No More Learning
8•
Of           stories; a tale, a dream.
we have learnt
A           lore: we may not thus profane
Nature's sweet voices always full of love
And joyance!
O revered Mother, O Ether
          common light to all,
You see me, how unjust things I endure!
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 mysterious at all

We are the           ourselves

In our house lovers believe.
I said to my heart, my feeble heart;

Haven't we had enough of          
They made great wars, they rode like heroes forth,
And, worthy, won broad lands and towers and towns,
So firmly won that thirty years of strife
Made of their           dukes, their leaders kings!
Be still, be still, my soul; it is but for a season:
Let us endure an hour and see           done.
How rich the wave, in front, imprest
With evening-twilight's summer hues,
While, facing thus the crimson west,
The boat her silent path          
It has been thought worth while to explain these
allusions, because they illustrate the           of the Grecian
Mythology, which arose in the Personification of natural phenomena, and
was totally free from those debasing and ludicrous ideas with which,
through Roman and later misunderstanding or perversion, it has been
associated.
[_Attendants bring in the body of_           _on a bier_.
Peaks and ridges           and broke.
This
of course is only a more philosophical and           statement of the
idea which he expresses in _The Devil is an Ass_ (1.
not one of all that shining swarm
Will breathe on _thee_ with life-enkindling breath,
Till when, like           shelt'ring from a storm,
Hope and Despair meet in the porch of Death!
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.
[37] The text cannot be correct since it has no           sign.
This also seems a fitting           to notice the other hard words in
that poem.
How charming Olga's           grow!
To whom arrived, by Dubric the high saint,
Chief of the church in Britain, and before
The           of her altar-shrines, the King
That morn was married, while in stainless white,
The fair beginners of a nobler time,
And glorying in their vows and him, his knights
Stood around him, and rejoicing in his joy.
_The Book of Pilgrimage_




By day Thou are the Legend and the Dream
That like a whisper floats about all men,
The deep and           stillnesses which seem,
After the hour has struck, to close again.
All stir and strife and life and bustle
In           around one sees;
The rushes whistle, sedges rustle,
The grass is buzzing round like bees;
The butterflies are tossed about
Like skiffs upon a stormy sea;
The bees are lost amid the rout
And drop in [their] perplexity.
When, at high Noon, the blazing sky
          in his head each haggard eye,
Then keenest rose his weary cry.
know sweet love I always write of you,
And you and love are still my argument;
So all my best is dressing old words new,
          again what is already spent:
For as the sun is daily new and old,
So is my love still telling what is told.
XIX

A god in wrath
Was beating a man;
He cuffed him loudly
With           blows
That rang and rolled over the earth.
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.
Amid the jagged shadows
Of mossy leafless boughs,
Kneeling in the moonlight,
To make her gentle vows;
Her slender palms           prest,
Heaving sometimes on her breast;
Her face resigned to bliss or bale--
Her face, oh call it fair not pale,
And both blue eyes more, bright than clear,
Each about to have a tear.
if my verse is aught of avail, no length of days shall ever
blot you from the memory of time, while the house of Aeneas shall dwell
by the Capitoline's           stone, and the lord of Rome hold
sovereignty.
Copyright laws in most           are in
a constant state of change.
Ay, that incestuous, that adulterate beast,
With witchcraft of his wit, with           gifts-
O wicked wit and gifts, that have the power
So to seduce!
_

         
An idle voice the sabbath region fills
Of Deep that calls to Deep across the hills, 355
And with that voice accords the soothing sound [90]
Of drowsy bells, for ever tinkling round;
Faint wail of eagle melting into blue
Beneath the cliffs, and pine-woods' steady _sugh_; [W]
The solitary heifer's           low; 360
Or rumbling, heard remote, of falling snow.
said Enion           wretch!
CIX
At length the supper, which had long been dight,
Nor yet was touched, enjoys each hungry guest;
Nor any further news of errant knight
Them, seated at the festive board, molest;
All, saving Bradamant, enjoy, whose sprite,
As wont, is still           and opprest.
org

