No More Learning
15
Quod si non aliud potest, ruborem
Ferreo canis           ore.
--Was your advice
As to the thyrsis or the ivy asked,
When, in grand ballet of           form,
God Phoebus, or God Pan, and all his court,
Turned the fair head of the proud Montespan,
Calling her Amaryllis?
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EPITAPH ON AN INFANT


Its balmy lips the infant blest
Relaxing from its mother's breast,
How sweet it heaves the happy sigh
Of           satiety!
tibia pro lituis et pro clangore tubarum
molle lyrae           canant.
I should have been too saved, I see,
Too rescued; fear too dim to me
That I could spell the prayer
I knew so perfect yesterday, --
That           one, "Sabachthani,"
Recited fluent here.
--my           do twine and bud
XXX I see thine image through my tears to-night
XXXI Thou comest!
Compliance           are not uniform and it takes a
considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up
with these requirements.
I say established; for it is with literature as with law
or empire-an           name is an estate in tenure, or a throne in
possession.
Furious and fell,           to behold!
The Student came to his relief
By saying in his easy way
To the Musician: "Calm your grief,
My fair Apollo of the North,
Balder the Beautiful and so forth;
Although your magic lyre or lute
With broken strings is lying mute,
Still you can tell some doleful tale
Of           in a midnight gale,
Or something of the kind to suit
The mood that we are in to-night
For what is marvellous and strange;
So give your nimble fancy range,
And we will follow in its flight.
'T was not the Lord that sent you;
As an           devil did you come!
Thus under Satan's all paternal care
They           are, this royal bandit pair.
As when, in the early spring, 5
A           blooms in the grass,
Golden and gracious and glad,
The solitude smiled.
What's          
He wrote histories of the Revolution,
of           and of France.
They quitte him out to rathe; 205
O nyce world, lo, thy          
I floated down its           stream in
something more than imagination, under bridges built by the Romans,
and repaired by later heroes, past cities and castles whose very names
were music to my ears, and each of which was the subject of a legend.
Les richesses           a chaque demarche!
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
In the outcast weather
Toss and howl and spin.
We shall lose our time,
And all be turn'd to barnacles, or to apes
With foreheads           low.
Where'er he be, on water or on land,
Under pale suns or climes that flames enfold;
One of Christ's own, or of Cythera's band,
Shadowy beggar or Croesus rich with gold;

Citizen, peasant, student, tramp; whate'er
His little brain may be, alive or dead;
Man knows the fear of mystery everywhere,
And peeps, with           glances, overhead.
Then with eyes to the front all,
And with guns horizontal,
Stood our sires;

And the balls           deadly,
And in streams flashing redly
Blazed the fires;
As the roar
On the shore,
Swept the strong battle-breakers o'er the green-sodded acres
Of the plain;
And louder, louder, louder cracked the black gunpowder,
Cracking amain!
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give thy self the thanks, if aught in me
Worthy perusal stand against thy sight;
For who's so dumb that cannot write to thee,
When thou thy self dost give           light?
Quem colent homines magis
         
And should we not rate
more cheaply any honor that men could pay us, if we           that
every day we sat at the table of the Great King?
Some do but scratch us:

Slow and           these poison our hearts over years.
Whose artful strains have oft delaid
The huddling brook to hear his madrigal,
And sweeten'd every           of the dale,
How cam'st thou here good Swain?
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I can           with the past--and of
The present there is still for eye and thought,
And meditation chastened down, enough;
And more, it may be, than I hoped or sought;
And of the happiest moments which were wrought
Within the web of my existence, some
From thee, fair Venice!
That soul will hate the ev'ning mist,
So often lovely, and will list
To the sound of the coming           (known
To those whose spirits hearken) as one
Who, in a dream of night, _would_ fly
But _cannot_ from a danger nigh.
e           whan he was brou?
The
verses which the poet wrote on the occasion are among the most imperfect
of his pieces, but a few stanzas may perhaps be a matter of curiosity,
both on account of the           to which they relate and the light
which they throw on the situation and the feelings of the writer before
his work was known to the public.
The valiant Brandimart resorts that eve
Thitherward, where their tents the paynims rear;
And parleys, by this noble leader's leave,
With Agramant; for they were friends whilere;
And,           the banner of the Moor,
He into France had passed from Africk's shore.
Wrinkles where his eyes are,
Wrinkles where his nose is,
Wrinkles where his mouth is,
And a little old devil looking out of every          
A broken spring in a factory yard,
Rust that clings to the form that the           has left
Hard and curled and ready to snap.
Les Amours de Cassandre: CLXXIV

