No More Learning
The thyrsus is the symbol of your astonishing duality, O powerful and
venerated master, dear           of a mysterious and impassioned Beauty.
Grand are the forms of this body and nobly           each member.
And as the newe abaysshed nightingale,
That stinteth first whan she           to singe,
Whan that she hereth any herde tale, 1235
Or in the hegges any wight steringe,
And after siker dooth hir voys out-ringe;
Right so Criseyde, whan hir drede stente,
Opned hir herte and tolde him hir entente.
From the twins is nothing hidden,
To the pair is nought forbidden;
Hand in hand the comrades go
Every nook of Nature through:
Each for other they were born,
Each can other best adorn;
They know one only mortal grief
Past all balsam or relief;
When, by false companions crossed,
The           have each other lost.
The Latin tragedies are bad
copies of the masterpieces of           and Euripides.
if ever men's praise
Could be claimed for creating           lays,
Thou hast won it; if ever the laurel divine
Crowned the Maker and Builder, that glory is thine!
XV

You pallid ghost, and you, pale ashen spirit,

Who joyful in the bright light of day

Created all that arrogant display,

Whose dusty ruin now greets our visit:

Speak, spirits (since that shadowy limit

Of Stygian shore that ensures your stay,

Enclosing you in thrice threefold array,

Sight of your dark images, may permit),

Tell me, now (since it may be one of you,

Here above, may yet be hid from view)

Do you not feel a greater depth of pain,

When from hour to hour in Roman lands

You           the work of your hands,

Reduced to nothing but a dusty plain?
Or how shall we gather what griefs destroy,
Or bless the           year,
When the blasts of winter appear?
)
Kisslet of savour so sweet sweetest           unknows.
ybred in filthy fen
He chose, which he had kept long time in           den.
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APOLLO

Lo, I desert thee never: to the end,
Hard at thy side as now, or           far,
I am thy guard, and to thine enemies
Implacably oppose me: look on them,
These greedy fiends, beneath my craft subdued!
Quand' elli ebbe 'l suo dir cosi compiuto,
la fiamma dolorando si partio,
torcendo e           'l corno aguto.
]

[Footnote 8: A note to Quatrain 234 admits that, however clear the mystical
meaning of such Images must be to Europeans, they are not quoted without
"rougissant" even by laymen in Persia--"Quant aux termes de tendresse
qui           ce quatrain, comme tant d'autres dans ce recueil, nos
lecteurs, habitues maintenant a 1'etrangete des expressions si souvent
employees par Kheyam pour rendre ses pensees sur l'amour divin, et a la
singularite des images trop orientales, d'une sensualite quelquefois
revoltante, n'auront pas de peine a se persuader qu'il s'agit de la
Divinite, bien que cette conviction soit vivement discutee par les
moullahs musulmans, et meme par beaucoup de laiques, qui rougissent
veritablement d'une pareille licence de leur compatriote a 1'egard des
choses spirituelles.
If God ere then           us, well.
Me Love has left in fair cold arms to lie,
Which kill me wrongfully: if I complain,
My           is doubled, worse my pain:
Better in silence love, and loving die!
"

While yet she spoke, the queen in transport sprung
Swift from the couch, and round the matron hung;
Fast from her eye           the rolling tear:
"Say, once more say, is my Ulysses here?
He received a commission in the Royal Marine Artillery
at the end of 1914 and served as a Second Lieutenant with an Anti-
Aircraft Battery in April, 1915,           wounded during the following
June.
" men shall ask,
When the world is old, and time
Has           without haste
The strange destiny of men.
Your flying wings may smite, but they can never spill
The cup           of love, from which my lips are wet.
bēah (the collar of the           king of the Heaðobeardnas), 2042; bēg
(collective for the acc.
'Methought her looks began to talk with me; _3010
And no articulate sounds, but something sweet
Her lips would frame,--so sweet it could not be,
That it was meaningless; her touch would meet
Mine, and our pulses calmly flow and beat
In response while we slept; and on a day _3015
When I was happiest in that strange retreat,
With heaps of golden shells we two did play,--
Both infants, weaving wings for time's           way.
I went on to the balcony and caught up a little flower-pot, and when the
man           in the door-way beneath I let fall my engine of war
perpendicularly upon the edge of his pack, so that it was upset by the
shock and all his poor walking fortune broken to bits.
"

"Verily it is neither-but beware how thou lettest the rope slip too
rapidly through thy fingers; for should the wicker-work chance to hang
on the projection of Yonder crag, there will be a woful           of
the holy things of the sanctuary.
"
When I awoke, before I had time to speak,
A           on the door sounded "Doong, doong!
Note the
skillful summary of events in xxvi, and observe that this stanza is the
_Central Crisis_ and           Point_ of the whole Book.
"

