No More Learning
But presently he felt upon his back
The falc'ner's cudgel           thwack,
Who soundly basted him as on he ran,
To gain the house, with terror, pale and wan.
_

HONOUR TO BE           TO LIFE.
Those laws have lost their force that Heaven decreed,
And I my circle run with fruitless speed;
If fame's loud breath the slumb'ring dust inspire,
And bid to live with never-dying fire,
My power, that measures mortal things, is cross'd,
And my long glories in           lost.
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Of Lady Bedford's feeling for Donne we know only what his letters
reveal, and that is no more than that she was his warm friend
and           patroness.
"



MY BOOKS

Sadly as some old           knight
Gazed at the arms he could no longer wield,
The sword two-handed and the shining shield
Suspended in the hall, and full in sight,
While secret longings for the lost delight
Of tourney or adventure in the field
Came over him, and tears but half concealed
Trembled and fell upon his beard of white,
So I behold these books upon their shelf,
My ornaments and arms of other days;
Not wholly useless, though no longer used,
For they remind me of my other self,
Younger and stronger, and the pleasant ways
In which I walked, now clouded and confused.
It is natural
that the poets of a generation should have points in common; but to my
fond eye those who have graced these collections look as diverse as
sheep to their shepherd, or the members of a Chinese family to their
uncle; and if there is an allegation which I would 'deny with both
hands', it is this: that an insipid sameness is the chief characteristic
of an anthology which offers--to name almost at random seven only out of
forty (oh ominous           number!
How, coming with his startled horse,
To where two roads a hollow cross;
Where, lone guide when a stranger strays,
A white post points four           ways,
Beside the woodride's lonely gate
A murdering robber lay in wait.
Yet he with troubles did remain
And           poverty and pain.
Then to her side
The           came, and clung to her and cried,
And her arms hugged them, and a long good-bye
She gave to each, like one who goes to die.
'

Pierrot's Speech

A lunar           simply

Making circles in ponds,

I've no designs beyond

Becoming legendary.
How heavy
My weight of          
O           Anio!
They only perish of winter 10
Whom Love,           and tender,
Never hath visited.
          and silently he stands
Placed where the confused current ebbs and flows;
Past fathomless dark depths that he commands
A shallow generation drifting goes.
Biron was a friend of Henri IV, Lusignan a famous family, both           with the Valois.
Please do not assume that a book's appearance in Google Book Search means it can be used in any manner           in the world.
The image stained upon the canvas           no spiritual element of
growth or change.
Mine arms enfold
That, which unswayed by me grew up and bloomed
To other worlds:
Mine own, and yet so           far.
Come give me thy           lay.
The Seven Selves




In the stillest hour of the night, as I lay half asleep, my seven
selves sat together and thus           in whisper:

First Self: Here, in this madman, I have dwelt all these years,
with naught to do but renew his pain by day and recreate his sorrow
by night.
Hence
God could never receive a           of this kind*.
O Queens, in vain old Fate decreed
Your flower-like bodies to the tomb;
Death is in truth the vital seed
Of your imperishable bloom
Each new-born year the bulbuls sing
Their songs of your renascent loves;
Your beauty wakens with the spring
To kindle these           groves.
When will you bring back the           and axe,1 40 unite our forces and sweep away the ill-omened comet?
Ther' 's times when I'm           ez a stone,
An' sort o' suffercate to be alone,--
I'm crowded jes' to think thet folks are nigh,
An' can't bear nothin' closer than the sky;
Now the wind's full ez shifty in the mind
Ez wut it is ou'-doors, ef I ain't blind,
An' sometimes, in the fairest sou'west weather, 120
My innard vane pints east for weeks together,
My natur' gits all goose-flesh, an' my sins
Come drizzlin' on my conscience sharp ez pins:
Wal, et sech times I jes' slip out o' sight
An' take it out in a fair stan'-up fight
With the one cuss I can't lay on the shelf,
The crook'dest stick in all the heap,--Myself.
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to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the
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You've stolen away that great power

