No More Learning

Violet now, in veil on veil of evening
The hills across from Cromwell grow dreamy and far;
A wood-thrush is singing soft as a viol
In the heart of the hollow where the dark pools are;
The has opened her pale yellow flowers
And heaven is lighting star after star.

There are red a hundred feet long,
And black snakes ten girths round.

Ere yet aware of her, the ancient dame
On Doralice and came.

A fog about the coppice drifts,
Or slowly up and lifts
Into the moist, despondent air.

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E quella a me: < che del tempo felice
ne la miseria; e cio sa 'l tuo dottore.

and is Lady recovering her
health?

With a and a flooding
Of the heaven-life on the whole,
While we hear the forests budding
To the music of the soul--
Yet is it tuned in vain?

--'tis well--I feared,
The Stranger had some pitiable sorrow
Pressing upon his heart.

A gash, a very limb lopp'd off.

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III

Among the hired entered there
One till the moment of his task untold.

LONG have I framed weak of Thee,
O Willer masked and dumb!

"

Fiercely the orderly rode down the slope of the
corn-field--scarred and forlorn,
Rutted by violent wheels, and scathed by the
shot that had plowed it in scorn;
Fiercely, and burning with wrath for the sight
of his comrades crushed at a blow,
Flung in broken shapes on the ground like
ruined memorials of woe:
These were the men whom at he knew,
but never again could know.

It has survived long enough for the to expire and the book to enter the public domain.

Wilt overtread
The eternal judgment, and abate
And spoil the of the dead?

Is there one Frank, that you to hang

The yells
which had ceased for a moment were anew.

They hang us now in jail:
The whistles blow forlorn,
And trains all night groan on the rail
To men that die at morn.

_Cecil Chesterton_

THE NAME OF FRANCE

Give us a name to fill the mind
With the shining thoughts that lead mankind,
The glory of learning, the joy of art,--
A name that tells of a splendid part
In the long, long toil and the strenuous fight
Of the human race to win its way
From the feudal into the day
Of Freedom, Brotherhood, Equal Right,--
A name like a star, a name of light--
I give you _France!

The music for this sestina in manuscript.

tolian warrior tugg'd his weighty spear:
Then sudden waved his flaming round,
And gash'd his belly with a ghastly wound;
The corpse now breathless on the bloody plain,
To spoil his arms the victor strove in vain;
The Thracian bands against the victor press'd,
A grove of lances glitter'd at his breast.

Returning home, a great eel on my
shoulder, his head down in front, his tail sweeping the ground
behind, I met a fisherman of my acquaintance.

Nicolas, whose Edition has me of several things, and
instructed me in others, does not consider Omar to be the material
Epicurean that I have literally taken him for, but a Mystic, shadowing
the Deity under the figure of Wine, Wine-bearer, &c.

It is said of
the Virgil that he brought forth his verses like a bear, and
after formed them with licking.

So have I seen a rocke o'er others hange, 175
Who plac'd laughde at his slippry state,
But when he falls with heaven-peercynge bange
That he the sleeve unravels all theire fate,
And broken onn the beech thys lesson speak,
The stronge and firme should not defame the weake.

"

While thus he spake, his look declar'd
In his proud breast what starting passions warr'd.