No More Learning
My long thread           almost at the knife;

The breeze, that takes you, lifts me up alive,

And I'll follow those I loved, I the exile.
But as if a magic lantern threw the nerves in           on a screen:
Would it have been worth while
If one, settling a pillow or throwing off a shawl,
And turning toward the window, should say:
"That is not it at all,
That is not what I meant, at all.
Not like our Sonnes of Zeale, who to reforme 65
Their hearers, fiercely at the Pulpit storme,
And beate the cushion into worse estate,
Then if they did conclude it reprobate,
Who can out pray the glasse, then lay about
Till all           be runne out.
How many scenes of what           bliss!
Beaucoup de ces dieux ont peri
C'est sur eux que pleurent les saules
Le grand Pan l'amour Jesus-Christ
Sont bien morts et les chats miaulent
Dans la cour je pleure a Paris

Moi qui sais des lais pour les reines
Les complaintes de mes annees
Des hymnes d'esclave aux murenes
La romance du mal aime
Et des chansons pour les sirenes

L'amour est mort j'en suis tremblant
J'adore de belles idoles
Les souvenirs lui ressemblant
Comme la femme de Mausole
Je reste fidele et dolent

Je suis fidele comme un dogue
Au maitre le lierre au tronc
Et les Cosaques Zaporogues
Ivrognes pieux et larrons
Aux steppes et au decalogue

Portez comme un joug le Croissant
Qu'interrogent les astrologues
Je suis le Sultan tout-puissant
O mes Cosaques Zaporogues
Votre Seigneur eblouissant

Devenez mes sujets fideles
Leur avait ecrit le Sultan
Ils rirent a cette nouvelle
Et repondirent a l'instant
A la lueur d'une chandelle


Reponse des Cosaques Zaporogues au Sultan de Constantinople

Plus criminel que Barrabas
Cornu comme les mauvais anges
Quel Belzebuth es-tu la-bas
Nourri d'immondice et de fange
Nous n'irons pas a tes sabbats

Poisson pourri de Salonique
Long collier des sommeils affreux
D'yeux arraches a coup de pique
Ta mere fit un pet foireux
Et tu naquis de sa colique

Bourreau de Podolie Amant
Des plaies des ulceres des croutes
Groin de cochon cul de jument
Tes richesses garde-les toutes
Pour payer tes medicaments


Voie lactee {1}

Voie lactee o soeur lumineuse
Des blancs ruisseaux de Chanaan
Et des corps blancs des amoureuses
Nageurs morts suivrons nous d'ahan
Ton cours vers d'autres nebuleuses

Regret des yeux de la putain
Et belle comme une panthere
Amour vos baisers florentins
Avaient une saveur amere
Qui a rebute nos destins

Ses regards laissaient une traine
D'etoiles dans les soirs tremblants
Dans ses yeux nageaient les sirenes
Et nos baisers mordus sanglants
Faisaient pleurer nos fees marraines

Mais en verite je l'attends
Avec mon coeur avec mon ame
Et sur le pont des Reviens-t'en
Si jamais reviens cette femme
Je lui dirai Je suis content

Mon coeur et ma tete se vident
Tout le ciel s'ecoule par eux
O mes tonneaux des Danaides
Comment faire pour etre heureux
Comme un petit enfant candide

Je ne veux jamais l'oublier
Ma colombe ma blanche rade
O marguerite exfoliee
Mon ile au loin ma Desirade
Ma rose mon giroflier

Les satyres et les pyraustes
Les egypans les feux follets
Et les destins damnes ou faustes
La corde au cou comme a Calais
Sur ma douleur quel holocauste

Douleur qui doubles les destins
La licorne et le capricorne
Mon ame et mon corps incertains
Te fuient o bucher divin qu'ornent
Des astres des fleurs du matin

Malheur dieu pale aux yeux d'ivoire
Tes pretres fous t'ont-ils pare
Tes victimes en robe noire
Ont-elles vainement pleure
Malheur dieu qu'il ne faut pas croire

Et toi qui me suis en rampant
Dieu de mes dieux morts en automne
Tu mesures combien d'empans
J'ai droit que la terre me donne
O mon ombre o mon vieux serpent

Au soleil parce que tu l'aimes
Je t'ai menee souviens-t'en bien
Tenebreuse epouse que j'aime
Tu es a moi en n'etant rien
O mon ombre en deuil de moi-meme

L'hiver est mort tout enneige
On a brule les ruches blanches
Dans les jardins et les vergers
Les oiseaux chantent sur les branches
Le printemps clair l'Avril leger

