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phantasmagoria and other poems-第3部分
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And votes the thing a bore:
Yet; having once begun to try;
Dares not desert his quest;
But; climbing; ever keeps his eye
On one small hut against the sky
Wherein he hopes to rest:
Who climbs till nerve and force are spent;
With many a puff and pant:
Who still; as rises the ascent;
In language grows more violent;
Although in breath more scant:
Who; climbing; gains at length the place
That crowns the upward track。
And; entering with unsteady pace;
Receives a buffet in the face
That lands him on his back:
And feels himself; like one in sleep;
Glide swiftly down again;
A helpless weight; from steep to steep;
Till; with a headlong giddy sweep;
He drops upon the plain …
So I; that had resolved to bring
Conviction to a ghost;
And found it quite a different thing
From any human arguing;
Yet dared not quit my post
But; keeping still the end in view
To which I hoped to come;
I strove to prove the matter true
By putting everything I knew
Into an axiom:
Commencing every single phrase
With 'therefore' or 'because;'
I blindly reeled; a hundred ways;
About the syllogistic maze;
Unconscious where I was。
Quoth he 〃That's regular clap…trap:
Don't bluster any more。
Now DO be cool and take a nap!
Such a ridiculous old chap
Was never seen before!
〃You're like a man I used to meet;
Who got one day so furious
In arguing; the simple heat
Scorched both his slippers off his feet!〃
I said 〃THAT'S VERY CURIOUS!〃
〃Well; it IS curious; I agree;
And sounds perhaps like fibs:
But still it's true as true can be …
As sure as your name's Tibbs;〃 said he。
I said 〃My name's NOT Tibbs。〃
〃NOT Tibbs!〃 he cried … his tone became
A shade or two less hearty …
〃Why; no;〃 said I。 〃My proper name
Is Tibbets … 〃 〃Tibbets?〃 〃Aye; the same。〃
〃Why; then YOU'RE NOT THE PARTY!〃
With that he struck the board a blow
That shivered half the glasses。
〃Why couldn't you have told me so
Three quarters of an hour ago;
You prince of all the asses?
〃To walk four miles through mud and rain;
To spend the night in smoking;
And then to find that it's in vain …
And I've to do it all again …
It's really TOO provoking!
〃Don't talk!〃 he cried; as I began
To mutter some excuse。
〃Who can have patience with a man
That's got no more discretion than
An idiotic goose?
〃To keep me waiting here; instead
Of telling me at once
That this was not the house!〃 he said。
〃There; that'll do … be off to bed!
Don't gape like that; you dunce!〃
〃It's very fine to throw the blame
On ME in such a fashion!
Why didn't you enquire my name
The very minute that you came?〃
I answered in a passion。
〃Of course it worries you a bit
To come so far on foot …
But how was I to blame for it?〃
〃Well; well!〃 said he。 〃I must admit
That isn't badly put。
〃And certainly you've given me
The best of wine and victual …
Excuse my violence;〃 said he;
〃But accidents like this; you see;
They put one out a little。
〃'Twas MY fault after all; I find …
Shake hands; old Turnip…top!〃
The name was hardly to my mind;
But; as no doubt he meant it kind;
I let the matter drop。
〃Good…night; old Turnip…top; good…night!
When I am gone; perhaps
They'll send you some inferior Sprite;
Who'll keep you in a constant fright
And spoil your soundest naps。
〃Tell him you'll stand no sort of trick;
Then; if he leers and chuckles;
You just be handy with a stick
(Mind that it's pretty hard and thick)
And rap him on the knuckles!
〃Then carelessly remark 'Old coon!
Perhaps you're not aware
That; if you don't behave; you'll soon
Be chuckling to another tune …
And so you'd best take care!'
〃That's the right way to cure a Sprite
Of such like goings…on …
But gracious me! It's getting light!
Good…night; old Turnip…top; good…night!〃
A nod; and he was gone。
CANTO VII … Sad Souvenaunce
〃WHAT'S this?〃 I pondered。 〃Have I slept?
Or can I have been drinking?〃
But soon a gentler feeling crept
Upon me; and I sat and wept
An hour or so; like winking。
〃No need for Bones to hurry so!〃
I sobbed。 〃In fact; I doubt
If it was worth his while to go …
And who is Tibbs; I'd like to know;
To make such work about?
〃If Tibbs is anything like me;
It's POSSIBLE;〃 I said;
〃He won't be over…pleased to be
Dropped in upon at half…past three;
After he's snug in bed。
〃And if Bones plagues him anyhow …
Squeaking and all the rest of it;
As he was doing here just now …
I prophesy there'll be a row;
And Tibbs will have the best of it!〃
Then; as my tears could never bring
The friendly Phantom back;
It seemed to me the proper thing
To mix another glass; and sing
The following Coronach。
'AND ART THOU GONE; BELOVED GHOST?
BEST OF FAMILIARS!
NAY THEN; FAREWELL; MY DUCKLING ROAST;
FAREWELL; FAREWELL; MY TEA AND TOAST;
MY MEERSCHAUM AND CIGARS!
