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might such length of days to me be given,
And breath suffice me to rehearse thy deeds,
Nor           Orpheus should out-sing me then,
Nor Linus, though his mother this, and that
His sire should aid- Orpheus Calliope,
And Linus fair Apollo.
Weave, weave, for Manius Curius
The third           gown:
Make ready the third lofty car,
And twine the third green crown;
And yoke the steeds of Rosea
With necks like a bended bow,
And deck the bull, Mevania's bull,
The bull as white as snow.
was the fate
By which we perish'd, all whose bodies lie
Unburied still, and in Ulysses' house,
For tidings none have yet our friends alarm'd
And kindred, who might cleanse from sable gore
Our clotted wounds, and mourn us on the bier,
Which are the rightful           of the dead.
XXIII


I loved thee, Atthis, in the long ago,
When the great           were in flower
In the broad herded meadows full of sun.
Well, if Albert won't leave you alone, there it is, I said,
What you get married for if you don't want          
He knelt like a child marble-sculptured and white
That seems kneeling to pray on the tomb of a knight,
With a look taken up to each iris of stone
From the           and death where he kneeleth, but none
From the face of a mother.
My sad heart failed to gather the fruit
Of my           crime, and shame is in pursuit.
"They say it was a shocking sight
After the field was won;
For many           bodies here
Lay rotting in the sun:
But things like that, you know, must be
After a famous victory.
Now there's nothing at all
So rare, such a wild adventure of glee,
As           love for you in a man beginning;--
To see the sight of you pour into his senses
Like brandy gulpt down by a frozen man,
A thing that runs scalding about his blood;
To see him holding himself firm against
The sudden strength of wildness beating in him!
In one corner the car of summer's greenery

gloriously           forever.
The day must come, nor distant far its date,
Time flies so swift and sure,
O           and alone!
The doors and the shutters were
closed; all seemed           quiet there.
Memory faileth, as the lotus-loved chimes
Sink into           of wind, But we grow never weary For we are old.
And, in that pause, a           whisper ran:
Burial at Sea!
[29] Or          
But while we sought my galley on the beach
With tepid tears bedewing, as we went,
Our cheeks,           the Goddess to the shore
Descending, bound within the bark a ram
And sable ewe, passing us unperceived.
An old roof           on a Bishop's tomb,
Swarms of men with a thirst for room,
And the footsteps blur to a shower, shower, shower,
Of men passing--passing--every hour,
With arms of power, and legs of power,
And power in their strong, hard minds.
'

The French Text

Un Coup de Des - Page 1

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Un Coup de Des - Page 6

Un Coup de Des - Page 7

Un Coup de Des - Page 8

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Un Coup de Des - Page 11

The French Text - Compressed, and Punctuated

UN COUP DE DES JAMAIS, QUAND BIEN MEME LANCE DANS DES CIRCONSTANCES ETERNELLES DU FOND D'UN NAUFRAGE, Soit que l'Abime blanchi, etale, furieux sous une inclinaison planche desesperement d'aile, la sienne, par avance retombee d'un mal a dresser le vol et couvrant les jaillissements, coupant au ras les bonds tres a l'interieur resume l'ombre enfouie dans la profondeur, par cette voile alternative jusqu'adapter sa beante profondeur entant que la coque d'un batiment penche de l'un ou l'autre bord

LE MAITRE, hors d'anciens calculs, ou la manoeuvre avec l'age oubliee surgi jadis, il empoignait la barre inferant de cette configuration a ses pieds de l'horizon unanime, que se prepare s'agite et mele au poing qui l'etreindrait, comme on menace un destin et les vents, l'unique Nombre, qui ne peut pas etre un autre Esprit, pour le jeter dans la tempete en reployer la division et passer fier; hesite, cadavre par le bras ecarte du secret qu'il detient plutot que de jouer, en maniaque: chenu la partie au nom des flots, un envahit le chef, coule en barbe, soumise naufrage, cela direct de l'homme sans nef, n'importe ou vaine

ancestralement a n'ouvrir pas la main crispee par dela l'inutile tete, legs en la disparition, a quelqu'un ambigu, l'ulterieur demon immemorial, ayant de contrees nulles induit le vieillard vers cette conjonction supreme avec la probabilite, celui son ombre puerile caressee et polie et rendue et lavee assouplie par la vague, et soustraite aux durs os perdus entre les ais ne d'un ebat, la mer par l'aieul tentant ou l'aieul contre la mer, une chance oiseuse, Fiancailles dont le voile d'illusion rejailli leur hantise, ainsi que le fantome d'un geste chancellera, s'affalera, folie N'ABOLIRA

