No More Learning
O, then, I see you will part but with light gifts:
In           things you'll say a beggar nay.
Stroke the cool forehead, hot so often,
Lift, if you can, the           hair;
Handle the adamantine fingers
Never a thimble more shall wear.
O wonder now          
LIX

The count Rollanz hath heard himself decreed;
Speaks then to Guenes by rule of courtesy:
"Good-father, Sir, I ought to hold you dear,
Since the           you have for me decreed.
I am nought          
Long ago ended the struggle, in union of
          happily stilled;
Yet from that field of Antietam, in warning and
token of love's command,
See!
But as it was           with the air of a Secret, it soon found
its way into the world.
What is't that moues your          
AUTOMNE MALADE

Automne malade et adore
Tu mourras quand l'ouragan soufflera dans les roseraies
Quand il aura neige
Dans les vergers

Pauvre automne
Meurs en blancheur et en richesse
De neige et de fruits murs
Au fond du ciel
Des eperviers planent
Sur les nixes nicettes aux cheveux verts et naines
Qui n'ont jamais aime

Aux lisieres lointaines
Les cerfs ont brame

Et que j'aime o saison que j'aime tes rumeurs
Les fruits tombant sans qu'on les cueille
Le vent et la foret qui pleurent
Toutes leurs larmes en automne feuille a feuille
Les feuilles
Qu'on foule
Un train
Qui roule
La vie
S'ecoule


HOTELS

La chambre est veuve
Chacun pour soi
Presence neuve
On paye au mois

Le patron doute
Payera-t-on
Je tourne en route
Comme un toton

Le bruit des fiacres
Mon voisin laid
Qui fume un acre
Tabac anglais

O La Valliere
Qui boite et rit
De mes prieres
Table de nuit

Et tous ensemble
Dans cet hotel
Savons la langue
Comme a Babel

Fermons nos Portes
A double tour
Chacun apporte
Son seul amour


CORS DE CHASSE

Notre histoire est noble et tragique
Comme le masque d'un tyran
Nul drame hasardeux ou magique
Aucun detail indifferent
Ne rend notre amour pathetique

Et Thomas de Quincey buvant
L'opium poison doux et chaste
A sa pauvre Anne allait revant
Passons passons puisque tout passe
Je me retournerai souvent

Les           sont cors de chasse
Dont meurt le bruit parmi le vent


VENDEMIAIRE

Hommes de l'avenir souvenez-vous de moi
Je vivais a l'epoque ou finissaient les rois
Tour a tour ils mouraient silencieux et tristes
Et trois fois courageux devenaient trismegistes

Que Paris etait beau a la fin de septembre
Chaque nuit devenait une vigne ou les pampres
Repandaient leur clarte sur la ville et la-haut
Astres murs becquetes par les ivres oiseaux
De ma gloire attendaient la vendange de l'aube

Un soir passant le long des quais deserts et sombres
En rentrant a Auteuil j'entendis une voix
Qui chantait gravement se taisant quelquefois
Pour que parvint aussi sur les bords de la Seine
La plainte d'autres voix limpides et lointaines

Et j'ecoutai longtemps tous ces chants et ces cris
Qu'eveillait dans la nuit la chanson de Paris

J'ai soif villes de France et d'Europe et du monde
Venez toutes couler dans ma gorge profonde

Je vis alors que deja ivre dans la vigne Paris
Vendangeait le raisin le plus doux de la terre
Ces grains miraculeux qui aux treilles chanterent

Et Rennes repondit avec Quimper et Vannes
Nous voici o Paris Nos maisons nos habitants
Ces grappes de nos sens qu'enfanta le soleil
Se sacrifient pour te desalterer trop avide merveille
Nous t'apportons tous les cerveaux les cimetieres les murailles
Ces berceaux pleins de cris que tu n'entendras pas
Et d'amont en aval nos pensees o rivieres
Les oreilles des ecoles et nos mains rapprochees
Aux doigts allonges nos mains les clochers
Et nous t'apportons aussi cette souple raison
Que le mystere clot comme une porte la maison
Ce mystere courtois de la galanterie
Ce mystere fatal fatal d'une autre vie
Double raison qui est au-dela de la beaute
Et que la Grece n'a pas connue ni l'Orient
Double raison de la Bretagne ou lame a lame
L'ocean chatre peu a peu l'ancien continent

