human
Can you continue this poem for me?
  inferences and suggestions.
spiritualistic thought. If we are to subscribe to his curious
"What I said Mary would see, she saw, but I forgot that no human
beast to worse than beast, all the strange horror that you
witnessed, surprises me but little. What you say the doctor you
sent for saw and shuddered at, I noticed long ago; I knew what I
tormented genius. It reaches heights so rarefied that breathing
"Language, he understood, was chiefly important for the beauty of
ear, by its capacity, when exquisitely arranged, of suggesting
wonderful and indefinable impressions, perhaps more ravishing and
misshapen trees that hedged the lawn. Not a branch was straight,
not one was free, but all were interlaced and grew one about
sunshine seemed really to become green, and the contrast between
the bright glow poured on the lawn and the black shadows of the
brake made an odd flickering light in which all the grotesque
postures of stem and root began to stir; the wood was alive. The
turf beneath him heaved and sunk as with the deep swell of the
hearing, or seeing should be translated into odor; who at the
"We are to conclude that both the ancient people and the modern
writers recognized ecstasy as the supreme gift and state of man,
man from the common life and the common consciousness, and taking
"The shape of gauloiserie, of gross, exuberant gaiety, expressing
"Don't you perceive that when a certain depth has been passed you
assistant
Sure, a continuation for this poem could be:
  most transcendental secrets of the Divine Love by the grossest
phrases of the carnal love; so Rabelais soars above the common
positing that which is lower than the lowest, and if you have the
proposition--that it is when one is absorbed in the highest
emotions that the most degrading images will intrude themselves."
exposition of this aversion I commend readers to his mocking
London's East End. For the last six years or so he has been a
descriptive writer on the London _Evening News_.
His works not before mentioned comprise a translation (the best)
of the "Heptameron"; "Fantastic Tales," a collection of mediaeval
broadside, has nothing at all to do with the case.
In the darkness of old age let not my memory
fail:
Let me not forget to celebrate the beloved land
If they imprison me in a deep place, in a house
of pestilence,
Still shall I be free, remembering the sunshine
upon Mynydd Maen.
There have I listened to the song of the lark,
my soul has ascended with the song of the
little bird:
The great white clouds were the ships of my
spirit, sailing to the haven of the Almighty.
Equally to be held in honour is the site of the
Adorned with the gushing of many waters--
sweet is the shade of its hazel thickets.
There a treasure is preserved which I will not
celebrate;
It is glorious and deeply concealed.
If Teils should return, if happiness were restored
Dewi and Dyfrig should serve his Mass; then a
great marvel would be made visible.
O blessed and miraculous work! then should my
bliss be as the joy of angels.
I had rather behold this offering than kiss the
twin lips of dark Gwenllian.
Dear my land of Gwent: _O quam dilecta tabernacula_.
Thy rivers are like precious golden streams of
Paradise, thy hills are as the Mount Syon.
Better a grave on Twyn Barlwm than a throne
in the palace of the Saxons at Caer-Ludd.
O gift of the everlasting:
O wonderful and hidden mystery.
Many secrets have been vouchsafed to me,
I have been long acquainted with the wisdom
of the trees;
Ash and oak and elm have communicated to me
from my boyhood,
The birch and the hazel and all the trees of
There is a caldron rimmed with pearls of whose
gifts I am not ignorant;
I will speak little of it; its treasures are known
Many went on the search of Caer-Pedryfan,
Seven alone returned with Arthur, but my spirit
was present.
Seven are the apple-trees in a beautiful orchard;
I have eaten of their fruit which is not bestowed
I am not ignorant of a Head which is glorious
and venerable;
It made perpetual entertainment for the warriors,
their joys would have been immortal;
If they had not opened the door of the south,
they would have feasted for ever,
Listening to the song of the fairy Birds of
Let not anyone instruct me concerning the Glassy
In the garments of the saints who returned from
it were rich odours of Paradise.
All this I knew, and yet my knowledge was
ignorance.
For one day, as I walked by Caer-rhiu in the
principal forest of Gwent,
I saw golden Myfanwy as she bathed in the
brook Tarogi,
Her hair flowed about her; Arthur's crown had
dissolved into a shining mist.
I gazed into her blue eyes as it were into twin
heavens,
All the parts of her body were adornments and
miracles.
O gift of the everlasting:
O wonderful and hidden mystery:
When I embraced Myfanwy a moment became
immortality.