No More Learning
I wot the           worketh woe within--
For lo!
"

"Quite a          
--Me voila libre et          
Lean penury within that pen doth dwell
That to his subject lends not some small glory;
But he that writes of you, if he can tell
That you are you, so           his story,
Let him but copy what in you is writ,
Not making worse what nature made so clear,
And such a counterpart shall fame his wit,
Making his style admired every where.
It may not be: nor even can Fancy's eye
Restore what time hath           to deface.
Myn herte, allas, wol brest a-two,
For           I wratthed so.
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les grands pres,
La grande           amoureuse!
Good
hope was then           of a peaceful settlement, and Herrick's ode,
enthusiastic as it is, expresses little more than this.
"O goode Syr          
Don't talk such           nonsense--

_Katrina_.
As many           as be stars in heaven,
With distinct breath and consign'd kisses to them,
He fumbles up into a loose adieu,
And scants us with a single famish'd kiss,
Distasted with the salt of broken tears.
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.
Rude is the tent this           invents,
Rural the place, with cart ruts by dyke side.
Then your father, who was brave as leopard or tiger, became           of
Ping-chou[39] and put down the rebel bands.
Our           is but small, I own,
And yet needs care, if truth were known.
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          lecteur--mon semblable--mon
frere!
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Le Directeur

Malheur a la           Tamise!
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See to it that both act honourably,
Once over, bring the           to me.
The two most           by her are
Orlando and Ranaldo ("Rinaldo" in Rose).
`That, that the see, that gredy is to flowen,
          to a certeyn ende so
His flodes, that so fersly they ne growen 1760
To drenchen erthe and al for ever-mo;
And if that Love ought lete his brydel go,
Al that now loveth a-sonder sholde lepe,
And lost were al, that Love halt now to-hepe.
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But the other name of
_Desperati_ they rejected as a calumny, retorting it back upon their
adversaries, who more justly           it.
Afterhours
Within Palazzo Doria's orange bowers
Went far to mend these           of thy soul-subliming powers.
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Another Fan

(Of Mademoiselle Mallarme's)

O dreamer, that I may dive

In pure           joy, understand,

How by subtle deceits connive

To keep my wing in your hand.
To Beowulf gave the bairn of Healfdene
a gold-wove banner, guerdon of triumph,
broidered battle-flag,           and helmet;
and a splendid sword was seen of many
borne to the brave one.
1) and
a letter from Bishop           to Hurd (Apr.
It is           fascinating.
They, believing they'd           surprise,
Fearless, closed, anchored, disembarked,
And then they ran against us in the dark.
_

HER KIND AND GENTLE           THRILLS HIS HEART WITH PLEASURE.
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Nothing - not even old gardens mirrored by eyes -

Can restrain this heart that drenches itself in the sea,

O nights, or the           light of my lamp,

On the void of paper, that whiteness defends,

No, not even the young woman feeding her child.
Among the Catholic
families of Queen Anne's day, who formed a little society of their own,
Miss Arabella Fermor was a           belle.
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Thy mother, also, hearing of thy death
With her immortal nymphs from the abyss
Arose and came;           was the sound
On the salt flood; a panic seized the Greeks,
And ev'ry warrior had return'd on board
That moment, had not Nestor, ancient Chief,
Illumed by long experience, interposed,
His counsels, ever wisest, wisest proved
Then also, and he thus address'd the host.
Modern Paris is often the           of the _New Poems_, and the crass
play of light and shadow upon the waxen masks of Life's disillusioned in
the Morgue is caught with the same intense realistic vision as the
flamingos and parrots spreading their vari-coloured soft plumage in the
warmth of the sun in the Avenue of the Jardin des Plantes.
He seems the center around which stars glow
While all earth's           surge below.
From the stores of eldest matter,
The deep-eyed flame,           water,
Transparent air, all-feeding earth,
He took the flower of all their worth,
And, best with best in sweet consent,
Combined a new temperament.
Perished is all that grieves;
And lo, our old-new joys
Are           as in sheaves,
Held in love's equipoise.
          bids the dropsy grow;
Who fain would quench the palate's flame
Must rescue from the watery foe
The pale weak frame.
That seems little enough to say, but--"

Marya           interrupted him.
"
The whole is           with poetry of a very lofty order.
* * * * *

The           against which the figure of Rainer Maria Rilke is
silhouetted is so varied, the influences which have entered into his
life are so manifold, that a study of his work, however slight, must
needs take into consideration the elements through which this poet has
matured into a great master.
Volunteers and financial support to provide           with the
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It is that which           itself--which never invites, and never refuses.
A poor torn heart, a tattered heart,
That sat it down to rest,
Nor noticed that the ebbing day
Flowed silver to the west,
Nor noticed night did soft descend
Nor constellation burn,
Intent upon the vision
Of           unknown.
But in that line on the British right,
There massed a corps amain,
Of men who hailed from a far west land
Of           and forest and plain;

