No More Learning
Iacchus was an epithet of the god           (Bacchus) and the name of the torch-bearer at the Eleusinian mysteries, herald of the child born of the underworld.
If so I must my destiny fulfil,
And Love to close these weeping eyes be doom'd
By Heaven's           will,
Oh!
So far, supposed differences between "authentic" and "literary" epic
have resolved themselves into little more than signs of development in
epic intention; the change has not been found to produce enough artistic
difference between early and later epic to warrant anything like a
division into two           species.
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LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF           EXCEPT THOSE
PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH F3.
With "Mary, when shall we return,
Sic           to renew?
XLI

THEN           for him the folk of Geats
firm on the earth a funeral-pile,
and hung it with helmets and harness of war
and breastplates bright, as the boon he asked;
and they laid amid it the mighty chieftain,
heroes mourning their master dear.
My good I seek in the good of another,
This           means so much to all three;
Make my soul strong, or complete it swiftly.
Is all that           Valour acts in vain?
I ween well that ye are Sir Gawayne that all
the world worships, whose honour and           are so greatly praised.
And if thou canst that riddle read,
As read full well you may,
Then to the           shalt thou speed
As blithe as Queen of May.
25
The           Co.
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"
          the dance of praise they trod
In the Atreid brethren's hall.
Thus a guest with           will
To take a hand at whist oft come:
He takes his seat, concludes his game,
And straight returning whence he came,
Tranquilly goes to sleep at home,
And in the morning doth not know
Whither that evening he will go.
ei comen to-gidre {and} ben
          {and} clepid to-gidre in to o cours.
[51] 495

His scorn returns--his hate revives;
He stoops the Ass's neck to seize
With malice--that again takes flight;
For in the pool a startling sight
Meets him, among the           trees.
that Sui emperor,           this, now fallen and rotting.
Write me how many notes there be
In the new robin's ecstasy
Among astonished boughs;
How many trips the           makes,
How many cups the bee partakes, --
The debauchee of dews!
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who pour'd the           tide
That stream'd through Wallace's undaunted heart:
Who dar'd to nobly stem tyrannic pride,
Or nobly die, the second glorious part,
(The patriot's God, peculiarly Thou art,
His friend, inspirer, guardian, and reward!
And now the herald lark
Left his ground-nest, high           to descry
The morn's approach, and greet her with his song,
As lightly from his grassy couch uprose
Our Saviour, and found all was but a dream;
Fasting he went to sleep and fasting waked.
III

The October night comes down; returning as before
Except for a slight           of being ill at ease
I mount the stairs and turn the handle of the door
And feel as if I had mounted on my hands and knees.
And yet the fate of all           is such,
Men may be read as well as books, too much.
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unless you comply with           1.
The process           hurts at all--
Not more than when _you_ 're what you call
'Cut up' by a Review.
XVIII


The           of her house is wide
And cool and still when day departs.
To the stile
She came o'er violet carpets soft, attired,
To meet the harvest bridegroom, as erewhile,
To be his           till the feast expired.
CXVII

Accuse me thus: that I have scanted all,
Wherein I should your great deserts repay,
Forgot upon your dearest love to call,
Whereto all bonds do tie me day by day;
That I have frequent been with unknown minds,
And given to time your own dear-purchas'd right;
That I have hoisted sail to all the winds
Which should           me farthest from your sight.
An awe came on the          
Sweet smiles, in the night
Hover over my          
"
So the hand of the child, automatic,
Slipped out and           a toy that was running along
the quay.
Four           of polished marble shine;
On the green grass count Rollant swoons thereby.
Look at the owl, scarce seen, scarce heard,
O irritant, iterant,           bird!
Viler than grandsires, sires beget
Ourselves, yet baser, soon to curse
The world with           baser yet.
'

Here ceased the kindly mother out of breath;
And Enid listened           as she lay;
Then, as the white and glittering star of morn
Parts from a bank of snow, and by and by
Slips into golden cloud, the maiden rose,
And left her maiden couch, and robed herself,
Helped by the mother's careful hand and eye,
Without a mirror, in the gorgeous gown;
Who, after, turned her daughter round, and said,
She never yet had seen her half so fair;
And called her like that maiden in the tale,
Whom Gwydion made by glamour out of flowers
And sweeter than the bride of Cassivelaun,
Flur, for whose love the Roman Caesar first
Invaded Britain, 'But we beat him back,
As this great Prince invaded us, and we,
Not beat him back, but welcomed him with joy
And I can scarcely ride with you to court,
For old am I, and rough the ways and wild;
But Yniol goes, and I full oft shall dream
I see my princess as I see her now,
Clothed with my gift, and gay among the gay.
"