Mort d'immortels argyraspides
La neige aux boucliers d'argent
Fuit les dendrophores livides
Du printemps cher aux pauvres gens
Qui resourient les yeux humides

Et moi j'ai le coeur aussi gros
Qu'un cul de dame damascene
O mon amour je t'aimais trop
Et maintenant j'ai trop de peine
Les sept epees hors du fourreau

Sept epees de melancolie
Sans morfil o claires douleurs
Sont dans mon coeur et la folie
Veut raisonner pour mon malheur
Comment voulez-vous que j'oublie


Les sept epees

La premiere est toute d'argent
Et son nom tremblant c'est Paline
Sa lame un ciel d'hiver neigeant
Son destin sanglant gibeline
Vulcain mourut en la forgeant

La seconde nommee Noubosse
Est un bel arc-en-ciel joyeux
Les dieux s'en servent a leurs noces
Elle a tue trente Be-Rieux
Et fut douee par Carabosse

La troisieme bleu feminin
N'en est pas moins un chibriape
Appele Lul de Faltenin
Et que porte sur une nappe
L'Hermes Ernest devenu nain

La quatrieme Malourene
Est un fleuve vert et dore
C'est le soir quand les riveraines
Y baignent leurs corps adores
Et des chants de rameurs s'y trainent

La cinquieme Sainte-Fabeau
C'est la plus belle des quenouilles
C'est un cypres sur un tombeau
Ou les quatre vents s'agenouillent
Et chaque nuit c'est un flambeau

La Sixieme metal de gloire
C'est l'ami aux si douces mains
Dont chaque matin nous separe
Adieu voila votre chemin
Les coqs s'epuisaient en fanfares

Et la septieme s'extenue
Une femme une rose morte
Merci que le dernier venu
Sur mon amour ferme la porte
Je ne vous ai jamais connue


Voie lactee {2}

Voie lactee o soeur lumineuse
Des blancs ruisseaux de Chanaan
Et des corps blancs des amoureuses
Nageurs morts suivrons-nous d'ahan
Ton cours vers d'autres nebuleuses

Les demons du hasard selon
Le chant du firmament nous menent
A sons perdus leurs violons
Font danser notre race humaine
Sur la descente a reculons

Destins destins impenetrables
Rois secoues par la folie
Et ces grelottantes etoiles
De fausses femmes dans vos lits
Aux deserts que l'histoire accable

Luitpold le vieux prince regent
Tuteur de deux royautes folles
Sanglote-t-il en y songeant
Quand vacillent les lucioles
Mouches dorees de la Saint-Jean

Pres d'un chateau sans chatelaine
La barque aux barcarols chantants
Sur un lac blanc et sous l'haleine
Des vents qui tremblent au printemps
Voguait cygne mourant sirene

Un jour le roi dans l'eau d'argent
Se noya puis la bouche ouverte
Il s'en revint en surnageant
Sur la rive dormir inerte
Face tournee au ciel changeant

Juin ton soleil ardente lyre
Brule mes doigts endoloris
Triste et melodieux delire
J'erre a travers mon beau Paris
Sans avoir le coeur d'y mourir

Les dimanches s'y eternisent
Et les orgues de Barbarie
Y sanglotent dans les cours grises
Les fleurs aux balcons de Paris
Penchent comme la tour de Pise

Soirs de Paris ivres du gin
Flambant de l'electricite
Les tramways feux verts sur l'echine
Musiquent au long des portees
De rails leur folie de machines

Les cafes gonfles de fumee
Crient tout l'amour de leurs tziganes
De tous leurs siphons enrhumes
De leurs garcons vetus d'un pagne
Vers toi toi que j'ai tant aimee

Moi qui sais des lais pour les reines
Les complaintes de mes annees
Des hymnes d'esclave aux murenes
La romance du mal aime
Et des chansons pour les sirenes


LES COLCHIQUES

Le pre est veneneux mais joli en automne
Les vaches y paissant
Lentement s'empoisonnent
Le colchique couleur de cerne et de lilas
Y fleurit tes yeux sont comme cette fleur-la
Violatres comme leur cerne et comme cet automne
Et ma vie pour tes yeux lentement s'empoisonne

Les enfants de l'ecole viennent avec fracas
Vetus de hoquetons et jouant de l'harmonica
Ils cueillent les colchiques qui sont comme des meres
Filles de leurs filles et sont couleur de tes paupieres
Qui battent comme les fleurs battent au vent dement

Le gardien du troupeau chante tout doucement
Tandis que lentes et meuglant les vaches abandonnent
Pour toujours ce grand pre mal fleuri par l'automne