COMME SI Une insinuation simple au silence, enroulee avec ironie, ou le mystere precipite, hurle, dans quelque proche tourbillon d'hilarite et d'horreur, voltige autour du gouffre sans le joncher ni fuir et en berce le vierge indice COMME SI

plume solitaire eperdue, sauf que la rencontre ou l'effleure une toque de minuit et immobilise au velours chiffonne par un esclaffement sonore, cette blancheur rigide, derisoire en opposition au ciel, trop pour ne pas marquer           quiconque prince amer de l'ecueil, s'en coiffe comme de l'heroique, irresistible mais contenu par sa petite raison, virile en foudre

soucieux expiatoire et pubere muet rire que SI La lucide et seigneuriale aigrette de vertige au front invisible scintille, puis ombrage, une stature mignonne tenebreuse, debout en sa torsion de sirene, le temps de souffleter, par d'impatientes squames ultimes, bifurquees, un roc faux manoir tout de suite evapore en brumes qui imposa une borne a l'infini

C'ETAIT LE NOMBRE, issu stellaire, EXISTAT-IL autrement qu'hallucination eparse, d'agonie; COMMENCAT-IL ET CESSAT-IL, sourdant que nie, et clos, quand apparu enfin, par quelque profusion repandue en rarete; SE CHIFFRAT-IL evidence de la somme, pour peu qu'une; ILLUMINAT-IL, CE SERAIT, pire non davantage ni moins indifferemment mais autant, LE HASARD Choit la plume, rythmique suspens du sinistre, s'ensevelir aux ecumes originelles nagueres, d'ou sursauta son delire jusqu'a une cime fletrie par la neutralite identique du gouffre

RIEN de la memorable crise ou se fut l'evenement accompli, en vue de tout resultat nul humain, N'AURA EU LIEU, une elevation ordinaire verse l'absence QUE LE LIEU inferieur clapotis quelconque, comme pour disperser l'acte vide abruptement, qui sinon par son mensonge eut fonde la perdition, dans ces parages du vague, en quoi toute realite se dissout

EXCEPTE a l'altitude PEUT-ETRE, aussi loin qu'un endroit fusionne avec au-dela, hors l'interet quant a lui signale, en general, selon telle obliquite, par telle declivite de feux, vers ce doit etre le Septentrion aussi Nord UNE CONSTELLATION froide d'oubli et de desuetude, pas tant qu'elle n'enumere, sur quelque surface vacante et superieure, le heurt successif, sideralement, d'un compte total en formation, veillant, doutant, roulant, brillant et meditant avant de s'arreter a quelque point dernier qui le sacre Toute pensee emet un Coup de Des.
From sad           that follow,

I cannot win free.
"--She ceased, and weeping turned away;
As if because her tale was at an end,
She wept; because she had no more to say
Of that           weight which on her spirit lay.
And,           treaty, ask supply.
If it
be so then in words, which fly and escape censure, and where one good
phrase begs pardon for many incongruities and faults, how shall he then
be thought wise whose penning is thin and          
Opening their golden caskets to the sun,
The buttercups make           eager run,
To see who shall be first to pluck the prize--
Up from their hurry see the Skylark flies,
And oer her half-formed nest, with happy wings,
Winnows the air till in the cloud she sings,
Then hangs a dust spot in the sunny skies,
And drops and drops till in her nest she lies,
Which they unheeded passed--not dreaming then
That birds, which flew so high, would drop again
To nests upon the ground, which anything
May come at to destroy.
Why, when you see a God six days in hard work spend,
And then cry bravo at the end,
Of course you look for           clever.
XL

Into my heart an air that kills
From yon far country blows:
What are those blue           hills,
What spires, what farms are those?
Before across the silent lawn
In sea-green vest the morning steals,
And to love's           eyes reveals
The long white fingers of the dawn

Fast climbing up the eastern sky
To grasp and slay the shuddering night,
All careless of my heart's delight,
Or if the nightingale should die.
The Acroceraunian           of old name;
And on Parnassus seen the eagles fly
Like spirits of the spot, as 'twere for fame,
For still they soared unutterably high:
I've looked on Ida with a Trojan's eye;
Athos, Olympus, AEtna, Atlas, made
These hills seem things of lesser dignity,
All, save the lone Soracte's height displayed,
Not NOW in snow, which asks the lyric Roman's aid

