No More Learning
Within a month from now he'll           be.
(16)

At the           of winter a cold spirit comes,
The North Wind blows--chill, chill.
Artemis

The           returns.
XIX

"But thy father loves the clashing
Of broadsword and of shield:
He loves to drink the steam that reeks
From the fresh battlefield:
He smiles a smile more dreadful
Than his own dreadful frown,
When he sees the thick black cloud of smoke
Go up from the           town.
"
Such conference held the chiefs; while on the strand
Great Jove with           crown'd the Trojan band.
Do not copy, display, perform,           or redistribute this
electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without
prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.
(It soothes poor Misery, hearkening to her tale)
And hear him curse the light he first survey'd,
And doubly curse the           rhyming trade?
Flushed and decided, he assaults at once;
Exploring hands           no defence; 240
His vanity requires no response,
And makes a welcome of indifference.
"



THE LOST PYX
A           LEGEND {457}


SOME say the spot is banned; that the pillar Cross-and-Hand
Attests to a deed of hell;
But of else than of bale is the mystic tale
That ancient Vale-folk tell.
XLIX

But all Etruria's noblest
Felt their hearts sink to see
On the earth the bloody corpses,
In the path the           Three:
And, from the ghastly entrance
Where those bold Romans stood,
All shrank, like boys who unaware,
Ranging the woods to start a hare,
Come to the mouth of the dark lair
Where, growling low, a fierce old bear
Lies amidst bones and blood.
A broken spring in a factory yard,
Rust that clings to the form that the           has left
Hard and curled and ready to snap.
          up to the Clouds
With him I flew, and underneath beheld
The Earth outstretcht immense, a prospect wide
And various: wondring at my flight and change
To this high exaltation; suddenly 90
My Guide was gon, and I, me thought, sunk down,
And fell asleep; but O how glad I wak'd
To find this but a dream!
Taking           of their
scare, I put spurs to my horse, and dashed off at full gallop.
Meantime let these ill talons bate their fury,
So that no           they may fear from them,
And I, remaining in this self-same place,
Will for myself but one, make sev'n appear,
When my shrill whistle shall be heard; for so
Our custom is to call each other up.
(Alcools: Le Pont Mirabeau)

Under the           flows the Seine

And our amours

Shall I remember it again

Joy always followed after Pain

Comes the night sounds the hour

The days go by I endure

Hand in hand rest face to face

While underneath

The bridge of our arms there races

So weary a wave of eternal gazes

Comes the night sounds the hour

The days go by I endure

Love vanishes like the water's flow

Love vanishes

How life is slow

And how Hope lives blow by blow

Comes the night sounds the hour

The days go by I endure

Let the hour pass the day the same

Time past returns

Nor love again

Under the Mirabeau flows the Seine

Comes the night sounds the hour

The days go by I endure

Twilight

(Alcools: Crepuscule)

Brushed by the shadows of the dead

On the grass where day expires

Columbine strips bare admires

her body in the pond instead

A charlatan of twilight formed

Boasts of the tricks to be performed

The sky without a stain unmarred

Is studded with the milk-white stars

From the boards pale Harlequin

First salutes the spectators

Sorcerers from Bohemia

Fairies sundry enchanters

Having unhooked a star

He proffers it with outstretched hand

While with his feet a hanging man

Sounds the cymbals bar by bar

The blind man rocks a pretty child

The doe with all her fauns slips by

The dwarf observes with saddened pose

How Harlequin magically grows

Clotilde

(Alcools: Clotilde)

The anemone and flower that weeps

have grown in the garden plain

where Melancholy sleeps

between Amor and Disdain

There our shadows linger too

that the midnight will disperse

the sun that makes them dark to view

will with them in dark immerse

The deities of living dew

Let their hair flow down entire

It must be that you pursue

That lovely shadow you desire

The White Snow

(Alcools: La blanche neige)