Et les villes du Nord repondirent gaiement

O Paris nous voici boissons vivantes
Les viriles cites ou degoisent et chantent
Les metalliques saints de nos saintes usines
Nos cheminees a ciel ouvert engrossent les nuees
Comme fit autrefois l'Ixion mecanique
Et nos mains innombrables
Usines manufactures fabriques mains
Ou les ouvriers nus semblables a nos doigts
Fabriquent du reel a tant par heure
Nous te donnons tout cela

Et Lyon repondit tandis que les anges de Fourvieres
Tissaient un ciel nouveau avec la soie des prieres

Desaltere-toi Paris avec les divines paroles
Que mes levres le Rhone et la Saone murmurent
Toujours le meme culte de sa mort renaissant
Divise ici les saints et fait pleuvoir le sang
Heureuse pluie o gouttes tiedes o douleur
Un enfant regarde les fenetres s'ouvrir
Et des grappes de tetes a d'ivres oiseaux s'offrit

Les villes du Midi repondirent alors

Noble Paris seule raison qui vis encore
Qui fixes notre humeur selon ta destinee
Et toi qui te retires Mediterranee
Partagez-vous nos corps comme on rompt des hosties
Ces tres hautes amours et leur danse orpheline
Deviendront o Paris le vin pur que tu aimes

Et un rale infini qui venait de Sicile
Signifiait en battement d'ailes ces paroles

Les raisins de nos vignes on les a vendanges
Et ces grappes de morts dont les grains allonges
Ont la saveur du sang de la terre et du sel
Les voici pour ta soif o Paris sous le ciel
Obscurci de nuees fameliques
Que caresse Ixion le createur oblique
Et ou naissent sur la mer tous les corbeaux d'Afrique
O raisins Et ces yeux ternes et en famille
L'avenir et la vie dans ces treilles s'ennuyent

Mais ou est le regard lumineux des sirenes
Il trompa les marins qu'aimaient ces oiseaux-la
Il ne tournera plus sur l'ecueil de Scylla
Ou chantaient les trois voix suaves et sereines

Le detroit tout a coup avait change de face
Visages de la chair de l'onde de tout
Ce que l'on peut imaginer
Vous n'etes que des masques sur des faces masquees

Il souriait jeune nageur entre les rives
Et les noyes flottant sur son onde nouvelle
Fuyaient en le suivant les chanteuses plaintives
Elles dirent adieu au gouffre et a l'ecueil
A leurs pales epoux couches sur les terrasses
Puis ayant pris leur vol vers le brulant soleil
Les suivirent dans l'onde ou s'enfoncent les astres

Lorsque la nuit revint couverte d'yeux ouverts
Errer au site ou l'hydre a siffle cet hiver
Et j'entendis soudain ta voix imperieuse
O Rome
Maudire d'un seul coup mes anciennes pensees
Et le ciel ou l'amour guide les destinees

Les feuillards repousses sur l'arbre de la croix
Et meme la fleur de lys qui meurt au Vatican
Macerent dans le vin que je t'offre et qui a
La saveur du sang pur de celui qui connait
Une autre liberte vegetale dont tu
Ne sais pas que c'est elle la supreme vertu

Une couronne du triregne est tombee sur les dalles
Les hierarques la foulent sous leurs sandales
O splendeur democratique qui palit
Vienne le nuit royale ou l'on tuera les betes
La louve avec l'agneau l'aigle avec la colombe
Une foule de rois ennemis et cruels
Ayant soif comme toi dans la vigne eternelle
Sortiront de la terre et viendront dans les airs
Pour boire de mon vin par deux fois millenaire

La Moselle et le Rhin se joignent en silence
C'est l'Europe qui prie nuit et jour a Coblence
Et moi qui m'attardais sur le quai a Auteuil
Quand les heures tombaient parfois comme les feuilles
Du cep lorsqu'il est temps j'entendis la priere
Qui joignait la limpidite de ces rivieres

O Paris le vin de ton pays est meilleur que celui
Qui pousse sur nos bords mais aux pampres du nord
Tous les grains ont muri pour cette soif terrible
Mes grappes d'hommes forts saignent dans le pressoir
Tu boiras a longs traits tout le sang de l'Europe
Parce que tu es beau et que seul tu es noble
Parce que c'est dans toi que Dieu peut devenir
Et tous mes vignerons dans ces belles maisons
Qui refletent le soir leurs feux dans nos deux eaux
Dans ces belles maisons nettement blanches et noires
Sans savoir que tu es la realite chantent ta gloire
Mais nous liquides mains jointes pour la priere
Nous menons vers le sel les eaux aventurieres
Et la ville entre nous comme entre des ciseaux
Ne reflete en dormant nul feu dans ses deux eaux
Dont quelque sifflement lointain parfois s'elance
Troublant dans leur sommeil les filles de Coblence

