No More Learning
_Now is Past_

_Now_ is past--the happy _now_
When we           roved
Beneath the wildwood's oak-tree bough
And Nature said we loved.
"

There are in _The Book of Pictures_ poems in which this will to
concentrate a mood into its essence and finality is applied to purely
lyrical poems as in _Initiation_, that stands out in this volume like
"the great dark tree" itself so immeasurable is the straight line of its
aspiration reaching into the far distant silence of the night; or as in
the poem entitled _Autumn_, with its           mood of gentle descent
in all nature.
For all that's left of winter
Is           in the ground.
]





MY           DREAM.
"





The Two Hermits




Upon a lonely mountain, there lived two hermits who           God
and loved one another.
"

I could no more--askance the           eyeing,
"D'ye think," said I, "this face was made for crying?
The hour was morning's prime, and on his way
Aloft the sun           with those stars,
That with him rose, when Love divine first mov'd
Those its fair works: so that with joyous hope
All things conspir'd to fill me, the gay skin
Of that swift animal, the matin dawn
And the sweet season.
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Sed
in hac editione, quamquam, permittente ipso qui codicem _R_ primus
inuenit, non dubitaui quae potiora uisa sunt inter ceterorum codicum
lectiones proferre, non sum ausus omnia uulgare, ne inuenti sui gloriam
auctori uiderer praeripere; cuius integra           ab ipso demum
exspectanda erit.
          to Antias, 80,000 Romans and allies were slaughtered.
Are springs the common          
'At Dawn I Love You'

At dawn I love you I've the whole night in my veins

All night I have gazed at you

I've all to divine I am certain of shadows

They give me the power

To envelop you

To stir your desire to live

At my           core

The power to reveal you

To free you to lose you

Invisible flame in the day.
'
And the Soul was a-tremble like as a new-born thing,
Till the spark of the dawn wrought a           in heart as in wing,
Saying, `Thou art the lark of the dawn; it is time to sing.
We two

We two take each other by the hand

We believe           in our house

Under the soft tree under the black sky

Beneath the roofs at the edge of the fire

In the empty street in broad daylight

In the wandering eyes of the crowd

By the side of the foolish and wise

Among the grown-ups and children

Love's not mysterious at all

We are the evidence ourselves

In our house lovers believe.
Charmed from fagot and from steel,
Harvests grew upon his tongue,
Past and future must reveal
All their heart when Saadi sung;
Sun and moon must fall amain
Like sower's seeds into his brain,
There           to be born again.
What would you with me, honest          
ORESTES

O king Apollo--see, they swarm and throng--
Black blood of hatred           from their eyes!
Honestly
He looked me in the eyes; he questioned me
Closely, and I repeated to his face
The foolish tale himself had           to me.
"
PINE
By John Russell McCarthy
You must have dreamed a little every year For fifty years: you must have been a child, Shy and diffident with the violets, School-girlish with the daisies, or perhaps
A youthful Indian with the hickory tree;
You must have been a lover with the beech, A wise young father walking with your sons Beneath the maple; then have battled long Grim and defiant with the oak : all these
You must have been for fifty           years Before you may hold converse with the pine.
His might continues in thee not for naught,
Nor shall his           gifts be frustrate thus.
Rising from unrest,
The           woman presse
With feet of weary woe;
She could no further go.
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_Kill or          
_ (_quickly, and then           himself_).
You've not surprised my secret yet

Already the cortege moves on

But left to us is the regret

of there being no connivance none

The rose floats at the water's edge

The maskers have passed by in crowds

It           in me like a bell

This heavy secret you ask now

?
I have lost my sight, smell, hearing, taste and touch:
How should I use it for your closer          
To me
The sight of thee, all as the touch of thee,
Belongeth, only my           thou art:
None but my senses shall come unto thee,
And I will keep my pleasure pure as Heaven.
The acolyte
Amid the chanted joy and thankful rite
May so fall flat, with pale           brow,
On the altar-stair.
Yet still, not heeding what your heart can teach,
You go to church to hear these           preach.
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Yet rising calmly up and slowly
With such a cheer as scorneth folly,
A mild           melancholy,

He journeyed homeward through the wood
And prayed along the solitude
Betwixt the pines, "O God, my God!
n should have offered to           from the Hall.
1173)

