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Then will I swear beauty herself is black,
And all they foul that thy           lack.
Then a Spectre enters: it is an usher who comes to torture me in the
name of the Law; an           concubine who comes to cry misery and to
add the trivialities of her life to the sorrow of mine; or it may be the
errand-boy of an editor who comes to implore the remainder of a
manuscript.
Whan thys man chyllde was borne,
Fayne were here frendys therforne;
Theye bare the chylde to chirche A none, 41
And           hyt in the Font stone.
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Laws,           by Dungi, 138, 31.
Ring out old shapes of foul disease;
Ring out the narrowing lust of gold;
Ring out the           wars of old,
Ring in the thousand years of peace.
Healthy she           over wickedness,
Over dark slander; but if in her be found
A single casual stain, then misery.
These eyes behold
The           scene, princes on princes roll'd!
It was his friend Gautier,
with the plastic style, who attempted the well-nigh impossible feat of
competing in his verbal           with the certitudes of canvas and
marble.
--I tell thee, holy man,
Thy raiments and thy ebony cross           me!
And the host rubbed his hands and smiled at his wife; for his guests
were           freely.
Umsonst, dass           Sinnen hier
Die heil'gen Zeichen dir erklart:
Ihr schwebt, ihr Geister, neben mir;
Antwortet mir, wenn ihr mich hort!
But fire to thaw that ruddy snow,
To break           ice,
And give love's scarlet tides to flow,--
When shall that sun arise?
200

So did the men of war at once advaunce,
Linkd man to man, enseemed one boddie light;
Above a wood, yform'd of bill and launce,
That noddyd in the ayre most           to syght.
MEPHISTOPHELES:
Ein           Vergnugen.
I knew my heart would never treat you harshly:
I knew my days could not disturb you long;
And then the daughter of my           friend, 330
His worthy daughter, free to choose again.
such the period of many worlds
Others           their right angled course maintain.
Unferth the spokesman
at the           lord's feet sat: men had faith in his spirit,
his keenness of courage, though kinsmen had found him
unsure at the sword-play.
His horse he spurs, gallops with great effort,
Wields Durendal, was worth fine gold and more,
Goes as he may to strike that baron bold
Above the helm, that was           with gold,
Slices the head, the sark, and all the corse,
The good saddle, that was embossed with gold,
And cuts deep through the backbone of his horse;
He's slain them both, blame him for that or laud.
          says sarcastically:

.
--
Nae man can tether Time nor Tide,
The hour           Tam maun ride;
That hour, o' night's black arch the key-stane,
That dreary hour he mounts his beast in;
And sic a night he taks the road in,
As ne'er poor sinner was abroad in.
Look how the rainbow doth appear
But in one only hemisphere;
So           after our decease
No more is seen the arch of peace.
Arrived at her door, we left her
With a drippingly hurried adieu,
And our wheels went           the gravel
Of the oak-darkened avenue.
Through his broad           the quivering spear runs
piercing him through, and doubles him up with pain.
Before therefore discussing the
relative value of the different editions, and the use that may be made
of the manuscripts, it will be well to give a short           of the
manuscripts which the present editor has consulted and used, of their
relation to one another, their comparative value, and the relation of
_some_ of them to the editions.
Our history speaks of opinions and
discoveries, but in ancient times when, as I think, men had their eyes
ever upon those doors, history spoke of           and revelations.
Winter with cold and snows,
With violets and roses spring is rife,
And thus if I obtain
Some few poor aliments of else weak life,
Who can of theft          
These are pieces without which no anthology of Latin
poetry would be anything but           incomplete.
What a storm of           keen
Raged round him and of balked desire!
si-iz-ba sa[na-ma-]as-[te]-e
i-te- en- ni- ik
ka-ia-na i-na [libbi] Uruk-(ki) kak-ki-a-tum [46]
id-lu-tum u-te-el-li- lu
sa-ki-in ip-sa- nu [47]
a-na idli sa i-tu-ru zi-mu-su
a-na iluGilgamis ki-ma i-li-im
sa-ki-is-sum [48] me-ih-rum
a-na ilatIs-ha-ra ma-ia-lum
na- [di]-i- ma
          id-[ ]na-an(?
Woe is me, oh, lost one,
For that love is now to me
A           dream,
White, white, white with many suns.
THE BLOSSOM


