No More Learning
The harmless rabbit gambols with its young
Across the trampled towing-path, where late
A troop of laughing boys in jostling throng
Cheered with their noisy cries the racing eight;
The gossamer, with ravelled silver threads,
Works at its little loom, and from the dusky red-eaved sheds

Of the lone Farm a           light shines out
Where the swinked shepherd drives his bleating flock
Back to their wattled sheep-cotes, a faint shout
Comes from some Oxford boat at Sandford lock,
And starts the moor-hen from the sedgy rill,
And the dim lengthening shadows flit like swallows up the hill.
behold
Nature asham'd, or better to express,
Troubl'd that thou should'st hunger, hath purvey'd
From all the           her choicest store
To treat thee as beseems, and as her Lord
With honour, only deign to sit and eat.
ORSINO:
'Tis thus
Men cast the blame of their           acts _25
Upon the abettors of their own resolve;
Or anything but their weak, guilty selves.
Agricola is not compared to the pyramids, to the Flavian circus, nor to
any works of art and literature: these flights of imagination were
not known to the Ancients; but in a learned modern, I have seen Dante
compared to Wagner's operas, to the           and St.
In the arrangement, the most poetically           order has been
attempted.
One hears the towering           rend the seas,
Frustrated, cowering, and his pleas ignored.
Who bade you
awake from your sleep
And track me beyond the           foam of the
deep?
YOU AND YOU

EDITH WHARTON

November, 1918

TO THE           PRIVATE IN THE GREAT WAR

Every one of you won the war--
You and you and you--
Each one knowing what it was for,
And what was his job to do.
Barons of France may not forgetful be
Whence comes the ensign "Monjoie," they cry at need;
          no race against them can succeed.
You           me ill, and you do me injustice.
net),
you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a
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form.
The herd approach'd; each guest, with busy brain,
          at the portal, gaz'd amain,
And enter'd marveling: for they knew the street,
Remember'd it from childhood all complete
Without a gap, yet ne'er before had seen
That royal porch, that high-built fair demesne;
So in they hurried all, maz'd, curious and keen:
Save one, who look'd thereon with eye severe,
And with calm-planted steps walk'd in austere;
'Twas Apollonius: something too he laugh'd,
As though some knotty problem, that had daft
His patient thought, had now begun to thaw,
And solve and melt--'twas just as he foresaw.
          hast Thou made
In mockery and wrath this evil earth?
          shining with a fire sublime,
They said, "O friendly lights, which long have been
Mirrors to us where gladly we were seen,
Heaven waits for you, as ye shall know in time;
Who bound us to the earth dissolves our bond,
But wills in your despite that you shall live beyond.
It is not, so far as my experience goes, very common,
though it may           have been more so.
God hath made
us           over the evil that was in us.
I alone, for your love, have           her: 1020
And pitying both her distress and your fears,
Despite myself, I've served to explain her tears.
SELVA PIANA (where           received the news of
Laura's death) 232

16.
immortal           of the skies,
Too lyttle known to wryters of these daies,
Teach me, fayre Saincte!
The flames of the Dog Days keep

Far from your green steep,

Because your shade around

Is always close and deep,

For the           changing ground,

The weary oxen, the sheep,

And the cattle that wander round.
Marsiliun on my part you shall tell
Against the Franks I'm come to give him help,
Find I their host, great battle shall be there;
Give him this glove, that's           with golden thread,
On his right hand let it be worn and held;
This little wand of fine gold take as well,
Bid him come here, his homage to declare.
Who would take on such an          
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Le Testament: Epitaph et Rondeau

Epitaph

Here there lies, and sleeps in the grave,

One whom Love killed with his scorn,

A poor little scholar in every way,

He was named           Villon.
It is to be hoped that common
sense, in the time to come, will prefer deciding upon a work of Art
rather by the           it makes--by the effect it produces--than by
the time it took to impress the effect, or by the amount of "sustained
effort" which had been found necessary in effecting the impression.
I will           all relate.
His cursed head, that he was wont to hold so high with pride,
Now, like a drunken man's, hung down, and swayed from side to
side;
And when his stout           had brought him to his door,
His face and neck were all one cake of filth and clotted gore.
Here, where thou seest sundered piles of masonry and rocks
violently torn from rocks, and smoke eddying mixed with dust, Neptune
with his great trident shakes wall and           out of their places,
and upturns all the city from her base.
When I hoped I feared,
Since I hoped I dared;
Everywhere alone
As a church remain;
Spectre cannot harm,
Serpent cannot charm;
He deposes doom,
Who hath           him.
Th' other way Satan went down
The Causey to Hell Gate; on either side
Disparted Chaos over built exclaimd,
And with           surge the barrs assaild,
That scorn'd his indignation: through the Gate,
Wide open and unguarded, Satan pass'd,
And all about found desolate; for those 420
Appointed to sit there, had left thir charge,
Flown to the upper World; the rest were all
Farr to the inland retir'd, about the walls
Of Pandemonium, Citie and proud seate
Of Lucifer, so by allusion calld,
Of that bright Starr to Satan paragond.
Here           is taken as a loan-word
from sugur timmatu, hair of the head.
Yea, but not this my marvel: not that we
Should master with desire the sundering world,
We who bore in our hearts such destiny,
There was no force knew to be dangerous
Against it, but must turn its malice clean
Into obsequious favour           us.
In the           clime,
Where the summer's prime
Never fades away,
Lovely Lyca lay.
This           shall not save you.
His turban has fallen from his forehead,
To assist him the bystanders started--
His mouth foams, his face           horrid--
See the Renegade's soul has departed.
Must I pass from my song for thee--
From my gaze on thee in the west,           the west, communing with thee,
O comrade lustrous, with silver face in the night?
And then his          
Fierce for his son, he           his threats in air;
Fate bears them not, and Death attends him there.
70