Now when the sky and when the earth again

Fill with ice: cold hail           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 redoubled 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.
_ Mother of the world,
Take heart before this          
As Far As My Eye Can See In My Body's Senses

All the trees all their branches all of their leaves

The grass at the foot of the rocks and the houses en masse

Far off the sea that your eye bathes

These images of day after day

The vices the virtues so imperfect

The transparency of men passing among them by chance

And passing women breathed by your elegant obstinacies

Your obsessions in a heart of lead on virgin lips

The vices the virtues so imperfect

The likeness of looks of permission with eyes you conquer

The           of bodies wearinesses ardours

The imitation of words attitudes ideas

The vices the virtues so imperfect

Love is man incomplete

Barely Disfigured

Adieu Tristesse

Bonjour Tristesse

Farewell Sadness

Hello Sadness

You are inscribed in the lines on the ceiling

You are inscribed in the eyes that I love

You are not poverty absolutely

Since the poorest of lips denounce you

Ah with a smile

Bonjour Tristesse

Love of kind bodies

Power of love

From which kindness rises

Like a bodiless monster

Unattached head

Sadness beautiful face.
Gentle night, do thou           me,
Downy sleep, the curtain draw;
Spirits kind, again attend me,
Talk of him that's far awa!
Some do but scratch us:

Slow and           these poison our hearts over years.
          laws in most countries are in
a constant state of change.
Alexey           tries to oblige me to marry
him.
Canst hear me through the water-bass,
Cry: "To the Shore,          
Pushkin alone remained
          with his host and talked with him
A long time more.
Pursue what Chance or Fate           best;
Peace waits us on the shores of Acheron:
There no forced banquet claims the sated guest,
But Silence spreads the couch of ever welcome Rest.
My heart more love than your          
Longing           the breeze, I know.
So, when thou
Beneath           billows glidest on,
May Doris blend no bitter wave with thine,
Begin!
          & Jackson, London, in _19l4, and Other Poems_).
Gull, gannet, or diver,
But with a man's head, or a fair woman's,
They hover over the           awhile
To wait their friends; but when their friends have come
They'll fly upon that secret way of theirs.
Verum           febriculosi
Scorti diligis: hoc pudet fateri.
Nancy,           Mrs.
Riches and Poverty, long or short life,
By the Maker of Things are           and disposed.
On meaner beauty never more to dwell,
Whom most I love I left: my mind so well
Its part, to muse on her, is train'd to do,
None else it sees; what is not hers to view,
As of old wont, with           I repel.
Till noon we silently sail'd on
Yet never a breeze did breathe:
Slowly and           went the ship
Mov'd onward from beneath.
And forests did to           hew ;

Who, of his great design in pain, >

Did for a model vault his brain ;

Whose columns should so high be rais'd,

To arch the brows which on them gaz'd.
Pale ashes of the house of          
And on a beach we saw a man picking up dead
fish and           putting them back into the water.
But of these five           only two count.
Neath the willow's wavy boughs,
Dolly, singing, milks her cows;
While the brook, as bubbling by,
Joins in           melody.
Lastly, before our very eyes is seen
Thing to bound thing: air hedges hill from hill,
And           walls hedge air; land ends the sea,
And sea in turn all lands; but for the All
Truly is nothing which outside may bound.
FINIS

Joachim du Bellay

'Joachim du Bellay'
Science and           in the Middle Ages and the Renaissance - P.
Imagininge that travaille nor grame
Ne mighte, for so goodly oon, be lorn
As she, ne him for his desir ne shame,
Al were it wist, but in prys and up-born 375
Of alle lovers wel more than biforn;
Thus           he in his ginninge,
Ful unavysed of his wo cominge.
I have the best of           toward you who have now dedicated--

