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grass of parnassus-第2部分
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You; like that fairy people set
Of old in their enchanted sea
Far off from men; might well forget
An elder nation's toil and fret;
Might heed not aught but game and glee。
But what your fathers were you are
In lands the fathers never knew;
'Neath skies of alien sign and star
You rally to the English war;
Your hearts are English; kind and true。
And now; when first on England falls
The shadow of a darkening fate;
You hear the Mother ere she calls;
You leave your ocean…girdled walls;
And face her foemen in the gate。
COLONEL BURNABY。
'Greek text which cannot be reproduced'
Thou that on every field of earth and sky
Didst hunt for Death; who seemed to flee and fear;
How great and greatly fallen dost thou lie
Slain in the Desert by some wandering spear:
'Not here; alas!' may England say; 'not here
Nor in this quarrel was it meet to die;
But in that dreadful battle drawing nigh
To thunder through the Afghan passes sheer:
Like Aias by the ships shouldst thou have stood;
And in some glen have stayed the stream of flight;
The bulwark of thy people and their shield;
When Indus or when Helmund ran with blood;
Till back into the Northland and the Night
The smitten Eagles scattered from the field。'
MELVILLE AND COGHILL。
(The place of the little hand。)
Dead; with their eyes to the foe;
Dead; with the foe at their feet;
Under the sky laid low
Truly their slumber is sweet;
Though the wind from the Camp of the Slain Men blow;
And the rain on the wilderness beat。
Dead; for they chose to die
When that wild race was run;
Dead; for they would not fly;
Deeming their work undone;
Nor cared to look on the face of the sky;
Nor loved the light of the sun。
Honour we give them and tears;
And the flag they died to save;
Rent from the rain of the spears;
Wet from the war and the wave;
Shall waft men's thoughts through the dust of the years;
Back to their lonely grave!
RHODOCLEIA
TO RHODOCLEIA … ON HER MELANCHOLY SINGING。
(Rhodocleia was beloved by Rufinus; one of the late poets of the
Greek Anthology。)
Still; Rhodocleia; brooding on the dead;
Still singing of the meads of asphodel;
Lands desolate of delight?
Say; hast thou dreamed of; or remembered;
The shores where shadows dwell;
Nor know the sun; nor see the stars of night?
There; 'midst thy music; doth thy spirit gaze
As a girl pines for home;
Looking along the way that she hath come;
Sick to return; and counts the weary days!
So wouldst thou flee
Back to the multitude whose days are done;
Wouldst taste the fruit that lured Persephone;
The sacrament of death; and die; and be
No more in the wind and sun!
Thou hast not dreamed it; but remembered
I know thou hast been there;
Hast seen the stately dwellings of the dead
Rise in the twilight air;
And crossed the shadowy bridge the spirits tread;
And climbed the golden stair!
Nay; by thy cloudy hair
And lips that were so fair;
Sad lips now mindful of some ancient smart;
And melancholy eyes; the haunt of Care;
I know thee who thou art!
That Rhodocleia; Glory of the Rose;
Of Hellas; ere her close;
That Rhodocleia who; when all was done
The golden time of Greece; and fallen her sun;
Swayed her last poet's heart。
With roses did he woo thee; and with song;
With thine own rose; and with the lily sweet;
The dark…eyed violet;
Garlands of wind…flowers wet;
And fragrant love…lamps that the whole night long
Burned till the dawn was burning in the skies;
Praising THY GOLDEN EYES;
AND FEET MORE SILVERY THAN THETIS' FEET!
But thou didst die and flit
Among the tribes outworn;
The unavailing myriads of the past:
Oft he beheld thy face in dreams of morn;
And; waking; wept for it;
Till his own time came at last;
And then he sought thee in the dusky land!
Wide are the populous places of the dead
Where souls on earth once wed
May never meet; nor each take other's hand;
Each far from the other fled!
So all in vain he sought for thee; but thou
Didst never taste of the Lethaean stream;
Nor that forgetful fruit;
The mystic pom'granate;
But from the Mighty Warden fledst; and now;
The fugitive of Fate;
Thou farest in our life as in a dream;
Still wandering with thy lute;
Like that sweet paynim lady of old song;
Who sang and wandered long;
For love of her Aucassin; seeking him!
So with thy minstrelsy
Thou roamest; dreaming of the country dim;
Below the veiled sky!
There doth thy lover dwell;
Singing; and seeking still to find thy face
In that forgetful place:
Thou shalt not meet him here;
Not till thy singing clear
Through all the murmur of the streams of hell
Wins to the Maiden's ear!