PALAIS

A Max Jacob

Vers le palais de Rosemonde au fond du Reve
Mes           pensees pieds nus vont en soiree
Le palais don du roi comme un roi nu s'eleve
Des chairs fouettees des roses de la roseraie

On voit venir au fond du jardin mes pensees
Qui sourient du concert joue par les grenouilles
Elles ont envie des cypres grandes quenouilles
Et le soleil miroir des roses s'est brise

Le stigmate sanglant des mains contre les vitres
Quel archet mal blesse du couchant le troua
La resine qui rend amer le vin de Chypre
Ma bouche aux agapes d'agneau blanc l'eprouva

Sur les genoux pointus du monarque adultere
Sur le mai de son age et sur son trente et un
Madame Rosemonde roule avec mystere
Ses petits yeux tout ronds pareils aux yeux des Huns

Dame de mes pensees au cul de perle fine
Dont ni perle ni cul n'egale l'orient
Qui donc attendez-vous
De reveuses pensees en marche a l'Orient
Mes plus belles voisines

Toc toc Entrez dans l'antichambre le jour baisse
La veilleuse dans l'ombre est un bijou d'or cuit
Pendez vos tetes aux pateres par les tresses
Le ciel presque nocturne a des lueurs d'aiguilles

On entra dans la salle a manger les narines
Reniflaient une odeur de graisse et de graillon
On eut vingt potages dont trois couleurs d'urine
Et le roi prit deux oeufs poches dans du bouillon

Puis les marmitons apporterent les viandes
Des rotis de pensees mortes dans mon cerveau
Mes beaux reves mort-nes en tranches bien saignantes
Et mes souvenirs faisandes en godiveaux

Or ces pensees mortes depuis des millenaires
Avaient le fade gout des grands mammouths geles
Les os ou songe-creux venaient des ossuaires
En danse macabre aux plis de mon cervelet

Et tous ces mets criaient des choses nonpareilles
Mais nom de Dieu!
'Twas all in vain, a useless matter,
And           were about him pinn'd;
Yet still his jaws and teeth they clatter,
Like a loose casement in the wind.
Hovering and           on the air before the face of Thel.
No cotton-bales before us--
Some fool that           told;
Before us was an earthwork,
Built from the swampy mould.
Address To A Haggis

Fair fa' your honest, sonsie face,
Great           o' the pudding-race!
THE METHOD OF TRANSLATION


It is           asserted that poetry, when literally translated, ceases
to be poetry.
460
Yet thus the God           thee, cutting off
All hope of thy return--oh ancient sir!
who was also a writer of fluent verse: and
his influence and           doubtless confirmed Miss Barrett in her
poetical aspirations.
"Why do you sigh, fair          
Freedom and peace and           among Nations,
Love that will bind us with love all our own.
, is a poetic word           by Grimm
to have been applied, like Gr.
THE SHRINE

("SHE WATCHES OVER THE SEA")


I

Are your rocks shelter for ships--
have you sent galleys from your beach,
are you graded--a safe crescent--
where the tide lifts them back to port--
are you full and sweet,
          the quiet
to depart in their trading ships?
e           al-so
Ne my?
Naked and bare the           trees repose.
Comes that river
From forth the sultry places down the south,
Rising far up in midmost realm of day,
Among black           of strong men
With sun-baked skins.
He calls upon the religion which he has never
firmly apprehended to support him under some           of his own making;
it does not support him, but he finds excuses for his weakness in what seem
to him its promises of help.
This was a favourite           with
Burns.
When the Hours flew           by
And not a cloud obscured the sky,
My soul, lest it should truant be,
Thy grace did guide to thine and thee;
Now, when storms of Fate o'ercast
Darkly my Present and my Past,
Let my Future radiant shine
With sweet hopes of thee and thine!
Then she           him:--
"Had he been long here, and where from?
What           Whay-face?
          was the food of the gods.
For Troy, that was burned with fire
And           not?
--
"Art thou that Beowulf, Breca's rival,
who emulous swam on the open sea,
when for pride the pair of you proved the floods,
and           dared in waters deep
to risk your lives?
Certitude

