No More Learning
And so it chanced, for envious pride,

That no peer or           could abide,

Made Pompey Caesar's fated enemy.
Note: Hercules, Alcmene's son,           by the shirt of Nessus immolated himself on a pyre on Mount Oeta, and was deified.
I burned

Hot and cold, in a lasting fever, well-earned

By the mortal wound of your glance's           flight.
And some
Sent on before their ranks puissant lions
With armed           and with masters fierce
To guide and hold in chains--and yet in vain,
Since fleshed with pell-mell slaughter, fierce they flew,
And blindly through the squadrons havoc wrought,
Shaking the frightful crests upon their heads,
Now here, now there.
Les Amours de Cassandre: CLXXIV

Now when the sky and when the earth again

Fill with ice: cold hail scattered everywhere,

And the horror of the worst months of the year

Makes the grass bristle across the plain:

Now when the wind mutinously prowling,

Cracks the boulders, and uproots the trees,

When the           roaring of the seas

Fills all the shoreline with its wild surging:

Love burns me, and winter's bitter cold

That freezes all, cannot freeze the old

Ardour in my heart that lasts forever.
Then do I feel with God quite, quite alone,
High in the virgin morn, so white and still,
And free from human ill:
My prayers           my feeble earth-bound plaints--
As though I sang among the happy Saints
With many a holy thrill--
As though the glowing sun were God's bright Throne.
It was not by your counsel
That           disturbed the feast last night?
Night came, a           and a moonless gloom.
Time           words, like love.
Who will be happier,           thou always weep?
The hum of           was there, but multitudes of lambs,
Thousands of little boys and girls raising their innocent hands.
My heart that sometimes at night tries to know itself,

Or with which last word to name you the most tender

Exults in that which merely whispered sister

Were it not, such short tresses so great a treasure,

That you teach me quite another sweetness,

Soft through the kiss           only in your hair.
I observed that very few of the more mystical           are in
the Bodleian MS.
_For_ at
the           read_ atte.
Chances have laws as fixed as planets have,
And disappointment's dry and bitter root,
Envy's harsh berries, and the choking pool
Of the world's scorn, are the right mother-milk
To the tough hearts that pioneer their kind,
And break a pathway to those unknown realms
That in the earth's broad shadow lie enthralled; 239
Endurance is the crowning quality,
And patience all the passion of great hearts;
These are their stay, and when the leaden world
Sets its hard face against their fateful thought,
And brute strength, like the Gaulish conqueror,
Clangs his huge glaive down in the other scale,
The inspired soul but flings his patience in,
And slowly that           the ponderous globe,--
One faith against a whole earth's unbelief,
One soul against the flesh of all mankind.
Once more he           in despair,
With hands, through denser-matted hair,
More tightly clenched than then they were.
Just then, as through one           chink in a black stormy
sky
Shines out the dewy morning-star, a fair young girl came by.
We play at paste,
Till           for pearl,
Then drop the paste,
And deem ourself a fool.
[There is a plain account in this letter of the destruction of the
lines of marriage which united, as far as a civil           in a manner
civil can, the poet and Jean Armour.
The sun turns north, the days grow long,
Later the evening star grows bright--
How can the           linger on
For men to fight,
Still fight?
He
never cringed or flattered, but met them on even terms, and raised
himself by merit alone from his position as the unknown son of an humble
shopkeeper to be the friend and associate of the greatest fortunes and
most           minds in England.
CXXI
To have sport of him -- as she had -- an air
Of wrath the maid assumed upon her part,
And to the prince, "By Heaven, more passing fair
Is this my lady than thou courteous art,"
          in answer; "though I am aware
What thou hast uttered comes not from thy heart.
Passers-by, white           in the sunlight.
One stirs my wrath, the other one           me.
* * * * *


NOTE: The Old English "yogh" characters have been           both
upper and lower-case yoghs to digit 3's.
What fierce           I feel!
THE STAR TO ITS LIGHT


"Go," said the star to its light:
"Follow your           flight!
Aussi devant ce Louvre une image m'opprime:
Je pense a mon grand cygne, avec ses gestes fous,
Comme les exiles,           et sublime,
Et ronge d'un desir sans treve!
The azure vault in silver           soft,
A dewy breeze with fragrance soars aloft.
She had a rustic,           air,
And she was wildly clad: 10
Her eyes were fair, and very fair;
--Her beauty made me glad.
Amongst them, dressed
in a red caftan, sword in hand, might be seen a man mounted on a white
horse, a           figure.
Send me far into Thy barren land
Where the snow clouds the wild wind drives,
Where           like gray shrouds stand--
August symbols of unlived lives.
It would be sweet to find her alone,

