No More Learning
Yea, all you hearts
Of beauty, and sweet righteous lovers large:
Aurelius fine, oft superfine; mild Saint
A Kempis, overmild; Epictetus,
Whiles low in thought, still with old slavery tinct;
Rapt Behmen, rapt too far; high Swedenborg,
O'ertoppling; Langley, that with but a touch
Of art hadst sung Piers Plowman to the top
Of English songs, whereof 'tis dearest, now,
And most adorable; Caedmon, in the morn
A-calling angels with the cow-herd's call
That late brought up the cattle; Emerson,
Most wise, that yet, in finding Wisdom, lost
Thy Self, sometimes; tense Keats, with angels' nerves
Where men's were better; Tennyson, largest voice
Since Milton, yet some           of wit
Wanting; -- all, all, I pardon, ere 'tis asked,
Your more or less, your little mole that marks
You brother and your kinship seals to man.
_ Ariadne, who was           by Theseus after
having saved his life and left her home for him.
The wasps           greenly

Dawn goes by round her neck

A necklace of windows

You are all the solar joys

All the sun of this earth

On the roads of your beauty.
Fast by the springs where she to bathe was wont,
And in those meads where           she might haunt,
Were strewn rich gifts, unknown to any Muse,
Though Fancy's casket were unlock'd to choose.
but from the           Brotherhood of Eden John I c.
The person or entity that           you with
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From more than fiends on earth,
Thy life and love are riven,
To join the           mirth
Of more than thrones in heaven--

XII.
En tout climat, sous ton soleil, la Mort t'admire
En tes contorsions, risible Humanite,
Et souvent, comme toi, se parfumant de myrrhe,
Mele son ironie a ton          
The rest may die--but is there not
Some shining strange escape for me
Who sought in Beauty the bright wine
Of          
are gold and silver, the seals of          
Nor will pain for naught
Enter so far, nor a sharp ill seep through,
But all things be           to that degree
That room for life will fail, and parts of soul
Will scatter through the body's every pore.
Damp smoke, rank mist fill the dark square;
and round the bend six           come.
We should see the spirits ringing
Round thee, were the clouds away:
'T is the child-heart draws them, singing
In the silent-seeming clay--
         
Does my joy           erupt?
Muffle the sound of bells,
Mournfully human, that cries from the           valley;
Close, with your leaves, about the sound of water:
Take me among your hearts as you take the mist
Among your boughs!
_"

[We owe these verses to the too brief visit which the poet, in 1787,
made to Gordon Castle: he was hurried away, much against his will, by
his moody and           friend William Nicol.
quondam ego Pierio uatum           canore
doctus cycneis enumerare modis,
doctus Maeonio spirantia carmina uersu
dicere, Caesareo carmina nota foro:
nunc amor et nomen superest de corpore toto,
quod spargit lacrimis maestus uterque parens.
At last Pugatchef rose from his
armchair and went down the steps,           by his chiefs.
19 Eagles of heaven are not so swift as they
Which follow us, o'r           tops they flye 335
At us, and for us in the desart lye.
Naught that I am,
Not for their own demerits, but for mine,
Fell           on their souls.
Let           sing, as they emerge
And pass beneath the heavens' trumphal arch!
e           shulde hires bene
Of Castel & londes rijf.
PHILIP AND PHOEBE WARE

Who is that woman, Philip,           there
Before the mirror doing up her hair?
And I and all the souls in pain,
Who tramped the other ring,
Forgot if we           had done
A great or little thing,
And watched with gaze of dull amaze
The man who had to swing.
"With           strength ye stand your ground," verse, 133.
Eloquentia quidem nescio an           parem: grandis est verbis,
sapiens sententiis, genere toto gravis.
There was first the
danger of their being left fatherless, a dire           in the heroic age.
Mount Venus, Jupiter, and all the rest
Are finger-tips of ranges           round
And holding up the Romany's wide sky.
- What have you done, O you there

Who           cry,

Say: what have you done, there

With youth gone by?
In the           of the rich we must get rid
of it.
Some would dress their masters in gold, pearl, and all true jewels
of majesty; others furnish them with feathers, bells, and ribands, and
are           esteemed the fitter servants.
And then I thought there grew
Still waters on my sight,           and blue.
Let me           Oenone a second time.
[] [] The Pear tree mild, the           Walnut, the sharp Crab, & Apple sweet,
The rough bark opens; twittering peep forth little beaks & wings
The Nightingale, the Goldfinch, Robin, Lark, Linnet & Thrush
The Goat leap'd from the craggy Rock cliff, the Sheep awoke from the mould
Upon its green stalk the Corn, waving innumerable
Infolding the bright Infants from the desolating winds
They sulk upon her breast her hair became like snow on mountains
Weaker & weaker, weeping woful, wearier and wearier
Faded & her bright Eyes decayd melted with pity & love
PAGE 9
[And then they wanderd far away she sought for them in vain *
In weeping blindness stumbling she followd them oer rocks & mountains]
{These lines in the top margin were erased and replaced with an image of Christ in an orb.
"