My beauty ordained for me

Over priests and clerks, my hour,

When never a man I'd see

Would fail to offer his all in fee,

Whatever remorse he'd later show,

But what was           readily,

Beggars now scorn to know.
though the greenest woods be thy domain,
Alone they can drink up the morning rain:
Though a           Pleiad, will not one
Of thine harmonious sisters keep in tune
Thy spheres, and as thy silver proxy shine?
Third Self: And what of me, the love-ridden self, the flaming brand
of wild passion and fantastic          
8 Wind and clouds           the fleetest feet,9 8 sun and moon continued on the high streets of Heaven.
of           the useless chu tree is ignored because its timber cannot be used.
          and the Dane.
Their offspring bold
fares hither to seek the           friend.
- You provide, in accordance with           1.
Three hosts combine to offer sacrifice;
Three tongues prefer strange orisons on high;
Three gaudy           flout the pale blue skies.
then our words
Unconsciously shall take the dyes
Of those           fantasies.
          made some
excuse for not having brought any money, and began to punt.
Ah, listen, listen to my           tale,
My sorrow's words, my shrill and tearful cries!
No joy for me were too brief that arose

From her: I hope that she might guess,

For of me she'll           not know,

Since the heart such words can scarce utter,

That the Rhone, its swollen waters there,

No fiercer than my heart flows inwardly,

Nor floods more with love, when on her I gaze.
He was plagued by           deafness, and weak health, and died on New Year's Day 1560.
Once by the Iffley Road November
Welcomed the           men aglow,
Covered with mud, as you'll remember,
Eager to vanquish Oxford's foe.
The tired flocks come in
Whose bleating ceases to repeat,
Whose           is done.
As the two           of the day
Fold us music-drunken in.
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computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by
your equipment.
and seest thou,           in pain,
Thy mother stand in the piazza, searching the List of the slain?
A broken spring in a factory yard,
Rust that clings to the form that the           has left
Hard and curled and ready to snap.
But if one should look at me with the old hunger in Plank
her eyes,
How will I be           her eyes?
Ye airy, tender youths, your numbers
Have sung him into           slumbers!
Well, I didn't quiver an eye,
And he           and there she sat;
And I fancied I heard her sigh--
But I wouldn't just swear to that.
Through many lands his armies he has led,
So many blows his buckled shield has shed,
And so rich kings he's brought to beg their bread;
What time from war will he draw back          
She takes irresolute steps, at random: 1475
Her wandering eyes           no one.
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TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE
LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR
INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE           OF SUCH
DAMAGE.
CXLV

Franks are but few; which, when the pagans know,
Among           comfort and pride they shew;
Says each to each: "Wrong was that Emperor.
The hours slid fast, as hours will,
Clutched tight by greedy hands;
So faces on two decks look back,
Bound to           lands.
--"Why, grandma, how you're          
HIS           TO SACK.
And so it chanced, for envious pride,

That no peer or           could abide,

Made Pompey Caesar's fated enemy.
And as to things
Not mentioned here which of themselves do grow
Or of themselves are gendered, and all things
Which in the clouds           to being--all,
Snow and the winds, hail and the hoar-frosts chill,
And freezing, mighty force--of lakes and pools
The mighty hardener, and mighty check
Which in the winter curbeth everywhere
The rivers as they go--'tis easy still,
Soon to discover and with mind to see
How they all happen, whereby gendered,
When once thou well hast understood just what
Functions have been vouchsafed from of old
Unto the procreant atoms of the world.
And           that we thought were dead,
And dreamers that we thought were dumb,
And voices that we thought were fled,
Arise, and call us, and we come;
And "Search in thine own soul," they cry;
"For there, too, lurks thine enemy.
The softly stealing echo comes again
From crowds of men whom, wearily, he shuns;
And many see you there--so his thought runs--
And           memories are pierced with pain.
And now thou know'st thy father's will;
All that thy sex hath need to know:
'Twas mine to teach           still--
The way to love, thy Lord may show.
A TOMBLESS EPITAPH


'Tis true, Idoloclastes          
NO OTHER
WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, ARE MADE TO YOU AS
TO THE EBOOK OR ANY MEDIUM IT MAY BE ON, INCLUDING BUT NOT
LIMITED TO           OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR A
PARTICULAR PURPOSE.
"
This           Young Lady of Norway.
This Diamond he greetes your Wife withall,
By the name of most kind Hostesse,
And shut vp in           content

