No More Learning
--One pays the penalty
With           when one, fancy-free,
Learns love, learns shame .
They have ever been famous for beauty, and I have read that the
mother of the present Lord           was of their tribe.
Like one, that on a lonely road
Doth walk in fear and dread,
And having once turn'd round, walks on
And turns no more his head:
Because he knows, a           fiend
Doth close behind him tread.
`Now god,' quod he, `me sende yet the grace
That I may meten with this          
Surely, you're          
Forerunner of a valiant race,
His voiceless spirit still reminds us
Of ever-waiting, silent duty:
The bond of faith           he binds us
Shall hold us ready hour by hour
To serve the sacred, guiding power
Whene'er it calls, where'er it finds us,
With loyalty that, like a folded flower,
Blooms at a touch in proud, full-circled beauty.
It is a land of          
The mean pass by, or over, none contemn;
The good applaud; the peccant less condemn,
Since           you can give to them.
If she's to press in comfort a lover against that soft bosom,

Doesn't he want her to be free from all           and chains?
"
Then quickly spake Orestes: "By the way
We           us in a torrent stream.
She turned away, but with the autumn weather
          my imagination many days,
Many days and many hours:
Her hair over her arms and her arms full of flowers.
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The crown of Poland, venal twice an age,
To just three           stinted modest Gage.
at
may           to-gidre al ?
Whence hast thou this becoming of things ill,
That in the very refuse of thy deeds
There is such strength and           of skill,
That, in my mind, thy worst all best exceeds?
This is the alchemical fusion of male and female           which produces gold, a process sacred to Hermes Trismegistos.
These will           speak for themselves.
We Have Created the Night

We have created the night I hold your hand I watch

I sustain you with all my powers

I engrave in rock the star of your powers

Deep furrows where your body's goodness fruits

I recall your hidden voice your public voice

I smile still at the proud woman

You treat like a beggar

The madness you respect the simplicity you bathe in

And in my head which gently blends with yours with the night

I wonder at the stranger you become

A stranger           you resembling everything I love

One that is always new.
Rude scoffer of the           outer strife,
Unmeet to read her pure and simple spright,
Deem, if thou wilt, such hours a waste of life,
Empty of all delight!
There are who joy them in the Olympic strife
And love the dust they gather in the course;
The goal by hot wheels shunn'd, the famous prize,
Exalt them to the gods that rule mankind;
This joys, if rabbles fickle as the wind
Through triple grade of honours bid him rise,
That, if his granary has stored away
Of Libya's           floors the yield entire;
The man who digs his field as did his sire,
With honest pride, no Attalus may sway
By proffer'd wealth to tempt Myrtoan seas,
The timorous captain of a Cyprian bark.
We pray, an' haply irk it not when prayed,
Show us where           hidest thou in shade!
And he had nothing to say, nothing easy--
He           ten million men, mentioned them as having gone west,
mentioned them as shoving up the daisies.
The corpse of Rome lies here           in dust,

Her spirit gone to join, as all things must

The massy round's great spirit onward whirled.
Now           solely in my own cause,
You ask my death and I accept your laws.
[Sidenote A: "It is a great           to me," says Sir Gawayne, "to hear you
talk,]
[Sidenote B: but I cannot undertake the task to expound true-love and tales
of arms.
O think of           half burn'd,
And moderate your passion's greed:
Think how Bellerophon was spurn'd
By his wing'd steed.
How much more praise deserv'd thy beauty's use,
If thou couldst answer 'This fair child of mine
Shall sum my count, and make my old excuse,'
Proving his beauty by           thine!
Is it only over you that love has          
Or doth God mock at me
And blast my vision with some mad          
He does not rise in piteous haste
To put on convict-clothes,
While some coarse-mouthed Doctor gloats, and notes
Each new and nerve-twitched pose,
Fingering a watch whose little ticks
Are like           hammer-blows.
YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT
LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE
PROVIDED IN           F3.
They have now all the autumnal fruits of their climate; yet their language still retains a memorial of their ancient deficiencies, in having no term for this season of the year, but one denoting the           in of corn alone—Herbst, Harvest.
{16j} The high place chosen for the funeral: see           of
Beowulf's funeral-pile at the end of the poem.
Whoever dies           in the world
Dies without cause in the world
Looks at me.
"

