the complete poetical works-第20部分
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When the wrangling bells had ended;
Slowly struck the clock eleven;
And; from out the silent heaven;
Silence on the town descended。
Silence; silence everywhere;
On the earth and in the air;
Save that footsteps here and there
Of some burgher home returning;
By the street lamps faintly burning;
For a moment woke the echoes
Of the ancient town of Bruges。
But amid my broken slumbers
Still I heard those magic numbers;
As they loud proclaimed the flight
And stolen marches of the night;
Till their chimes in sweet collision
Mingled with each wandering vision;
Mingled with the fortune…telling
Gypsy…bands of dreams and fancies;
Which amid the waste expanses
Of the silent land of trances
Have their solitary dwelling;
All else seemed asleep in Bruges;
In the quaint old Flemish city。
And I thought how like these chimes
Are the poet's airy rhymes;
All his rhymes and roundelays;
His conceits; and songs; and ditties;
From the belfry of his brain;
Scattered downward; though in vain;
On the roofs and stones of cities!
For by night the drowsy ear
Under its curtains cannot hear;
And by day men go their ways;
Hearing the music as they pass;
But deeming it no more; alas!
Than the hollow sound of brass。
Yet perchance a sleepless wight;
Lodging at some humble inn
In the narrow lanes of life;
When the dusk and hush of night
Shut out the incessant din
Of daylight and its toil and strife;
May listen with a calm delight
To the poet's melodies;
Till he hears; or dreams he hears;
Intermingled with the song;
Thoughts that he has cherished long;
Hears amid the chime and singing
The bells of his own village ringing;
And wakes; and finds his slumberous eyes
Wet with most delicious tears。
Thus dreamed I; as by night I lay
In Bruges; at the Fleur…de…Ble;
Listening with a wild delight
To the chimes that; through the night
Bang their changes from the Belfry
Of that quaint old Flemish city。
THE BELFRY OF BRUGES
In the market…place of Bruges stands the belfry old and brown;
Thrice consumed and thrice rebuilded; still it watches o'er the
town。
As the summer morn was breaking; on that lofty tower I stood;
And the world threw off the darkness; like the weeds of
widowhood。
Thick with towns and hamlets studded; and with streams and vapors
gray;
Like a shield embossed with silver; round and vast the landscape
lay。
At my feet the city slumbered。 From its chimneys; here and
there;
Wreaths of snow…white smoke; ascending; vanished; ghost…like;
into air。
Not a sound rose from the city at that early morning hour;
But I heard a heart of iron beating in the ancient tower。
From their nests beneath the rafters sang the swallows wild and
high;
And the world; beneath me sleeping; seemed more distant than the
sky。
Then most musical and solemn; bringing back the olden times;
With their strange; unearthly changes rang the melancholy chimes;
Like the psalms from some old cloister; when the nuns sing in the
choir;
And the great bell tolled among them; like the chanting of a
friar。
Visions of the days departed; shadowy phantoms filled my brain;
They who live in history only seemed to walk the earth again;
All the Foresters of Flanders;mighty Baldwin Bras de Fer;
Lyderick du Bucq and Cressy Philip; Guy de Dampierre。
I beheld the pageants splendid that adorned those days of old;
Stately dames; like queens attended; knights who bore the Fleece
of Gold
Lombard and Venetian merchants with deep…laden argosies;
Ministers from twenty nations; more than royal pomp and ease。
I beheld proud Maximilian; kneeling humbly on the ground;
I beheld the gentle Mary; hunting with her hawk and hound;
And her lighted bridal…chamber; where a duke slept with the
queen;
And the armed guard around them; and the sword unsheathed
between。
I beheld the Flemish weavers; with Namur and Juliers bold;
Marching homeward from the bloody battle of the Spurs of Gold;
Saw the light at Minnewater; saw the White Hoods moving west;
Saw great Artevelde victorious scale the Golden Dragon's nest。
And again the whiskered Spaniard all the land with terror smote;
And again the wild alarum sounded from the tocsin's throat;
Till the bell of Ghent responded o'er lagoon and dike of sand;
〃I am Roland! I am Roland! there is victory in the land!〃
Then the sound of drums aroused me。 The awakened city's roar
Chased the phantoms I had summoned back into their graves once
more。
Hours had passed away like minutes; and; before I was aware;
Lo! the shadow of the belfry crossed the sun…illumined square。
A GLEAM OF SUNSHINE
This is the place。 Stand still; my steed;
Let me review the scene;
And summon from the shadowy Past
The forms that once have been。
The Past and Present here unite
Beneath Time's flowing tide;
Like footprints hidden by a brook;
But seen on either side。
Here runs the highway to the town;
There the green lane descends;
Through which I walked to church with thee;
O gentlest of my friends!
