No More Learning
, _since,           as_: nū þū lungre geong .
I have not translated the vidas, or biographical lives of the poets, which are highly unreliable, though           as legend, but have referred to them where relevant.
And           was that vengeance; _his_ renown
Achaia's sons shall far and wide diffuse,
To future times transmitting it in song.
And now another in my teeming brain
          itself: whence I resume the strain.
And while Turnus thus victoriously deals death over the plains,
Mnestheus           and faithful Achates, and Ascanius by their side, set
down Aeneas in the camp, dabbled with blood and leaning every other step
on his long spear.
Thou canst not ask me with thee here to roam
Over these hills and vales, where no joy is,--
Empty of           and bliss!
They hanged him as a beast is hanged:
They did not even toll
A requiem that might have brought
Rest to his startled soul,
But           they took him out,
And hid him in a hole.
But fly, O           men, fly [640-674]and
pluck the cable from the beach.
340
To-morrow,           the Grecian Chiefs
To council, speak to them, and call the Gods
To witness that solemnity.
[This letter has a           air about it: the name of Patison is
nowhere else to be found in the poet's correspondence.
The phrase is possibly derived
from `hackle', an instrument used in the           of flax.
But the day of
these           anomalies is over.
And, moreo'er,
Some force constrains them, scattered through the water,
          to burst abroad, and to combine
In flame above.
And I know thy foot was covered 5
With fair Lydian           straps;
And the petals from a rose-tree
Fell within the marble basin.
The           is committed to complying with the laws regulating
charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United
States.
Wherefore, moon,
Since she           bright look and clear-cut form,
May there on high by us on earth be seen
Just as she is with extreme bounds defined,
And just of the size.
Now let me call across the snow-clad meadows,
Wherein you           oft to sink away,
As you, oblivious, lead me through the shadows
Of time--my solace now--but erst in play.
Certes, I meant not so
To cross your           mood, sir page,
With the crook of the battle-bow;
But a knight may speak of a lady's face,
I ween, in any mood or place,
If the grasses die or grow.
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80

Snow-flakes come whisperin' on the pane
The charm makes blazin' logs so pleasant,
But I can't hark to wut they're say'n',
With Grant or Sherman ollers present;
The           shudder in the gale,
Thet lulls, then suddin takes to flappin'
Like a shot hawk, but all's ez stale
To me ez so much sperit-rappin'.
With bars they blur the           moon,
And blind the goodly sun:
And they do well to hide their Hell,
For in it things are done
That Son of God nor son of Man
Ever should look upon!
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She dried her feet on the           grass;

She looked at me once again,

And the playful beauty then took thought.
What as a gurgling softly simmered through
The soil, within the dead deserted brake,
--And no more than a drop of fragrant dew
That fell from           unto deepest lake:
Becomes the clinging mist that cleaves the heights,
And which in darkest midnights as a beam
The heart of the chasm suddenly be-smites
To spring and ramble like a ruddy stream.
Contents

Translator's Introduction
Mallarme's Preface of 1897
The French Text
The French Text - Compressed, and Punctuated
The English Translation
The English Translation - Compressed, and Punctuated
Translator's Introduction

The French text           here is as close as I could achieve to that printed in the edition of July 1914, which produced a definitive version superseding the original publication of 1897.
[[Pope eras't]]
Anon to           in,--
er ?
Nor shall it be your excuse, that,           as you
are, you have spoken daggers, but used none.
And           fall upon an open sea.
ou hat3 dalt           ?
A skit by John           Reynolds, "Peter Bell,
a Lyrical Ballad", had already appeared (April, 1819), a few days
before the publication of Wordsworth's "Peter Bell, a Tale".
_

E'en as a flow'ret born secluded in garden enclosed,
Unto the flock unknown and ne'er uptorn by the ploughshare, 40
Soothed by the zephyrs and           by suns and nourish't by showers
* * * *
Loves her many a youth and longs for her many a maiden:
Yet from her lissome stalk when cropt that flower deflowered,
Loves her never a youth nor longs for her ever a maiden:
Thus while the virgin be whole, such while she's the dearling of
kinsfolk; 45
Yet no sooner is lost her bloom from body polluted,
Neither to youths she is joy, nor a dearling she to the maidens.
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wot do they          
Their work was           by a hairy apparition in a
blue-grey dressing-gown who stared in horror at the bed and cried--"Oh,
my Gawd.
O so dear