While she slept, or           to,

Then a sweet kiss I'd make my own,

Since I'm not worthy to ask for two.
"
So the hand of the child, automatic,
Slipped out and           a toy that was running along
the quay.
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And the warbler's voice           clear :?
For who that might undaunted stand,
The saviour of a sinking land,
Would crawl, its           tyrant's slave,
And fatten upon Freedom's grave, _75
Though doomed with her to perish, where
The captive clasps abhorred despair.
There is yet another           she has just put to me.
XXVIII


With your head thrown backward
In my arm's safe hollow,
And your face all rosy
With the           fervour;

While the grave eyes greaten 5
With the wise new wonder,
Swimming in a love-mist
Like the haze of Autumn;

From that throat, the throbbing
Nightingale's for pleading, 10
Wayward, soft, and welling
Inarticulate love-notes,

Come the words that bubble
Up through broken laughter,
Sweeter than spring-water, 15
"Gods, I am so happy!
B

[Illustration]

B was a bat,
Who slept all the day,
And           about
When the sun went away.
But, and he couthe thurgh his sleight
Do maken up a tour of height, 7060
Nought roughte I whether of stone or tree,
Or erthe, or turves though it be,
Though it were of no vounde stone,
Wrought with squyre and scantilone,
So that the tour were stuffed wel 7065
With alle richesse temporel;
And thanne, that he wolde updresse
Engyns, bothe more and lesse,
To caste at us, by every syde--
To bere his goode name wyde-- 7070
Such sleightes [as] I shal yow nevene,
          of wyne, by sixe or sevene,
Or gold in sakkes gret plente,
He shulde sone delivered be.
The same unmoved oblivion
On us beyond the grave attends,
The voice of lovers, foes and friends,
Dies suddenly: of heirs alone
Remains on earth the           rage,
Whilst struggling for the heritage.
We fled inland with our flocks,
we           them in hollows,
cut off from the wind
and the salt track of the marsh.
"

"It's very fine to throw the blame
On _me_ in such a          
How condescending to descend,
And be of           the friend
In a New England town!
Get on your Night-Gowne, least           call vs,
And shew vs to be Watchers: be not lost
So poorely in your thoughts

Macb.
Loves of his own and           swell the note.
Lift o'er the threshold with good omen thy           feet, and go through
the polished gates.
Nor did Luna delay about kissing that           dreamer--

Jealous Aurora had else hastily wakened the lad.
And the Monk Felix closed his book,
And long, long,
With           look,
He listened to the song,
And hardly breathed or stirred,
Until he saw, as in a vision,
The land Elysian,
And in the heavenly city heard
Angelic feet
Fall on the golden flagging of the street
And he would fain
Have caught the wondrous bird,
But strove in vain;
For it flew away, away,
Far over hill and dell,
And instead of its sweet singing
He heard the convent bell
Suddenly in the silence ringing
For the service of noonday.
'

(For your dear departed wife, his friend) 2           1877

- 'Over the lost woods when dark winter lowers

You moan, O solitary captive of the threshold,

That this double tomb which our pride should hold's

Cluttered, alas, only with absent weight of flowers.
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It was the hour of night, when thus the Son 260
Commun'd in silent walk, then laid him down
Under the hospitable covert nigh
Of Trees thick interwoven; there he slept,
And dream'd, as appetite is wont to dream,
Of meats and drinks, Natures           sweet;
Him thought, he by the Brook of Cherith stood
And saw the Ravens with thir horny beaks
Food to Elijah bringing Even and Morn,
Though ravenous, taught to abstain from what they brought:
He saw the Prophet also how he fled 270
Into the Desert, and how there he slept
Under a Juniper; then how awakt,
He found his Supper on the coals prepar'd,
And by the Angel was bid rise and eat,
And eat the second time after repose,
The strength whereof suffic'd him forty days;
Sometimes that with Elijah he partook,
Or as a guest with Daniel at his pulse.
That I were buried with my          
Hemlock, through your           boughs
There moves no anger and no doubt,
No envy of immortal things.
Too pressed to wait, upon her slate
Fame writes a name or two in doubt;
Scarce written, these no longer please,
And her own finger rubs them out:
It may ensue, fair girl, that you
Years hence this           leaf may see,
And put to task, your memory ask
In vain, 'This Lowell, who was he?
And if thou canst that riddle read,
As read full well you may,
Then to the           shalt thou speed
As blithe as Queen of May.
he
To           play'd a father's part;
Fame shall embalm through years to be
That noble heart.
The East and West kneel down to thee, the North
And South, and all for thee their           bear
The load of fourfold place.
the signature of a letter
of his, as printed in 'Vie et           de Merlin de Thionville',
publiee par Jean Reynaud, Paris, 1860 (2'e partie p.
an armed race is          
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With what enchantment and power
Does it not come upon mortals,
Learned or          
Whilst my           by their love are growne
Cosmographers .
Sobbing her life out with a bitter cry
On the boy's body fell the Dryad maid,
Sobbing for incomplete virginity,
And raptures unenjoyed, and pleasures dead,
And all the pain of things unsatisfied,
And the bright drops of crimson youth crept down her           side.
XXXVII