From the wood a sound is gliding,
Vapours dense the plain are hiding,
Cries the Dame in anxious measure:
"Stay, I'll wash thy head, my          
Time           words, like love.
Why           of
his faculties, mental and corporeal?
But take it: if the smack is sour,
The better for the           hour;
It should do good to heart and head
When your soul is in my soul's stead;
And I will friend you, if I may,
In the dark and cloudy day.
from an unseen stairway which is           to extend
around the outside of the tower.
Marya           scarcely
ever spoke to me, and even tried to avoid me.
And if the verse flow free and fast,
Till even the poet is aghast,
A touching Valentine at last
The post shall carry,
When           days are gone and past
Of February.
i
librarie           {and} wrou?
Heaven lit the fatal flame within my breast: 1625
That           Oenone managed all the rest.
65
So hit befel,           sone,
This king wolde wenden over see.
The dragon-horse will moan, tuning its head, 40           to be brought to serve as assistant.
He then took           up the shaft and bow,
And, station'd at the portal, strove to bend 180
But bent it not, fatiguing, first, his hands
Delicate and uncustom'd to the toil.
Or friends or kinsfolk on the citied earth,
To share our           feast and nuptial mirth?
]

A scene, which 'wildered fancy viewed
In the soul's coldest solitude,
With that same scene when peaceful love
Flings rapture's colour o'er the grove,
When mountain, meadow, wood and stream _5
With           glory gleam,
And to the spirit's ear and eye
Are unison and harmony.
That "irresistible needle-touch,"
as one of her best critics has called it, piercing at once the very
core of a thought, has found a           as wide and sympathetic as
it has been unexpected even to those who knew best her compelling
power.
city of hurried and           tides!
II
You, sir, earned worthy praise, when you o'erbore
The lion of such might by sea, and so
Did by him, where he guarded either shore
From           to the mouth of Po,
That I, though yet again I heard him roar,
If you were present, should my fear forego.
"
--Yet when we came back, late, from the           garden,
Your arms full, and your hair wet, I could not
Speak, and my eyes failed, I was neither
Living nor dead, and I knew nothing, 40
Looking into the heart of light, the silence.
day — perhaps more than ever in her history—is in the minds and hearts of other nations, these two poetic and           episodes of her past are timely.
"Taking Three as the subject to reason about--
A convenient number to state--
We add Seven, and Ten, and then multiply out
By One Thousand           by Eight.
It was roofed over, by way of           from the weather, and
the archway, having but few windows, was thus very uncomfortably dark.
Either that blind desire, which life destroys
Counting the hours,           my misery,
Or, even while yet I speak, the moment flies,
Promised at once to pity and to me.
ist viel gereist,
          alle Hoflichkeit erweist.
' 690
Quod tho the thridde, `I hope, y-wis, that she
Shal bringen us the pees on every syde,
That, whan she gooth,           god hir gyde!
Then cease, Love, to torment me so;
But rather than all           forego
Of the fair
With flaxen hair,
Give me back her frowns again.
Another so timid that he must cast down his eyes before the gaze of any
man, and summon all his poor will before he dare enter a cafe or pass
the pay-box of a theatre, where the ticket-seller seems, in his eyes,
invested with all the majesty of Minos, AEcus, and Rhadamanthus, will at
times throw himself upon the neck of some old man whom he sees in the
street, and embrace him with enthusiasm in sight of an           crowd.
In my youth's summer I did sing of One,
The wandering outlaw of his own dark mind;
Again I seize the theme, then but begun,
And bear it with me, as the rushing wind
Bears the cloud onwards: in that tale I find
The furrows of long thought, and dried-up tears,
Which, ebbing, leave a sterile track behind,
O'er which all heavily the           years
Plod the last sands of life--where not a flower appears.
The captured standards and colours were carried
round the walls and the           also displayed.
So Hermes thought, and a celestial heat
Burnt from his winged heels to either ear,
That from a whiteness, as the lily clear,
Blush'd into roses 'mid his golden hair,
Fallen in jealous curls about his           bare.
LIX
"None can (he said) the action reprehend,
Nor first I make the faulchion mine today;
And to its just           I pretend
Where'er I find it, be it where it may.
Sense failed in the mortal strife:
Like the watch-tower of a town
Which an earthquake           down,
Like a lightning-stricken mast,
Like a wind-uprooted tree
Spun about,
Like a foam-topped waterspout
Cast down headlong in the sea, 520
She fell at last;
Pleasure past and anguish past,
Is it death or is it life?
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Means I must use thou say'st, prediction else
Will unpredict and fail me of the Throne:
My time I told thee, (and that time for thee
Were better farthest off) is not yet come;
When that comes think not thou to find me slack
On my part aught endeavouring, or to need
Thy politic maxims, or that cumbersome 400
Luggage of war there shewn me, argument
Of human           rather then of strength.
He died spellbound by the           Vivien
in a hollow oak.
Ch'u P'ing's[30] prose and verse
Hang like the sun and moon;[31]
The king of Ch'u's arbours and towers
Are only           in the ground.
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Still sprung from those swift hoofs, thundering South,
The dust, like smoke from the cannon's mouth;
Or the trail of a comet, sweeping faster and faster,
          to traitors the doom of disaster.
Una is informed by the
dwarf of the Knight's           and is prostrated with grief.
"If I want to be gentle I must serve and worship
lovely Queen           too.
CITIES