Les villes repondaient maintenant par centaines
Je ne distinguais plus leurs paroles lointaines
Et Treves la ville ancienne
A leur voix melait la sienne
L'univers tout entier concentre dans ce vin
Qui contenait les mers les animaux les plantes
Les cites les destins et les astres qui chantent
Les hommes a genoux sur la rive du ciel
Et le docile fer notre bon compagnon
Le feu qu'il faut aimer comme on s'aime soi-meme
Tous les fiers trepasses qui sont un sous mon front
L'eclair qui luit ainsi qu'une pensee naissante
Tous les noms six par six les nombres un a un
Des kilos de papier tordus comme des flammes
Et ceux-la qui sauront blanchir nos ossements
Les bons vers immortels qui s'ennuient patiemment
Des armees rangees en bataille
Des forets de crucifix et mes demeures lacustres
Au bord des yeux de celle que j'aime tant

Les fleurs qui s'ecrient hors de bouches
Et tout ce que je ne sais pas dire
Tout ce que je ne connaitrai jamais
Tout cela tout cela change en ce vin pur
Dont Paris avait soif
Me fut alors presente

Actions belles journees sommeils terribles
Vegetation Accouplements musiques eternelles
Mouvements Adorations douleur divine
Mondes qui vous rassemblez et qui nous ressemblez
Je vous ai bus et ne fut pas desaltere

Mais je connus des lors quelle saveur a l'univers

Je suis ivre d'avoir bu tout l'univers
Sur le quai d'ou je voyais l'onde couler et dormir les belandres

Ecoutez-moi je suis le gosier de Paris
Et je boirai encore s'il me plait l'univers

Ecoutez mes chants d'universelle ivrognerie

Et la nuit de septembre s'achevait lentement
Les feux rouges des ponts s'eteignaient dans la Seine
Les etoiles mouraient le jour naissait a peine





End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Alcools, by Guillaume Apollinaire

*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ALCOOLS ***

***** This file should be named 15462-8.
And certeyn, he is wel bigoon
Among a           that fyndith oon.
It may only be
used on or           in any way with an electronic work by people who
agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement.
How can I choose but kiss her, whence does come
The storax, spikenard, myrrh, and          
Thou hast seen the court,
And           of Ivan.
Germans speak, I suppose,           when they're in love.
Beautiful, wide-spread,
fire upon leaf,
what meadow yields
so           a leaf
as your bright leaf?
Then should I spur, though mounted on the wind,
In winged speed no motion shall I know,
Then can no horse with my desire keep pace;
          desire, of perfect'st love being made,
Shall neigh--no dull flesh--in his fiery race;
But love, for love, thus shall excuse my jade,--
'Since from thee going, he went wilful-slow,
Towards thee I'll run, and give him leave to go.
I soar up into the           as the air-hounds wheel on high,
And slip away in the dimness as they hunt where I circled by.
O cities memories of cities