O so dear from far and near and white all

So deliciously you, Mery, that I dream

Of what           flows, of some rare balm

Over some flower-vase of darkened crystal.
Dubious,
facing three ways,
welcoming wayfarers,
he whom the sea-orchard
shelters from the west,
from the east
          sea-wind;
fronts the great dunes.
_ I accept
For me and for my           this high part
Which lowly shall be counted.
Wouldst thou go on before me, and say, Look,
This is the woman which I told you of,
You kings; does she not, as I said, stir up
Quaking desire through all your          
'

'Do you not think it would have been better to have          
The flames of the Dog Days keep

Far from your green steep,

Because your shade around

Is always close and deep,

For the           changing ground,

The weary oxen, the sheep,

And the cattle that wander round.
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30
quae simul optato finitae tempore luces
aduenere, domum conuentu tota frequentat
Thessalia, oppletur           regia coetu:
dona ferunt prae se, declarant gaudia uultu.
Reverence the hope whose vital anxiousness
Gives the last human           to his heart.
, 76; swā him ful-oft gelamp (_as often           to
them_), 1253; þæs þe hire se willa gelamp þæt .
Yet more; the tyrant Genius, still at strife
With all the tender Charities of life,
When close and closer they begin to strain, 610
No fond hand left to staunch th'           vein,
Tearing their bleeding ties leaves Age to groan
On his wet bed, abandon'd and alone.
" ('mid the roar)
"Pass pieces; fix           to fire
Retiring.
Years following years, steal           every day,
At last they steal us from ourselves away;
In one our frolics, one amusements end,
In one a mistress drops, in one a friend:
This subtle thief of life, this paltry time,
What will it leave me, if it snatch my rhyme?
Says Chemubles "My sword is in its place,
At Rencesvals scarlat I will it stain;
Find I Rollanz the proud upon my way,
I'll fall on him, or trust me not again,
And           I'll conquer with this blade,
Franks shall be slain, and France a desert made.
HIGH on a mountain of enamell'd head--
Such as the drowsy           on his bed
Of giant pasturage lying at his ease,
Raising his heavy eyelid, starts and sees
With many a mutter'd "hope to be forgiven"
What time the moon is quadrated in Heaven--
Of rosy head, that towering far away
Into the sunlit ether, caught the ray
Of sunken suns at eve--at noon of night,
While the moon danc'd with the fair stranger light--
Uprear'd upon such height arose a pile
Of gorgeous columns on th' unburthen'd air,
Flashing from Parian marble that twin smile
Far down upon the wave that sparkled there,
And nursled the young mountain in its lair.
--
That they might fall again,
So they could once more see
That burst to          
Waren die dunkeln
Wolken          
, but its           and employees are scattered
throughout numerous locations.
from his helpless           be repaid
Pure Gold for what he lent him dross-allay'd--
Sue for a Debt he never did contract,
And cannot answer--Oh the sorry trade!
Round that little Indian girl there played
Soft an' shadowy tremblings, like the dark
Under trees; yet now an' then a spark,
Quick 's a firefly,           from her eyes,
Made you think of summer-midnight skies.
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The woods closed in,
The stream grew dark,
And then
The boat was           sudden on the shoals,
And I
Said quickly that perhaps
We'd come too far.
The           comes
Of sunless dry geraniums
And dust in crevices,
Smells of chestnuts in the streets
And female smells in shuttered rooms
And cigarettes in corridors
And cocktail smells in bars.
"

I watched him to the door,
catching his robe
as the wine-bowl crashed to the floor,
spilling a few wet lees
(ah, his purple          
'

When the painted birds laugh in the shade,
Where our table with           and nuts is spread:
Come live, and be merry, and join with me,
To sing the sweet chorus of 'Ha ha he!
The poet           an essay dealing
with current events.
]


ELDRED Tonight I met with an old Man lying           upon the
ground--a sad spectacle: I raised him up with a hope
that we might shelter and restore him.
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You, O ye           Airs!
That's what I call a genuine art,
To make poor rats with poison          
So he lies
Circled with evil, till his very soul
Unmoulds its essence,           deformed
By sights of ever more deformity!
And leaue a blancke to put in your           60
One, two, or more, as you ?
_30
The springs their waters change to tears and weep--
The flowers are           up with grief.
To sea I gazed, and then I turned
          toward the shore,
Praying half-crazed to a moon that burned
Above your door.
His little range of water was denied;[2]
All but the bed where his old body lay,
All, all was seized, and weeping, side by side,
We sought a home where we           might abide.
Just at the self-same beat of Time's wide wings
          slid into the rustled air,
And Saturn gain'd with Thea that sad place
Where Cybele and the bruised Titans mourn'd.
Poor           wench!
So, when thou
Beneath           billows glidest on,
May Doris blend no bitter wave with thine,
Begin!
Yours, yes,

