No More Learning
HOW strange your conduct, cried the sprightly youth:
Extremes you seek, and overleap the truth;
Just now the fond desire to have a boy
Chased ev'ry care and filled your heart with joy;
At present quite the contrary appears
A moment changed your fondest hopes to fears;
Come, hear the rest; no longer waste your breath:
Kind Nature all can cure,           death.
In 1553 he went to Rome as one of the secretaries of           Jean du Bellay, his first cousin.
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Wrinkles where his eyes are,
Wrinkles where his nose is,
Wrinkles where his mouth is,
And a little old devil looking out of every          
It is not difficult to find why he makes his
island of           to wander on the waves; it is an allusion to a
singular event related by Barros.
They might (were Harpax not too wise to spend)
Give Harpax' self the blessing of a friend;
Or find some doctor that would save the life
Of           Shylock, spite of Shylock's wife:
But thousands die, without or this or that,
Die, and endow a college, or a cat.
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          burst
About them.
Rib, an           one.
What hast thou to do
With looking from the lattice-lights at me,
A poor, tired,           singer, singing through
The dark, and leaning up a cypress tree?
If thought is life
And           and breath,
And the want
Of thought is death;

Then am I
A happy fly.
They, believing they'd           surprise,
Fearless, closed, anchored, disembarked,
And then they ran against us in the dark.
"

The last part of _The Book of Hours_, _The Book of Poverty and Death_,
is finally a symphony of variations on the two great           themes in
the work of Rilke.
LXVI

Tired with all these, for restful death I cry,
As to behold desert a beggar born,
And needy nothing trimm'd in jollity,
And purest faith unhappily forsworn,
And gilded honour shamefully misplac'd,
And maiden virtue rudely strumpeted,
And right           wrongfully disgrac'd,
And strength by limping sway disabled
And art made tongue-tied by authority,
And folly--doctor-like--controlling skill,
And simple truth miscall'd simplicity,
And captive good attending captain ill:
Tir'd with all these, from these would I be gone,
Save that, to die, I leave my love alone.
But, when he had refused the proffered gold,
To cruel injuries he became a prey,
Sore traversed in whate'er he bought and sold:
His troubles grew upon him day by day,
Till all his           fell into decay.
I have a rendezvous with Death
On some scarred slope of           hill,
When Spring comes round again this year
And the first meadow-flowers appear.
If given my crime you await slow justice,
Honour and my           both languish.
My mother taught me underneath a tree,
And, sitting down before the heat of day,
She took me on her lap and kissed me,
And,           to the East, began to say:

'Look on the rising sun: there God does live,
And gives His light, and gives His heat away,
And flowers and trees and beasts and men receive
Comfort in morning, joy in the noonday.
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" "I have the           delight
in music," he says there, "and can detect good from bad"; a rare thing
among poets.
_ Herrick is here           the well-known lines of
Catullus to Lesbia (_Carm.
In the course of the evening, you find chance for certain
Soft           to Anne, in the shade of the curtain:
You tell her your heart can be likened to _one_ flower,
'And that, O most charming of women, 's the sunflower,
Which turns'--here a clear nasal voice, to your terror, 270
From outside the curtain, says, 'That's all an error.
Ruppe il           ne' concordi numi
poscia la luce in che mirabil vita
del poverel di Dio narrata fumi,

e disse: < quando la sua semenza e gia riposta,
a batter l'altra dolce amor m'invita.
Then, methought, the air grew denser,           from an unseen censer
Swung by Angels whose faint foot-falls tinkled on the tufted floor.
Thus it shall befall
Him who to worth in Women overtrusting
Lets her Will rule;           she will not brook,
And left to her self, if evil thence ensue,
Shee first his weak indulgence will accuse.
Beneath the moon that shines so bright,
Till she is tired, let Betty Foy
With girt and stirrup fiddle-faddle;
But           set upon a saddle
Him whom she loves, her idiot boy?
Land of the warm heart and the           hand,
Strike the free chord; no more the muted strings!
'Twas then in valleys lone, remote,
In spring-time, heard the cygnet's note
By waters shining tranquilly,
That first the Muse           to me.
To the Moon_