THE HUES OF LIFE ARE DULL AND GRAY;
THE SWEETS OF LIFE INSIPID;
WHEN thou; MY CHARMER; ART AWAY …
OLD BRICK; OR RATHER; LET ME SAY;
OLD PARALLELEPIPED!'
Instead of singing Verse the Third;
I ceased … abruptly; rather:
But; after such a splendid word
I felt that it would be absurd
To try it any farther。
So with a yawn I went my way
To seek the welcome downy;
And slept; and dreamed till break of day
Of Poltergeist and Fetch and Fay
And Leprechaun and Brownie!
For year I've not been visited
By any kind of Sprite;
Yet still they echo in my head;
Those parting words; so kindly said;
〃Old Turnip…top; good…night!〃
ECHOES
LADY Clara Vere de Vere
Was eight years old; she said:
Every ringlet; lightly shaken; ran itself in golden thread。
She took her little porringer:
Of me she shall not win renown:
For the baseness of its nature shall have strength to drag her
down。
〃Sisters and brothers; little Maid?
There stands the Inspector at thy door:
Like a dog; he hunts for boys who know not two and two are four。〃
〃Kind words are more than coronets;〃
She said; and wondering looked at me:
〃It is the dead unhappy night; and I must hurry home to tea。〃
A SEA DIRGE
THERE are certain things … as; a spider; a ghost;
The income…tax; gout; an umbrella for three …
That I hate; but the thing that I hate the most
Is a thing they call the Sea。
Pour some salt water over the floor …
Ugly I'm sure you'll allow it to be:
Suppose it extended a mile or more;
THAT'S very like the Sea。
Beat a dog till it howls outright …
Cruel; but all very well for a spree:
Suppose that he did so day and night;
THAT would be like the Sea。
I had a vision of nursery…maids;
Tens of thousands passed by me …
All leading children with wooden spades;
And this was by the Sea。
Who invented those spades of wood?
Who was it cut them out of the tree?
None; I think; but an idiot could …
Or one that loved the Sea。
It is pleasant and dreamy; no doubt; to float
With 'thoughts as boundless; and souls as free':
But; suppose you are very unwell in the boat;
How do you like the Sea?
There is an insect that people avoid
(Whence is derived the verb 'to flee')。
Where have you been by it most annoyed?
In lodgings by the Sea。
If you like your coffee with sand for dregs;
A decided hint of salt in your tea;
And a fishy taste in the very eggs …
By all means choose the Sea。
And if; with these dainties to drink and eat;
You prefer not a vestige of grass or tree;
And a chronic state of wet in your feet;
Then … I recommend the Sea。
For I have friends who dwell by the coast …
Pleasant friends they are to me!
It is when I am with them I wonder most
That anyone likes the Sea。
They take me a walk: though tired and stiff;
To climb the heights I madly agree;
And; after a tumble or so from the cliff;
They kindly suggest the Sea。
I try the rocks; and I think it cool
That they laugh with such an excess of glee;
As I heavily slip into every pool
That skirts the cold cold Sea。
Ye Carpette Knyghte
I have a horse … a ryghte good horse …
Ne doe Y envye those
Who scoure ye playne yn headye course
Tyll soddayne on theyre nose
They lyghte wyth unexpected force
Yt ys … a horse of clothes。
I have a saddel … 〃Say'st thou soe?
Wyth styrruppes; Knyghte; to boote?〃
I sayde not that … I answere 〃Noe〃 …
Yt lacketh such; I woote:
Yt ys a mutton…saddel; loe!
Parte of ye fleecye brute。
I have a bytte … a ryghte good bytte …
As shall bee seene yn tyme。
Ye jawe of horse yt wyll not fytte;
Yts use ys more sublyme。
Fayre Syr; how deemest thou of yt?
Yt ys … thys bytte of rhyme。
HIAWATHA'S PHOTOGRAPHING
'In an age of imitation; I can claim no special merit for this
slight attempt at doing what is known to be so easy。 Any fairly
practised writer; with the slightest ear for rhythm; could compose;
for hours together; in the easy running metre of 'The Song of
Hiawatha。' Having; then; distinctly stated that I challenge no
attention in the following little poem to its merely verbal jingle;
I must beg the candid reader to confine his criticism to its
treatment of the subject。'
FROM his shoulder Hiawatha
Took the camera of rosewood;
Made of sliding; folding rosewood;
Neatly put it all together。
In its case it lay compactly;
Folded into nearly nothing;
But he opened out the hinges;
Pushed and pulled the joints and hinges;
Till it looked all squares and oblongs;
Like a complicated figure
In the Second Book of Euclid。
This he perched upon a tripod …
Crouched beneath its dusky cover …
Stretched his hand; enforcing silence …
Said; 〃Be motionless; I beg you!〃
Mystic; awful was the process。
All the family in order
Sat before him for their pictures:
Each in turn; as he was taken;
Volunteered his own suggestions;
His ingenious suggestions。
First the Governor; the Father:
He suggested velvet curtains
Looped about a massy pillar;
And the corner of a table;
Of a rosewood dining…table。
He would hold a scroll
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