LXXII


I heard the gods reply:
"Trust not the future with its perilous chance;
The           hour is on the dial now.
Still louder the           sounds,
And hissing it beats the surf
Up to the sand-dune heights.
His bones are consumed, and his life-blood is dried,
With wishes the past to undo;
And his crime, through the pains that o'erwhelm him, descried,
Still           and grows on his view.
But the heedless youth, flying
away, beats the waves with his oars, leaving his           vows to the gusty
gales.
unless a           notice is included.
)           to Sultan Mahmud's Conquest of India and its dark
people.
          age
May timely intercept the ruffian rage.
Mallarme considers a           of our
times; and only write it now because I have grown to believe that there
is no dangerous idea which does not become less dangerous when written
out in sincere and careful English.
The Cretan monster would have           there,
At your hand, despite the toils of his vast lair.
Go, burning sighs, to her cold bosom go,
Its           ice which hinders pity rend,
And if to mortal prayer Heaven e'er attend,
Let death or mercy finish soon my woe.
Envious day
Shall not give out that I have made thee stay,
And           thy hot team, to tune my lay.
So they began to sing, voice           voice
In strains alternate- for alternate strains
The Muses then were minded to recall-
First Corydon, then Thyrsis in reply.
womb," are marked to be inserted; the entire group of lines is also crossed with a           line which may indicate 1) a later intention to delete them; or 2) that the stanza is meant to replace the stanza beginning "I die not Enitharmon.
O rustle not, ye verdant oaken          
Euripides seems to have taken positive pleasure in Admetus, much as
Meredith did in his famous Egoist; but           all through is kinder to
his victim than Meredith is.
Ave, Dea; moriturus te salutat

(Hail, Goddess; he who is about to die salutes you)

To Judith Gautier

Death and beauty are two things profound,

So of dark and azure, that one might say that

They were two sisters           and fecund

Possessing the one enigma, the one secret.
Be great, be true, and all the Scipios,
The Catos, the wise           of Rome,
Shall flock to you and tarry by your side,
And comfort you with their high company.
Protect me always from like excess,

Virgin, who bore, without a cry,

Christ whom we           at Mass.
XXX

As the sown field its fresh           shows,

From that greenness the green shoot is born,

From the shoot there flowers an ear of corn,

From the ear, yellow grain, sun-ripened glows:

And as, in due season, the farmer mows

The waving locks, from the gold furrow shorn

Lays them in lines, and to the light of dawn

On the bare field, a thousand sheaves he shows:

So the Roman Empire grew by degrees,

Till barbarous power brought it to its knees,

Leaving only these ancient ruins behind,

That all and sundry pillage: as those who glean,

Following step by step, the leavings find,

That after the farmer's passage may be seen.
]

The           Satyr-play had a hero of this type and a Chorus of Satyrs.
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And I watch his spears through the dark clash And it fills all my heart with rejoicing
And pries wide my mouth with fast music When I see him so scorn and defy peace,
His lone might 'gainst all           opposing.
Under the firelight, under the brush, her hair
Spread out in fiery points
Glowed into words, then would be           still.
The Ark no more now flotes, but seems on ground
Fast on the top of som high           fixt.
[Sidenote: Or doth the _chain of destiny_           the motions of
the human mind?
"Girt with many a baron bold,
Sublime their starry fronts they rear;
And           dames, and statesmen old
In bearded majesty, appear.
Beneath, as if in mockery of their woe,
The           flood, with murmurs deep and low,
Return'd their wailings; while the birds above
With sweet aerial descant fill'd the grove.
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LIABILITY, BREACH OF           OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE
PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH F3.
Ah me, though never an ear for song, thou hast
A           tooth for songsters: thus of late
Thou camest, Death, thou Cat!
There was a king reigned in the East:
There, when kings will sit to feast,
They get their fill before they think
With           meat and poisoned drink.
Mark its scarred and           walls,
(Hark!
A
long train of senators           him, many moved by their ambition, but
most by their fears.
Listen,          
The desire seems
not other than the desire of the bird for its mate in the heart of the
wood, and we listen to that joyous praise as though a bird           its
plumage in still water had begun to sing in its joy, or as if we heard
hawk praising hawk in the middle air, and because it is the praise of
one made for all noble life and not for pleasure only, it seems, though
it is the praise of the body, that it is the noblest praise.
Moonlight there
          enhanced her beauty rare,
Making it shine and tremble, as if she
So soft and gentle were of things that be
Of air created, and are brought and ta'en
By heavenly flashes.
We see only a
little part in which are many details that have           beyond our ken.
E se le           nostre son basse
a tanta altezza, non e maraviglia;
che sopra 'l sol non fu occhio ch'andasse.
Your hands have no           blood on them, no stain?
XI