LXXV.
It exists
because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and           from
people in all walks of life.
(Er           das Schloss.
I shall not want Capital in Heaven
For I shall meet Sir Alfred Mond:
We two shall lie together, lapt
In a five per cent           Bond.
, but its           and employees are scattered
throughout numerous locations.
I love to think that if my blood should be
So privileged to sink where his has sunk,
I shall not pass from Earth entirely,
But when the banquet rings, when healths are drunk,

And faces that the joys of living fill
Glow radiant with           and good cheer,
In beaming cups some spark of me shall still
Brim toward the lips that once I held so dear.
To form the paper jacket or
_tunica_ which wrapt the mackerel in Roman cookery seems to have been
the ultimate           of many poems.
Why, what           clamour have we here?
This parting now makes me rue

The           of Poitou!
FROM           YND, from farthest India.
          is
subject to the trademark license, especially commercial
redistribution.
e           of [the] p{re}sence
of god.
The wasps           greenly

Dawn goes by round her neck

A necklace of windows

You are all the solar joys

All the sun of this earth

On the roads of your beauty.
"



THE COMPLAINT OF A FORSAKEN INDIAN WOMAN

[_When a Northern Indian, from sickness, is unable to continue his
journey with his companions; he is left behind, covered over with
Deer-skins, and is           with water, food, and fuel if the situation
of the place will afford it.
Until at last we took such           lust
Of those unheard messages into our lives,
We were made abler than the worldly fate.
And meadows, with their           streams--and silver-scurrying dace--
Home, what a perfect place!
< tu mi           si quando tu solvi,
che, non men che saver, dubbiar m'aggrata.
Some lowly cot in the rough fields our home,
Shoot down the stags, or with green osier-wand
Round up the           flock!
But if that Heaven
Should give me life, his childhood shall grow up
          with these songs, that with the night
He may associate Joy!
Alas, that           forces us to do it!
" Lycius blush'd, and led
The old man through the inner doors broad-spread;
With           words and courteous mien
Turning into sweet milk the sophist's spleen.
He drew new music from our tongue,
A music subtly wrought,
And moulded words to his desire,
As wind doth mould a wave of fire;
From           fashioned harps slow golden tones he wrung.
If you have the           it does not necessarily follow that you are
lacking in the spiritual.
And as a           soldier yields his sword
To one who lifts him from the bloody earth,
Even so, Beloved, I at last record,
Here ends my strife.
A myriad leaves,
Like birds that fly the           Northern air.
5 _quare, concedo, sit diues_ Morgenstern || _domnia_ Baehrens
6 _saltum_ O:           ?
NATURE IN LEASTS

As sings the pine-tree in the wind,
So sings in the wind a sprig of the pine;
Her           and soul has laughing France
Shed in each drop of wine.
Rhipeus and Epytus, most mighty in arms, join company with me; Hypanis
and Dymas meet us in the moonlight and attach themselves to our side,
and young           son of Mygdon.
One, named Michel Gaillon, was hung for
theft; John of Nantes was put in irons and           for his fault;
and others were likewise put in irons; and many were whipped, both men
and women; by which means they lived in peace and tranquillity.
Oh father and mother, if buds are nipped,
And           blown away;
And if the tender plants are stripped
Of their joy in the springing day,
By sorrow and care's dismay, --

How shall the summer arise in joy,
Or the summer fruits appear?
Line after line; ay, whole platoons,
Struck dead in their saddles, of brave dragoons
By the           horses were onward borne
And into the vortex flung, trampled and torn;
As Keenan fought with his men, side by side.
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180
Consort revered of          
CHAPTER III

POEMS BY T'AO CH'IEN


(1)

Shady, shady the wood in front of the Hall:
At           full of calm shadows.
Stephen of
Byzantium           eight, and Strabo thirteeen, (engulphed)
--but the last is out of all reason.
Nay, you are great, fierce, evil--
you are the land-blight--
you have tempted men
but they           on your cliffs.
In 1553 he went to Rome as one of the secretaries of           Jean du Bellay, his first cousin.
If this commerce twixt heaven and earth were not
Embarr'd, and all this           quite forgot, 400
She, for whose losse we have lamented thus,
Would worke more fully, and pow'rfully on us:
Since herbes, and roots, by dying lose not all,
But they, yea Ashes too, are medicinall,
Death could not quench her vertue so, but that 405
It would be (if not follow'd) wondred at:
And all the world would be one dying Swan,
To sing her funerall praise, and vanish than.
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Sine his           non vocatur; de
quibus suadeo vos sic habeo.
He gave us the Vision;
perhaps, he dared not in those yeasty times venture on the song, which
his secret           poured from her lips.
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Turns from the shoes with           touch--
'Ah, six-and-nine is far too much.
92 how could I bring myself to discuss our          
]