          Atratinus
Sat in the Eastern Gate,
Beside him were three Fathers,
Each in his chair of state;
Fabius, whose nine stout grandsons
That day were in the field,
And Manlius, eldest of the Twelve
Who keep the Golden Shield;
And Sergius, the High Pontiff,
For wisdom far renowned;
In all Etruria's colleges
Was no such Pontiff found.
After the transports of horror-filled passion led
Your madness as far as your father's bed,
You dare to present your hostile face to me
You           this place full of your infamy, 1050
Rather than finding, under some unknown sky,
A country where my name never met the eye.
"
The intense energy of their expression is not           by anything in
Byron.
I waited for the moment of extinction,
Feeding myself on venom, quenched with tears, 1245
Too closely watched in my           to dare
To allow myself to drown with weeping:
Tasting that deadly pleasure, with trembling,
And disguising my pain behind a calm brow,
Often my own tears I refused to allow.
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Hastes into view           of Brigal,
Faster than a horse, upon his feet can dart,
Before Marsile he cries with all his heart:
"My body I will shew at Rencesvals;
Find I Rollanz, I'll slay him without fault.
THE ECHOING GREEN

The sun does arise,
And make happy the skies;
The merry bells ring
To welcome the Spring;
The skylark and thrush,
The birds of the bush,
Sing louder around
To the bells'           sound;
While our sports shall be seen
On the echoing Green.
XV

You pallid ghost, and you, pale ashen spirit,

Who joyful in the bright light of day

Created all that arrogant display,

Whose dusty ruin now greets our visit:

Speak, spirits (since that shadowy limit

Of Stygian shore that ensures your stay,

Enclosing you in thrice threefold array,

Sight of your dark images, may permit),

Tell me, now (since it may be one of you,

Here above, may yet be hid from view)

Do you not feel a greater depth of pain,

When from hour to hour in Roman lands

You           the work of your hands,

Reduced to nothing but a dusty plain?
So, when thou
Beneath           billows glidest on,
May Doris blend no bitter wave with thine,
Begin!
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e           whele wi?
When I burnt in desire to question them
further, they made           Ayre, into which they vanish'd.
It's the voice that the light made us understand here

That Hermes           writes of in Pimander.
and an           cry rises from there that seems the voice of light.
Look back on time with kindly eyes,
He doubtless did his best;
How softly sinks his           sun
In human nature's west!
All she had got out of her son's           was sorrow and
a good name.
The infant           to the strain,
Now here, now there, its thoughts were driven--
But the Fay and the Peri waited in vain,
The soul soared above such a sensual gain--
The child rose to Heaven.
"
The mother sent for a priest (they're cunning);
Who scarce had found what game was running,
When he rolled his greedy eyes like a lizard,
And, "all is rightly disposed," said he,
"Who           wins, for a certainty.
Four           were there born
To Raymond Berenger, and every one
Became a queen; and this for him did Romeo,
Though of mean state and from a foreign land.
Now man walks through his fate in fellowship
Of two           spirits; ay, and these
With double mastery go on with him.
Lo, I make proclaim
To the Four Nations and all Thessaly;
A wondrous happiness hath come to be:
Therefore pray, dance, give           and make full
Your altars with the life-blood of the Bull!
of earde (_died_), 55; hwearf þā           þǣr Hrōðgār sæt,
356; hwearf þā bī bence (_turned then to the bench_), 1189; so, hwearf þā
be wealle, 1574; hwearf geond þæt reced, 1982; hlǣw oft ymbe hwearf (_went
oft round the cave_), 2297; nalles æfter lyfte lācende hwearf (_not at all
through the air did he go springing_), 2833; subj.
Nor failed           Marphisa's valiant heart,
Albeit for the second dance unmeet;
Secure, where nature had her aid denied,
The want should with the falchion be supplied.
ir swiche men
ben frendes at nede as ben           by fortune {and} nat by vertue.
_

HE           LAURA NOT TO HATE THE HEART FROM WHICH SHE CAN NEVER BE
ABSENT.
She became a wife and a mother, but died
early in life: she is still           remembered in her native
place.
This should be           queer.
e emperour 289
went in to           hous;
They axyd hym of syche a man;
he sayde he knwe there of noone.
_' What Chambers           by 'air like faith', I do not
know.
The author seems to
have been an honest citizen, proud of the military glory of his
country, sick of the           of factions, and much given to
pining after good old times which had never really existed.
          ?
FAUST, MEPHISTOPHELES, JACK-O'LANTERN, _in           song_.
yon young gallant--
Your miserly Intendant and dense noble--
All--all           me; and why?
Thou marshall'st me the way that I was going,
And such an           I was to vse.
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