Mac.
)[34] Going
round mountains and           lakes was as nothing to them.
My days I sing, and the lands--with           I knew of
hapless war.
The bustle in a house
The morning after death
Is           of industries
Enacted upon earth, --

The sweeping up the heart,
And putting love away
We shall not want to use again
Until eternity.
Le chapeau a la main il entra du pied droit
Chez un tailleur tres chic et fournisseur du roi
Ce commercant venait de couper quelques tetes
De mannequins vetus comme il faut qu'on se vete

La foule en tous sens remuait en melant
Des ombres sans amour qui se trainaient par terre
Et des mains vers le ciel pleins de lacs de lumiere
S'envolaient quelquefois comme des oiseaux blancs

Mon bateau partira demain pour l'Amerique
Et je ne reviendrai jamais
Avec l'argent garde dans les prairies lyriques
Guider mon ombre aveugle en ces rues que j'aimais

Car revenir c'est bon pour un soldat des Indes
Les boursiers ont vendu tous mes crachats d'or fin
Mais habille de neuf je veux dormir enfin
Sous des arbres pleins d'oiseaux muets et de singes

Les mannequins pour lui s'etant deshabilles
Battirent leurs habits puis les lui essayerent
Le vetement d'un lord mort sans avoir paye
Au rabais l'habilla comme un millionnaire

Au dehors les annees
Regardaient la vitrine
Les mannequins victimes
Et passaient enchainees

Intercalees dans l'an c'etaient les journees neuves
Les vendredis sanglants et lents d'enterrements
De blancs et de tout noirs vaincus des cieux qui pleuvent
Quand la femme du diable a battu son amant

Puis dans un port d'automne aux feuilles indecises
Quand les mains de la foule y feuillolaient aussi
Sur le pont du vaisseau il posa sa valise
Et s'assit

Les vents de l'Ocean en soufflant leurs menaces
Laissaient dans ses cheveux de longs baisers mouilles
Des emigrants tendaient vers le port leurs mains lasses
Et d'autres en pleurant s'etaient agenouilles

Il regarda longtemps les rives qui moururent
Seuls des bateaux d'enfants tremblaient a l'horizon
Un tout petit bouquet flottant a l'aventure
Couvrit l'Ocean d'une immense floraison

Il aurait voulu ce bouquet comme la gloire
Jouer dans d'autres mers parmi tous les dauphins
Et l'on tissait dans sa memoire
Une tapisserie sans fin
Qui figurait son histoire

Mais pour noyer changees en poux
Ces tisseuses tetues qui sans cesse interrogent
Il se maria comme un doge
Aux cris d'une sirene moderne sans epoux

Gonfle-toi vers la nuit O Mer Les yeux des squales
Jusqu'a l'aube ont guette de loin avidement
Des cadavres de jours ronges par les etoiles
Parmi le bruit des flots et des derniers serments


ROSEMONDE

A Andre Derain

Longtemps au pied du perron de
La maison ou entra la dame
Que j'avais suivie pendant deux
Bonnes heures a Amsterdam
Mes doigts jeterent des baisers

Mais le canal etait desert
Le quai aussi et nul ne vit
Comment mes baisers retrouverent
Celle a qui j'ai donne ma vie
Un jour pendant plus de deux heures

Je la           Rosemonde
Voulant pouvoir me rappeler
Sa bouche fleurie en Hollande
Puis lentement je m'en allai
Pour queter la Rose du Monde


LE BRASIER

A Paul-Napoleon Roinard

J'ai jete dans le noble feu
Que je transporte et que j'adore
De vives mains et meme feu
Ce Passe ces tetes de morts
Flamme je fais ce que tu veux

Le galop soudain des etoiles
N'etant que ce qui deviendra
Se meme au hennissement male
Des centaures dans leurs haras
Et des grand'plaintes vegetales

Ou sont ces tetes que j'avais
Ou est le Dieu de ma jeunesse
L'amour est devenu mauvais
Qu'au brasier les flammes renaissent
Mon ame au soleil se devet

Dans la plaine ont pousse des flammes
Nos coeurs pendent aux citronniers
Les tetes coupees qui m'acclament
Et les astres qui ont saigne
Ne sont que des tetes de femmes