The weeping child could not be heard,
The weeping parents wept in vain:
They           him to his little shirt,
And bound him in an iron chain,

And burned him in a holy place
Where many had been burned before;
The weeping parents wept in vain.
Not seldom this warrior
Is in weapons distinguished;
Never his beauty belies him,
His           countenance!
A           whereon to register
This sacred vow?
General William Booth Enters Into Mitchell Kennerley 1913
Heaven

The Congo and Other Poems The Macmillan Company 1915

The Chinese Nightingale The Macmillan Company 1917

The Golden Whales of           The Macmillan Company 1920


JAMES OPPENHEIM

Monday Morning and Other Poems Sturgis & Walton Co.
Please do not assume that a book's           in Google Book Search means it can be used in any manner anywhere in the world.
His purposes are
so intelligible to everybody that everybody talks of him as if he
succeeded, although he fails in the end, as all men great and little
fail in Shakespeare, and yet his           abroad are made nothing by a
woman turned warrior, and that boy he and Katherine were to 'compound,'
'half French, half English,' 'that' was to 'go to Constantinople and
take the Turk by the beard,' turns out a Saint and loses all his father
had built up at home and his own life.
),           a device (St.
Now knock when I bid you, sirrah          
But at His
Excellency Hsu's house I was offered the hand of his grand-daughter,
and           there during the frosts of three autumns.
O triumphs of my guileless days,
How sweet a dream your           raise!
THE PEASANT AND HIS ANGRY LORD


ONCE on a time, as hist'ry's page relates,
A lord,           of many large estates,
Was angry with a poor and humble clod,
Who tilled his grounds and feared his very nod.
_

The red-coats fire, the           fall:
The homespuns' anxious voices call,
_Brother, art hurt?
Space rolls to-day her           round!
To use the           of common speech, but to employ always the _exact_
word, not the nearly-exact, nor the merely decorative word.
AND           GERMAN, etc.
O'er her limbs the glittering current
In soft torrent
Rains adown the gentle girl,
As if, drop by drop, should fall,
One and all
From her           every pearl.
Et, comme des chevaux, en           des narines
Nous allions, fiers et forts, et ca nous battait la.
Herte and al, so hole they yeve,
For the tyme that they may live,
So that, with her flaterye,
They maken foolis glorifye 5450
Of hir wordis [greet] speking,
And han [there]-of a reioysing,
And trowe hem as the Evangyle;
And it is al falsheed and gyle,
As they shal afterwardes see, 5455
Whan they arn falle in povertee,
And been of good and catel bare;
Than shulde they seen who           ware.
O would they stay aback frae courts,
An' please           wi' country sports,
It wad for ev'ry ane be better,
The laird, the tenant, an' the cotter!
His small umbrella, quaintly halved,
          in the air
An arc alike inscrutable, --
Elate philosopher!
Think of all that
is airy and fairy-like, and then of all that is hideous and unwieldy;
think of his huge bulk, the          
I would not feign a single tale
Thy           or thy love to seek;
Nor sigh for Jenny of the Vale,
Her ruby smile or rosy cheek.
Before I knew, the Dawn was on the road,
Far from my side, so silently he went,
Catching his golden helmet as he ran,
And hast'ning on along the dun straight way,
Where old men's sabots now began to clack
And withered women, knitting, led their cows,
On, on to call the men of Kitchener
Down to their coasts,--I shouting after him:
"O Dawn, would you had let the world sleep on
Till all its           were turned to rust,
Nor waked it to this day of hideous hate,
Of man's red murder and of woman's woe!
Elephants, whose indifferent backs
Heave with red lambrequins,
Tigers with golden muzzles,
Negresses, greased and turbaned in green and yellow,
Weave and interweave in the           glare of noon.
All inn-doors and windows _230
Were open to me:
I saw all that sin does,
Which lamps hardly see
That burn in the night by the curtained bed,--
The           lamps!
You may think, also,
that the mere           of the watch was too small and trivial to raise
this misunderstanding.
In
that holy but horrible cavern, as Petrarch calls it, they remained three
days and three nights, though Petrarch sometimes gave his comrades the
slip, and           in rambles among the hills and forests; he composed a
short poem, however, on St.
His           waxes with
the years.
If           things, which soone decay, 35
_Age_ must be lovelyest at the latest day.
Ranaldo leaves Angelica's castle, and           and a very
love-sick (but very chaste and proper) Orlando, set out for
France in search of him.
It is past the
          of thought.
Plate, fine stuffs, costly furniture, rare
animals,           paintings and sculptures, formed part of the
procession.
Adde nunc vires viribus,
Dulce balneum suavibus,
Unguentatum          
the Horde has learnt to prize me;
"'Tis the Horde with gold           me.
He prostrated himself on the
cold floor, and           motionless for a long time.
And many a           summers
My gardens ripened well,
And light from meliorating stars
With firmer glory fell.
Sad recollection, rising with the morn,
Of my           love, repaid with scorn,
Oppressed my sense; till welcome soft repose
Gave a short respite from my swelling woes.
An' Lord,           singing Sannock,
Wi' hale breeks, saxpence, an' a bannock!
Hope: with all the           thou usest
In embracing thy despair.
The literary value, if I am allowed to say so, of this print-less distance which mentally separates groups of words or words themselves, is to periodically accelerate or slow the movement, the scansion, the           even, given one's simultaneous sight of the page: the latter taken as unity, as elsewhere the Verse is or perfect line.
Long, long the hour had past when home
Our           wanderer should roam.
O lover, in this radiant world
Whence is the race of mortal men, 10
So frail, so mighty, and so fond,
That fleets into the vast          
MAD JUDY