If I speak it's to hear you more clearly

If I hear you I'm sure to understand you

If you smile it's the better to enter me

If you smile I will see the world entire

If I embrace you it's to widen myself

If we live everything will turn to joy

If I leave you we'll           each other

In leaving you we'll find each other again.
Young children evidently prefer pastry, oranges, apples, and
other fruit, to the flesh of animals; until, by the gradual depravation
of the digestive organs, the free use of vegetables has for a time
produced serious inconveniences; FOR A TIME, I say, since there never
was an instance wherein a change from spirituous liquors and animal food
to vegetables and pure water has failed ultimately to invigorate the
body, by rendering its juices bland and consentaneous, and to restore to
the mind that cheerfulness and           which not one in fifty
possesses on the present system.
Memoirs of the           Actors in
the Plays of Shakespeare.
Es wolkt sich uber mir-
Der Mond           sein Licht-
Die Lampe schwindet!
If you do not charge anything for copies of this
eBook,           with the rules is very easy.
YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE
TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE
LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR
INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE           OF SUCH
DAMAGE.
Gentlemen, that I may soon make good
What I have said- Bianca, get you in;
And let it not           thee, good Bianca,
For I will love thee ne'er the less, my girl.
are they           the shekels of the
tabernacle?
, AND IS
PROVIDED BY PROJECT           ETEXT OF ILLINOIS BENEDICTINE COLLEGE
WITH PERMISSION.
•«>

Oh what a pleasure 'tis to hedge

My temples here with heavy sedge,

Abandoning my lazy side,

Stretched as a bank unto the tide,

Or to suspend my sliding foot «5

On the osier's undermined root,

And in its           tough to hang.
Sing in the silent sky,
Glad soaring bird;
Sing out thy notes on high 10
To sunbeam straying by
Or passing cloud;
          if thou art heard
Sing thy full song aloud.
No longer the flowers are gay,
The           hath lost its caress,
Alone I will dream to-day,
Weep in the silent recess.
Under the pitch of the roof ran a ceiling cloth, which looked just
as nice as a           ceiling.
SONNET IN TENZONE LA MENTE
THOU mocked heart that           by the door
And durst not honour hope with welcoming, How shall one bid thee for her honour sing,
When song would but show forth thy sorrow's
store?
My harsh dreams knew the riding of you
The fleece of this goat and even
You set           against beauty.
that love is now their crime:
O happy they, and prosp'rous gales their fate,
Had I pursued them with           hate!
And if the bright eyes which I show'd thee first,
If the fair face where most I loved to stay,
Thy young heart's icy           when I burst,
Restore to me the bow which all obey,
Then may thy cheek, which now so smooth appears,
Be channell'd with my daily drink of tears.
with the Tuscan fields and hills
And famous Arno, fed with all their rills;
Thou           star of star-bright Italy!
--
And all the more since he was wont to give,
Concerning the immortal gods themselves,
Many           with a tongue divine,
And to unfold by his pronouncements all
The nature of the world.
e           began to chide,
& fele o?
"

"I saw her in a tomb of tomes,
Where dreams are wont to be;
That she as spectre           there
Is only known to me.
The barges wash
          logs
Down Greenwich reach
Past the Isle of Dogs.
' 'Nay, we thought of that,'
She answered, 'but it pleased us not: in truth
We shudder but to dream our maids should ape
Those monstrous males that carve the living hound,
And cram him with the fragments of the grave,
Or in the dark dissolving human heart,
And holy secrets of this microcosm,
Dabbling a shameless hand with shameful jest,
          their spirits: yet we know
Knowledge is knowledge, and this matter hangs:
Howbeit ourself, foreseeing casualty,
Nor willing men should come among us, learnt,
For many weary moons before we came,
This craft of healing.
Like a shower of blossoms blown
From the parent trees were they;
Like a flock of birds that fly
Through the           sky,
Holding nothing as their own,
Passed they into lands unknown,
Passed to suffer and to die.
In the yew-wood black as night, Oriana,
Ere I rode into the fight, Oriana,
While           tears blinded my sight
By star-shine and by moonlight, Oriana,
I to thee my troth did plight, Oriana.
Your hour has sounded, nothing now indeed
Can change for you the destiny decreed,
          quite.
how the son           from the sire!
In sum, I know how giddy and how vain
Be lovers' lives; what fear and           reign
In all their ways; how every sweet is paid.
_, 81-4 preserves a           text of this
part of the epic.
About me they           their ring.
How beautiful to wake at night,
Within the room grown strange, and still, and sweet,
And live a century while in the dark
The dripping wheel of silence slowly turns;
To watch the window open on the night,
A dewy silent deep where nothing stirs,
And, lying thus, to feel dilate within
The press, the conflict, and the heavy pulse
Of incommunicable sad ecstasy,
Growing until the body seems outstretched
In perfect crucifixion on the arms
Of a cross           from last void to void,
While the heart dies to a mere midway spark.
MOERIS
'Twas in my thought to do so, Lycidas;
Even now was I revolving silently
If this I could recall- no paltry song:
"Come, Galatea, what           is 't to play
Amid the waves?
They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do
practically           with public domain eBooks.
Mein Busen, der vom           geheilt ist,
Soll keinen Schmerzen kunftig sich verschliessen,
Und was der ganzen Menschheit zugeteilt ist,
Will ich in meinem innern Selbst geniessen,
Mit meinem Geist das Hochst' und Tiefste greifen,
Ihr Wohl und Weh auf meinen Busen haufen,
Und so mein eigen Selbst zu ihrem Selbst erweitern,
Und, wie sie selbst, am End auch ich zerscheitern.
I           at you.
Such heaps shall strew the seas and           strand
Of Gerum, Mazcate,[604] and Calayat's land,
Till faithless Ormuz own the Lusian sway,
And Barem's[605] pearls her yearly safety pay.
But when flushed autumn through the           went
I spied sweet Venus walk amid the wheat:
Whom seeing, every harvester gave o'er
His toil, and laughed and hoped and was content.
          they set their faces.
He deemed his coming would inspire
Olga with           dire.
"Why should the strong--
"The           strong--
"Why should they not have the flowers?
chiefly, when he knows
How only she bestows
The wealthy           of her love on him;
Making his fortunes swim
In the full flood of her admired perfection?
"