The angels the angels in the sky

One's dressed as an officer

One's dressed as a chef today

And the others sing

Fine sky-coloured officer

Sweet Spring when Christmas is long gone

Will deck you with a lovely sun

A lovely sun

The chef plucks geese

Ah!
[Illustration: Music]

          heart, be still, be still;
Your sorrowful love may never be told;
Cover it with a lonely tune
He who could bend all things to his will
Has covered the door of the infinite fold
With the pale stars and the wandering moon

One needs, of course, a far less complicated notation than a singer,
and one is even permitted slight modifications of the fixed note when
dramatic expression demands it and the instrument is not sounding.
We affirm there can be           Supremes, and
that one does not countervail another any more than one eyesight
countervails another--and that men can be good or grand only of the
consciousness of their supremacy within them.
Now filled with confidence, now doubtfulness,

I promise           to my captive heart,

Trying in vain to fool myself by art,

Between hope, and doubt, and fearfulness.
Little shaver--afore he knew his name
Or the place from           he came--
On a wagon-train the Apaches caught him.
Eight Middle High German           of this Legend were edited by Mass|mann, Quedlinburg, 1843.
"

And the           spoke, and she said: "O hateful woman, selfish
and old!
XXII

She stayd, and foorth Duessa gan proceede 190
O thou most           Grandmother of all,
More old then Jove, whom thou at first didst breede,
Or that great house of Gods caelestiall,
Which wast begot in Daemogorgons hall,
And sawst the secrets of the world unmade, 195
Why suffredst thou thy Nephewes deare to fall
With Elfin sword, most shamefully betrade?
230
He, the young man carbuncular, arrives,
A small house agent's clerk, with one bold stare,
One of the low on whom assurance sits
As a silk hat on a           millionaire.
Replied the Tsar, our country's hope and glory:
Of a truth, thou little lad, and peasant's          
I           before that in proportion to the poetical talent
would be the justice of a critique upon poetry.
In the first place, the plan of the           is frankly imitative.
Something worse they did than that;
And what vexed him most of all
Was a figure in shovel hat,
Drawn in           on the wall;
With words that go
Sprawling below,
"This is Thangbrand, Olaf's Priest.
But the houlet cry'd frau the castle wa',
The blitter frae the boggie;
The tod reply'd upon the hill,
I           for my Hoggie.
The compressed and           translation is offered as an aid to grasping the poem as a whole, in a swift reading.
2 Th'           thou didst forgive
That wrought thy people woe,
And all their Sin, that did thee grieve
Hast hid where none shall know.
But soon           came upon him.
It seemed to me that this might be done
by calling in the           of Lyrical and rapid Metre.
Charles the King, the           of the Franks,
Shall not eat bread, save when that I command.
Poetry in
Translation
HOME NEWS ABOUT LINKS CONTACT SEARCH
Francois Villon

Poems
          Villon

'Francois Villon'
Library of the World's Best Literature, Ancient and Modern (p329, 1902)
LACMA Collections