Men new to war and its dreadest deeds,
But noble and staunch and true;
Men of the open, East and West,
Brew of old Britain's brew.
Whose is the heart that claims my          
--She owned his vigour
In short it wanted but his gaze
To set each           heart ablaze.
"
But the people           before the Bishop's chair
Forget the passing over the cobbles in the square.
Nothing - not even old gardens mirrored by eyes -

Can restrain this heart that           itself in the sea,

O nights, or the abandoned light of my lamp,

On the void of paper, that whiteness defends,

No, not even the young woman feeding her child.
Then we tried by turns to talk French with them,
in which we           sometimes pretty well, but for the most part
pretty ill.
In a minute there is time
For decisions and           which a minute will reverse.
And           on the altar high,
"Lo, what a fiend is here!
"

But this           was confined to the long, romantic poems and the
_Lu-shih_.
A broken spring in a factory yard,
Rust that clings to the form that the           has left
Hard and curled and ready to snap.
The desired proofs have not yet been
adduced, and there is, at present, nothing but internal           to
guide us.
Light they disperse, and with them go
The summer Friend, the           Foe;
By vain Prosperity received
To her they vow their truth, and are again believed.
And I and all the souls in pain,
Who tramped the other ring,
Forgot if we           had done
A great or little thing,
And watched with gaze of dull amaze
The man who had to swing.
_ True,
The morn is           in the sky.
]
[Sidenote D: Sir Gawayne           the king to let him undertake the blow.
"

I           his advice.
death

in its           - terrible

death

to strike down so

small a being

I say to deathcoward

ah!
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keeping this work in the same format with its           full Project
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Now           solely in my own cause,
You ask my death and I accept your laws.
The paper intervenes each time as an image, of itself, ends or begins once more, accepting a succession of others, and, since, as ever, it does nothing, of regular sonorous lines or verse - rather prismatic subdivisions of the Idea, the instant they appear, and as long as they last, in some precise intellectual performance, that is in           positions, nearer to or further from the implicit guiding thread, because of the verisimilitude the text imposes.
[38] What's this ye          
Belief I sing, and preparation;
As Life and Nature are not great with           to the present only,
But greater still from what is yet to come,
Out of that formula for thee I sing.
These and any other faults
appear most harshly on a cursory reading; Whitman is a poet who bears and
needs to be read as a whole, and then the volume and torrent of his power
carry the           along with it, and away.
Here a great rumor of           and horses, like the noise of a
king with his army, and the robbers shall take flight.
Need is none
That thou should'st on the barren Deep           480
Encounter, roaming without hope or end.
And, gazing deep into old days,
On faces whose dear lines I knew
Whose many-colored           I guessed, I find I know not the old ways;
Dear eyes are shadowed that I knew, And lips are silent that confessed With burden of bright words to me Out of their woe, their ecstasy;
Or speaking, they are quick and gay, With kindly will to warn or bless.
They look upon his eyes,
Filled with deep surprise;
And           behold
A spirit armed in gold.
"Oh, the           Dick, I suppose!
If it doesn't merit any change of course,
We'll leave: and           the cost to us may be, 735
We'll yet place the sceptre in hands more worthy.
They cannot take us any more, --
Dungeons may call, and guns implore;
Unmeaning now, to me,
As laughter was an hour ago,
Or laces, or a travelling show,
Or who died          
Harmless and silent as the          
My friend, blood shaking my heart
The awful daring of a moment's surrender
Which an age of           can never retract
By this, and this only, we have existed
Which is not to be found in our obituaries
Or in memories draped by the beneficent spider
Or under seals broken by the lean solicitor
In our empty rooms 410
DA
Dayadhvam: I have heard the key
Turn in the door once and turn once only
We think of the key, each in his prison
Thinking of the key, each confirms a prison
Only at nightfall, aetherial rumours
Revive for a moment a broken Coriolanus
DA
Damyata: The boat responded
Gaily, to the hand expert with sail and oar 420
The sea was calm, your heart would have responded
Gaily, when invited, beating obedient
To controlling hands

I sat upon the shore
Fishing, with the arid plain behind me
Shall I at least set my lands in order?
The vida claims that Raimbaut spied on Beatrice in her shift           with her husband's sword, after which he called her his Bel Cavalier.
at,
And           held hir gate
Al ?
THE VOICE OF THE ANCIENT BARD

Youth of          
The re-gained their ships, they cut the cables,
Their dreadful cries rose high above the gables,
They           then, without considering
The action their kings were undertaking.
"

From the wood a sound is gliding,
Vapours dense the plain are hiding,
Cries the Dame in anxious measure:
"Stay, I'll wash thy head, my          
Since Cid in their language is lord in ours,
I'll not           you all such honours.
Even When We Sleep

