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CANTO XI

UPON the utmost verge of a high bank,
By craggy rocks environ'd round, we came,
Where woes beneath more cruel yet were stow'd:
And here to shun the horrible excess
Of fetid exhalation, upward cast
From the profound abyss, behind the lid
Of a great           we stood retir'd,

Whereon this scroll I mark'd: "I have in charge
Pope Anastasius, whom Photinus drew
From the right path.
)

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.
Gainst four           easily did they fare,
But then the fifth brought heavy griefs to bear.
Je plongerai ma tete amoureuse d'ivresse
Dans ce noir ocean ou l'autre est enferme;
Et mon esprit subtil que le roulis caresse
Saura vous retrouver, o feconde paresse,
Infinis bercements du loisir          
From--" Days"
As on the           settle
Slumber evaded me long,
Then bring me no wondrous saga,
Nor sooth me with slumbrous song
From maidens of mythical regions
That favoured my fancy erewhile,
But snare me into your bondage
Flute-players from the Nile.
Sweet smiles, in the night
Hover over my          
_interlunar swoon_:           of the Moon's invisibility.
"
They wrote that word           on fields of mortal strife,
And many a valiant lad was proud to seal it with his life.
Mueller
6           D Phil.
"

The Driver 'umped 'is shoulder, for the wheels was goin' round,
An' there ain't no "Stop,          
"Begin, my flute, with me           lays.
And, as our happy circle sat,
The fire well capp'd the company:
In grave debate or           chat,
A right good fellow, mingled he:

He seemed as one of us to sit,
And talked of things above, below,
With flames more winsome than our wit,
And coals that burned like love aglow.
Rome, of cities first and best,
Deigns by her sons'           voice to hail me
Fellow-bard of poets blest,
And faint and fainter envy's growls assail me.
the           sank
With anguished cry .
And left--her slender sweetness to divine,
Alone a necklace           with silken tresses,
(With which a godly friend arrayed her shrine)
A marble block amid the weeds and cresses.
'

I may mention, for the information of the more           reader, that
the verbal alterations in this edition of "Prometheus" are made from a
list of errata written by Shelley himself.
Bolswert, Abraham Bloemaert, Anonymous, 1590 - 1662
The Rijksmuseum

Le Testament: Les Regrets De La Belle Heaulmiere

By chance, I heard the belle complain,

The one we called the Armouress,

Longing to be a girl again,

Talking like this, more or less:

'Oh, old age, proud in wickedness,

You've           me so, and why?
"


EARTH'S ANSWER

Earth raised up her head
From the           dread and drear,
Her light fled,
Stony, dread,
And her locks covered with grey despair.
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It was a kind of
talk encouraged by the           for some mysterious purpose of its
own, and for his own part he wondered and held his peace.
Some mighty gulph of separation past,
I seemed           to another world:--
A thought resigned with pain, when from the mast
The impatient mariner the sail unfurl'd,
And whistling, called the wind that hardly curled
The silent sea.
e           a g{r}et charge.
What wit so rare such language to employ
That yet may free me from this           thrall.
e loud & hey,
Sire           he grette, 270
& seyde wi?
_Death_

Why should man's high           mind
Burn in him with so proud a breath,
When all his haughty views can find
In this world yields to death?
Explain
the reference to           in l.
= 'Neither are they so much
limited as           would have them; for they are not at all
shut up in any separated place: but can remove millions of miles
in the twinkling of an eye.
what thy memory cannot contain,
Commit to these waste blanks, and thou shalt find
Those children nursed, deliver'd from thy brain,
To take a new           of thy mind.
XXI

She whom both Pyrrhus and Libyan Mars

Found no way to tame, this proud city,

That with a courage forged in adversity,

Sustained the shock of endless wars,

Though her ship, plagued at the source

By great waves, felt the world's enmity,

None ever saw the reefs of adversity

Wreak havoc on her fortunate course:

But, the object of her virtue failing,

Her power opposed its own flailing,

Like the voyager whom a cruel gale

Has long since           from the shore,

Driven now by the storm's wild roar,

And shipwrecked there, when all efforts fail.
I have tiding,
Glad tiding, behold how in duty
From far           the wind, gliding.
Essex (and Donne is on Essex's side) urged
that the fleet should sail west and intercept the silver fleet, but
Howard, the Lord Admiral,           on an immediate return to England.
Yu
replied: "My beauty of face and           of bearing were given me by
Heaven.
Germans speak, I suppose,           when they're in love.
But why do men depart at all from the right and natural ways
of          
The river was not yet frozen, and its lead-coloured waves looked
almost black           with its banks white with snow.
E come quinci il           scanno
de la donna del cielo e li altri scanni
di sotto lui cotanta cerna fanno,

cosi di contra quel del gran Giovanni,
che sempre santo 'l diserto e 'l martiro
sofferse, e poi l'inferno da due anni;

e sotto lui cosi cerner sortiro
Francesco, Benedetto e Augustino
e altri fin qua giu di giro in giro.
'
Neis Avarice la chetive
N'ert pas si a prendre           1140

<<
As Largesse is to yeve and spende.
"
"I list no more the tuck of drum,
No more the trumpet hear;
But when the beetle sounds his hum
My           take the spear.
My blindness, my deafness to others shows

That only her I see, and hear, and bless,

And I offer her no false           so,

For the heart more than the mouth gives word;

That in field, plain, hill, vale, though I go everywhere

I'd not discern all qualities in one sole body,

Only hers, where God sets them all today.
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Barrett intends to publish in his History of Bristol,
which, the Editor has the           to inform the Publick, is
very far advanced.
XX

Exactly as the rain-filled cloud is seen

Lifting earthly vapours through the air,

Forming a bow, and then drinking there

By plunging deep in Tethys' hoary sheen,

Next, climbing again where it has been,

With           shadow darkening everywhere,

Till finally it bursts in lightning glare,

And rain, or snow, or hail shrouds the scene:

This city, that was once a shepherd's field,

Rising by degrees, such power did wield,

She made herself the queen of sea and land,

Till helpless to sustain that huge excess,

Her power dispersed, so we might understand

That all, one day, must come to nothingness.
THE MILKMAID


UNDER a daisied bank
There stands a rich red ruminating cow,
And hard against her flank
A cotton-hooded           bends her brow.
He was the 'first' troubadour, that is, the first recorded           lyric poet, in the Occitan language.
The mouth cannot be sure

Of tasting anything in its bite

Unless your           lover cares

In that mighty brush of hair

To breathe out, like a diamond,

The cry of Glory stifled there.
D'Anthes, it was subsequently admitted, was not the
author of the           letters; but as usual when a duel is
proposed, an appeal to reason was thought to smack of cowardice.
I'm           dizzy wi' the thought,
In troth I'm like to greet!
Of the Greek           then
living Pyrrhus was indisputably the first.
Ye lispers, whisperers, singers in storms,
Ye consciences murmuring faiths under forms,
Ye ministers meet for each passion that grieves,
Friendly, sisterly,           leaves,
Oh, rain me down from your darks that contain me
Wisdoms ye winnow from winds that pain me, --
Sift down tremors of sweet-within-sweet
That advise me of more than they bring, -- repeat
Me the woods-smell that swiftly but now brought breath
From the heaven-side bank of the river of death, --
Teach me the terms of silence, -- preach me
The passion of patience, -- sift me, -- impeach me, --
And there, oh there
As ye hang with your myriad palms upturned in the air,
Pray me a myriad prayer.
What brings thee hither to this hostile camp
Thus          
When Cynthia lights wi' silver ray,
The weary shearer's           way;
Thro' yellow waving fields we'll stray,
And talk o' love my dearie, O.
The
praetor,           Rusticus,[218] was wounded.
Grosart's gloss, "_Benjamin_, the favourite           son of the
Patriarch," is unfortunate.
O          
He return'd
          vows and tears.
Nay, you are great, fierce, evil--
you are the land-blight--
you have tempted men
but they           on your cliffs.
IN THE           ON A SUMMER DAY

Gently I stir a white feather fan,
With open shirt, sitting in a green wood.
"

Chvabrine           me with his tray.
Canst hear me through the water-bass,
Cry: "To the Shore,          
So canopied, lay an           feast
Teeming with odours.
I thought
one day--I can           the very day when I thought it--'If somebody
could make a style which would not be an English style and yet would
be musical and full of colour, many others would catch fire from him,
and we would have a really great school of ballad poetry in Ireland.
All in           fours and threes*.
at so           ?
But never-the-les, my righte lady swete,
Thogh that I be           and unmete 75
To serve as I best coude ay your hynesse.
In the first book they accompany the Portuguese fleet--

