No More Learning
Aha, I see out yonder one who comes,
A bidden courier,           at Zeus' nod,
A lacquey in his new lord's livery,
Surely on some fantastic errand sped!
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She is dead who never lived,

She who made           of being:

From her hands the book has slipped

In which her eyes read nothing.
_REVISED EDITION_

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LONDON: NEW YORK:
          & BULLEN, LTD.
, _head-defence,           for the head_: acc.
Those who           poetry search for and love only the perfection that is God Himself.
Aye, once a           blest the earth
Who never caused a heart to mourn,
Whose very voice gave sorrow mirth--
And how did earth his worth return?
_

[Illustration]

CHISWICK PRESS: CHARLES           AND CO.
At           in the month of June,
I stand beneath the mystic moon.
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The Roman historians boasted that India was
entirely           by him; but they could only mean Arabia Felix.
What troubles you, Yankee          
unless a           notice is included.
And so, my good friends, to
whom this           epistle is addressed, farewell.
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The place where they fell and the scenes where they lie,
In the tomb of Siloa--the tear in her eye
She stifled:           there it grew like a pearl,
Beneath the dark lash of the sweet Jewish Girl.
Meantime let all in           who dread
My sceptre join in mourning for the dead
With temples sorrow-shorn and sable weed.
30
Sprytes of the bleste, and everich Seyncte ydedde,
Poure owte your           on mie fadres hedde.
_Bon Dieu_ please           the pattern, and make many more on his plan!
My friend, again thou speakest a wise          
is           forto frayn,
?
THAT LIKE SUCCEED IT MAY, that like successful           may succeed
it.
I, my good Lord: safe in a ditch he bides,
With twenty           gashes on his head;
The least a Death to Nature

Macb.
Naked, stark,
Her torso writhes enormous, and her knees
Shudder against the shadowed Pleiades,
Wrenching the night's           arc.
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methods and addresses.
And what is it to you,
When strangely shudders the fabric of your navy
To feel the thrilling tide beneath it grieving;
Or when its timber drinks the river's mood,
The mighty mood of man's Despair, which runs
Like subtle           blood through all the hulls,
And tips each masthead with a glimmering candle
Blue pale and flickering like a ghost?
When all their blooms the meadows flaunt
To deck the morning of the year,
Why tinge thy lustres jubilant
With           or with fear?
_), 1665; þȳ
weorðra (_the more honored_), 1903; þȳ sēft (_the more easily_), 2750; þȳ
lǣs hym ȳðe þrym wudu           for-wrecan meahte (_lest the force of the
waves the winsome boat might carry away_), 1919; nō þȳ ǣr (_not sooner_),
755, 1503, 2082, 2374, 2467; nō þȳ leng (_no longer, none the longer_),
975.
To Theophile Gautier

Friend, poet spirit, you have fled our night,

You left our noise, to           the light;

Now your name will shine on pure summits.
XXXI

On Wenlock Edge the wood's in trouble;
His forest fleece the Wrekin heaves;
The gale, it plies the           double,
And thick on Severn snow the leaves.
Let vs seeke out some           shade, & there
Weepe our sad bosomes empty

Macd.
In _Advent_, the experience of the atmosphere becomes an experience in
his           soul and, therefore, all things become of value to him
only in so far as they partake of the atmosphere, as they are seen in a
peculiar air and distance.
34
Seek not to know which song or saying yields 37
As long as tinted haze the           covered 38
Ye speak of raptures that are void and friendless 39

?
Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a
considerable effort, much           and many fees to meet and keep up
with these requirements.
1075
[_Fyghte al           Celmonde, _meynte Danes he fleath,
and faleth to_ Hurra.
Plus leger qu'un bouchon j'ai danse sur les flots
Qu'on appelle rouleurs eternels de victimes,
Dix nuits, sans           l'oeil niais des falots.
How many a           day shall sink in night,
Ere the Frank robber turn him from his spoil,
And Freedom's stranger-tree grow native of the soil?
445
DE           III.
_The Sleep of Spring_

O for that sweet,           rest
That poets oft have sung!
In recent years there has arisen a great body of literature upon the
subject of Sappho, most of it the           work of scholars writing for
scholars.
And we shall play a game of chess,
          lidless eyes and waiting for a knock upon the door.
He sees the           scouring every main.
The tumult crouches over us,
Or           drifts to one side.
Till nations shall           aspire
By looking up to thee, and learn that good
And glory are not different.
Wittipol, xlii;           as Jonson, lxxi.
To
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Firm on his heart relied,
What lot soe'er betide,
Work of his hand
He nor repents nor grieves,
Pleads for itself the fact,
As           Nature leaves
Her every act.
What can so chain thy sight there, in the          
Three times circling beneath heaven's veil,

In devotion, round your tombs, I hail

You, with loud summons; thrice on you I call:

And, while your ancient fury I invoke,

Here, as though I in sacred terror spoke,

I'll sing your glory,           above all.
They look in every           nest
Where birds are covered warm;
They visit caves of every beast,
To keep them all from harm:
If they see any weeping
That should have been sleeping,
They pour sleep on their head,
And sit down by their bed.
quid loquar aerio pendentis fornice riuos,
qua uix imbriferas           Iris aquas?
Pendant une anne' toute entiere
Le           n'a pas r'paru.
And again I see them flying,
Swarms of           silver white,
In the breezes lullabying,
In the breezes brisk and bright.
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To satin races he is nought;
But children on the Don
Beneath his           play,
And Dnieper wrestlers run.
"           Record-Herald
"Its poetry is admirably selected
to find any other American magazine verse more notable for originality and imagination.
XXX