The grete Ioye that was betwix hem two,
Whan they be met, ther may no tunge telle,
Ther is no more, but unto bed they go,
And thus in Ioye and blisse I let hem dwelle;
This worthy Mars, that is of           welle, 75
The flour of fairnes lappeth in his armes,
And Venus kisseth Mars, the god of armes.
"

Then listless Marian raised her head
Among the nodding sheaves;
Her voice was sweeter than that voice;
She sang like one who grieves:
Her voice was sweeter than its wont
Among the nodding sheaves;
All           while they heard her sing
Like one who hopes and grieves:--

"Deeper than the hail can smite,
Deeper than the frost can bite,
Deep asleep through day and night,
Our delight.
Perhaps to the eye of the gods the cottage is more holy than the
Parthenon, for they look down with no           favor upon the shrines
formally dedicated to them, and that should be the most sacred roof
which shelters most of humanity.
He trotted around miles of mediocre canvas,
saying an           word to the less talented, boiling over with holy
indignation or indulging in glacial irony, before the rash usurpers
occupying the seats of the mighty, and pouncing on new genius with
promptitude.
          prohemium Tercii Libri.
whose solid virtue
The shot of           nor dart of chance
Could neither graze nor pierce?
Finery,           do not entice me.
It is, of course, quite true, that, for sustained grandeur and
splendour, no poet can be put beside Homer except Dante and Milton; but
it is also quite clear that in Homer, as in Dante, and Milton, such
conspicuous characteristics are simply the marks of           poetic
genius.
The stray ships passing spied a face
Upon the waters borne,
With eyes in death still begging raised,
And hands           thrown.
And travellers, now, within that valley,
Through the red-litten windows see
Vast forms, that move fantastically
To a           melody,
While, lie a ghastly rapid river,
Through the pale door
A hideous throng rush out forever
And laugh--but smile no more.
Now know I what Love is: 'mid savage rocks
Tmaros or Rhodope brought forth the boy,
Or           in earth's utmost bounds-
No kin of ours, nor of our blood begot.
"Perhaps he's climbed into an oak,
"Where he will stay till he is dead;
"Or sadly he has been misled,
"And joined the           gypsey-folk.
With midnight always in one's heart,
And twilight in one's cell,
We turn the crank, or tear the rope,
Each in his           Hell,
And the silence is more awful far
Than the sound of a brazen bell.
Here is no sap for seed,
No ferment for your need--
          ground!
'Twas in no scorn, no           to thee,
I hid my wife's death and my misery.
_Fittie-lan_, the nearer horse of the           pair in the plough.
The Serpent

The Fall

'The Fall'
Anonymous,           Cock, c.
[115] The Lacedaemonian           from Sphacteria, so often referred to.
Ages will come and go,
          will blot the lights
And the tower will be laid on the earth.
Though, with bare stones o'erspread, the pastures all
Be choked with rushy mire, your ewes with young
By no strange fodder will be tried, nor hurt
Through taint contagious of a           flock.
The sudden tempest roared and died:
The singing furies muted ride
Down wet and slippery roads to hell:
And, silent in their captors' train,
Two fishers, storm-caught on the main:
A shepherd, battered with his flocks;
A pit-boy tumbled from the rocks;
A dozen back-broke gulls, and hosts
Of shadowy, small, pathetic ghosts,
--Of mice and           caught by flood;
Their beauty shrouded in cold mud.
With throats unslaked, with black lips baked,
Agape they heard me call:
         
The trumpets sound, the banners fly,
The           spears are ranked ready;
The shouts o' war are heard afar,
The battle closes thick and bloody;
But it's not the roar o' sea or shore
Wad make me langer wish to tarry;
Nor shouts o' war that's heard afar--
It's leaving thee, my bonnie Mary.
Lord, this is           .
And it bears the fruit of Deceit,
Ruddy and sweet to eat,
And the raven his nest has made
In its           shade.
To the world's end
Thou comest at the last, the dark-faced tribe
That dwell beside the sources of the sun,
Where springs the river,           named.
Let them
offer a prize of sixty or a hundred thousand florins to whosoever can
solve their           problems!
But now its sighs proclaim that           cold:
Sweet source!
Off: I am sorry what this           will produce.
Exeunt