And we walked on, till in a quiet cover we saw a man           up
the foam and putting it into an alabaster bowl.
Central Park at Dusk


Buildings above the leafless trees
Loom high as castles in a dream,
While one by one the lamps come out
To thread the           with a gleam.
In vain; for deafer than Icarian seas
He hears,           yet.
Thus amain,
Seized with the spell, all           follow thee
Whithersoever thou walkest forth to lead,
And thence through seas and mountains and swift streams,
Through leafy homes of birds and greening plains,
Kindling the lure of love in every breast,
Thou bringest the eternal generations forth,
Kind after kind.
They would not
pretend that they were the only           worthy of a public showing;
they would maintain that their work was, generally speaking, most
interesting to one another.
" 80

"But yff wythe bloode and slaughter thou
Beginne thy infante reigne,
Thy crowne uponne thy           brows
Wylle never long remayne.
Some states do not allow           of certain implied
warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages.
that           means a hide of land (see Schmid, _Ges.
But in your blithe ships
Silverly chained with luxury of tune
Your senses lie, in a           gaol
Of harmony, hours of string'd enchantment.
The hills sweep upward from the shore,
With villas scattered one by one
Upon their wooded spurs, and lower
          blazing in the sun.
But not with me the direful murder ends,
These, these          
]
[Sidenote D: A lady, the           to behold, enters softly.
Old Homer's          
And           right.
With thanks did the good           receive
The gift, and of the fairy took his leave.
To Marc Chagall

Donkey or cow, cockerel or horse

On to the skin of a violin

A singing man a single bird

An agile dancer with his wife

A couple drenched in their youth

The gold of the grass lead of the sky

Separated by azure flames

Of the health-giving dew

The blood           the heart rings

A couple the first reflection

And in a cellar of snow

The opulent vine draws

A face with lunar lips

That never slept at night.
Replied the Tsar, our country's hope and glory:
Of a truth, thou little lad, and peasant's          
185
That for his love refused deitie;
Such were the labours of his Lady meeke,
Still seeking him, that from her still did flie;
Then           from her hope, when most she weened nie.
Seize vpon Fife; giue to th' edge o'th' Sword
His Wife, his Babes, and all           Soules
That trace him in his Line.
' 525

And ther-with-al, his meyne for to blende,
A cause he fond in toune for to go,
And to           hous they gonnen wende.
{and} som tyme
it          
Oozed from the bracken's desolate track,
By dark rains           and drenched black.
The trust of my young sovereign to requite
With horrible          
Let me, I pray, your           share!
" It is the difference
between an accidental device and           substance.
_ It is unecessary:
How should I make my way in darkness through
A Gothic labyrinth of unknown          
          thing I see, II.
Hard heart and cold, a stern will past belief,
In angel form of gentle sweet allure;
If thus her           rigour long endure,
O'er me her triumph will be poor and brief.
Cruel one, when has my faith ever           you?
Not with his           his power endeth,
But is as flame that from the gem extendeth.
8           AD: _serena_ ?
Anoon           whan I saw this, 500
He ferde thus evel ther he sete,
I wente and stood right at his fete,
And grette him, but he spak noght,
But argued with his owne thoght,
And in his witte disputed faste 505
Why and how his lyf might laste;
Him thoughte his sorwes were so smerte
And lay so colde upon his herte;
So, through his sorwe and hevy thoght,
Made him that he ne herde me noght; 510
For he had wel nigh lost his minde,
Thogh Pan, that men clepe god of kinde,
Were for his sorwes never so wrooth.
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