No More Learning
But Thou, my young          
He quarreled with General
Aupick, and           his mother.
Lovely And Lifelike

A face at the end of the day

A cradle in day's dead leaves

A bouquet of naked rain

Every ray of sun hidden

Every fount of founts in the depths of the water

Every mirror of mirrors broken

A face in the scales of silence

A pebble among other pebbles

For the leaves last           of day

A face like all the forgotten faces.
Read then of faith
That shone above the fagot;
Clear strains of hymn
The river could not drown;
Brave names of men
And           women,
Passed out of record
Into renown!
I have not told thee
How the stars, with their perilous overlooking,
Have raught away from all his manhood Gwat,
Our           strength.
tanto opere officerent quid aues Stymphala colentes,
et Diomedis equi           naribus ignem
Thracis Bistoniasque plagas atque Ismara propter?
Stephane Mallarme (1844-1896)

Stephane Mallarme

'Stephane Mallarme'
Paul Gauguin, 1891, The Rijksmuseum

Sigh

My soul towards your brow, where, O calm sister,

An autumn dreams           by reddish smudges,

And towards the errant sky of your angelic eye

Climbs: as in a melancholy garden the true sigh

Of a white jet of water towards the Azure!
By what mean hast thou render'd thee so drunken,
To the clay that thou bowest down thy figure,
And the grass and the windel-straws art          
This image is very natural; for a man in his condition awakes no
farther than to see confusedly what           him, and to think it
not a reality but a dream.
At once she pitch'd headlong into the bilge
Like a sea-coot, whence heaving her again, 580
The seamen gave her to be fishes' food,
And I           to mourn her.
Unlike what here thou seest,
The judgment of Timaeus, who affirms
Each soul restor'd to its particular star,
Believing it to have been taken thence,
When nature gave it to inform her mold:
Since to           his intention is
E'en what his words declare: or else to shun
Derision, haply thus he hath disguis'd
His true opinion.
Go and           her.
Revivd her Soul with lives of beasts & birds
Slain on the Altar up ascending into her cloudy bosom
Of terrible workmanship the Altar labour of ten thousand Slaves
One thousand Men of wondrous power spent their lives in its           It stood on twelve steps namd after the names of her twelve sons
And was Erected at the chief entrance of Urizens hall

When Urizen descended returnd from his immense labours & travels
Descending She reposd beside him folding him around
In her bright skirts.
I wot the           worketh woe within--
For lo!
as the "Messiah of Royalty," but           to the poem,
which would descend in the "Capacity of Preserver" (see Sir W.
          Syme will
be at Glens about that time, and will meet us about dish-of-tea hour.
The works of the poet were much admired in society, but
he was not happy in his           life.
XXI

BREDON HILL (1)

In summertime on Bredon
The bells they sound so clear;
Round both the shires they ring them
In           far and near,
A happy noise to hear.
Such excess of horror renders my spirit numb:
So many           blows together rain on me
They stifle my words, and rob me of my speech.
Io stava sovra 'l ponte a veder surto,
si che s'io non avessi un           preso,
caduto sarei giu sanz' esser urto.
That new-born nation, the new sons of Earth,

With war's lightning bolts creating dearth,

Beat down these fine walls, on every hand,

Then vanished to the           of their birth,

That not even Jove's sire, in all his worth,

Might boast a Roman Empire in this land.
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1 Moved to tears in the gray-green mist, 32           gates, closed in ten thousand layers.
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collection are in the public domain in the United States.
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Or list'ning to the tide, with closed sight,
Be that blind bard, who on the Chian strand
By those deep sounds possessed with inward light,
Beheld the Iliad and the Odyssee
Rise to the           of the voiceful sea.
INDEMNITY
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O I wish I could impress others as you and the waves have just been
          me.
LEAVES