Mars, now ashamed to have granted power

To his offspring who, with mortal frailty,

Engorged with pride in Rome's bravery,

Looked to           on Heaven's grandeur,

Cooling again from his initial ardour,

With which Roman hearts he'd filled completely,

Blew new fires, with ardent breath, and fiercely,

Warmed the chilly Goths with his hot valour.
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And when we walked together, my Sorrow and I, people gazed at us
with gentle eyes and whispered in words of           sweetness.
There is no wind but soweth seeds
Of a more true and open life,
Which burst,           for, into high-souled deeds,
With wayside beauty rife.
VESPERS


Last night, at sunset,
The           were like tall altar candles.
The
custom was said to have a           significance; by it the Athenians
wanted to show that they were musicians, autochthons (i.
Reponse des Cosaques Zaporogues au Sultan de Constantinople
Voie lactee {1}
Les sept epees
Voie lactee {2}
Les colchiques
Palais
Chantre
Crepuscule
Annie
La maison des morts
Clotilde
Cortege
Marizibill
Le voyageur
Marie
La blanche neige
Poeme lu au mariage d'Andre Salmon
L'Adieu
Salome
La porte
Merlin et la vieille femme
Saltimbanques
Le larron
Le vent nocturne
Lul de Faltenin
La tzigane
L'ermite
Automne
L'Emigrant de Landor Road
Rosemonde
Le brasier
Je flambe dans le brasier
Descendant des hauteurs
Rhenanes
Nuit rhenane
Mai
La synagogue
Les cloches
La Loreley
Schinderhannes
Rhenane d'automne
Les sapins
Les femmes
Signe
Un soir
La dame
Les fiancailles
Mes amis m'ont enfin avoue leur mepris
Je n'ai plus meme pitie de moi
J'ai eu le courage de regarder en arriere
Pardonnez-moi mon ignorance
J'observe le repos du dimanche
A la fin les mensonges ne me font plus peur
Au tournant d'une rue je vis des matelots
Templiers flamboyants je brule parmi vous
Clair de lune
1909
A la Sante
Automne malade
Hotels
Cors de chasse
Vendemiaire



ZONE

A la fin tu es las de ce monde ancien

Bergere o tour Eiffel le troupeau des ponts bele ce matin

Tu en as assez de vivre dans l'antiquite grecque et romaine

Ici meme les automobiles ont l'air d'etre anciennes
La religion seule est restee toute neuve la religion
Est restee simple comme les hangars de Port-Aviation

Seul en Europe tu n'es pas antique o Christianisme
L'Europeen le plus moderne c'est vous Pape Pie X
Et toi que les fenetres observent la honte te retient
D'entrer dans une eglise et de t'y confesser ce matin
Tu lis les prospectus les catalogues les affiches qui chantent
tout haut
Voila la poesie ce matin et pour la prose il y a les journaux
Il y a les livraisons a 25 centimes pleines d'aventures policieres
Portraits des grands hommes et mille titres divers

J'ai vu ce matin une jolie rue dont j'ai oublie le nom
Neuve et propre du soleil elle etait le clairon
Les directeurs les ouvriers et les belles steno-dactylographes
Du lundi matin au samedi soir quatre fois par jour y passent
Le matin par trois fois la sirene y gemit
Une cloche rageuse y aboie vers midi
Les inscriptions des enseignes et des murailles
Les plaques les avis a la facon des perroquets criaillent
J'aime la grace de cette rue industrielle
Situee a Paris entre la rue Aumont-Thieville et l'avenue des
Ternes

Voila la jeune rue et tu n'es encore qu'un petit enfant
Ta mere ne t'habille que de bleu et de blanc
Tu es tres pieux et avec le plus ancien de tes camarades Rene
Dalize
Vous n'aimez rien tant que les pompes de l'Eglise
Il est neuf heures le gaz est baisse tout bleu vous sortez du
dortoir en cachette
Vous priez toute la nuit dans la           du college
Tandis qu'eternelle et adorable profondeur amethyste
Tourne a jamais la flamboyante gloire du Christ
C'est le beau lys que tous nous cultivons
C'est la torche aux cheveux roux que n'eteint pas le vent
C'est le fils pale et vermeil de la douloureuse mere
C'est l'arbre toujours touffu de toutes les prieres
C'est la double potence de l'honneur et de l'eternite
C'est l'etoile a six branches
C'est Dieu qui meurt le vendredi et ressuscite le dimanche

