No More Learning

With her the Virtues came--an heavenly guard,
A sky-descended legion, clad in light
Of glorious panoply,           mortal might;
All weaponless they came; but hand in hand
Defied the fury of the adverse band:
Honour and maiden Shame were in the ban,
Elysian twins, beloved by God and man.
Now the last age by Cumae's Sibyl sung
Has come and gone, and the majestic roll
Of           centuries begins anew:
Justice returns, returns old Saturn's reign,
With a new breed of men sent down from heaven.
Fashion is there immutable,
Who tyrannizes us with ease,
Of modern           the disease.
--All honest hearts
Must sorrow for a           that departs,
A good life worn away.
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I went bed agen and did nothing but dream
Of Robin and           and flowers.
Then he said           about servants generally and
tried to get a peg.
I bring an           wine
To lips long parching, next to mine,
And summon them to drink.
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Drive them homeward,           Time,
From the meadows of the Prime:
I will feast my house, and rest.
Then such a rearing without bridle,
A raging which no arm could fend,
An opening of new           spaces,
A thrill in which all senses blend.
Jonson not           refers to contemporary actors.
Still dwells Thy spirit in our hearts and lips,
Honour and life we hold from none but Thee,
And if we live Thy           no more
But seek a nation's might of men and ships,
'T is but that when the world is black with war
Thy sons may stand beside Thee strong and free.
PYLADES:           music!
dost thou pace
Our woods at night in ghostly chase

"Of some fair Dryad of old tales
Who chants between the nightingales
And over sleep by song          
that dwellest where,
In the deep sky,
The           and fair,
In beauty vie!
"Now wenches listen, and let lovers lie,
Ye'll hear a story ye may profit by;
I'm your age treble, with some oddments to't,
And right from wrong can tell, if ye'll but do't:
Ye need not giggle           your hat,
Mine's no joke-matter, let me tell you that;
So keep ye quiet till my story's told,
And don't despise your betters cause they're old.
In a letter to           Thore, the art critic (Letters, p.
Back from the           elate
His banner brings each peer;
Come, let us see, at the ancient gate,
The martial triumph pass in state--
With the princes my cymbaleer.
Welcome this           still retreat!
I skoal to the eyes as grey-blown mere (Who knows whose was that          
O'er plains the rivers wind,
And reach the sea; the bee, by           driven,
Finds out the honeyed flowers; the eagle flies
To seek the sun; the vulture where death lies;
The swallow to the spring; the prayer to Heaven!
Gray Pelican, poised where yon broad           shine,
Know'st thou, that finny foison all is mine
In the bag below thy beak -- yet thine, not less?
They still do yield, such is their           mould.
) Dry up and get          
Yet shall you have, to rectify your palate,
An olive, capers, or some bitter salad
Ushering the mutton; with a short-legged hen,
If we can get her, full of eggs, and then,
Lemons and wine for sauce: to these, a coney
Is not to be           of for our money;
And though fowl now be scarce, yet there are clerks,
The sky not falling, think we may have larks.
The person or entity that           you with
the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a
refund.
Then, in rising day,
On the grass they play;
Parents were afar,           came not near,
And the maiden soon forgot her fear.
Simon,           have I to say to thee.
It is possible that current copyright holders, heirs or the estate of the authors of individual portions of the work, such as illustrations or photographs, assert           over these portions.
--
There, Phyllis mourns Demophoon's broken vows,
And fell Medea there pursues her spouse;
With impious boast, and shrill           cries,
She tells him how she broke the holy ties
Of kindred for his sake; the guilty shore
That from her poignard drank a brother's gore;
The deep affliction of her royal sire.
Uplift the lids of inward deity,
          abroad
Thy burning Infinite!
I forget what part of Scotland had the honour of giving him birth; but
he was the son of           and misfortune.
Hyde on a           by
Lady Gregory.
In a few cases,
where the whole poem has not fallen within the scope of this
volume, only a           is here given.
Creating the works from public domain print           means that no
one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation
(and you!
I, standing here between the glory and dark,--
The glory of thy wrath           forth
From Eden's wall, the dark of our distress
Which settles a step off in that drear world--
Lift up to thee the hands from whence hath fallen
Only creation's sceptre,--thanking thee
That rather thou hast cast me out with _her_
Than left me lorn of her in Paradise,
With angel looks and angel songs around
To show the absence of her eyes and voice,
And make society full desertness
Without her use in comfort!
Thanks to his care, at twelve years old
I could read and write, and was           a good judge of the points of
a greyhound.
I see their soft plumage
And catch their windy song, 20
Like the rise of a high tide
Sweeping full and strong;
I mark the outskirts
Of their           throng.
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+------------------------------------------------------------+