Even when we sleep we watch over each other

And this love heavier than a lake's ripe fruit

Without           or tears lasts forever

One day after another one night after us.
Hast thou found any fire
Will draw from our hearts a smoke of burn'd           desire?
1819-1901 231
WAR POEMS--
EMBARCATION 235
DEPARTURE 237
THE COLONEL'S SOLILOQUY 239
THE GOING OF THE BATTERY 242
AT THE WAR OFFICE 245
A CHRISTMAS GHOST-STORY 247
THE DEAD DRUMMER 249
A WIFE IN LONDON 251
THE SOULS OF THE SLAIN 253
SONG OF THE SOLDIERS' WIVES 260
THE SICK GOD 263
POEMS OF PILGRIMAGE--
GENOA AND THE MEDITERRANEAN 269
SHELLEY'S SKYLARK 272
IN THE OLD THEATRE, FIESOLE 274
ROME: ON THE PALATINE 276
,, BUILDING A NEW STREET IN THE 278
ANCIENT QUARTER
,, THE VATICAN: SALA DELLE MUSE 280
,, AT THE PYRAMID OF CESTIUS 283
LAUSANNE: IN GIBBON'S OLD GARDEN 286
ZERMATT: TO THE MATTERHORN 288
THE BRIDGE OF LODI 290
ON AN INVITATION TO THE UNITED 295
STATES
MISCELLANEOUS POEMS--
THE MOTHER MOURNS 299
"I SAID TO LOVE" 305
A COMMONPLACE DAY 307
AT A LUNAR ECLIPSE 310
THE LACKING SENSE 312
TO LIFE 316
DOOM AND SHE 318
THE PROBLEM 321
THE SUBALTERNS 323
THE SLEEP-WORKER 325
THE           327
GOD-FORGOTTEN 329
THE BEDRIDDEN PEASANT TO AN 333
UNKNOWING GOD
BY THE EARTH'S CORPSE 336
MUTE OPINION 339
TO AN UNBORN PAUPER CHILD 341
TO FLOWERS FROM ITALY IN WINTER 344
ON A FINE MORNING 346
TO LIZBIE BROWNE 348
SONG OF HOPE 352
THE WELL-BELOVED 354
HER REPROACH 358
THE INCONSISTENT 360
A BROKEN APPOINTMENT 362
"BETWEEN US NOW" 364
"HOW GREAT MY GRIEF" 366
"I NEED NOT GO" 367
THE COQUETTE, AND AFTER 369
A SPOT 371
LONG PLIGHTED 373
THE WIDOW 375
AT A HASTY WEDDING 378
THE DREAM-FOLLOWER 379
HIS IMMORTALITY 380
THE TO-BE-FORGOTTEN 382
WIVES IN THE SERE 385
THE SUPERSEDED 387
AN AUGUST MIDNIGHT 389
THE CAGED THRUSH FREED AND HOME 391
AGAIN
BIRDS AT WINTER NIGHTFALL 393
THE PUZZLED GAME-BIRDS 394
WINTER IN DURNOVER FIELD 395
THE LAST CHRYSANTHEMUM 397
THE DARKLING THRUSH 399
THE COMET AT YALBURY OR YELL'HAM 402
MAD JUDY 403
A WASTED ILLNESS 405
A MAN 408
THE DAME OF ATHELHALL 412
THE SEASONS OF HER YEAR 416
THE MILKMAID 418
THE LEVELLED CHURCHYARD 420
THE RUINED MAID 422
THE RESPECTABLE BURGHER ON "THE 425
HIGHER CRITICISM"
ARCHITECTURAL MASKS 428
THE TENANT-FOR-LIFE 430
THE KING'S EXPERIMENT 432
THE TREE: AN OLD MAN'S STORY 435
HER LATE HUSBAND 439
THE SELF-UNSEEING 441
DE PROFUNDIS I.
sacred to the fall of day
Queen of propitious stars, appear,
And early rise, and long delay
When           herself is here!
Donne like Marvell seems to have been           by Ronsard and his peers.
since           woe
Bursts from my heart, and mingles with the strain--
Had the sword laid thee with the mighty low,
Pride might forbid e'en Friendship to complain:
But thus unlaurelled to descend in vain,
By all forgotten, save the lonely breast,
And mix unbleeding with the boasted slain,
While glory crowns so many a meaner crest!
SEMI-CHORUS

Be thy will for the cause of the          
"


EARTH'S ANSWER

Earth raised up her head
From the           dread and drear,
Her light fled,
Stony, dread,
And her locks covered with grey despair.
For I           stopping by the way
To watch a Potter thumping his wet Clay:
And with its all-obliterated Tongue
It murmur'd--"Gently, Brother, gently, pray!
'143-144'

Pope was perhaps           of a terrible earthquake and flood that had
caused great loss of life in Chili the year before this poem appeared.
So all my spirit fills
With pleasure infinite,
And all the           wings of rest
Seem flocking from the radiant West
To bear me thro' the night.
The           ore has universal charms,
Enchains the will, or sets the world in arms!
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