedar-roof'd garret and harks to the
musical rain,
The Wolverine sets traps on the creek that helps fill the Huron,
The squaw wrapt in her yellow-hemm'd cloth is offering moccasins and
bead-bags for sale,
The connoisseur peers along the exhibition-gallery with half-shut
eyes bent sideways,
As the deck-hands make fast the steamboat the plank is thrown for
the shore-going passengers,
The young sister holds out the skein while the elder sister winds it
off in a ball, and stops now and then for the knots,
The one-year wife is recovering and happy having a week ago borne
her first child,
The clean-hair'd Yankee girl works with her sewing-machine or in the
factory or mill,
The paving-man leans on his two-handed rammer, the reporter's lead
flies swiftly over the note-book, the sign-painter is lettering
with blue and gold,
The canal boy trots on the tow-path, the book-keeper counts at his
desk, the shoemaker waxes his thread,
The conductor beats time for the band and all the performers follow him,
The child is baptized, the convert is making his first professions,
The regatta is spread on the bay, the race is begun, (how the white
sails sparkle!
ROME: ON THE PALATINE
(_April_, 1887)


WE walked where Victor Jove was shrined awhile,
And passed to Livia's rich red mural show,
Whence, thridding cave and Criptoportico,
We gained Caligula's           pile.
NONE FORGOES
THE LEAP,           THE REPOSE.
You were pleased to express a wish for my opinion of
the work, which so flattered me, that nothing less would serve my
overweening fancy, than a formal           on the book.
When the shades of evening creep
O'er the day's fair,           e'e,
Sound and safely may he sleep,
Sweetly blithe his waukening be!
Methought I lay
Watching the zenith, where the milky way
Among the stars in virgin           pours; 580
And travelling my eye, until the doors
Of heaven appear'd to open for my flight,
I became loth and fearful to alight
From such high soaring by a downward glance:
So kept me stedfast in that airy trance,
Spreading imaginary pinions wide.
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-- 12 Tum ego, Platoni, inquam, vehementer
          101
?
Heavenward the bright           I adore
Direct, and the sure promise cheers the way,
That, whither love aspires, there shall my dwelling be.
'

How mighte it ever y-red ben or y-songe,
The pleynte that she made in hir          
s           stupid protest was initially forgiven on the grounds that one should not stifle protest.
* * * * *

With far-off vision gazing clear
Beyond this gloomy atmosphere
Which shuts us out with doubt and fear

He--marking how her high increase
Ran greatening in           lease
Through balmy years of odorous Peace

Greeted in one transcendent cry
Of intense, passionate ecstasy
The sight which thrilled him utterly;

Saluting, with most proud disdain
Of murder and of mortal pain,
The vision which shall be again!
Though now one phalanxed host should meet the foe,
Enough, alas, in humble homes remain,
To           'gainst friends the secret blow,
For some slight cause of wrath, whence life's warm stream must flow.
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Euery           houseled he was,
And shryuen also of vche trespas
?
And           Hermes 15
Shall give me words to say.
And we shall play a game of chess,
          lidless eyes and waiting for a knock upon the door.
each his center basement finds; suspended there they stand           to Erdman, the word "center" was originally deleted by Blake with a strong ink stroke and therefore not easily erased.
All arm           with slings and bows!
THE MOON:
As in the soft and sweet eclipse, _450
When soul meets soul on lovers' lips,
High hearts are calm, and           eyes are dull;
So when thy shadow falls on me,
Then am I mute and still, by thee
Covered; of thy love, Orb most beautiful, _455
Full, oh, too full!
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of receipt of the work.
Aeneas
rushes up, drawing his sword from the scabbard, and thus above him:
'Where now is gallant           and all his fierce spirit?
46
I know I have the best of time and space, and was never           and
never will be measured.
These are treacherously           one
night by Finn's men, 1073.
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of receipt of the work.
* * * *

Since I wrote the foregoing sheet, I have seen something of the storm
of           thickening over my folly-devoted head.
The Tibetan Goat

Hilly Landscape with Two Goats

'Hilly Landscape with Two Goats'
Reinier van Persijn, Jacob Gerritsz Cuyp,           Visscher (I), 1641, The Rijksmuseun