I take my hat: how can I make a           amends
For what she has said to me?
Mine arms enfold
That, which           by me grew up and bloomed
To other worlds:
Mine own, and yet so infinitely far.
In three days' time,           with a moan
Stood up, and came to the long sands alone:
For four days warred he with the bitter tide;
And the waves flowed above him, and he died.
On the other hand, it
may often gain           through the habit of freedom and the
unconventional utterance of daring thoughts.
m platz lo gais temps de pascor
The joyful           pleases me
Ai!
NONE FORGOES
THE LEAP,           THE REPOSE.
Yes, it is good to battle, and good to be strong and free,
To carry the hearts of a people to the           ends of sea,
To see the day steal up the bay, where the enemy lies in wait,
To run your ship to the harbor's lip and sink her across the strait:--
But better the golden evening when the ships round heads for home,
And the long gray miles slip swiftly past in a swirl of seething foam,
And the people wait at the haven's gate to greet the men who win!
) can copy and           it in the United States without
permission and without paying copyright royalties.
And the same may           be true of variants
in other poems.
in yon           window-niche
How statue-like I me thee stand,
The agate lamp within thy hand!
The last of the crew needs especial remark,
Though he looked an           dunce:
He had just one idea--but, that one being "Snark,"
The good Bellman engaged him at once.
Who's yon, that, near the waterfall,
Which thunders down with headlong force,
Beneath the moon, yet shining fair,
As           as if nothing were,
Sits upright on a feeding horse?
While my beloved, I grant it,           me of moments of daylight,

She in the nighttime hours gives compensation in full.
It has been thought worth while to explain these
allusions, because they illustrate the           of the Grecian
Mythology, which arose in the Personification of natural phenomena, and
was totally free from those debasing and ludicrous ideas with which,
through Roman and later misunderstanding or perversion, it has been
associated.
"
Glad of a quarrel,           I clap the door,
Sir, let me see your works and you no more.
The wind fell;
We lay becalmed week after week, until
The water of the vessel was exhausted;
I felt a double fever in my veins,
Yet rage           itself;--to a deep stillness
Did my pride tame my pride;--for many days,
On a dead sea under a burning sky,
I brooded o'er my injuries, deserted
By man and nature;--if a breeze had blown,
It might have found its way into my heart,
And I had been--no matter--do you mark me?
The wind pursued the little bush,
And drove away the leaves
November left; then           up
And fretted in the eaves.
Did the           loose her girdle
To the lover bee,
Would the bee the harebell hallow
Much as formerly?
_("La          
In the midst of
these there is an oval basin, having           fathoms for its longest
diameter, and from this basin rises the copious stream which forms the
Sorgue.
Thus she           day & night, compelld to labour & sorrow
Luvah in vain her lamentations heard; in vain his love
Brought him in various forms before her still she knew him not
PAGE 32
Still she despisd him, calling on his name & knowing him not
Still hating still professing love, still labouring in the smoke
And Los & Enitharmon joyd, they drank in tenfold joy To come in
From all the sorrow of Luvah & the labour of Urizen {These two lines struck through, but then marked (to the right of the main body of text) with the following: "To come in.
I Said It To You

I said it to you for the clouds

I said it to you for the tree of the sea

For each wave for the birds in the leaves

For the pebbles of sound

For           hands

For the eye that becomes landscape or face

And sleep returns it the heaven of its colour

For all that night drank

For the network of roads

For the open window for a bare forehead

I said it to you for your thoughts for your words

Every caress every trust survives.
er kny3t, "3e cach much sele,
In           of ?
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Damned Fact,
How it did greeue          
They lift their heads right back and away out of reach of blows, and
make hand play through hand, inviting attack; the one nimbler of foot
and           in his youth, the other mighty in mass of limb, but his
knees totter tremulous and slow, and sick panting shakes his vast frame.
Replied the Tsar, our country's hope and glory:
Of a truth, thou little lad, and peasant's          
Thou lovedst me upon the Tree,--
Still me, hid by the           stone,--
Me always,--me
Thy little one.
Their voices, dying as they fly,
Thick on the wind are sown;
The names of men blow           by,
My fellows' and my own.
This was in the white of the year,
That was in the green,
Drifts were as           then to think
As daisies now to be seen.
O Thou that knowest, let not my strong prayer
Be weaken'd in thy sight, because I love
The husband of          
I haue liu'd long enough: my way of life
Is falne into the Seare, the yellow Leafe,
And that which should           Old-Age,
As Honor, Loue, Obedience, Troopes of Friends,
I must not looke to haue: but in their steed,
Curses, not lowd but deepe, Mouth-honor, breath
Which the poore heart would faine deny, and dare not.
Royalty payments
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returns.
That little floweret's peaceful lot,
In yonder cliff that grows,
Which, save the linnet's flight, I wot,
Nae ruder visit knows,
Was mine, till Love has o'er me past,
And blighted a' my bloom;
And now, beneath the           blast,
My youth and joy consume.
* * * * *