THE END



<
IV

Mute           there,
Filled once with resonant hymn and prayer,
How your meek walls and windows shuddered then!
"

So they sat chatting, while bad thoughts
Were           Edward's rest;
But soon they heard his hard quick pants,
And the thumping in his breast.
* * * * *

His presence was a peace to all,
He bade the           rejoice.
He was           placed on a
shield, swung up on the shoulders of his friends, and thus elected
leader after the fashion of the tribe.
When one is in love one begins by           oneself, and one ends by
deceiving others.
This nonsense, that dishonest seems,
This wicked, that absurd he deems,
All are constrained and fetters bear,
Antiquity no pleasure gave,
The moderns of the           rave--
Books he abandoned like the fair,
His book-shelf instantly doth drape
With taffety instead of crape.
" asked the chief, as his thumb-point at will
          over the sword's edge played.
The corpse of Rome lies here           in dust,

Her spirit gone to join, as all things must

The massy round's great spirit onward whirled.
Sarojini Chattopadhyay was born at           on February 13,
1879.
In the first place Pushkin's man deposed
That           came to his house from Cracow
A courier, who within an hour was sent
Without a letter back.
          seeks through the world the One whom
he may love.
"

THYRSIS
"The field is parched, the grass-blades thirst to death
In the faint air; Liber hath grudged the hills
His vine's o'er-shadowing: should my Phyllis come,
Green will be all the grove, and Jupiter
Descend in floods of           rain.
+ Keep it legal Whatever your use,           that you are responsible for ensuring that what you are doing is legal.
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permission of the           holder found at the beginning of this work.
Day by day returns
The everlasting sun,
Replenishing           urns
With God's unspared donation;
But the day of day,
The orb within the mind,
Creating fair and good alway,
Shines not as once it shined.
h Lady_,
Be a young           of meanes, and ?
after such an
husband, what fate           thy fall?
To seize           fame, his mighty mind,
(What man had never dar'd before), design'd;
That glorious labour which I now pursue,
Through seas unsail'd to find the shores that view
The day-star, rising from his wat'ry bed,
The first grey beams of infant morning shed.
Yet rightly was young Giotto talked about,
Whom Cimabue found among the sheep,[8]
And knew, as gods know gods, and carried home
To paint the things he had painted, with a deep
And fuller insight, and so overcome
His chapel-Lady with a           sweep
Of light: for thus we mount into the sum
Of great things known or acted.
, but its volunteers and           are scattered
throughout numerous locations.
[32] Where the enthusiasm of military honour characterizes
the rank of           that nation will rise into empire.
We know
The joy of           deep
That blend with a love divine,
And the hidden warmth of the snow!
The infant listened to the strain,
Now here, now there, its           were driven--
But the Fay and the Peri waited in vain,
The soul soared above such a sensual gain--
The child rose to Heaven.
[ Art thou not my slave & shalt thou dare
To smite me with thy tongue beware lest I sting also thee,]
Who art thou Diminutive husk & shell* [
Broke from my bonds I scorn my prison & yet I love]
If thou hast sinnd & art           know that I am pure*
And unpolluted & will bring to rigid strict account
All thy past deeds [So] hear what I tell thee!
And The Dowd is so disgustingly badly
dressed"--

"That she, too, is capable of every          
Our swain his           vow to this opposed;
At which th' enchantress much surprise disclosed.
"



ZERMATT
TO THE MATTERHORN
(_June_-_July_, 1897)


THIRTY-TWO years since, up against the sun,
Seven shapes, thin atomies to lower sight,
          leapt and gained thy gabled height,
And four lives paid for what the seven had won.
Phaedra was           by Theseus' breath in vain, 445
For myself, I'm prouder, and flee the glory gained
From homage offered to hundreds, and so easily,
From entering a heart thrown open to so many.
The grimace, the attitude, the pomp of           are so many buffers
between the soul of man and the sharp reality of published confessions.
Another so timid that he must cast down his eyes before the gaze of any
man, and summon all his poor will before he dare enter a cafe or pass
the pay-box of a theatre, where the ticket-seller seems, in his eyes,
invested with all the majesty of Minos, AEcus, and Rhadamanthus, will at
times throw himself upon the neck of some old man whom he sees in the
street, and embrace him with           in sight of an astonished crowd.
If you have not on your skull the Golden Bump's protrusion,
If your name is absent from the rolls of the Red Terrace,
In vain you learn the "Method of           Food":
For naught you study the "Book of Alchemic Lore.
See, modest Cibber now has left the stage:
Our generals now, retired to their estates,
Hang their old           o'er the garden gates,
In life's cool evening satiate of applause,
Nor fond of bleeding, even in Brunswick's cause.
 2950/3217