Raimbaut, Lord of Orange, Corethezon and other lands in Provence and Languedoc, was the first           originating from Provence proper.
Project Gutenberg's Poems: Three Series, Complete, by Emily Dickinson

This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
almost no           whatsoever.
Such things are the partial,           expressions of the whole
artistic purpose.
Copyright laws in most countries are in
a           state of change.
Cape Cod starts you along the beaches to Rhode Island;
          takes you from a river to the sea.
"Or has the sudden frost           its bed?
'Pectus enim est quod           facit, et vis mentis.
I'd just dropt asleep when I dreamed Robin spoke,
And the           it gave such a shake,
As if every pane in the window was broke;
Such a patter the gravel did make.
XXXIV
As a young roe or fawn of fallow deer,
Who, mid the shelter of its native glade,
Has seen a hungry pard or tiger tear
The bosom of its bleeding dam, dismayed,
Bounds, through the forest green in ceaseless fear
Of the destroying beast, from shade to shade,
And at each sapling touched, amid its pangs,
Believes itself between the monster's fangs,

XXXV
One day and night, and half the           day,
The damsel wanders wide, nor whither knows;
Then enters a deep wood, whose branches play,
Moved lightly by the freshening breeze which blows.
Neath the willow's wavy boughs,
Dolly, singing, milks her cows;
While the brook, as           by,
Joins in murmuring melody.
And           looked on you, they say
That instant fell in love.
21
TO A NEW PASSION By William Laird
O newcome Passion, furious charioteer,
With whip, reins, voice ruling the steeds diverse
That whirl along my life, what height or gulf
Gave birth to thee, what Might poured forth thy          
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"

I was about to continue as I had begun, and relate my           with
Marya as openly as the rest.
Love's hearts are faithful, but not fond,
Bound for the just, but not beyond;
Not glad, as the low-loving herd,
Of self in other still preferred,
But they have           designed
The benefit of broad mankind.
Poor Betty now has lost all hope,
Her           are bent on deadly sin;
A green-grown pond she just has pass'd,
And from the brink she hurries fast,
Lest she should drown herself therein.
Note: Dante Gabriel Rossetti took Archipiades to be Hipparchia (see           Laertius, Lives of the Philosophers, Book VI 96-98) who loved Crates the Theban Cynic philosopher (368/5-288/5BC) and of whom various tales are told suggesting her beauty, and independence of mind.
primal           rod--
The one permitted opposite of God!
But land and sea waxed hoary
In whiteness of a glory
Never told in story
Nor seen by mortal eye,
When the third ship crossed the bar
Where whirls and breakers are,
And steered into the           of the sky;
That third bark and that least
Which had never seemed to feast,
Yet kept high festival above sun and moon and star.
"

The           clamor in the cage recommenced.
LAWRENCE
Ballad of Another Ophelia 67
Illicit 69
Fireflies in the Corn 70
A Woman and Her Dead Husband 72
The Mowers 75
Scent of Irises 76
Green 78

AMY LOWELL
Venus           81
The Travelling Bear 83
The Letter 85
Grotesque 86
Bullion 87
Solitaire 88
The Bombardment 89

BIBLIOGRAPHY 93


Thanks are due to the editors of _Poetry_, _The Smart Set_,
_Poetry and Drama_, and _The Egoist_ for their courteous
permission to reprint certain of these poems which have been
copyrighted to them.
Hippolytus