C'est le Christ qui monte au ciel mieux que les aviateurs
Il detient le record du monde pour la hauteur

Pupille Christ de l'oeil
Vingtieme pupille des siecles il sait y faire
Et change en oiseau ce siecle comme Jesus monte dans l'air
Les diables dans les abimes levent la tete pour le regarder
Ils disent qu'il imite Simon Mage en Judee
Ils crient s'il sait voler qu'on l'appelle voleur
Les anges voltigent autour du joli voltigeur
Icare Enoch Elie Apollonius de Thyane
Flottent autour du premier aeroplane
Ils s'ecartent parfois pour laisser passer ceux que transporte la
Sainte-Eucharistie
Ces pretres qui montent eternellement elevant l'hostie
L'avion se pose enfin sans refermer les ailes
Le ciel s'emplit alors de millions d'hirondelles
A tire-d'aile viennent les corbeaux les faucons les hiboux
D'Afrique arrivent les ibis les flamants les marabouts
L'oiseau Roc celebre par les conteurs et les poetes
Plane tenant dans les serres le crane d'Adam la premiere tete
L'aigle fond de l'horizon en poussant un grand cri
Et d'Amerique vient le petit colibri
De Chine sont venus les pihis longs et souples
Qui n'ont qu'une seule aile et qui volent par couples
Puis voici la colombe esprit immacule
Qu'escortent l'oiseau-lyre et le paon ocelle
Le phenix ce bucher qui soi-meme s'engendre
Un instant voile tout de son ardente cendre
Les sirenes laissant les perilleux detroits
Arrivent en chantant bellement toutes trois
Et tous aigle phenix et pihis de la Chine
Fraternisent avec la volante machine

Maintenant tu marches dans Paris tout seul parmi la foule
Des troupeaux d'autobus mugissants pres de toi roulent
L'angoisse de l'amour te serre le gosier
Comme si tu ne devais jamais plus etre aime
Si tu vivais dans l'ancien temps tu entrerais dans un monastere
Vous avez honte quand vous vous surprenez a dire une priere
Tu te moques de toi et comme le feu de l'Enfer ton rire petille
Les etincelles de ton rire dorent le fond de ta vie
C'est un tableau pendu dans un sombre musee
Et quelquefois tu vas le regarder de pres

Aujourd'hui tu marches dans Paris les femmes sont ensanglantees
C'etait et je voudrais ne pas m'en souvenir c'etait au declin de
la beaute

Entouree de flammes ferventes Notre-Dame m'a regarde a Chartres
Le sang de votre Sacre-Coeur m'a inonde a Montmartre
Je suis malade d'ouir les paroles bienheureuses
L'amour dont je souffre est une maladie honteuse
Et l'image qui te possede te fait survivre dans l'insomnie et dans
l'angoisse
C'est toujours pres de toi cette image qui passe

Maintenant tu es au bord de la Mediterranee
Sous les citronniers qui sont en fleur toute l'annee
Avec tes amis tu te promenes en barque
L'un est Nissard il y a un Mentonasque et deux Turbiasques
Nous regardons avec effroi les poulpes des profondeurs
Et parmi les algues nagent les poissons images du Sauveur

Tu es dans le jardin d'une auberge aux environs de Prague
Tu te sens tout heureux une rose est sur la table
Et tu observes au lieu d'ecrire ton conte en prose
La cetoine qui dort dans le coeur de la rose

Epouvante tu te vois dessine dans les agates de Saint-Vit
Tu etais triste a mourir le jour ou tu t'y vis
Tu ressembles au Lazare affole par le jour
Les aiguilles de l'horloge du quartier juif vont a rebours
Et tu recules aussi dans ta vie lentement
En montant au Hradchin et le soir en ecoutant
Dans les tavernes chanter des chansons tcheques

Te voici a Marseille au milieu des pasteques

Te voici a Coblence a l'hotel du Geant

Te voici a Rome assis sous un neflier du Japon

Te voici a Amsterdam avec une jeune fille que tu trouves belle et
qui est laide
Elle doit se marier avec un etudiant de Leyde
On y loue des chambres en latin Cubicula locanda

Je m'en souviens j'y ai passe trois jours et autant a Gouda

Tu es a Paris chez le juge d'instruction
Comme un criminel on te met en etat d'arrestation