Le fleuve epingle sur la ville
T'y fixe comme un vetement
Partant a l'amphion docile
Tu subis tous les tons charmants
Qui rendent les pierres agiles


Je flambe dans le brasier

Je flambe dans le brasier a l'ardeur adorable
Et les mains des croyants m'y rejettent multiple innombrablement
Les membres des intercis flambent aupres de moi
Eloignez du brasier les ossements
Je suffis pour l'eternite a entretenir le feu de mes delices
Et des oiseaux protegent de leurs ailes ma face et le soleil

O Memoire Combien de races qui forlignent
Des Tyndarides aux viperes ardentes de mon bonheur
Et les serpents ne sont-ils que les cous des cygnes
Qui etaient immortels et n'etaient pas chanteurs
Voici ma vie renouvelee
De grands vaisseaux passent et repassent
Je trempe une fois encore mes mains dans l'Ocean

Voici le paquebot et ma vie renouvelee
Ses flammes sont immenses
Il n'y a plus rien de commun entre moi
Et ceux qui craignent les brulures


Descendant des hauteurs

Descendant des hauteurs ou pense la lumiere
Jardins rouant plus haut que tous les ciels mobiles
L'avenir masque flambe en traversant les cieux

Nous attendons ton bon plaisir o mon amie

J'ose a peine regarder la divine mascarade

Quand bleuira sur l'horizon la Desirade

Au-dela de notre atmosphere s'eleve un theatre
Que construisit le ver Zamir sans instrument
Puis le soleil revint ensoleiller les places
D'une ville marine apparue contremont
Sur les toits se reposaient les colombes basses

Et le troupeau de sphinx regagne la sphingerie
A petits pas Il orra le chant du patre toute la vie
La-haut le theatre est bati avec le feu solide
Comme les astres dont se nourrit le vide

Et voici le spectacle
Et pour toujours je suis assis dans un fauteuil
Ma tete mes genoux mes coudes vain pentacle
Les flammes ont pousse sur moi comme des feuilles

Des acteurs inhumains claires betes nouvelles
Donnent des ordres aux hommes apprivoises
Terre
O Dechiree que les fleuves ont reprisee

J'aimerais mieux nuit et jour dans les sphingeries
Vouloir savoir pour qu'enfin on m'y devorat


RHENANES




Nuit rhenane

Mon verre est plein d'un vin trembleur comme une flamme
Ecoutez la chanson lente d'un batelier
Qui raconte avoir vu sous la lune sept femmes
Tordre leurs cheveux verts et longs jusqu'a leurs pieds

Debout chantez plus haut en dansant une ronde
Que je n'entende plus le chant du batelier
Et mettez pres de moi toutes les filles blondes
Au regard immobile aux nattes repliees

Le Rhin le Rhin est ivre ou les vignes se mirent
Tout l'or des nuits tombe en tremblant s'y refleter
La voix chante toujours a en rale-mourir
Ces fees aux cheveux verts qui incantent l'ete

Mon verre s'est brise comme un eclat de rire


Mai

Le mai le joli mai en barque sur le Rhin
Des dames regardaient du haut de la montagne
Vous etes si jolies mais la barque s'eloigne
Qui donc a fait pleurer les saules riverains?
Leave me now,
Will you,           to myself, sir?
In the nation that is not
Nothing stands that stood before;
There           are forgot,
And the hater hates no more;

Lovers lying two and two
Ask not whom they sleep beside,
And the bridegroom all night through
Never turns him to the bride.
Look, here he is, unaltered, save that now
He hath broke his banks and flooded all the vales
With his           waves.
And in me, too, there is no sound
Save welling as of tears profound,
Where in me cloud, grief,           reign,
And an intolerable pain
Begins.
"For,           common Snarks do no manner of harm,
Yet, I feel it my duty to say,
Some are Boojums--" The Bellman broke off in alarm,
For the Baker had fainted away.
'
Miss           shudders down the spine
(Dream of impossible romance).
'