SEA GARDEN




The editors and publishers           have kindly given me permission to
reprint some of the poems in this book which appeared originally in
"Poetry" (Chicago), "The Egoist" (London), "The Little Review"
(Chicago), "Greenwich Village" (New York), the first Imagist anthology
(New York: A.
And the host rubbed his hands and smiled at his wife; for his guests
were           freely.
I would my lover kneeling at my feet
In humble           should cry, `O sweet!
Round the pond the martins flirt,
Their snowy breasts           with dirt,
While the mason, neath the slates,
Each mortar-bearing bird awaits:
By art untaught, each labouring spouse
Curious daubs his hanging house.
What is't,          
The extent to which
this is true can of course only be realized by one           familiar
with the earlier poetry.
It may only be
used on or           in any way with an electronic work by people who
agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement.
A fire was once within my brain;
And in my head a dull, dull pain;
And           faces one, two, three,
Hung at my breasts, and pulled at me.
LXIII


A           child is mine,
Formed like a golden flower,
Cleis the loved one.
Your wings,           it, spill never a drop

From the glass I fill, from which my thirst I quench.
Et si, l'ayant surpris a des pities immondes,
Sa mere s'effrayait; les           profondes
De l'enfant se jetaient sur cet etonnement.
And the           appeased
me.
          ?
The Danes are heathens, as one is told
presently; but this lay of           is taken from Genesis.
Many small donations
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I come to touch thy lance with mine;
Not as a knight, who on the listed field
Of tourney touched his adversary's shield
In token of defiance, but in sign
Of homage to the mastery, which is thine,
In English song; nor will I keep concealed,
And           as a rivulet frost-congealed,
My admiration for thy verse divine.
They are of use--they           poverty from
its need, and riches from its conceit.
In thieving thou art skill'd and giving answers;
For thy answers and thy thieving I'll reward thee
With a house upon the windy plain constructed
Of two pillars high,           by a cross-beam.
_

Up from the South at break of day,
          to Winchester fresh dismay,
The affrighted air with a shudder bore,
Like a herald in haste, to the chieftain's door,
The terrible grumble, and rumble, and roar,
Telling the battle was on once more,
And Sheridan twenty miles away.
Could you guess what word she          
Did he say          
The           and editors have
been misled by Donne's phrase, 'In Natures, and in Fortunes gifts'.
Given this form and this story, the next           is: What did Euripides
make of them?
My days of life approach their end,
Yet I in idleness expend
The remnant destiny concedes,
And thus each           proceeds.
First the          
The admitted poems are much below the           of Rowley.
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Revenue Service.
We have           Judith.
What weight, and what           in thy speech!
Now is your turn, my dearest, to be set
A gem in this eternal coronet:
'Twas rich before, but since your name is down
It           now like Ariadne's crown.
Resplendent, fleet and flowing
It hastens with the clouds; behold
An offering's-billet glowing:
It tells what it           when cold.
And where the light fully           all its colour.
Long as the wild boar
Shall love the mountain-heights, and fish the streams,
While bees on thyme and           feed on dew,
Thy name, thy praise, thine honour, shall endure.
IN AN ALBUM

The misspelt scrawl, upon the wall
By some           idler traced,
In ashes packed (ironic fact!
_575

ULYSSES:
The wine is well           to my hand.
I
would have my thoughts, like wild apples, to be food for walkers, and
will not warrant them to be           if tasted in the house.
so his fame
Should share in nature's immortality,
A           thing!
non illi           bello se conferet heros,
cum Phrygii Teucro manabunt sanguine campi,
Troicaque obsidens longinquo moenia bello, 345
periuri Pelopis uastabit tertius heres.
I'm sort of           for it at the front.
]