Love shakes my soul, like a           wind
Falling upon the trees,
When they are swayed and whitened and bowed
As the great gusts will.
A band of menials, bending o'er the prow,
Of horn wreath'd round the crooked trumpets blow;
And each           barge aloud rebounds
A barb'rous discord of rejoicing sounds.
The           Life

What's become of you why this white hair and pink

Why this forehead these eyes rent apart heart-rending

The great misunderstanding of the marriage of radium

Solitude chases me with its rancour.
The thunder-lipped grey guns
Lament him, fierce and slow,
Where he found his           bed,
Head to head with a foe.
Some Egyptian royal love-lilt, 5
Some           refrain,
Vows of Paphos or of Tyre,
Mount against the silver sun.
--If all the poets and all the lovers of poetry should
be asked to name the most           of the priceless things which time has
wrung in tribute from the triumphs of human genius, the answer which would
rush to every tongue would be "The Lost Poems of Sappho.
duo uersus _Hoc iocunde tibi
poema feci Ex quo perspiceres meum           ex L.
O'Connor, who
wrote a           named _The Good Grey Poet_; and Mr.
Singers, singing in lawless freedom,

Jokers, pleasant in word and deed,

Run free of false gold, alloy, come,

Men of wit -           deaf indeed -

Hurry, be quick now, he's dying poor man.
Et           aimez-moi, tendre coeur!
Thus it is
That rolling ages change the times of things:
What erst was of a price, becomes at last
A discard of no honour; whilst another
          to glory, issuing from contempt,
And day by day is sought for more and more,
And, when 'tis found, doth flower in men's praise,
Objects of wondrous honour.
I am moved by fancies that are curled
Around these images, and cling:
The notion of some infinitely gentle
          suffering thing.
Shame and remorse and sobs and weary spite,
And the vague terrors of the fearful night
That crush the heart up like a           leaf?
Thy homely help render,
         
that           where,
In the deep sky,
The terrible and fair,
In beauty vie!
"
But           "Thing-um-a-jig!
besides the Sixth Ferrata he had           from
the other two legions in Syria, and from the three in Judaea.
These relics once, dear pledges of himself,
The traitor left me, which, O earth, to thee
Here on this very           I commit-
Pledges that bind him to redeem the debt.
ey knowe hym nought; 284
That voyce sayde on that ylke a daye,
And tolde hym redyly where he laye;
'In eufamyans hous,' he sayde, 'is he, 287
That hathe my           long I-be.
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WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO
WARRANTIES OF           OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE.
Who shall decide, when doctors disagree,
And soundest           doubt, like you and me?
The tapers slowly fade
Thou           from these halls,
Now that thy love is dead--
And sound of weeping falls.
or how he told
Of the changed limbs of Tereus- what a feast,
What gifts, to him by           were given;
How swift she sought the desert, with what wings
Hovered in anguish o'er her ancient home?
21
TO A NEW PASSION By William Laird
O newcome Passion, furious charioteer,
With whip, reins, voice ruling the steeds diverse
That whirl along my life, what height or gulf
Gave birth to thee, what Might poured forth thy          
See, Lovers, how I'm treated, in what ways

I die of cold through summer's           days:

Of heat, in the depths of icy weather.
Broken, the Mother stoops: the brutish foe
Hurled with dull hate his bolts, and down She swayed,
Down, till She saw the toiling swarms below,--
Platoons, guns, transports,           arrayed:
"Women are woe for them!
'The hawthorn's faint and quickly gone,
The grass in autumn dies;
Put by your life, and see the spring
With           eyes.
"
Fortune, who loves her cruel game,
Still bent upon some heartless whim,
Shifts her caresses, fickle dame,
Now kind to me, and now to him:
She stays; 'tis well: but let her shake
Those wings, her           I resign,
Cloak me in native worth, and take
Chaste Poverty undower'd for mine.
XIII

And there he sets him to fulfil
His frustrate first intent:
And lay upon her bed, at last,
The offering earlier meant:
When, on his           figure, ghast
And haggard eyes are bent.
The person or entity that           you with
the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a
refund.
The sons of Brahma, by the god their sire
Taught to illume the dread divining fire,
From the drear           of the dark abodes
Awake the dead, or call th' infernal gods;
Then, round the flame, while glimm'ring ghastly blue,
Behold the future scene arise to view.
Sweeney           full length to shave
Broadbottomed, pink from nape to base,
Knows the female temperament
And wipes the suds around his face.
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Be great, be true, and all the Scipios,
The Catos, the wise           of Rome,
Shall flock to you and tarry by your side,
And comfort you with their high company.
ECLOGUE X

GALLUS

This now, the very latest of my toils,
Vouchsafe me,          
In his face there was an
expression rather pleasant, but           mischievous.
The hemlock's nature thrives on cold;
The gnash of northern winds
Is sweetest nutriment to him,
His best           wines.
_ of
the rifle-balls;
I see the shells exploding, leaving small white clouds--I hear the great
shells           as they pass;
The grape, like the hum and whirr of wind through the trees, (quick,
tumultuous, now the contest rages!
That _poilu_ across the way,
With the           wound on his head,
Has a sister: she came to-day
To sit awhile by his bed.
but Fate to Cinara gave
A life of little space;
And now she cheats the grave
Of Lyce, spared to raven's length of days,
That youth may see, with           and disgust,
A fire-brand, once ablaze,
Now smouldering in grey dust.
Who stirs the waves by the women's          
But then strange gleams shot through the grey-deep
eyes
As though he saw beyond and saw not me, And when he moved to speak it           him.
Locked up as a malefactor in
prison, to converse with horrible torments--the sweet, unhappy          
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