May she; perchance; have pity on thee and call
Thine eager spirit to sit beside her feet;
Passing throughout the long unechoing hall
Up to the shadowy throne;
Where the lost lovers of the ages meet;
Till then thou art alone!
AVE。
'Our Faith and Troth
All time and space controules
Above the highest sphere we meet
Unseen; unknowne; and greet as Angels greet'
Col; Richard Lovelace。 1649
CLEVEDON CHURCH。
'In memoriam H。 B。'
Westward I watch the low green hills of Wales;
The low sky silver grey;
The turbid Channel with the wandering sails
Moans through the winter day。
There is no colour but one ashen light
On tower and lonely tree;
The little church upon the windy height
Is grey as sky or sea。
But there hath he that woke the sleepless Love
Slept through these fifty years;
There is the grave that has been wept above
With more than mortal tears。
And far below I hear the Channel sweep
And all his waves complain;
As Hallam's dirge through all the years must keep
Its monotone of pain。
* * * * *
Grey sky; brown waters; as a bird that flies;
My heart flits forth from these
Back to the winter rose of northern skies;
Back to the northern seas。
And lo; the long waves of the ocean beat
Below the minster grey;
Caverns and chapels worn of saintly feet;
And knees of them that pray。
And I remember me how twain were one
Beside that ocean dim;
I count the years passed over since the sun
That lights me looked on him;
And dreaming of the voice that; save in sleep;
Shall greet me not again;
Far; far below I hear the Channel sweep
And all his waves complain。
TWILIGHT ON TWEED。
Three crests against the saffron sky;
Beyond the purple plain;
The kind remembered melody
Of Tweed once more again。
Wan water from the border hills;
Dear voice from the old years;
Thy distant music lulls and stills;
And moves to quiet tears。
Like a loved ghost thy fabled flood
Fleets through the dusky land;
Where Scott; come home to die; has stood;
My feet returning stand。
A mist of memory broods and floats;
The Border waters flow;
The air is full of ballad notes;
Borne out of long ago。
Old songs that sung themselves to me;
Sweet through a boy's day dream;
While trout below the blossom'd tree
Plashed in the golden steam。
* * * * *
Twilight; and Tweed; and Eildon Hill;
Fair and too fair you be;
You tell me that the voice is still
That should have welcomed me。
1870。
METEMPSYCHOSIS。
I shall not see thee; nay; but I shall know
Perchance; the grey eyes in another's eyes;
Shall guess thy curls in gracious locks that flow
On purest brows; yea; and the swift surmise
Shall follow and track; and find thee in disguise
Of all sad things; and fair; where sunsets glow;
When through the scent of heather; faint and low;
The weak wind whispers to the day that dies。
From all sweet art; and out of all old rhyme;
Thine eyes and lips are light and song to me;
The shadows of the beauty of all time;
In song or story are but shapes of thee;
Alas; the shadowy shapes! ah; sweet my dear;
Shall life or death bring all thy being near?
LOST IN HADES。
I dreamed that somewhere in the shadowy place;
Grief of farewell unspoken was forgot
In welcome; and regret remembered not;
And hopeless prayer accomplished turned to praise
On lips that had been songless many days;
Hope had no more to hope for; and desire
And dread were overpast; in white attire
New born we walked among the new world's ways。
Then from the press of shades a spirit threw
Towards me such apples as these gardens bear;
And turning; I was 'ware of her; and knew
And followed her fleet voice and flying hair; …
Followed; and found her not; and seeking you
I found you never; dearest; anywhere。
A STAR IN THE NIGHT。
The perfect piteous beauty of thy face
Is like a star the dawning drives away;
Mine eyes may never see in the bright day
Thy pallid halo; thy supernal grace;
But in the night from forth the silent place
Thou comest; dim in dreams; as doth a stray
Star of the starry flock that in the grey
Is seen; and lost; and seen a moment's space。
And as the earth at night turns to a star;
Loved long ago; and dearer than the sun;
So in the spiritual place afar;
At night our souls are mingled and made one;
And wait till one night fall; and one dawn rise;
That brings no noon too splendid for your eyes。
A SUNSET ON YARROW。
The wind and the day had lived together;
They died together; and far away
Spoke farewell in the sultry weather;
Out of the sunset; over the heather;
The dying wind and the dying day。
Far in the south; the summer levin
Flushed; a flame in the grey soft air:
We seemed to look on the hills of heaven;
You saw within; but to me 'twas given
To see your face; as an angel's; there。
Never a
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