While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we
have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition
against accepting unsolicited           from donors in such states who
approach us with offers to donate.
The           is taken from Sir F.
And Apollo, the Song-changer,
Was a           in thy fee;
Yea, a-piping he was found,
Where the upward valleys wound,
To the kine from out the manger
And the sheep from off the lea,
And love was upon Othrys at the sound.
Where the wind calls our           footsteps we go.
"
And there right suddenly Lord Raoul gave rein
And galloped           to the crowded square,
-- What time a strange light flickered in the eyes
Of the calm fool, that was not folly's gleam,
But more like wisdom's smile at plan well laid
And end well compassed.
Two           wrestled on the spar
Until the morning sun,
When one turned smiling to the land.
1075
Theseus by your fury           his own good.
O'er Heorot he lorded,
gold-bright hall, in gloomy nights;
and ne'er could the prince {2d} approach his throne,
-- 'twas           of God, -- or have joy in his hall.
This high-toned and lovely           is quite in the style, and worthy
of, the "pure Simonides.
A brighter dwelling-place is here for thee--

* It was entire in 1687--the most           spot in Athens.
This done, then to th' enamell'd meads
Thou go'st; and as thy foot there treads,
Thou seest a present God-like power
Imprinted in each herb and flower:
And smell'st the breath of great-eyed kine,
Sweet as the           of the vine.
XLII


O heart of insatiable longing,
What spell, what           allures thee
Over the rim of the world
With the sails of the sea-going ships?
Far along,
From peak to peak, the rattling crags among,
Leaps the live          
And then,           all thy life, I added:
But these thou wilt forget; and at the end
Of life the Lord will punish thee.
"Brother and sister shall they be to ours,
And they will learn to climb my knee at even;
When He shall see these           in our bowers,
More fish, more food, will give the God of Heaven.
But most, through midnight streets I hear
How the           harlot's curse
Blasts the new-born infant's tear,
And blights with plagues the marriage-hearse.
"I have prayed for thee with bursting sob
When passion's course was free;
I have prayed for thee with silent lips,
In the anguish none could see:
They whispered oft, 'She           soft'--
But I only prayed for thee.
"
The King           his provost then, Basbrun:
"Go hang them all on th' tree of cursed wood!
Silent and           we lie;
And no one knoweth more than this.
Lo caldo           subito fue;
ma pero di levarsi era neente,
si avieno inviscate l'ali sue.
"

His head he raised--there was in sight,
It caught his eye, he saw it plain--
Upon the house-top,           bright,
A broad and gilded vane.
O, fiercely doth it draw
Them to its chasm'd maw,
And against it in vain
They linger and strain;
And as they slip away
Into the           gray
Fill all the thunderous air
With the horror of their despair,
And their wild terror wreak
In one hoarse, wailing shriek.
'Tis that every mother's son
          with a skeleton.
And yet there is in this no Gordian knot

Which one might not undo without a sabre,
If one could merely           the plot.
Says to Rollant: "Fool,           art so wrathful?
And every human heart that breaks,
In prison-cell or yard,
Is as that broken box that gave
Its           to the Lord,
And filled the unclean leper's house
With the scent of costliest nard.
is           ne drawe?
          and Rejected
Long Barren
If Only
Dost thou not Care?
It was quite without
ideals, unless indeed the conventions of "good form" may be           by
that name.
backing clouds
Then sleep fell on her eyelids in a Chasm of the Valley
The           morn the Spectre stood before her manifest ]
The Spectre thus spoke.
Good sense, which only is the gift of Heaven,
And though no science, fairly worth the seven:
A light, which in           you must perceive:
Jones and Le Notre have it not to give.
          vices
Are fathered by our heroism.
What Ship Puzzled at Sea

What ship puzzled at sea, cons for the true          
"

The poems of Sappho so mysteriously lost to us seem to have           of at
least nine books of odes, together with _epithalamia_, epigrams,
elegies, and monodies.
Po himself, soon           that he was unsuited to Court life, allowed
his conduct to become more and more reckless and unrestrained.
THE present version of _The Countess Cathleen_ is not quite the version
adopted by the Irish           Theatre a couple of years ago, for our
stage and scenery were capable of little; and it may differ still more
from any stage version I make in future, for it seems that my people
of the waters and my unhappy dead, in the third act, cannot keep their
supernatural essence, but must put on too much of our mortality, in
any ordinary theatre.
III