Tu as fait de douloureux et de joyeux voyages
Avant de t'apercevoir du mensonge et de l'age
Tu as souffert de l'amour a vingt et a trente ans
J'ai vecu comme un fou et j'ai perdu mon temps

Tu n'oses plus regarder tes mains et a tous moments je voudrais
sangloter
Sur toi sur celle que j'aime sur tout ce qui t'a epouvante
Tu regardes les yeux pleins de larmes ces pauvres emigrants
Ils croient en Dieu ils prient les femmes allaitent des enfants
Ils emplissent de leur odeur le hall de la gare Saint-Lazare
Ils ont foi dans leur etoile comme les rois-mages
Ils esperent gagner de l'argent dans l'Argentine
Et revenir dans leur pays apres avoir fait fortune
Une famille transporte un edredon rouge comme vous transportez
votre coeur
Cet edredon et nos reves sont aussi irreels
Quelques-uns de ces emigrants restent ici et se logent
Rue des Rosiers ou rue des Ecouffes dans des bouges
Je les ai vus souvent le soir ils prennent l'air dans la rue
Et se deplacent rarement comme les pieces aux echecs
Il y a surtout des Juifs leurs femmes portent perruque
Elles restent assises exsangues au fond des boutiques

Tu es debout devant le zinc d'un bar crapuleux
Tu prends un cafe a deux sous parmi les malheureux

Tu es la nuit dans un grand restaurant

Ces femmes ne sont pas mechantes elles ont des soucis cependant
Toutes meme la plus laide a fait souffrir son amant

Elle est la fille d'un sergent de ville de Jersey

Ses mains que je n'avais pas vues sont dures et gercees

J'ai une pitie immense pour les coutures de son ventre

J'humilie maintenant a une pauvre fille au rire horrible ma bouche

Tu es seul le matin va venir
Les laitiers font tinter leurs bidons dans les rues

La nuit s'eloigne ainsi qu'une belle Metive
C'est Ferdine la fausse ou Lea l'attentive

Et tu bois cet alcool brulant comme ta vie
Ta vie que tu bois comme une eau-de-vie

Tu marches vers Auteuil tu veux aller chez toi a pied
Dormir parmi tes fetiches d'Oceanie et de Guinee
Ils sont des Christ d'une autre forme et d'une autre croyance
Ce sont les Christ inferieurs des obscures esperances

Adieu Adieu

Soleil cou coupe


LE PONT MIRABEAU

Sous le pont Mirabeau coule la Seine
Et nos amours
Faut-il qu'il m'en souvienne
La joie venait toujours apres la peine.
          me how to thank thee!
Then turned he round his weary eyes and saw,
And ever nigher still their faces came,
And nigher ever did their young mouths draw
Until they seemed one perfect rose of flame,
And longing arms around her neck he cast,
And felt her throbbing bosom, and his breath came hot and fast,

And all his hoarded sweets were hers to kiss,
And all her maidenhood was his to slay,
And limb to limb in long and           bliss
Their passion waxed and waned,--O why essay
To pipe again of love, too venturous reed!
Now this is very          
Forbye, he'll shape you aff, fu' gleg,
The cut of Adam's philibeg:
The knife that nicket Abel's craig
He'll prove you fully,
It was a           jocteleg,
Or lang-kail gully.
Winter Stars



I went out at night alone;
The young blood flowing beyond the sea
Seemed to have           my spirit's wings--
I bore my sorrow heavily.
Then were, in mystery,           made,
And they departed--for till night none stayed.
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"

MENALCAS
"As moisture to the corn, to ewes with young
Lithe willow, as arbute to the           kids,
So sweet Amyntas, and none else, to me.
Any           format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm
License as specified in paragraph 1.
          laws in most countries are in
a constant state of change.
Who like Ares bend until it quiver,
Bend the           bow?
Near Jerusalem, once
the city where God displayed His grace, the Divine           withdrew
from the multitude and sought retirement.
I shall
send it by a careful hand, as I would not for           it should be
mislaid or lost.
He sees
eternity less like a play with a           and denouement: he sees eternity
in men and women,--he does not see men and women as dreams or dots.
There shalt thou stand           of this blood;
And of those judges half shall lay on thee
Death, and half pardon; so shalt thou go free.
Indeed, I cannot follow with your Grace:
Rather would say--the           doth not kill
The sheep that wander from his flock, but sends
His careful dog to bring them to the fold.
I ran to the place, drained of           and colour,
And found him lifeless.
          like her, I sometime hold my tongue:
Because I would not dull you with my song.
 3494/3717