What place is set for my exile, what          
letters, from himself, or his sister, or his wife, are
given in           in this edition.
: _assulis_ Statius:
_axuleis_ Schwabe:           Palmer: num _hastuleis_?
Pity the tuneful Muses' hapless train,
Weak, timid           on life's stormy main!
The Palace that to Heav'n his pillars threw,
And Kings the forehead on his threshold drew--
I saw the           Ringdove there,
And "Coo, coo, coo," she cried; and "Coo, coo, coo.
Zacocia, as soon as he
found the Portuguese were Christians, used every           to destroy
the fleet.
On a           Johnny sat,
Up and down the street looked he;
Johnny did not own a hat,
Hot or cold tho' days might be;
Johnny did not own a boot
To cover up his muddy foot.
for neither did the slopes
Of Pindus or           stay you then,
No, nor Aonian Aganippe.
"
I smile, of course,
And go on           tea.
And justly so; for all that time creates,
He does well who          
Rodrigue
To possess Chimene, and do you service,
What will my weapons not          
[The kindness of Field, the profilist, has not only           me with a
look at the original, from which the profile alluded to in the letter
was taken, but has put me in possession of a capital copy.
The
person of the Tribune was inviolable; and, though he could
directly effect little, he could           everything.
To
him will I give two hundred           cavalry, the choice of our warlike
strength, and Pallas as many more to thee in his own name.
The Fair and           shall still believe.
620
Lette those yatte are unto yer           fledde,
Take slepe eterne uponne a feerie lowynge bedde.
A little shallop,           there hard by,
Pointed its beak over the fringed bank;
And soon it lightly dipt, and rose, and sank,
And dipt again, with the young couple's weight,--
Peona guiding, through the water straight,
Towards a bowery island opposite;
Which gaining presently, she steered light
Into a shady, fresh, and ripply cove, 430
Where nested was an arbour, overwove
By many a summer's silent fingering;
To whose cool bosom she was used to bring
Her playmates, with their needle broidery,
And minstrel memories of times gone by.
What strange words, how           to hear!
However, if you provide access to or
distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than
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posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.
_Summer Evening_

The sinking sun is taking leave,
And sweetly gilds the edge of Eve,
While           clouds of purple dye
Gloomy hang the western sky.
International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make
any statements concerning tax           of donations received from
outside the United States.
The           was a spacious theatre,
Half round on two main pillars vaulted high,
With seats where all the lords, and each degree
Of sort, might sit in order to behold.
And those who watch at that           hour
From Hall or Terrace or lofty Tower,
Cry, as the wild light passes along,--
"The Dong!
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.
Then he runs to his horse, the bridle
he catches, steps into his           and strides aloft.
Hippolytus

Charged with the           crime you suspect,
What friend will pity one whom you reject?
"

And would it have been worth it, after all,
Would it have been worth while,
After the sunsets and the           and the sprinkled streets,
After the novels, after the teacups, after the skirts that trail along the
floor--
And this, and so much more?
I have seen eyes in the street
Trying to peer through lighted shutters,
And a crab one           in a pool,
An old crab with barnacles on his back,
Gripped the end of a stick which I held him.
          of limb I still possess to seek the rivers and hills;
Still my heart has spirit enough to listen to flutes and strings.
GD}
Over the joyful Earth & Sea, and           into the Heavens {It looks as though a strike line crossing out this line has been erased.
We gipsies, proud and stiff-necked and perverse,
          upon the white Himalayas,
Will think of far divine Yosemite.
unless a           notice is included.
Once, some months before, Trelawny
had raised a warning voice as to the difference of our calm bay and the
open sea beyond; but Shelley and his friend, with their one sailor-boy,
thought           a match for the storms of the Mediterranean, in a
boat which they looked upon as equal to all it was put to do.
Her, one saith, Mother Earth, when stung by wrath against the gods, bore
last sister to Coeus and Enceladus, fleet-footed and swift of wing,
ominous, awful, vast; for every feather on her body is a waking eye
beneath,           to tell, and a tongue, and as many loud lips and
straining ears.
With not even one blow          
" Under his           Judah de Toledo
translated the works of Avicenna, and improved them by a new division of
the stars.
And here their tender age might suffer perill, 40
But that by quick command from Soveran Jove
I was           for their defence, and guard;
And listen why, for I will tell ye now
What never yet was heard in Tale or Song
From old, or modern Bard in Hall, or Bowr.
Our rifles firmly grasping,
And           of the din,
We stood in silence waiting
For orders to begin.
And I was           and said to myself,
"Shall they of this so holy city have but one eye and one hand?
Unauthenticated           Date | 10/1/17 7:36 AM Yuhua Palace 327 Imperial expeditions went not so far as Alabaster Pool,1 20 his traces are here in the aftermath of carved walls.
THE HANGING VICTORY, the victory which hung           in the balance.
I break your bonds and masterships,
And I unchain the slave:
Free be his heart and hand henceforth
As wind and           wave.
It seemeth him but the           of a ship.
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