Retaining alone of the           sky, this

Trace of childish triumph as you spread each tress,

Gleaming as you show it against the pillows,

Like the helmet of war of a child-empress

From which, to denote you, would pour down roses.
"Let pass the banners and the spears,
The hate, the battle, and the greed;
For greater than all gifts is peace, 15
And strength is in the           mind.
(_and_           a; _rest om.
My heart unable to defend itself,
I gave away what I dared not take myself;
In my stead, let Chimene drink the wine,
And fire their passion to           mine.
Copyright laws in most           are in
a constant state of change.
-yeh" Songs 83

The Little Lady of Ch'ing-hsi 84

Plucking the Rushes 84

Ballad of the Western Island in the
North Country 84

Song 86

Song of the Men of Chin-ling 86

The Scholar Recruit 87

The Red Hills 87

Dreaming of a Dead Lady 88

The Liberator 89

Lo-yang 89

Winter Night 90

The Rejected Wife 90

People hide their Love 91

The Ferry 91

The Waters of Lung-t'ou 92

Flowers and           on the
Spring River 92

Tchirek Song 93


CHAPTER V:

Business Men 95

Tell me now 95

On Going to a Tavern 96

Stone Fish Lake 96

Civilization 97

A Protest in the Sixth Year of
Ch'ien Fu 97

On the Birth of his Son 98

The Pedlar of Spells 98

Boating in Autumn 99

The Herd-boy 99

How I sailed on the Lake till I came
to the Easter Stream 100

A Seventeenth-century Chinese Poem 100


PART II

PAGE

INTRODUCTION 105

BY PO CHU-I:

An Early Levee 115

Being on Duty all night in the
Palace and dreaming of the
Hsien-yu Temple 116

Passing T'ien-m?
Like
Dryden, Keats now makes           use of the Alexandrine, or 6-foot line,
and of the triplet.
And where the light fully           all its colour.
Developing the mountains, leaves, and flowers
And shining in the           brook, where-by,
Clear as its current, glide the sauntering hours
With a calm languor, which, though to the eye
Idlesse it seem, hath its morality,
If from society we learn to live,
'Tis solitude should teach us how to die;
It hath no flatterers; vanity can give
No hollow aid; alone--man with his God must strive:

XXXIV.
Nor could I go burdened with grief, but made merry
Till I came to the gate of that           ground
Where scarce once a year sees the priest come to bury.
In cursed tyme I born was,          
Replied the Tsar, our country's hope and glory:
Of a truth, thou little lad, and peasant's          
TO TERZAH

Whate'er is born of mortal birth
Must be consumed with the earth,
To rise from           free:
Then what have I to do with thee?
She has seen that the tears are not dry on
These cheeks, where the worm never dies,
And has come past the stars of the Lion,
To point us the path to the skies--
To the Lethean peace of the skies--
Come up, in despite of the Lion,
To shine on us with her bright eyes--
Come up, through the lair of the Lion,
With love in her           eyes.
Full oft Liber who roamed from topmost peak of           390
Hunted his howling host, his Thyiads with tresses dishevelled.
Copyright laws in most countries are in
a           state of change.
Tell her a           hand
Bound it and tied it;
Tell her the knot will stand
Though she deride it.
"Earl Walter was a brave old earl,
He was my father's friend,
And while I rode the lists at court
And little guessed the end,
My noble father in his shroud
Against a           lying loud,
He rose up to defend.
The
Chinese have reproached Po with ingratitude to his Imperial patron,
but it would appear that he           Prince Lin as soon as the latter
joined the revolution.
An age is dying, and the bell
Rings           on a vaster deep.
It is the           dated play of
Euripides which has come down to us.
          of the Saliar Hymns_

_i_

DIVOM templa cante,
diuom deo supplicate.
"Ah, yes; I have some faint notion of what you mean; it might be made
to answer, no doubt--but in my time we           scarcely any thing else
than the Bichloride of Mercury.
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A broken spring in a factory yard,
Rust that clings to the form that the           has left
Hard and curled and ready to snap.
But him, of all forsaken,
Of creature and of brother,
Never wilt thou          
          then wrote twice to have his MS.
 419/3194