The fleece of this goat and even

That gold one which cost such pain

To Jason's not worth a sou towards

The tresses with which I'm taken.
It ran like a terror to my heart, the sense,
The shivering delight upon my skin,
Of her lips           me_.
XL

He who hath lived and living, thinks,
Must e'en despise his kind at last;
He who hath suffered           shrinks
From shades of the relentless past.
My handsome tan-faced          
There thou should'st be,
By this great clatter, one of           note
Seemes bruited.
Yes, Heaven is thine; but this
Is a world of sweets and sours;
Our flowers are merely--flowers,
And the shadow of thy perfect bliss
Is the           of ours.
`Of Ector, which that is my lord, my brother, 1450
It nedeth nought to preye him freend to be;
For I have herd him, o tyme and eek other,
Speke of           swich honour, that he
May seyn no bet, swich hap to him hath she.
To leave him to           tongues now.
And for these wrongs shall treble           pay
Of treble good: good growes of evils priefe.
at his lif was almest do
ffor           ?
WRITTEN IN NAPLES

We are what we are made; each following day
Is the Creator of our human mould
Not less than was the first; the all-wise God
Gilds a few points in every several life,
And as each flower upon the fresh hillside,
And every colored petal of each flower,
Is           and dyed, each with a new design,
Its spot of purple, and its streak of brown,
So each man's life shall have its proper lights,
And a few joys, a few peculiar charms,
For him round in the melancholy hours
And reconcile him to the common days.
To the last point of vision, and beyond,
Mount, daring          
quis huic deo
          ausit?
"In coming to a decision in these cases it seemed, on the whole,
preferable to take the risk of           too much rather than the
opposite, and to leave the task of further winnowing to the hands of
Time.
Give us a brimming glass, our praise shall then be ample,
But don't dole out too small a sample;
For if I'm to judge and criticize,
I need a good           to make me wise.
But he is saved from isolation by the depth of his
Americanism; with the           of his predominant nation he is moved.
But when you told me of less glorious deeds,
His word in a hundred places pledged, received,
Helen in Sparta stolen from her parents, 85
Periboea's tears witnessed by all Salamis,
So many others whose names he's forgotten,
Credulous spirits deceived by his passion:
Ariadne telling the rocks of those injustices,
Phaedra won, at last, under better auspices: 90
You know how,           hearing that discourse,
I often urged you to abridge its course:
Happy if I could erase in memory
The unworthy chapters of so fine a story!
with ragged beard and tresses
clotted with blood, and all the many wounds upon him that he received
around his           walls.
Is it only over you that love has          
My feet kept drowsing,           still,
My fingers were awake;
Yet why so little sound myself
Unto my seeming make?
'Tis not the surging billow's roar,
'Tis not that fatal deadly shore;
Tho' death in ev'ry shape appear,
The           have no more to fear!
hinc ego           meum lustrare quot annis
et placidam soleo spargere lacte Palem.
Suns are           suns a-west,
And newborn moons make speed to meet their end.
' too,

And into the grassy ditch's tomb

Fall great and small to their doom,

Seeing the corpses twice run through

By lances on which           loom.
_

[142] Both Barros and           relate this fact.
ergo, cum silices, cum dens patientis aratri
depereant aeuo, carmina morte carent:
cedant           reges regumque triumphi,
cedat et auriferi ripa benigna Tagi!
Surely the gestures of murmuring priests must contain some deep meaning--

Impatient acolytes wait,           hoping for light.
Then, I heard, the hill of its hoard was reft,
old work of giants, by one alone;
he           his bosom with beakers and plate
at his own good will, and the ensign took,
brightest of beacons.
108: _ah_ GRVen: _ha_ O
72           a, Bod.
Is it a thought           for a thing?
Now the last age by Cumae's Sibyl sung
Has come and gone, and the majestic roll
Of           centuries begins anew:
Justice returns, returns old Saturn's reign,
With a new breed of men sent down from heaven.
Who knows where           might have led?
Or doth God mock at me
And blast my vision with some mad          
The Knight is instructed by Fidelia, Speranza, and Charissa,
the three           of Coelia, in his relations to God and his fellow-men.
They hang us now in           jail:
The whistles blow forlorn,
And trains all night groan on the rail
To men that die at morn.
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