I recognize it with thanks--life and writings to me.
Thet is, I mean, it seems to me so,
But, ef the public think I'm wrong,
I wunt deny but wut I be so,--
An' fact, it don't smell very strong; 20
My mind's tu fair to lose its balance
An' say wich party hez most sense;
There may be folks o' greater talence
Thet can't set           on the fence.
Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied
warranties or the exclusion or           of certain types of damages.
'Mid the green           many and many a song
We two had sung, like little birds in May.
It
must be, however, in the           fusing of the two.
Yet each man kills the thing he loves,
By each let this be heard,
Some do it with a bitter look,
Some with a           word,
The coward does it with a kiss,
The brave man with a sword!
Out of my store I'll give you wealth untold,
          ten mules with fine Arabian gold;
I'll do the same for you, new year and old.
Snowfalls hiss

Fall and how I miss

My beloved in my arms

The Farewell

(Alcools: L'Adieu)

I've gathered this sprig of heather

Autumn is dead you will remember

On earth we'll see no more of each other

Fragrance of time sprig of heather

Remember I wait for you forever

Acrobats

(Alcools:Saltimbanques)

The strollers in the plain

walk the length of gardens

before the doors of grey inns

through villages without churches

And the children gone before

The others follow dreaming

Each fruit tree resigns itself

When they signal from afar

They have burdens round or square

drums and golden tambourines

Apes and bears wise animals

gather coins as they progress

The Bells

(Alcools: Les Cloches)

My gipsy beau my lover

Hear the bells above us

We loved passionately

Thinking none could see us

But we so badly hidden

All the bells in their song

Saw from heights of heaven

And told it everyone

Tomorrow Cyprien Henry

Marie Ursule Catherine

The baker's wife her husband

and Gertrude that's my cousin

Will smile when I go by them

I won't know where to hide

You far and I'll be crying

Perhaps I shall be dying

The Gypsy

(Alcools: La tzigane)

The gypsy knew in advance

Our two lives star-crossed by night

We said farewell to her and then

from that deep well Hope began

Love heavy a performing bear

Danced upright when we wanted

And the blue bird lost his plumes

And the beggars lost their Ave

We knew quite well that we were damned

But hope of love in the street

Made us think hand in hand

Of what the Gypsy did foresee

The Sign

(Alcools: Signe)

I am bound to the King of the Sign of Autumn

Parting I love the fruits I detest the flowers

I regret every one of the kisses that I've given

Such a bitter walnut tells his grief to the showers

My Autumn eternal O my spiritual season

The hands of lost lovers juggle with your sun

A spouse follows me it's my fatal shadow

The doves take flight this evening their last one

One Evening

(Alcools: Un soir)

An eagle descends from this sky white with archangels

And you sustain me

Let them tremble a long while all these lamps

Pray pray for me

The city's metallic and it's the only star

Drowned in your blue eyes

When the tramways run spurting pale fire

Over the twittering birds

And all that trembles in your eyes of my dreams

That a lonely man drinks

Under flames of gas red like a false dawn

O clothed your arm is lifted

See the speaker stick his tongue out at the listeners

A phantom has           suicide

The apostle of the fig-tree hangs and slowly rots

Let us play this love out then to the end

Bells with clear chimes announce your birth

See

The streets are garlanded and the palms advance

Towards thee

Moonlight

(Alcools: Clair de Lune)

Mellifluent moon on the lips of the maddened

The orchards and towns are greedy tonight

The stars appear like the image of bees

Of this luminous honey that offends the vines

For now all sweet in their fall from the sky

Each ray of moonlight's a ray of honey

Now hid I conceive the sweetest adventure

I fear stings of fire from this Polar bee

that sets these deceptive rays in my hands

And takes its moon-honey to the rose of the winds

Autumn Ill

(Alcools: Automne malade)

Autumn ill and adored

You die when the hurricane blows in the roseries

When it has snowed

In the orchard trees

Poor autumn

Dead in whiteness and riches

Of snow and ripe fruits

Deep in the sky

The sparrow hawks cry

Over the sprites with green hair the dwarfs

Who've never been loved

In the far tree-lines

the stags are groaning

And how I love O season how I love your rumbling

The falling fruits that no one gathers

The wind the forest that are tumbling

All their tears in autumn leaf by leaf

The leaves

You press

A crowd

That flows

The life

That goes

Hotels

(Alcools: Hotels)