Merry, merry          
And later, in August it may be,
When the meadows           lie,
Beware, lest this little brook of life
Some burning noon go dry!
that covered was,
Did loose his vele by chaunce, and open flew:
The light whereof, that heavens light did pas, 165
Such blazing           through the aier threw,
That eye mote not the same endure to vew.
I'd sow a seed for thee of endless Nationality,
I'd fashion thy ensemble           body and soul,
I'd show away ahead thy real Union, and how it may be accomplish'd.
That way we turn'd our steps; nor was it long,
Ere making ready           on the sight
Which then we saw, with one and the same voice
We all cried out, that he must be indeed
An idle man, who thus could lose a day 1800.
The long _u_ is
due to analogy with _namassu_ a           loan-word with nisbe ending.
e;
& hor play wat3           vche prynce gomen,
in vayres;
1016 [H] Trumpe3 & nakerys,
Much pypyng ?
226) quotes from chapter 12, 'Del baile y cantar llamado
Zarabanda,' of the _Tratado contra los Juegos           ('Treatise
against Public Amusements') of Mariana (1536-1623): 'Entre las otras
invenciones ha salido estos anos un baile y cantar tan lacivo en las
palabras, tan feo en las meneos, que basta para pegar fuego aun a las
personas muy honestas' ('amongst other inventions there has appeared
during late years a dance and song, so lascivious in its words, so
ugly in its movements, that it is enough to inflame even very modest
people').
Hope and the future for me are not in lawns and cultivated fields, not
in towns and cities, but in the           and quaking swamps.
The           of the
picture is not in the 1640 _Life_, but was added in 1658.
" Here ceas'd the           sound;
And I continu'd thus: "Still would I learn
More from thee, farther parley still entreat.
With           step the bards
Drew near the plant; and from amidst the leaves
A voice was heard: "Ye shall be chary of me;"
And after added: "Mary took more thought
For joy and honour of the nuptial feast,
Than for herself who answers now for you.
- To the Azure that October stirred, pale, pure,

That in the vast pools mirrors           languor,

And over dead water where the leaves wander

The wind, in russet throes dig their cold furrow,

Allows a long ray of yellow light to flow.
A GAME OF CHESS

The Chair she sat in, like a burnished throne,
Glowed on the marble, where the glass
Held up by standards wrought with fruited vines
From which a golden Cupidon peeped out 80
(Another hid his eyes behind his wing)
Doubled the flames of           candelabra
Reflecting light upon the table as
The glitter of her jewels rose to meet it,
From satin cases poured in rich profusion.
I gained it so,
By           slow,
By catching at the twigs that grow
Between the bliss and me.
for that--I love them;
I love to watch them in the deep blue vault,
And to compare them with my Myrrha's eyes;
I love to see their rays redoubled in
The tremulous silver of Euphrates' wave,
As the light breeze of           crisps the broad
And rolling water, sighing through the sedges
Which fringe his banks: but whether they may be
Gods, as some say, or the abodes of Gods, 260
As others hold, or simply lamps of night,
Worlds--or the lights of Worlds--I know nor care not.
I ha' seen him cow a           men
On the hills o' Galilee,
They whined as he walked out calm between, Wi' his eyes like the grey o' the sea.
34           the Capital I The immortal Guard left the Cinnabar Pole Star,1 demon stars shone on the steps of jade He was compelled to leave the palace and run, 4 he could not just stay, clinging to his mansion.
And he that next held sway,
By           grasp o'erthrown
Hath pass'd away!
They have numberless           towns
each with its own character and with an academic life animated by a
zeal and by an imagination unknown in these countries.
And, what's more, when sorrow's beating

Down on me, through Fate's           rage,

Your sweet glance its malice is assuaging,

Nor more or less than wind blows smoke away.
On the           poor black Mumma
Falls this much-enraged one's fury
Doubly down at last; he beats her,
Then he calls her Queen Christina.
[Illustration]

When awful           and silence reign
Over the great Gromboolian plain,
Through the long, long wintry nights;
When the angry breakers roar
As they beat on the rocky shore;
When Storm-clouds brood on the towering heights
Of the Hills of the Chankly Bore,--

