You simply cannot find a series of the Cantos on the internet. They are not online: they are published, the books hard to find (yes I have some of them) and there are legal scriveners examining for the text. Perhaps it his fascism: perhaps it is that he’s difficult (not mad): perhaps it is because at times he is good.
He missed this. After Early Modernism there was nothing.
Yet
Ezra Pound, Libretto, Canto 81.
Ere the season died a-cold
Borne upon a zephyr’s shoulder
I rose through the aureate sky
Lawes and Jenkyns guard thy rest
Dolmetsch ever be thy guest,
Has he tempered the viol’s wood
To enforce both the grave and the acute?
Has he curved us the bowl of the lute?
Lawes and Jenkyns guard thy rest
Dolmetsch ever be thy guest
Hast ’ou fashioned so airy a mood
To draw up leaf from the root?
Hast ’ou found a cloud so light
As seemed neither mist nor shade?
Then resolve me, tell me aright
If Waller sang or Dowland played
Your eyen two wol sleye me sodenly
I may the beauté of hem nat susteyne
And for 180 years almost nothing.