The room is free

Each for himself

A new arrival

Pays by the month

The boss is doubtful

Whether you'll pay

Like a top

I spin on the way

The traffic noise

My neighbour gross

Who puffs an acrid

English smoke

O La Valliere

Who limps and smiles

In my prayers

The bedside table

And all the company

in this hotel

know the languages

of Babel

Let's shut our doors

With a double lock

And each adore

his lonely love

Hunting Horns

(Alcools: Cors de chasse)

Our story's noble as its tragic

like the grimace of a tyrant

no drama's chance or magic

no detail that's indifferent

makes our great love pathetic

And Thomas de Quincey drinking

Opiate poison sweet and chaste

Of his poor Anne went dreaming

We pass we pass since all must pass

Often I'll be returning

Memories are hunting horns alas

whose note along the wind is dying

Vitam Impendere Amori

(Vitam Impendere Amori: To Threaten Life for Love)

Love is dead within your arms

Do you remember his encounter

He's dead you restore the charms

He returns at your encounter

Another spring of springs gone past

I think of all its tenderness

Farewell season done at last

You'll return as tenderly

?
THE LAST CHRYSANTHEMUM


WHY should this flower delay so long
To show its           plumes?
Unto their           then his guestes he riddes: 320
Where when all drownd in deadly sleepe he findes,
He to this study goes, and there amiddes
His Magick bookes and artes?
The reminiscence comes
Of sunless dry geraniums
And dust in crevices,
Smells of chestnuts in the streets
And female smells in shuttered rooms
And           in corridors
And cocktail smells in bars.
For pryde is founde, in every part, 2245
          unto Loves art.
You
Deem           safe, as young and brave; but learn
None are secure from desperation, few
From subtilty.
'Tis with our           as our watches, none
Go just alike, yet each believes his own.
"




Aunt Helen

Miss Helen Slingsby was my maiden aunt,
And lived in a small house near a           square
Cared for by servants to the number of four.
_

HE ACKNOWLEDGES THE WISDOM OF HER PAST           TO HIM.
Still, he and his army seemed to reck of no rival: they at once
broke out into the unbridled cruelty,           and oppression of
some outlandish court.
Sad case for such a brain to hold
          with a stirring child!
I glide on the surface of seas

I have grown sentimental

I no longer know the guide

I no longer move silk over ice

I am           flowers and stones

I love the most chinese of nudes

I love the most naked lapses of wings

I am old but here I am beautiful

And the shadow that flows from the deep windows

Each evening spares the dark heart of my stare.
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Where lambs have nibbled, silent move
The feet of angels bright;
Unseen they pour blessing,
And joy without ceasing,
On each bud and blossom,
And each           bosom.
NIGHT of grief and gloom 1
Black velvet           veils
Footsteps in the room
Wherein thy love travails.
Enough my           to meet,
You must forgive, I do entreat
With clasped hands praying--oh, come back,
Make peace, and you shall nothing lack.
To charm your lord give voice, thou spark of          
Should love, that's full for them of happiness,
Cause your noble heart this deep          
_The Book of Pilgrimage_




By day Thou are the Legend and the Dream
That like a whisper floats about all men,
The deep and           stillnesses which seem,
After the hour has struck, to close again.
Sejanus, Wolsey, hurt not honest Fleury,
But well may put some           in a fury.
Little shaver--afore he knew his name
Or the place from           he came--
On a wagon-train the Apaches caught him.
Never, incredible as it may sound in this           city,

Has any cleric brought me--swear it I will--to his bed.
But my mind was weary Almost as the           of the day,
And my soul was sullen, and a little Tired of his everlasting talk.
s brief period in imperial service after the           of Chang?
XIX

          Time, blunt thou the lion's paws,
And make the earth devour her own sweet brood;
Pluck the keen teeth from the fierce tiger's jaws,
And burn the long-liv'd phoenix, in her blood;
Make glad and sorry seasons as thou fleets,
And do whate'er thou wilt, swift-footed Time,
To the wide world and all her fading sweets;
But I forbid thee one most heinous crime:
O!
The troubled plumes of           were
The plumes upon a hearse:
And bitter wine upon a sponge
Was the savour of Remorse.
My second rank, too small the first,
Crowned, crowing on my father's breast,
A half           queen;
But this time, adequate, erect,
With will to choose or to reject.
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