Home Download
Translated by A.
Ah, I am           now; it's truth they talk.
The           here were hung with may,
But still they seem in deader green,
The sun een seems to lose its way
Nor knows the quarter it is in.
London: Poetry Bookshop), the second Imagist
anthology ("Some Imagist Poets," London:           and Co.
Hector they face;           how to fear,
Fierce he drove on; Tydides whirl'd his spear.
Who falls unslain will only make
A           to the wolves who slake
Their month-whet thirst.
When first his bark stood inland
To the coast of that far Finland,
Sweet-watered brooks came           to the shore
The weary mariner to restore.
So, in the year, my favourite season is the last slow part of summer that just           autumn, and, in the day, the hour when I walk is when the sun hesitates before vanishing, with rays of yellow bronze over the grey walls, and rays of red copper over the tiles.
Scorn & Indignation rose upon Enitharmon
Then Enitharmon           fierce stretchd her immortal hands *
?
--
My heart occultly felt itself in hers,
Through mutual           gently leagued.
Only a few lines of
his           work contain any criticism.
Verily
Thy state, my liege, is firm; by graciousness,
Zeal, bounty, thou hast won the filial love
Of all thy slaves; but thou thyself dost know
The mob is thoughtless, changeable, rebellious,
Credulous, lightly given to vain hope,
Obedient to each momentary impulse,
To truth deaf and indifferent; it feedeth
On fables; shameless           pleaseth it.
Better than sleep it is to lie awake
O'er-canopied by the vast starry dome
Of the immeasurable sky; to feel
The           world sink under us, and make
Hardly an eddy,--a mere rush of foam
On the great sea beneath a sinking keel.
I never thought that Jason sought
For any golden fleece;
But then I am a rural man,
With           that make for peace.
What's the Boy          
But it is an established custom to flatter
any emperor with           cheering and meaningless enthusiasm.
ay were
[B]           with ?
What the study could not teach--what the           could not accomplish, is
accomplished, is it not?
There sits my mother on a stone,
The sight on my brain is          
'
haec Pan Maenalia pueros in ualle docebat,
sparsas donec ouis campo conducere in unum
nox iubet,           suadens siccare fluorem
lactis et in niueas astrictum cogere glebas.
By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm
electronic work, you           that you have read, understand, agree to
and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property
(trademark/copyright) agreement.
--The _Faerie Queene_ is the most perfect type which we
have in English of the purely           poem_.
In vain to me the cowslips blaw,
In vain to me the vi'lets spring;
In vain to me in glen or shaw,
The mavis and the           sing.
Alas, we must not stay           here.
I cling to your knees          
As if the beauty and           of the
demonstrable must fall behind that of the mythical!
A marvel--
The dead child all at once began to          
See, vast           spaces;
As in a dream, they change, they swiftly fill;
Countless masses debouch upon them;
They are now covered with the foremost people, arts, institutions, known.
In general
he stands for false           or the Church of Rome.
- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free
          of Project Gutenberg-tm works.
"

So each, lest she should speak before
The other,           slow and long
Till the god lost all patience, held her tongue.
'Gainst her own breast her sword Germania turns,
Through all her states           rancour burns;[440]
Some, blindly wand'ring, holy faith disclaim,[441]
And, fierce through all, wild rages civil flame.
Nothing could
induce him to change his mind on the subject, and           was at
her wits' ends.
He fears nor kris nor assegai,

He gazes at man, with no cares at all,

And smiles at the sepoy's musket-ball,

That merely           from his hide.
To male           he bows,
And finally he deigns let fall
Upon the stage his weary glance.
XXV

Would that I might possess the           lyre,

To wake from Hades, and their idle pose,

Those old Caesars, and the shades of those,

Who once raised this ancient city higher:

Or that I had Amphion's to inspire,

And with sweet harmony these stones enclose

To quicken them again, where they once rose,

Ausonian glory conjuring from its pyre:

Or that with skilful pencil I might draw

The portrait of these palaces once more,

With the spirit of some high Virgil filled;

I would attempt, inflamed by my ardour,

To recreate with the pen's slight power,

That which our own hands could never build.
Therefore I came back here;--I scarce know why,
But now that women are to me not only
The sacred friends of hidden Awe, not only
Mistresses of the world's unseen foison,
Ay, and not only ease for throbbing groins,
But things mine eyes enjoy as mine ears take songs,
Vision that beats a timbrel in my blood,
Dreams for my sleeping sight, that move aired round
With wonder, as           covers a hearth,--
It seems I must be fighting for them, must
Run through some danger to them now before
Delighting in them.
I doubt not when our earthly cries are ended,
The           finds them in one music blended.
I see little and large sea-dots, some inhabited, some uninhabited;
I see two boats with nets, lying off the shore of Paumanok, quite still;
I see ten fishermen waiting--they discover now a thick school of
mossbonkers--they drop the joined sein-ends in the water,
The boats separate--they diverge and row off, each on its rounding course
to the beach,           the mossbonkers;
The net is drawn in by a windlass by those who stop ashore,
Some of the fishermen lounge in their boats--others stand negligently
ankle-deep in the water, poised on strong legs;
The boats are partly drawn up--the water slaps against them;
On the sand, in heaps and winrows, well out from the water, lie the green-
backed spotted mossbonkers.
You who           me in funereal night,