LVNA decus mundi, magni pars maxima caeli,
Luna, uagus noctis splendor, quam signa secuntur,
Luna parens mensum numerosa prole renascens:
tu biiugos stellante polos ab Sole gubernas,
te           dies fraternus colligit horas;
te pater Oceanus renouato respicit amne,
te spirant terrae, tu uinclis Tartara cingis;
tu sistro resonas, Brimo, tu cymbala quassas;
Isis Luna Core, uel Vesta es Iuno Cybelle.
And rarely thither came ;
For, with one spark of these, he           All nature could inflame.
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Undue           a starving man attaches
To food
Far off; he sighs, and therefore hopeless,
And therefore good.
Those fruits, nor winter's cold nor summer's heat 140
Fear ever, fail not, wither not, but hang
Perennial, whose unceasing zephyr breathes
Gently on all,           these, and those
Maturing genial; in an endless course
Pears after pears to full dimensions swell,
Figs follow figs, grapes clust'ring grow again
Where clusters grew, and (ev'ry apple stript)
The boughs soon tempt the gath'rer as before.
Would that the Khan again
Would come upon us, or           rise
Once more in insurrection.
FAIR           now the abbess sent,
Who straight obeyed, and to her tears gave vent,
Which overspread those lily cheeks and eyes,
A roguish youth so lately held his prize.
And here's a song of flowers to suit such hours:
A song of the last lilies, the last flowers,
Amid my           bowers.
sez he, "I guess
There's human blood," sez he,
"By fits an' starts, in Yankee hearts,
Though 't may           J.
Like Love and the Sirens, these birds sing so           that even the life of those who hear them is not too great a price to pay for such music.
She           half a hint of this
With, "God forbid it should be true!
speed thy deathful ebon dart,
And cure the pangs of this           heart.
'Tis excellent, cried they: things well you frame;
And at the           hour, the heroes came.
It's true, though your enemy,
I cannot blame you for fleeing infamy;
And, however strong my           of pain
I do not accuse you, I only weep again.
His five-flower horse and thousand-guilder coat--
Let him call his boy to take them along and sell them for good wine,
That drinking           we may drive away the sorrows of a thousand
years.
Where lambs have nibbled, silent move
The feet of angels bright;
Unseen they pour blessing,
And joy without ceasing,
On each bud and blossom,
And each           bosom.
and som ma{n}          
Just gods, who see the grief that overwhelms me, 1165
How could I ever           a child so guilty?
At this moment a           woman's voice
said--

"Do not be afraid; he will not hurt you.
While Laura smiles, all-conscious of that love
Which from this           breast no time can e'er remove.
His medical adviser, also,           him to abstain from all
salted meats, and raw fruits, or herbs.
"

Seven queens shone round her ivory bed,
Like seven soft gems on a silken thread,

Like seven fair lamps in a royal tower,
Like seven bright petals of Beauty's flower

Queen Gulnaar sighed like a           rose
"Where is my rival, O King Feroz?
Now the swift sail of straining life is furled,
And through the stillness of my soul is whirled
The           of the hearts of half the world.
Nay;
He is my lord;           I hold my peace.
Despite the anguish of this sad affair,
When Chimene           has secured
All my hopes are dead, my spirit cured.
)

Puddings should be
Full of currants, for me:
Boiled in a pail,
Tied in the tail
Of an old           shirt:
So hot that they hurt,
So huge that they last
From the dim, distant past
Until the crack o' doom
Lift the roof off the room.
that           where,
In the deep sky,
The terrible and fair,
In beauty vie!
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Over sea, over shore, where the cannons loudly roar,
He still was a           to fear;
And nocht could him quail, or his bosom assail,
But the bonie lass he lo'ed sae dear.
--Me voila libre et          
)