The shadow of the linden…trees
Lay moving on the grass;
Between them and the moving boughs;
A shadow; thou didst pass。
Thy dress was like the lilies;
And thy heart as pure as they:
One of God's holy messengers
Did walk with me that day。
I saw the branches of the trees
Bend down thy touch to meet;
The clover…blossoms in the grass
Rise up to kiss thy feet;
〃Sleep; sleep to…day; tormenting cares;
Of earth and folly born!〃
Solemnly sang the village choir
On that sweet Sabbath morn。
Through the closed blinds the golden sun
Poured in a dusty beam;
Like the celestial ladder seen
By Jacob in his dream。
And ever and anon; the wind;
Sweet…scented with the hay;
Turned o'er the hymn…book's fluttering leaves
That on the window lay。
Long was the good man's sermon;
Yet it seemed not so to me;
For he spake of Ruth the beautiful;
And still I thought of thee。
Long was the prayer he uttered;
Yet it seemed not so to me;
For in my heart I prayed with him;
And still I thought of thee。
But now; alas! the place seems changed;
Thou art no longer here:
Part of the sunshine of the scene
With thee did disappear。
Though thoughts; deep…rooted in my heart;
Like pine…trees dark and high;
Subdue the light of noon; and breathe
A low and ceaseless sigh;
This memory brightens o'er the past;
As when the sun; concealed
Behind some cloud that near us hangs
Shines on a distant field。
THE ARSENAL AT SPRINGFIELD
This is the Arsenal。 From floor to ceiling;
Like a huge organ; rise the burnished arms;
But front their silent pipes no anthem pealing
Startles the villages with strange alarms。
Ah! what a sound will rise; how wild and dreary;
When the death…angel touches those swift keys
What loud lament and dismal Miserere
Will mingle with their awful symphonies
I hear even now the infinite fierce chorus;
The cries of agony; the endless groan;
Which; through the ages that have gone before us;
In long reverberations reach our own。
On helm and harness rings the Saxon hammer;
Through Cimbric forest roars the Norseman's song;
And loud; amid the universal clamor;
O'er distant deserts sounds the Tartar gong。
I hear the Florentine; who from his palace
Wheels out his battle…bell with dreadful din;
And Aztec priests upon their teocallis
Beat the wild war…drums made of serpent's skin;
The tumult of each sacked and burning village;
The shout that every prayer for mercy drowns;
The soldiers' revels in the midst of pillage;
The wail of famine in beleaguered towns;
The bursting shell; the gateway wrenched asunder;
The rattling musketry; the clashing blade;
And ever and anon; in tones of thunder;
The diapason of the cannonade。
Is it; O man; with such discordant noises;
With such accursed instruments as these;
Thou drownest Nature's sweet and kindly voices;
And jarrest the celestial harmonies?
Were half the power; that fills the world with terror;
Were half the wealth; bestowed on camps and courts;
Given to redeem the human mind from error;
There were no need of arsenals or forts:
The warrior's name would be a name abhorred!
And every nation; that should lift again
Its hand against a brother; on its forehead
Would wear forevermore the curse of Cain!
Down the dark future; through long generations;
The echoing sounds grow fainter and then cease;
And like a bell; with solemn; sweet vibrations;
I hear once more the voice of Christ say; 〃Peace!〃
Peace! and no longer from its brazen portals
The blast of War's great organ shakes the skies!
But beautiful as songs of the immortals;
The holy melodies of love arise。
NUREMBERG
In the valley of the Pegnitz; where across broad meadow…lands
Rise the blue Franconian mountains; Nuremberg; the ancient;
stands。
Quaint old town of toil and traffic; quaint old town of art and
song;
Memories haunt thy pointed gables; like the rooks that round them
throng:
Memories of the Middle Ages; when the emperors; rough and bold;
Had their dwelling in thy castle; time…defying; centuries old;
And thy brave and thrifty burghers boasted; in their uncouth
rhyme;
That their great imperial city stretched its hand through every
clime。
In the court…yard of the castle; bound with many an iron hand;
Stands the mighty linden planted by Queen Cunigunde's hand;
On the square the oriel window; where in old heroic days
Sat the poet Melchior singing Kaiser Maximilian's praise。
Everywhere I see around me rise the wondrous world of Art:
Fountains wrought