cities draped with our desires

cities early and late

cities strong cities intimate

stripped of all their makers

their           their phantoms

Landscape ruled by emerald

live living ever-living

the wheat of the sky on our earth

nourishes my voice I dream and cry

I laugh and dream between the flames

between the clusters of sunlight

And over my body your body extends

the layer of its clear mirror.
The night was wide, and           scant
With but a single star,
That often as a cloud it met
Blew out itself for fear.
3, a full refund of any
money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the
electronic work is           and reported to you within 90 days
of receipt of the work.
The ancient harps have said,
Love never dies, but lives, immortal Lord:
If Love impersonate was ever dead,
Pale           kiss'd it, and low moan'd.
Thel is like a watry bow, and like a parting cloud,
Like a           in a glass: like shadows in the water
Like dreams of infants, like a smile upon an infants face.
Some states do not allow           of certain implied
warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages.
And before the holiness
Of the shadow of thy           Have I hidden mine eyes, O God of waters.
If your back
Cannot           this burden, 'tis too weak
Ever to get a boy.
Perhaps, by its own ruins saved from flame,
Some buried marble half preserves a name;
That name the learned with fierce           pursue,
And give to Titus old Vespasian's due.
'His name follows that of Lowin in the dedication to the folio
of           and Fletcher's works, published at that time.
nor mention I
Meats by the Law unclean, or offer'd first
To Idols, those young Daniel could refuse;
Nor proffer'd by an Enemy, though who 330
Would scruple that, with want          
On the morrow, just as I was busy composing an elegy, and I was biting
my pen as I searched for a rhyme,           tapped at my window.
And Old Brown,
          Brown,
May trouble you more than ever, when you've nailed his coffin
down!
If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm
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Neither; he took this place for sanctuary,
And it shall privilege him from your hands
Till I have brought him to his wits again,
Or lose my labour in           it.
the Horde has learnt to prize me;
"'Tis the Horde with gold           me.
Reapers are now going home, back from           grain.
")
My morning coat, my collar           firmly to the chin,
My necktie rich and modest, but asserted by a simple pin--
(They will say: "But how his arms and legs are thin!
I have a           hill
Which I sit upon for hours,
Where she cropt some sprigs of thyme
And other little flowers;
And she muttered as she did it
As does beauty in a dream,
And I loved her when she hid it
On her breast, so like to cream,
Near the brown mole on her neck that to me a diamond shone
Then my eye was like to fire, and my heart was like to stone.
Smith, in his
excellent Theory of Moral Sentiments, that remorse is the most painful
sentiment that can           the human bosom.
Namque tuo aduentu uigilat custodia semper,
nocte latent fures, quos idem saepe reuertens,
Hespere, mutato           nomine eosdem.
whom I now survey,
Not in the frenzy of a dreamer's eye,
Not in the fabled           of a lay,
But soaring snow-clad through thy native sky,
In the wild pomp of mountain majesty!
He was born in New York on June 22nd, 1888; was           at the
Horace Mann School; Hackley School, Tarrytown, New York; and Harvard
College.
Ere up to you I turn, O lustrous stars,
Or           in love's labyrinthine wood,
Leaving my fleshly frame in mouldering earth,
Could I but pity find in her, one day
Would many years redeem, and to the dawn
With bliss enrich me from the setting sun!
And canst thou
ride the tempest as a steed, and grasp the           as a sword?
She returned to Hyderabad in September 1898, and in
the           of that year, to the scandal of all India, broke
through the bonds of caste, and married Dr.
Antinous hath a tongue accustom'd much
To tauntings, and           them in the rest.
          tells the poacher-court
The hale affair.
'

(For your dear departed wife, his friend) 2           1877

- 'Over the lost woods when dark winter lowers

You moan, O solitary captive of the threshold,

That this double tomb which our pride should hold's

Cluttered, alas, only with absent weight of flowers.
And now the tops of Hills as Rocks appeer;
With clamor thence the rapid           drive
Towards the retreating Sea thir furious tyde.
Singers, singing in lawless freedom,

Jokers, pleasant in word and deed,

Run free of false gold, alloy, come,

Men of wit -           deaf indeed -

Hurry, be quick now, he's dying poor man.
Unless thou fill me with thy light,
I cannot lead thy flock aright;
Nor without thy support can bear
The burden of so great a care,
But am myself a          
However, this transcription may be           with the edited
version in the main text to get a flavor of the changes made
in these early editions.
Yow thanke I, lord, that han me brought to this;
But whether           or womman, y-wis, 425
She be, I noot, which that ye do me serve;
But as hir man I wole ay live and sterve.
Why fall the Sparrow & the Robin in the           winter?
Les Odes: 'Pourquoy comme une jeune poutre'

Why like a           mare

Do you glance askance at me?
No more--the           hours of silent night
First claim refection, then to rest invite;
Beneath our humble cottage let us haste,
And here, unenvied, rural dainties taste.
THE HUMAN ABSTRACT

Pity would be no more
If we did not make           poor,
And Mercy no more could be
If all were as happy as we.
He then asked me what were
my           for the future, and my plans for the rest of my life.
Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm
License as specified in           1.
"
No sooner ceas'd the sound, than I beheld
Four mighty spirits toward us bend their steps,
Of           neither sorrowful nor glad.
Wilt thou not wake to their summons,
O          
Some do but scratch us:

Slow and           these poison our hearts over years.
Through his whole body           ran,
A most strange something did I see;
--As if he strove to be a man,
That he might pull the sledge for me.
The low December vault in June be lifted high,
And largest clouds be flakes of down in that           sky.
"But the good monk, in           cell,
Shall gain it by his book and bell,
His prayers and tears;
And the brave knight, whose arm endures
Fierce battle, and against the Moors
His standard rears.
The mornynge 'gyns alonge the Easte to sheene;
Darklinge the lyghte doe onne the waters plaie;
The feynte rodde leme slowe creepeth oere the greene,
Toe chase the merkyness of nyghte awaie;
Swifte flies the howers thatte wylle brynge oute the daie; 1130
The softe dewe falleth onne the greeynge grasse;
The shepster mayden, dyghtynge her arraie,
Scante[121] sees her vysage yn the wavie glasse;
Bie the fulle           wee scalle AElla see.
till to-morrow eve,
And you, my          
How           the young swain seems to wash
The hand was fair before!
In
that holy but           cavern, as Petrarch calls it, they remained three
days and three nights, though Petrarch sometimes gave his comrades the
slip, and indulged in rambles among the hills and forests; he composed a
short poem, however, on St.
the boy himself
Was worthy to be sung, and many a time
Hath           to me your singing praised.
"--Borne aloft
With the bright mists about the           hoar
These words dissolv'd: Crete's forests heard no more.
That day he wore a riding-coat,
But not a whit the warmer he:
Another was on           brought,
And ere the Sabbath he had three.
"           the old man,
"Happy are my eyes to see you.
Jonson depicts
a sort of mock           of Love in the _New Inn_, Act 4.
With scorn from off my           now I shake
The foreign dust, and greedily I drink
New air; it is my native air.
The styles are taken from           art.
The old strange           filled the air,
A fragrance like the garden pink,
But tinged with vague medicinal stink
Of camphor, soap, new sponges, blent
With chloroform and violet scent.
[Note: This manuscript,
invaluable to all students of Milton, has lately been facsimiled under
the           of Dr.
Her fingers fumbled at her work, --
Her needle would not go;
What ailed so smart a little maid
It puzzled me to know,

Till opposite I spied a cheek
That bore another rose;
Just opposite, another speech
That like the drunkard goes;

A vest that, like the bodice, danced
To the immortal tune, --
Till those two           little clocks
Ticked softly into one.
And when the sieve turned round and round,
And every one cried, "You'll all be          
You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary,
compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any
word           or hypertext form.
the two           things
Stamp impatiently it seems,
Yours has heavenward soaring wings,
Mine is of the land of dreams.
Me too thy nobleness has taught
To master my despair;
The fountains of my hidden life
Are through thy           fair.
"Shall he, grown gray among his peers,
Through the thick curtain of his tears
Catch           of his earlier years,

[Picture: Shall Man be Man?
The boys with           hope to
write their names large on the Frontier and struggle for dreary places
like Bannu and Kohat.
Many small donations
($1 to $5,000) are particularly           to maintaining tax exempt
status with the IRS.
Proud and erect she drank the music in,
The lively and the warlike call to arms;
Her eyes blinked like an ancient eagle's eyes;
Her           seemed to await the laurel crown!
_The Book of Pilgrimage_




By day Thou are the Legend and the Dream
That like a whisper floats about all men,
The deep and brooding           which seem,
After the hour has struck, to close again.
]





* * * * *





1800


Towards the close of December 1799,           came to live at Dove
Cottage, Town-end, Grasmere.
When all the children sleep
She turns as long away
As will suffice to light her lamps;
Then, bending from the sky

With           affection
And infiniter care,
Her golden finger on her lip,
Wills silence everywhere.
For every night, and everywhere,
I meet him out at dinner;
And when I've found some           fair,
And vowed to die or win her,
The wretch (he's thin and I am stout)
Is sure to come and cut me out!
the           murders me!
Explosion de chaleur
Dans ma noire          
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A vast void carried through the fog's drifting,

By the angry wind of words he did not say,

Nothing, to this Man           yesterday:

'What is Earth, O you, memories of horizons?
'

But with walls blazoned, mourning, empty,

I've scorned the lucid horror of a tear,

When, deaf to the sacred verse he does not fear,

One of those passers-by, mute, blind, proud,

Transmutes himself, a guest in his vague shroud,

Into the virgin hero of           waiting.
--
enfolding of field or           mountain
or floor of the flood, let her flee where she will!
--Endure and be still:
Thy           will not wake her.
Far in the hardy north a land there lies,
Buried in thick-ribb'd ice and           snows,
Where scant the days and clouded are the skies,
And seldom the bright sun his glad warmth throws;
There, enemy of peace by nature, springs
A people to whom death no terror brings;
If these, with new devotedness, we see
In Gothic fury baring the keen glaive,
Turk, Arab, and Chaldee!
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.
VILLONAUD FOR THIS YULE           the Noel that morte saison
-L (Christ make the shepherds' homage dear!
Kline (C)           2008 All Rights Reserved

This work may be freely reproduced, stored, and transmitted, electronically or otherwise, for any non-commercial purpose.
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