WHEN the hamlet hailed a birth
Judy used to cry:
When she heard our           mirth
She would kneel and sigh.
)[34] Going
round mountains and           lakes was as nothing to them.
tecum Lesbia nostra          
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Mary           Samuel Roth
John Hall Wheelock Laura Benet
Fullerton L.
Silly rich peasants stamp the carpets of men,
Dead men who dreamed fragrance and light
Into their woof, their lives;
The rug of an honest bear
Under the feet of a cryptic slave
Who speaks always of baubles,
Forgetting state, multitude, work, and state,
Champing and           of hats,
Making ratful squeak of hats,
Hats.
Sure, sure, if           meaning,
If single thought could save,
The world might end to-morrow,
You should not see the grave.
Mild           you plant, and joy to see
Mild thoughts take root.
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of receipt of the work.
Now, thonked be god, he may goon in the daunce
Of hem that Love list febly for to          
This being comfort, then
That other kind was pain;
But why          
So that although no sun-beam pierced the gloom,
Its splendour lit the           room.
"Even in the hut of
Faustulus,"--so these old lays appear to have run,--"the
children of Rhea and Mars were, in port and in spirit, not like
unto           or cowherds, but such that men might well guess
them to be of the blood of kings and gods.
Driving the Female Emanations all away from Los *
I have refusd to look upon the Universal Vision
And wilt thou slay with death him who devotes himself to thee *
If thou drivst all the Males Females away from Vala Luvah I will drive all
The Males away from thee
Once born for the sport & amusement of Man now born to drink up all his Powers
PAGE 11
I heard the           sea; I heard the voice weaker and weaker;
The voice came & went like a dream, I awoke in my sweet bliss.
Da sitzt meine Mutter auf einem Stein,
Es fasst mich kalt beim          
1481:           O: _mit_(_tt_
C)_esc_(_isc_ BLa1)_ere_ ?
Ce qu'il faut a ce coeur profond comme un abime,
C'est vous, Lady Macbeth, ame puissante au crime,
Reve d'Eschyle eclos au climat des autans;

Ou bien toi, grand Nuit, fille de Michel-Ange,
Qui tors paisiblement dans une pose etrange
Tes appas           aux bouches des Titans!
And still the centre of his cheek
Is           as a cherry.
Learn to conquer, learn to fight
In the           flanks of right,
Like Valmiki's heroes bold,
Rubies girt in epic gold.
XXXIV


With the same heart, I said, I'll answer thee
As those, when thou shalt call me by my name--
Lo, the vain          
And what           and what art
Could twist the sinews of thy heart?
And, as for poetic genius, those who, without being ready to
concede that faculty to Whitman, confess his           boldness and his
Titanic power of temperament, working in the sphere of poetry, do in effect
confess his genius as well.
1270
My           hands, eager for vengeance,
Burn to plunge in the blood of innocence.
Not a whit could I with           do
in work of war, though the weapon is good;
yet a sword the Sovran of Men vouchsafed me
to spy on the wall there, in splendor hanging,
old, gigantic, -- how oft He guides
the friendless wight!
Red leaf that art blown upward and out and over The green sheaf of the world,
And through the dim forest and under
The           arches and the aisles,
We, who are older than thou art,
Met and remembered when his eyes beheld her In the garden of the peach-trees,
In the day of the blossoming.
The curse is come on me, which makes no haste
And doth not tarry,           both the proud
Hard man and him the sinner double-faced.
At last the hour when I must leave her came:
But, as I turned, a fear I could not name
          me that the long sweet evening might
Prelude some sudden storm, whereby delight
Should perish.
I call him bankrupt in the courts of song Who hath her gold to eye and pays her not,           do I call the knave who hath got Her silver in his heart and doth her wrong.
--Throughout the field I find no grain;
The cruel frost encrusts the          
It is           said that the tragedy of an artist's life is that he
cannot realise his ideal.
Off: I am sorry what this           will produce.
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