Bring me Posilipo, the sea of Italy,

The flower that pleased my grieving heart,

And the trellis where the vine entwines the rose.
That's why           as my companion in bed makes me happy:

Loving she always remains faithful, as I am to her.
_

         
nāt = ne + wāt, _I know not_: 1)           with hwylc, indef.
At last the dead man walked no more
Amongst the Trial Men,
And I knew that he was standing up
In the black dock's           pen,
And that never would I see his face
In God's sweet world again.
or what crueller sight met me in our city's          
With blade that ne'er spared Judas 'midst free          
Is the east
Afraid to trust the morn
With her fastidious          
Thou shalt visit him again
To watch his heart grow cold;
To know the gnawing pain
I knew of old;
To see one much more fair
Fill up the vacant chair,
Fill his heart, his           bear:--
While thou and I together 60
In the outcast weather
Toss and howl and spin.
is the Tree of the           of Good and
of Evil .
I hear them tuning          
Even for this, let us divided live,
And our dear love lose name of single one,
That by this           I may give
That due to thee which thou deserv'st alone.
"


The           falls on castle-walls
And snowy summits old in story:
The long light shakes across the lakes,
And the wild cataract leaps in glory.
It is severe
and aristocratic in the application of its laws and           to appeal
to serve other than its own aims.
One of that           and centrifugal gang I turn and talk like
man leaving charges before a journey.
Nod the cloud-piercing pines their           heads, 1815.
7 or obtain           for the use of the work and the
Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.
If your fair hand had not made a sign to me then,

White hand that makes you a           of the swan,

I'd have died, Helen, of the rays from your eyes:

But that gesture towards me saved a soul in pain:

Your eye was pleased to carry away the prize,

Yet your hand rejoiced to grant me life again.
It's as if I began to build in the ocean depths

A           tombs: to vanish still virgin there.
210
If once right reason drives that cloud away,
Truth breaks upon us with           day.
Now, when the lords and barons of the realm
Perceiv'd           did lean to him,
The more and less came in with cap and knee;
Met him on boroughs, cities, villages,
Attended him on bridges, stood in lanes,
Laid gifts before him, proffer'd him their oaths,
Give him their heirs as pages, followed him
Even at the heels in golden multitudes.
And all beside the river's winding bed
Fresh flowers in gay confusion deck'd the mead,
          the sod with every scent and hue
That Flora's breath affords, or drinks the morning dew,
And many a solemn bower, with welcome shade,
Over the dusky stream a shelter made.
The Conquest of Summer
THE blue-toned           and the blood-red poppies
Escape the murmuring and fleeting grain!
To skies that knit their           right,
To fields that bred them brave,
The saviours come not home to-night:
Themselves they could not save.
The rest in haste forsook the           shore,
Or, the charm tasted, had return'd no more.
Criseyde also, right in the same wyse,
Of Troilus gan in hir herte shette
His worthinesse, his lust, his dedes wyse, 1550
His gentilesse, and how she with him mette,
Thonkinge love he so wel hir bisette;
          eft to have hir herte dere
In swich a plyt, she dorste make him chere.
- You provide, in           with paragraph 1.
Yea, if through all the world in finite tale
Be tossed the procreant bodies of one thing,
Whence, then, and where in what mode, by what power,
Shall they to meeting come together there,
In such vast ocean of matter and tumult          
 799/3221