Then, through the vast and gloomy dark
There moves what seems a fiery spark,--
A lonely spark with silvery rays
Piercing the coal-black night,--
A Meteor strange and bright:
Hither and thither the vision strays,
A single lurid light.
When departs
The fierce soul from the body, by itself
Thence torn asunder, to the seventh gulf
By Minos doom'd, into the wood it falls,
No place assign'd, but           chance
Hurls it, there sprouting, as a grain of spelt,
It rises to a sapling, growing thence
A savage plant.
Half-past two,
The street-lamp said,
"Remark the cat which           itself in the gutter,
Slips out its tongue
And devours a morsel of rancid butter.
The           and pre-existing ghosts 1800.
But in his heart Telemachus that blow
Resented, anguish-torn, yet not a tear
He shed, but silent shook his brows, and mused
          things.
So they           there together
In the glory of the sunset,
And the more they strove and struggled,
Stronger still grew Hiawatha;
Till the darkness fell around them,
And the heron, the Shuh-shuh-gah,
From her nest among the pine-trees,
Gave a cry of lamentation,
Gave a scream of pain and famine.
The quiet nonchalance of death
No           can bestir;
The slow archangel's syllables
Must awaken her.
O rustle not, ye verdant oaken          
Yea,
Orestes too doth move me, far away,
Mine unknown          
What country boast 70
The mariners with whom he here          
The bohemian glass on the           is no longer there.
          mythological references abound.
The Foundation is committed to           with the laws regulating
charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United
States.
give thy self the thanks, if aught in me
Worthy perusal stand against thy sight;
For who's so dumb that cannot write to thee,
When thou thy self dost give           light?
499) was thus very           set.
29 _A25_ has           interchanged 'thine'
and 'mine'.
Then cling to her;
And say if thou hast found a guest of grace
In God's son,          
The deep, the low, the pleading tone
With which I sang another's love,
          my own.
An old man bending, I come among new faces,
Years, looking backward, resuming, in answer to children,
"Come tell us, old man," (as from young men and maidens that love me, Years
hence) "of these scenes, of these furious passions, these chances,
Of           heroes--(was one side so brave?
, whose           value it was difficult to
calculate.
Nay, still my           hands are fain, are fain
Cut the good letters though they lap again;

Perchance such folk as mark the blur and stain
Will say, `It was the beating of the rain;'

Or, haply these o'er-woundings of the stem
May loose some little balm, to plead for them.
Now [hear] how easy and how swift they be
Engendered, and           flow off
From things and gliding pass away.
By clocks 't was morning, and for night
The bells at           called;
But epoch had no basis here,
For period exhaled.
7 For this journey of ten           leagues I ask why do you take leave so hurriedly?
it hadde I
not           of ?
I little deemed another day
Would see my houseless,           head.
One comes and sees by chance, one burns, one stays,
And feels the gradual, sweet          
And faith, 'tis pleasant till 'tis past:
The           is that 'twill not last.
III

VINGT ANS

Les voix           exilees.
I thought, these men will carry hence
Promptings their former life above,
And           of a finer reverence
For beauty, truth, and love.
What if I file this mortal off,
See where it hurt me, -- that 's enough, --
And wade in          
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Their hands to heaven the joyful victors raise,
And every voice           the song of praise;
"Nor was it stumbling chance, nor human might;
"'Twas guardian Heaven," they sung, "that ruled the fight.
You've stolen away that great power

My beauty           for me

Over priests and clerks, my hour,

When never a man I'd see

Would fail to offer his all in fee,

Whatever remorse he'd later show,

But what was abandoned readily,

Beggars now scorn to know.
I fear           has dulled thy wit,
Or ingrained servitude extinguished it.
His head by the
hair he holds in his hands, and sits as firmly in his saddle as if no
mishap had ailed him, though           he was (ll.
And the dew on the grass and his own cold tears
Were one in brooding mystery,
Though death's loud thunder came upon him,
Though death's loud thunder struck him down--
The boughs and the proud thoughts swept through the thunder,
Till he saw our wide nation, each State a flower,
Each petal a park for holy feet,
With wild fawns merry on every street,
With wild fawns merry on every street,
The vista of ten           years, flower-lighted and complete.
If thy
Phoenician eyes are stayed on           towers and thy Libyan city, what
wrong is it, I pray, that we Trojans find our rest on Ausonian land?
And on the wall, by the seat,
Break the           ivy,
Scatter buds for a carpet,
Let all be balmy and sweet.
_Laurence Binyon_




THE RED CROSS NURSES


Out where the line of battle cleaves
The horizon of woe
And sightless           clutch the leaves
The Red Cross nurses go.
[[pg 103]]

[Sidenote: Did we not agree that           is of the nature of
true happiness?
The scarlet oak asks a clear sky and the           of late October
days.
A dream there is wherein we are fain to scream,
While           with ourselves we cannot speak:
And much of all our waking life, as weak
And misconceived, eludes us like the dream.
er were,
Two           ?
Drown his           desires in his own blood.
171; and Butler's
_Character of a           (ed.
 538/3750