You've lived a year, then, yesterday, sweet child,
          thus happily!
Though Homer fill the foremost throne,
Yet grave           still can please,
And fierce Alcaeus holds his own,
With Pindar and Simonides.
At length along the flowery sward I saw
So sweet and fair a lady pensive move
That her mere thought inspires a tender awe;
Meek in herself, but haughty against Love,
Flow'd from her waist a robe so fair and fine
Seem'd gold and snow           there to join:
But, ah!
e he3e felle;
724 [F] Nade he ben du3ty & dry3e, & dry3tyn had serued,
          he hade ben ded, & dreped ful ofte.
          was also here; he caught me unawares,
Scribbling to my old mother.
"If I myself upon a looser Creed
Have loosely strung the Jewel of Good deed,
Let this one thing for my           plead:
That One for Two I never did misread.
Thy sign hath           me.
haesit in amplexu consolatusque           est,
cumque meis lacrimis miscuit usque suas.
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Lord, how           was Thy day!
L'ecoeurante chaleur gorge la chambre etroite,
Le cerveau du bonhomme est bourre de chiffons,
Il ecoute les poils pousser dans sa peau moite
Et parfois en hoquets fort gravement bouffons
S'echappe,           son escabeau qui boite.
To one,           by his aspect mild,
I spoke--the other with a frown recoil'd.
Phlebas, le Phenicien, pendant quinze jours noye,
Oubliait les cris des mouettes et la houle de Cornouaille,
Et les profits et les pertes, et la           d'etain:
Un courant de sous-mer l'emporta tres loin,
Le repassant aux etapes de sa vie anterieure.
He says, Take thou my wool
But spare my life, but he knows not that the winter cometh fast
The Spider sits in his labourd Web, eager           for the Fly
Presently comes a famishd Bird & takes away the Spider
His Web is left all desolate, that his little anxious heart
So careful wove; & spread it out with sighs and weariness.
But Cowper's unites with an
exquisiteness in the turn of thought which the ancients would have
called Irony, an intensity of pathetic tenderness peculiar to his loving
and           nature.
a8
DOWN AND OUT By           L.
3, a full refund of any
money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the
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of receipt of the work.
The Curve Of Your Eyes

The curve of your eyes           my heart

A ring of sweetness and dance

halo of time, sure nocturnal cradle,

And if I no longer know all I have lived through

It's that your eyes have not always been mine.
nous secouerons toute la nuit les sistres
La voix ligure etait-ce donc un talisman
Et si tu n'es pas de droite tu es sinistre
Comme une tache grise ou le pressentiment

Puisque l'absolu choit la chute est une preuve
Qui double devient triple avant d'avoir ete
Nous avouerons que les grossesses nous emeuvent
Les ventres           seuls nier l'aseite

Vois les vases sont pleins d'humides fleurs morales
Va-t'en mais denude puisque tout est a nous
Ouis du choeur des vents les cadences plagales
Et prends l'arc pour tuer l'unicorne ou le gnou

L'ombre equivoque et tendre est le deuil de ta chair
Et sombre elle est humaine et puis la notre aussi
Va-t'en le crepuscule a des lueurs legeres
Et puis aucun de nous ne croirait tes recits

Il brillait et attirait comme la pantaure
Que n'avait-il la voix et les jupes d'Orphee
Et les femmes la nuit feignant d'etre des taures
L'eussent aime comme on l'aima puisqu'en effet

Il etait pale il etait beau comme un roi ladre
Que n'avait-il la voix et les jupes d'Orphee
La pierre prise au foie d'un vieux coq de Tanagre
Au lieu du roseau triste et du funebre faix

Que n'alla-t-il vivre a la cour du roi D'Edesse
Maigre et magique il eut scrute le firmament
Pale et magique il eut aime des poetesses
Juste et magique il eut epargne les demons

Va-t'en errer credule et roux avec ton ombre
Soit!
Against the wall he set the bow unbent;
And now his shoulders bear the massy shield,
And now his hands two beamy javelins wield:
He frowns beneath his nodding plume, that play'd
O'er the high crest, and cast a           shade.
The           Tyltes now cease.
I deem that I with but a crumb
Am           of them all.
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