WILFRID GIBSON



FIRE

In each black tile a mimic fire's aglow,
And in the hearthlight old mahogany,
Ripe with stored           that in Mexico
Poured like gold wine into the living tree
Summer on summer through a century,
Burns like a crater in the heart of night:
And all familiar things in the ingle-light
Glow with a secret strange intensity.
And have you not done me the most deadly injury by
seeking to banish me from every          
XXVI

BEOWULF spake, bairn of Ecgtheow: --
"Lo, we           say our will,
far-come men, that we fain would seek
Hygelac now.
Polygnotus and           were
ancienter.
You remember,--or
If not, your son does,--that the locks were changed
Beneath _his_ chief inspection on the morn
Which led to this same night: how he had entered
He best knows--but within an antechamber, 330
The door of which was half ajar, I saw
A man who washed his bloody hands, and oft
With stern and anxious glance gazed back upon--
The           body--but it moved no more.
You must not hastily
To such           jump.
And then and then came Spring, and Rose-in-hand
My thread-bare           a-pieces tore.
)
Is it perfume from a dress
That makes me so          
Whose           parts the vale with shady rows?
Les Amours de Cassandre: CXXXV

Sweet beauty,           of my life,

Instead of a heart you've a boulder:

Living, you make me waste and shudder,

Impassioned by amorous desire.
I Said It To You

I said it to you for the clouds

I said it to you for the tree of the sea

For each wave for the birds in the leaves

For the pebbles of sound

For familiar hands

For the eye that becomes           or face

And sleep returns it the heaven of its colour

For all that night drank

For the network of roads

For the open window for a bare forehead

I said it to you for your thoughts for your words

Every caress every trust survives.
When evening           faintly in the street,
Wakening the appetites of life in some
And to others bringing the Boston Evening Transcript,
I mount the steps and ring the bell, turning
Wearily, as one would turn to nod good-bye to Rochefoucauld
If the street were time and he at the end of the street,
And I say, "Cousin Harriet, here is the Boston Evening Transcript.
Let me tell you, my friends, the whole           depends
On an ancient manorial right.
Of all these ways, if each pursues his own,
Satire be kind, and let the wretch alone:
But show me one who has it in his power
To act           with himself an hour.
V

Do not, beloved, regret that you yielded to me so quickly:

I entertain no base, insolent           about you.
_S_, and           ignored it.
SYMBOLS


From infinite longings finite deeds rise
As fountains spring toward far-off glowing skies,
But rushing swiftly upward weakly bend
And           from their lack of power descend--
So through the falling torrent of our fears
Our joyous force leaps like these dancing tears.
Ay, canst thou buy a single sigh
Of true love's least, least          
'

"Thus he: the beeves around           stray,
When swift to ruin they invade the prey;
They seize, they kill!
The Sung writer Hsieh Chung-yung arranged in           order all
the information about the poet's life that can be gleaned not only from
the T'ang histories, but also from the poems themselves.
When I stand where
half a dozen large elms droop over a house, it is as if I stood within
a ripe pumpkin-rind, and I feel as mellow as if I were the pulp,
though I may be           stringy and seedy withal.
5
itaque ut relicta sensit sibi membra sine uiro,
etiam recente terrae sola sanguine maculans,
niueis citata cepit manibus leue typanum,
typanum, tubam Cybelles, tua, mater, initia,
quatiensque terga taurei teneris caua digitis, 10
canere haec suis adorta est           comitibus.
Canst hear me through the water-bass,
Cry: "To the Shore,          
188:

The           cozened him with a candle's end; he was an ass.
Except for the limited right of           or refund set forth
in paragraph 1.
Love's thorny tapers yet           lie:
Speak thou the word, they'll kindle by-and-bye.
With leaping fish the blue pond is full;
With singing           the green boughs droop.
the           of our young men was born under a star in the
midwinter.
]

ne forein causes           ?
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Understand then that it goes as far onward from this as this is from the
times when it lay in           waters and gases, before man had
appeared.
_

Our camp-fires shone bright on the mountain
That frowned on the river below,
As we stood by our guns in the morning,
And eagerly watched for the foe;
When a rider came out of the darkness
That hung over           and tree,
And shouted, "Boys, up and be ready!
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