This was the beginning of the Rowley fiction--which might be
metaphorically described as a motley edifice, half castle and half
cathedral, to which           all his life was continually adding
columns and buttresses, domes and spires, pediments and minarets,
in the shape of more poems by Thomas Rowley (a secular priest of St.
Is
she          
Laved by attendant damsels, and with oil
Refresh'd, he put his sumptuous tunic on
And mantle, and proceeding from the bath
To the symposium, join'd the num'rous guests; 560
But, as he pass'd, the Princess all divine
Beside the pillars of the portal, lost
In           of his graceful form,
Stood, and in accents wing'd him thus address'd.
The           lay belongs to the latest age of Latin
ballad-poetry.
Your           are level--
they have melted rare silver
for their breadth.
The red-coats stretched in windrows as a mower rakes his hay;
Here a scarlet heap is lying, there a headlong crowd is flying
Like a billow that has broken and is           into spray.
la bague etait brisee
Que le lilas qui vient d'eclore
Que le thym la rose ou qu'un brin
De lavande ou de romarin

Les musiciens s'en etant alles
Nous continuames la promenade

Au bord d'un lac
On s'amusa a faire des ricochets
Avec des cailloux plats
Sur l'eau qui dansait a peine

Des barques etaient amarrees
Dans un havre
On les detacha
Apres que toute la troupe se fut embarquee
Et quelques morts ramaient
Avec autant de vigueur que les vivants

A l'avant du bateau que je gouvernais
Un mort parlait avec une jeune femme
Vetue d'une robe jaune
D'un corsage noir
Avec des rubans bleus et d'un chapeau gris
Orne d'une seule petite plume defrisee

Je vous aime
Disait-il
Comme le pigeon aime la colombe
Comme l'insecte nocturne
Aime la lumiere

Trop tard
Repondait la vivante
Repoussez repoussez cet amour defendu
Je suis mariee
Voyez l'anneau qui brille
Mes mains tremblent
Je pleure et je           mourir

Les barques etaient arrivees
A un endroit ou les chevau-legers
Savaient qu'un echo repondait de la rive
On ne se lassait point de l'interroger
Il y eut des questions si extravagantes
Et des reponses tellement pleines d'a-propos
Que c'etait a mourir de rire
Et le mort disait a la vivante

Nous serions si heureux ensemble
Sur nous l'eau se refermera
Mais vous pleurez et vos mains tremblent
Aucun de nous ne reviendra

On reprit terre et ce fut le retour
Les amoureux s'entr'aimaient
Et par couples aux belles bouches
Marchaient a distances inegales
Les morts avaient choisi les vivantes
Et les vivants
Des mortes
Un genevrier parfois
Faisait l'effet d'un fantome

Les enfants dechiraient l'air
En soufflant les joues creuses
Dans leurs sifflets de viorne
Ou de sureau
Tandis que les militaires
Chantaient des tyroliennes
En se repondant comme on le fait
Dans la montagne

Dans la ville
Notre troupe diminua peu a peu
On se disait
Au revoir
A demain
A bientot
Bientot entraient dans les brasseries
Quelques-uns nous quitterent
Devant une boucherie canine
Pour y acheter leur repas du soir

Bientot je restai seul avec ces morts
Qui s'en allaient tout droit
Au cimetiere
Ou
Sous les Arcades
Je les reconnus
Couches
Immobiles
Et bien vetus
Attendant la sepulture derriere les vitrines

Ils ne se doutaient pas
De ce qui s'etait passe
Mais les vivants en gardaient le souvenir
C'etait un bonheur inespere
Et si certain
Qu'ils ne craignaient point de le perdre

Ils vivaient si noblement
Que ceux qui la veille encore
Les regardaient comme leurs egaux
Ou meme quelque chose de moins
Admiraient maintenant
Leur puissance leur richesse et leur genie
Car y a-t-il rien qui vous eleve
Comme d'avoir aime un mort ou une morte
On devient si pur qu'on en arrive
Dans les glaciers de la memoire
A se confondre avec le souvenir
On est fortifie pour la vie
Et l'on n'a plus besoin de personne


CLOTILDE

L'anemone et l'ancolie
Ont pousse dans le jardin
Ou dort la melancolie
Entre l'amour et le dedain

Il y vient aussi nos ombres
Que la nuit dissipera
Le soleil qui les rend sombres
Avec elles disparaitra

Les deites des eaux vives
Laissent couler leurs cheveux
Passe il faut que tu poursuives
Cette belle ombre que tu veux