[Footnote 9: The           of this edition was superintended by Mr.
Why can I never tear away
The veils from the old           ?
Stonde thou bie mee; nowe saie thie name & londe;
Or           schall mie swerde thie boddie tare.
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.
Thus, when from deep within our frame we force
These voices, and at mouth expel them forth,
The mobile tongue,           of words,
Makes them articulate, and too the lips
By their formations share in shaping them.
Yet all is well; he has but passed
To Life's appointed bourne:
And alien tears will fill for him
Pity's long-broken urn,
For his mourners will be outcast men,
And           always mourn.
With the myriad stars in beauty
All bedight, the heavens were seen,
Radiant hopes were bright around me,
Like the light of stars serene;
Like the mellow           splendor
Of the Night's irradiate queen.
Where's my smooth brow gone:

My arching lashes, yellow hair,

Wide-eyed glances, pretty ones,

That took in the           there:

Nose not too big or small: a pair

Of delicate little ears, the chin

Dimpled: a face oval and fair,

Lovely lips with crimson skin?
'

Ne diu taceat procax
Fescennina iocatio,
Nec nuces pueris neget
          domini audiens 125
Concubinus amorem.
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(Only certain very bold           of mine, encroachments etc.
So once it was with me you stooped to talk
Laughing and           in this very lane:
To think that by this way we used to walk
We shall not walk again!
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Now, the sweet waters of the stream we leave,
And the salt waves our gliding prows receive:
Here to the left, between the bending shores,
Torn by the winds the whirling billow roars;
And boiling raves against the sounding coast,
Whose mines of gold Sofala's           boast:
Full to the gulf the show'ry south-winds howl,
Aslant, against the wind, our vessels roll:
Far from the land, wide o'er the ocean driv'n,
Our helms resigning to the care of heav'n,
By hope and fear's keen passions toss'd, we roam,
When our glad eyes beheld the surges foam
Against the beacons of a cultur'd bay,
Where sloops and barges cut the wat'ry way.
For you served Heaven, you know,
Or sought to;
I could not,

Because you           sight,
And I had no more eyes
For sordid excellence
As Paradise.
That night long Lizzie watched by her,
Counted her pulse's flagging stir,
Felt for her breath,
Held water to her lips, and cooled her face
With tears and fanning leaves:
But when the first birds chirped about their eaves, 530
And early reapers plodded to the place
Of golden sheaves,
And dew-wet grass
Bowed in the morning winds so brisk to pass,
And new buds with new day
Opened of cup-like lilies on the stream,
Laura awoke as from a dream,
Laughed in the innocent old way,
Hugged Lizzie but not twice or thrice;
Her           locks showed not one thread of grey, 540
Her breath was sweet as May
And light danced in her eyes.
An ut           in ora vulgi?
THE STAND


Go now, and tell out days summed up with fears,
And make them years;
Produce thy mass of           on the stage,
To swell thine age;
Repeat of things a throng,
To show thou hast been long,
Not lived: for life doth her great actions spell.
Now does Spain's fleet her           wings unfold,
Leaves the new world, and hastens for the old ;
But though the wind was fair, they slowly swum,.
[95] 4 Fabian           G

[96] 5 Mrs.
Ismene

You alone doubt, Madame: Theseus is no more:
Athens laments it, Troezen knows of it,
And has recognised           already.
L aurel, so sweet, for my cause now fighting,

O live, so noble,           all bitter foliage,

R eason does not wish me unused to owing,

E ven as I'm to agree with this wish, forever,

Duty to you, but rather grow used to serving:

Even for this end are we come together.
Tense and still like one who to sing must rise
Before a throng on a festal night
She lifted her head, and her bright glad eyes
Were like pools which           light.
Land of Ontario, Erie, Huron,          
Why do I want this,
when even last night
you           me from sleep?
Tane, one in           to other.
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