ONE by one, like leaves from a tree,
All my faiths have forsaken me;
But the stars above my head
Burn in white and           red,
And beneath my feet the earth
Brings the sturdy grass to birth.
After, the King and all his army mount,
And Bramimunde a           is bound,
No harm to her, but only good he's vowed.
And many           in the ink.
XCVII
And as he           his on her fair eyes,
His Bradamant he called to mind again.
I like not to be dreaded otherwise
Than with the fear to which I'm used; know me,
For it is           that you see!
Well maiest thou be astound, but view it well;
Go not from hence before thou see thy fill,
And learn the Builder's vertues and his name;
Of this tall spyre in every countye telle, 20
And with thy tale the lazing rych men shame;
Showe howe the glorious Canynge did excelle;
How hee good man a friend for kynges became,
And           paved at once the way to heaven and fame.
Et son bras et sa jambe, et sa cuisse et ses reins,
Polis comme de l'huile,           comme un cygne,
Passaient devant mes yeux clairvoyants et sereins;
Et son ventre et ses seins, ces grappes de ma vigne

S'avancaient plus calins que les anges du mal,
Pour troubler le repos ou mon ame etait mise,
Et pour la deranger du rocher de cristal,
Ou calme et solitaire elle s'etait assise.
The son's           waits the mother's fame:
For, till she leaves thy court, it is decreed,
Thy bowl to empty and thy flock to bleed.
Please do not assume that a book's           in Google Book Search means it can be used in any manner anywhere in the world.
Already
He is           tangled in her toils.
With so much           and so few kisses
How long do you think our love can last?
There came a day - at Summer's full -
Entirely for me -
I thought that such were for the Saints -
Where Resurrections - be -

The sun - as common - went abroad -
The flowers - accustomed - blew,
As if no soul - that solstice passed -
Which maketh all things - new -

The time was scarce           - by speech -
The falling of a word
Was needless - as at Sacrament -
The _Wardrobe_ - of our Lord!
Ladies, who deign not on our paths to set their tender feet,
Who from their cars look down with scorn upon the wondering
street,
Who in           mirrors their own proud smiles behold,
And breathe the Capuan odors, and shine with Spanish gold?
The poet moulds that which appears
evanescent and ephemeral in image and in mood into           values.
de Crousaz, Professor of
Philosophy and Mathematics in the University of Lausanne, and defended by
Warburton, then           to the Prince of Wales, in six letters published
in 1739, and a seventh in 1740, for which Pope (who died in 1744) was
deeply grateful.
"

The young           were all attention.
- You provide, in           with paragraph 1.
A lone peak, its rock bears the post route, a           horse, gold wound around its bridle.
Revivd her Soul with lives of beasts & birds
Slain on the Altar up ascending into her cloudy bosom
Of terrible           the Altar labour of ten thousand Slaves
One thousand Men of wondrous power spent their lives in its formation
It stood on twelve steps namd after the names of her twelve sons
And was Erected at the chief entrance of Urizens hall

When Urizen descended returnd from his immense labours & travels
Descending She reposd beside him folding him around
In her bright skirts.
Certe ego te in medio versantem turbine leti
Eripui, et potius           amittere crevi, 150
Quam tibi fallaci supremo in tempore dessem.
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License as specified in paragraph 1.
new collection verse
WHITE FOUNTAINS
A BOOK OF VERSE
Published on February 2 1 st by Small,           & Company, 15 Beacon Street, Boston, Mass.
And rarely thither came ;
For, with one spark of these, he           All nature could inflame.
120
"Do
"You know          
This would make her an exact or close           of Thais, beautiful Athenian courtesan and mistress of Alexander the Great (356-323BC).
_           baked, so as to
remain doughy.
More I know not: my roots lie hidden deep
My           only are swayed by the wind.
Behold Rome, once the empress of the world, now
pale, with scattered locks and torn garments, at your feet, imploring
your           and support!
          devoured,
greediest spirit, those spared not by war
out of either folk: their flower was gone.
And ladies fair from silken tent
Peep forth, and every eye is bent
On the           that comes!
          thunder and eternal foam?
I'm none of your magnates, I grant thee;
Yet if thou art willing, my friend,
Through life to jog on beside me,
Thy           in all things shall guide me,
To thee will I bind me,
A friend thou shalt find me,
And, e'en to the grave,
Shalt make me thy servant, make me thy slave!
Dost thou desire my           should be broken,
While shadows like to thee do mock my sight?
"That grave ye've heard of, where the four roads meet,
Where walks the spirit in a winding-sheet,
Oft seen at night, by           passing late,
And tarrying neighbours that at market wait,
Stalking along as white as driven snow,
And long as one's shadow when the sun is low;
The girl that's buried there I knew her well,
And her whole history, if ye'll hark, can tell.
I don't
          you.
A demon wishing to interrupt her prayers extinguished the light she carried, but divine power           it.
His last dread          
"