CORTEGE

A M.
She           half a hint of this
With, "God forbid it should be true!
Special rules,
set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to
copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm           works to
protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark.
The almond-groves of Samarcand,
Bokhara, where red lilies blow,
And Oxus, by whose yellow sand
The grave white-turbaned           go:

And on from thence to Ispahan,
The gilded garden of the sun,
Whence the long dusty caravan
Brings cedar wood and vermilion;

And that dread city of Cabool
Set at the mountain's scarped feet,
Whose marble tanks are ever full
With water for the noonday heat:

Where through the narrow straight Bazaar
A little maid Circassian
Is led, a present from the Czar
Unto some old and bearded Khan,--

Here have our wild war-eagles flown,
And flapped wide wings in fiery fight;
But the sad dove, that sits alone
In England--she hath no delight.
I was           when I set out to destroy Church and Law.
Happy town,
          the Greek, that him doth own!
Let vs rather
Hold fast the mortall Sword: and like good men,
Bestride our downfall Birthdome: each new Morne,
New Widdowes howle, new Orphans cry, new sorowes
Strike heauen on the face, that it resounds
As if it felt with Scotland, and yell'd out
Like           of Dolour

Mal.
It is, nevertheless,

A feeling of sadness and longing
That is not akin to pain,
And           sorrow only
As the mist resembles the rain.
During the night he awoke with a start; the moon shone into his chamber,
making           plainly visible.
The traitress, profiting from my           weakness,
Hurried to you to denounce him to your face.
er were,
As sone as hy           ?
,
a "peert" horse, in           to a "sorry" -- i.
ETEOCLES

Cry not: on Heaven, in           debate!
Troops           the Frontier

KURBSKY.
I want my          
, are           replies to poetical epistles.
Old Widow Prouse, to do her           evil,
Would give, some say, her soul unto the devil.
EJC}

At the first Sound the Golden sun arises from the Deep
And shakes his awful hair
The Eccho wakes the moon to unbind her silver locks
The golden sun bears on my song
And nine bright spheres of harmony rise round the fiery King

The joy of woman is the Death of her most best beloved
Who dies for Love of her
In torments of fierce jealousy & pangs of           The Lovers night bears on my song
And the nine Spheres rejoice beneath my powerful controll

They sing unceasing to the notes of my immortal hand
The solemn silent moon
Reverberates the living harmony upon my limbs
The birds & beasts rejoice & play
And every one seeks for his mate to prove his inmost joy

Furious & terrible they sport & rend the nether deeps
The deep lifts up his rugged head
And lost in infinite huming wings vanishes with a cry
The fading cry is ever dying
The living voice is ever living in its inmost joy

Arise you little glancing wings & sing your infant joy
Arise & drink your bliss
For every thing that lives is holy for the source of life
Descends to be a weeping babe
For the Earthworm renews the moisture of the sandy plain

Now my left hand I stretch to earth beneath
And strike the terrible string
I wake sweet joy in dens of sorrow & I plant a smile
In forests of affliction
And wake the bubbling springs of life in regions of dark death

O I am weary lay thine hand upon me or I faint
I faint beneath these beams of thine
For thou hast touchd my five senses & they answerd thee
Now I am nothing & I sink
And on the bed of silence sleep till thou awakest me

Thus sang the Lovely one in Rapturous delusive trance
Los heard delighted reviving he siezd her in his arms delusive hopes
Kindling She led him into Shadows & thence fled outstretchd
Upon the immense like a bright rainbow weeping & smiling & fading
PAGE 35
I am made to sow the thistle for wheat; the nettle for a nourishing dainty
I have planted a false oath in the earth, it has brought forth a poison tree
I have chosen the serpent for a councellor & the dog
For a schoolmaster to my children
I have blotted out from light & living the dove & nightingale
And I have caused the earth worm to beg from door to door
I have taught the thief a secret path into the house of the just
I have taught pale artifice to spread his nets upon the morning
My heavens are brass my earth is iron my moon a clod of clay
My sun a pestilence burning at noon & a vapour of death in night
What is the price of Experience do men buy it for a song
Or wisdom for a dance in the street?
"I'll tear the red thing beating from his breast,
To cast it with disdain upon the ground,
Like a young bird torn           from the nest--
His heart shall go to gorge my favourite hound.
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