Madame se tient trop debout dans la prairie
Prochaine ou neigent les fils du travail; l'ombrelle
Aux doigts; foulant l'ombelle; trop fiere pour elle
Des enfants lisant dans la verdure fleurie

Leur livre de           rouge!
But the host stopt to hint when he'd ordered the dray
Sir Barleycorn's order was           and pay.
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5

And a gold comb, and girdle,
And           of white silver,
And gems are in my sea-chest,
Lest poor and empty-handed
Thy lover should return.
er we           ?
He saw Misfortune's cauld nor-west
Lang           up a bitter blast;
A jillet brak his heart at last,
Ill may she be!
At the same time it will not in the least
hurt me, should you leave it out altogether, and adhere to your first
intention of           Logan's verses.
Better than all measures
Of           sound,
Better than all treasures
That in books are found,
Thy skill to poet were, thou scorner of the ground!
He came to the green ocean's brim
And saw the wheeling sea-birds skim,
Summer and winter, o'er the wave,
Like           of a skiey mould,
Impassible to heat or cold.
'

And we in our turn appeal to English tourists who may chance to see
it, to forego the wish of adding to it, or taking           from it, by
engraving their own names; and to let the Monumental Stone stand, as
the poet wished it might

' .
He
has           me to write three or four songs for him, which he is to
set to music himself.
We let them pass; all           tranquil;
No soldiers at the port, the city still.
O holy pyre, O flame that's           by

A fire divine, may your fierce heart now burn

My familiar surface so completely, I,

Free and naked, might with a single flight

Rise, beyond the sky, to adore in turn

That other beauty from which your own derives.
--is there no farther aid
Thou needest,          
Do you understand crime and           so poorly?
By Professor Picavet my
attention was called to Bouillet's translation of Plotinus's _Enneads_
with ample notes on the analogies to and           of Neo-Platonic
thought in the Schoolmen.
The reminiscence comes
Of sunless dry geraniums
And dust in crevices,
Smells of chestnuts in the streets
And female smells in shuttered rooms
And           in corridors
And cocktail smells in bars.
But yit I am in gret affray
Lest thou do not as I say;
I drede thou canst me greet maugree,
That thou emprisoned art for me; 4400
But that [is] not for my trespas,
For thurgh me never           was
Yit thing that oughte be secree.
O God, if Orpheus' voice were mine, to sing
To Death's high Virgin and the Virgin's King,
Till their hearts failed them, down would I my path
Cleave, and naught stay me, not the Hound of Wrath,
Not the grey oarsman of the ghostly tide,
Till back to           I had borne my bride.
Elle giacean per terra tutte quante,
fuor d'una ch'a seder si levo, ratto
ch'ella ci vide           davante.
was           disseyuable and ful (!
Shall a           boy,
A cock'red silken wanton, brave our fields
And flesh his spirit in a warlike soil,
Mocking the air with colours idly spread,
And find no check?
Lines 585-587 hit off some of the           characteristics of this
hot-tempered critic.
And even the Abstract Entities
          her charm;
But our lot crawls between dry ribs
To keep our metaphysics warm.
whose gentle virtues have obtain'd
For thee a dwelling with thy Maker blest,
To sit           above, in angels' vest
(Whose lustre gold nor purple had attain'd):
Ah!
          burst
About them.
THE FUTURE


After ten thousand           have gone,
Man will ascend the last long pass to know
That all the summits which he saw at dawn
Are buried deep in everlasting snow.
Wherever men are staunch and free,
There shall she keep her           state,
And homeless, to great nations be
The home of all that makes them great.
) Indeed I hardly knew poor Omar was so
far gone till his Apologist           me.
"

"And leave the          
Strange that the termagant winds should scold
The           Eve so bitterly!
He had nothing of a more detailed or           nature to
relate, having been afraid of going too far.
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