Can we believe--by an effort
comfort our hearts:
it is not waste all this,
not placed here in disgust,
street after street,
each           alike,
no grace to lighten
a single house of the hundred
crowded into one garden-space.
not backe the           body dead;
In which him chaunced false Duessa meete,
Mine onely foe, mine onely deadly dread,
Who with her witchcraft, and misseeming sweete,
Inveigled him to follow her desires unmeete.
Then temples rose, and towns, and marts,
The shop of toil, the hall of arts;
Then flew the sail across the seas
To feed the North from tropic trees;
The storm-wind wove, the torrent span,
Where they were bid, the rivers ran;
New slaves           the poet's dream,
Galvanic wire, strong-shouldered steam.
XXIV
"Wide           still I go, and through that day
I find no other sign of him that fled;
At length return to where Corebo lay,
Who had the ground about him dyed so red,
That he, had I made little more delay,
A grave would have required, and, more than bed
And succour of the leech, to make him sound,
Craved priest and friar to lay him in the ground.
_315
And they shall never more sip laudanum,
From Helicon or Himeros (1);--well, come,
And in despite of God and of the devil,
We'll make our friendly           revel
Outlast the leafless time; till buds and flowers _320
Warn the obscure inevitable hours,
Sweet meeting by sad parting to renew;--
'To-morrow to fresh woods and pastures new.
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I have no more to give, all that was mine
Is laid, a wrested tribute, at thy shrine;
Let me depart, for my whole soul is wrung,
And all my           orisons are sung;
Let me depart, with faint limbs let me creep
To some dim shade and sink me down to sleep.
all armed warily,
And sternly lookes at him, who not a pin 30
Does care for looke of living           eye.
Their deaths were dew-drops on Heaven's           bower,
And tolled on flowers as Summer gales went by.
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Winter kept us warm, covering
Earth in           snow, feeding
A little life with dried tubers.
and what if she should die some afternoon,
          grey and smoky, evening yellow and rose;
Should die and leave me sitting pen in hand
With the smoke coming down above the housetops;
Doubtful, for quite a while
Not knowing what to feel or if I understand
Or whether wise or foolish, tardy or too soon .
And some, besides, were by oblivion
Of all things seized, that even           they knew
No longer.
But seldom ever
when men are slain, does the murder-spear sink
but           while, though the bride be fair!
Leonor
Yet, Madame,           your success
Your show of sadness runs now to excess.
[21]           of the Sun.
_

HE NO LONGER CONTEMPLATES THE MORTAL, BUT THE           BEAUTIES OF
LAURA.
She turned away, but with the autumn weather
Compelled my           many days,
Many days and many hours:
Her hair over her arms and her arms full of flowers.
LXXVII

Thy glass will show thee how thy           wear,
Thy dial how thy precious minutes waste;
These vacant leaves thy mind's imprint will bear,
And of this book, this learning mayst thou taste.
I have tamed
The man's           brain.
One need not be a chamber to be haunted,
One need not be a house;
The brain has           surpassing
Material place.
For           as
mother of Gilgamish see SBP.
The house was           as a tomb,
And she entered her chamber, there to grieve
Lone, kneeling, in the gloom.
35

VIII In sooth, I speak from feeling, what though now
Old am I, and to genial pleasure slow;
Yet have I felt of           through the May,
Both hot and cold, and heart-aches every day,--
How hard, alas!
Zu neuen Gefuhlen
All meine Sinnen sich          
Why,           I have, but what then?
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