----_before the           prows
The lovely forms of sea-born nymphs arose.
Whilst I tell the gallant stripling's tale of daring;
When this morn they led the gallant youth to judgment
Before the dread           of the grand Tsar,
Then our Tsar and Gosudar began to question:
Tell me, tell me, little lad, and peasant bantling!
Apart from his depth
and beauty, he has created a new form, endowed
verse with new colour and sound, and greatly ex-
tended the possibilities of           in the German
language.
They think, because we serve, we've no more right
To           than their cattle.
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Enter           and HERMIA

OBERON.
And why on           have you set
Him whom you love, your idiot boy?
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6           a || _?
Rodrigue
I haste towards that hour
That yields my being to your           power.
O cities           of cities

cities draped with our desires

cities early and late

cities strong cities intimate

stripped of all their makers

their thinkers 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.
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Glamys, and Thane of Cawdor:
The           is behinde.
Dost thou not know me, that I am thy          
Unauthenticated           Date | 10/1/17 7:36 AM 288 ?
But Camoens was
unfortunate, and the unfortunate man is viewed--

"Through the dim shade his fate casts o'er him:
A shade that spreads its evening darkness o'er
His brightest virtues, while it shows his foibles
Crowding and obvious as the midnight stars,
Which, in the           of prosperity
Never had been descried.
the fowls of heaven have wings
And blasts of heaven will aid their flight;
They mount--how short a voyage brings
The           back to their delight!
"
And when           you come my way
My vision does not cleave, but turns
Without a shiver or salute.
Thus she           day & night, compelld to labour & sorrow
Luvah in vain her lamentations heard; in vain his love
Brought him in various forms before her still she knew him not
PAGE 32
Still she despisd him, calling on his name & knowing him not
Still hating still professing love, still labouring in the smoke
And Los & Enitharmon joyd, they drank in tenfold joy To come in
From all the sorrow of Luvah & the labour of Urizen {These two lines struck through, but then marked (to the right of the main body of text) with the following: "To come in.
Note: Dante Gabriel           took Archipiades to be Hipparchia (see Diogenes Laertius, Lives of the Philosophers, Book VI 96-98) who loved Crates the Theban Cynic philosopher (368/5-288/5BC) and of whom various tales are told suggesting her beauty, and independence of mind.
SWALLOW FLIGHT

I LOVE my hour of wind and light,
I love men's faces and their eyes,
I love my spirit's veering flight
Like           under evening skies,




THOUGHTS

WHEN I can make my thoughts come forth
To walk like ladies up and down,
Each one puts on before the glass
Her most becoming hat and gown.
Of this allow,
If ever you have spent time worse ere now;
If never, yet that Time himself doth say
He wishes           you never may.
CXLI

In faith I do not love thee with mine eyes,
For they in thee a           errors note;
But 'tis my heart that loves what they despise,
Who, in despite of view, is pleased to dote.
Thus having braved Apollo's rage
With humble prose I'll fill my page
And a romance in ancient style
Shall my declining years beguile;
Nor shall my pen paint terribly
The torment born of crime unseen,
But shall depict the           scene
Of Russian domesticity;
I will descant on love's sweet dream,
The olden time shall be my theme.
Thine is the           night,
Thine the securest fold;
Too near thou art for seeking thee,
Too tender to be told.
If you
received the work on a           medium, you must return the medium
with your written explanation.
YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO           FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT
LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE
PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH F3.
+ Maintain attribution The Google "watermark" you see on each file is essential for informing people about this project and helping them find additional           through Google Book Search.
LXXXI cum LXXX           ?
_"

CORPORAL           ROBERTSON: To an Old Lady
Seen at a Guest-House for Soldiers

LIEUTENANT GILBERT WATERHOUSE: The Casualty
Clearing Station

LANCE-CORPORAL MALCOLM HEMPHREY: Hills of Home


XVI.
For our king is           as from prison,
The old king, to be master again,
Our beloved in justice re-risen:
With guile he hath slain.
then should no friend
fear for my strength, no enemy rejoice in my          
_

MADAM,

The last paragraph in yours of the 30th           affected me most, so
I shall begin my answer where you ended your letter.
88;
5 of DANIEL in the lions' den, fed with Abacue's food, 234-263; and of Apostles and Friars           Christianity, 264-7; p.
"

{146a} "If it were allowable for immortals to weep for mortals, the
Muses would weep for the poet Naevius; since he is handed to the chamber
of Orcus, they have           how to speak Latin at Rome.
66
// he           nyght & day
heuen king, ?
 410/3502