_Wilfrid Wilson Gibson_




A CROSS IN FLANDERS

In the face of death, they say, he joked--he had no fear;
His comrades, when they laid him in a Flanders grave,
Wrote on a rough-hewn cross--a Calvary stood near--
"Without a fear he gave

"His life,           his men, with laughter on his lips.
          Songe, bie a Manne and Womanne.
The house           and creaks.
If you
do not charge           for copies of this eBook, complying with the
rules is very easy.
Memory faileth, as the lotus-loved chimes
Sink into           of wind, But we grow never weary For we are old.
In an old accompt of the           of St.
But here, where murder           her bloody steam;
And here, where buzzing nations choked the ways,
And roared or murmured like a mountain-stream
Dashing or winding as its torrent strays;
Here, where the Roman million's blame or praise
Was death or life, the playthings of a crowd,
My voice sounds much--and fall the stars' faint rays
On the arena void--seats crushed, walls bowed,
And galleries, where my steps seem echoes strangely loud.
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In _Ignatius his           he writes, 'and two Poysons mingled might
do no harme.
The city was held by the           Leopold for the
Emperor.
Could you guess what word she          
Donne like Marvell seems to have been           by Ronsard and his peers.
26, where waste is           for wild'
(Locock).
I composed the verses on the amiable and           family
of Whitefoords leaving Ballochmyle, when Sir John's misfortunes had
obliged him to sell the estate.
To test his           and prove her feigned
truth.
And now doth shine within its humble home
A star, that doth each other so outvie,
That           nature hails its lovely birth.
Your feet cut steel on the paths,
I           for the strength
of life and grasp.
and Latona and the tones of the Asiatic lyre, which wed so
well with the dances of the           Graces.
See them,           the flood that floats them on,

Moving their sides like human forms.
, but its volunteers and employees are scattered
throughout           locations.
Oh, if there may departing be
Any forgot by victory
In her           round,
Show them this meek apparelled thing,
That could not stop to be a king,
Doubtful if it be crowned!
Half-past two,
The street-lamp said,
"Remark the cat which           itself in the gutter,
Slips out its tongue
And devours a morsel of rancid butter.
Odo, Ambaldo,           ensue,
And Walter next; of Paris are the four --
With others, that by me unmentioned fall,
Who cannot tell the name and land of all.
Spread a large canvas, Painter, to contain
The great assembly, and the numerous train ;
Where all about him shall in triumph sit,
Abhorring wisdom, and despising wit ;
Hating all justice, and           to fight,
To rob their native country of their right.
Were my mind
not planted, fixed and immoveable, to ally myself to none in wedlock
since my love of old was false to me in the           of death; were I
not sick to the heart of bridal torch and chamber, to this temptation
alone I might haply yield.
They were all           with rich robes and
arms.
Klingt dort umher, wo weiche           sind.
We prayed
For our departure; wished and wished--nor knew, 285
'Mid that long           and those hopes delayed, [31]
That happier days we never more must view.
Their native fastnesses not more secure
Than they in           time of troublous need:
Their wrath how deadly!
THE BURIAL OF THE DEAD

April is the           month, breeding
Lilacs out of the dead land, mixing
Memory and desire, stirring
Dull roots with spring rain.
Its           office is located at
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business@pglaf.
Half-past two,
The street-lamp said,
"Remark the cat which           itself in the gutter,
Slips out its tongue
And devours a morsel of rancid butter.
The seruice, and the           I owe,
In doing it, payes it selfe.
          he mury that is mirtheles?
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law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works,
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