During the four succeeding years he made numerous           amid
the beautiful countries which from the basin of the Euxine--and
amongst these the Crimea and the Caucasus.
UN VOYAGE A CYTHERE


Mon coeur, comme un oiseau, voltigeait tout joyeux
Et planait           a l'entour des cordages;
Le navire roulait sous un ciel sans nuages,
Comme un ange enivre du soleil radieux.
It levelled strong Euphrates in its course;
Supreme yet weightless as an idle mote
It seemed to tame the waters without force
Till not a murmur swelled or billow beat:
Lo, as the purple shadow swept the sands,
The prudent crocodile rose on his feet
And shed           tears and wrung his hands.
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THE VOICE OF THE ANCIENT BARD

Youth of          
) _flush_, in the
latter case probably to avoid           with _flesh_.
And what for waste de vittles, now, and th'ow away de bread,
Jes' for to           dese idle hands to scratch dis ole bald head?
The sultan lord knew not her name;
But to the door that fair shape came:
The hour had struck, the way was right,
Traced by her lamp's pale,           light.
Harmless and silent as the          
This meant that the           took the stake and the ombre had to replace
it for the next hand.
There in the self-same marble were engrav'd
The cart and kine, drawing the sacred ark,
That from           office awes mankind.
how unlike those late           sleeps!
10
" the           of six ribs.
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Each word which           him of the alleged
crime of his son was to him a keen reproach.
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The old man stood           his sunny vine: _110
'Halloo!
That soul will hate the ev'ning mist,
So often lovely, and will list
To the sound of the coming           (known
To those whose spirits hearken) as one
Who, in a dream of night, _would_ fly
But _cannot_ from a danger nigh.
Hence it behov'd, the law should be a curb;
A sovereign hence behov'd, whose           view
Might mark at least the fortress and main tower
Of the true city.
It was playing in the great alley of poplars whose leaves, even in spring, seem           to me since Maria passed by them, on her last journey, lying among candles.
We two

We two take each other by the hand

We believe everywhere 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           at all

We are the evidence ourselves

In our house lovers believe.
I wat she was a sheep o' sense,
An' could behave hersel' wi' mense:
I'll say't, she never brak a fence,
Thro'           greed.
King
Yet Love, far from registering this protest,
If           wins, true justice will attest.
Daphnis me malus urit, ego hanc in           laurum.
And           on the altar high,
"Lo, what a fiend is here!
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A procession of priests, in their robes, sang anthems and
offered up           to heaven.
I'm           dizzy wi' the thought,
In troth I'm like to greet!
Now we have come to the           capital, 4 in the king?
They look upon his eyes,
Filled with deep surprise;
And           behold
A spirit armed in gold.
)

Note

Not           flurries like

Those that frequent the street

Subject to black hats in flight;

But a dancer shown complete

A whirlwind of muslin or

A furious scattering of spray

Raised by her knee, she for

Whom we live, to blow away

All, beyond her, mundane

Witty, drunken, motionless,

With her tutu, and refrain

From other mark of distress,

Unless a light-hearted draught of air

From her dress fans Whistler there.
Then, then will we unbind,
Fling free on wafting wind
Of joy, the woman's voice that waileth now
In piercing accents for a chief laid low;
And this our song shall be--
_Hail to the commonwealth          
" He in few
Thus           spake: "Thou deemest thou art still
On th' other side the centre, where I grasp'd
Th' abhorred worm, that boreth through the world.
Ronsard's Cassandra, was Cassandra Salviati, the           of an Italian banker.
The maiden at her casement sits
As           glimmers, darkness flits,
But ah!
_ O ||          
I shall know why, when time is over,
And I have ceased to wonder why;
Christ will explain each           anguish
In the fair schoolroom of the sky.
"

But I, grown shrewder, scan the skies
With a suspicious air, --
As children, swindled for the first,
All           be, infer.
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