the complete poetical works-第7部分
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It sounds to him like her mother's voice;
Singing in Paradise!
He needs must think of her once more;
How in the grave she lies;
And with his haul; rough hand he wipes
A tear out of his eyes。
Toiling;rejoicing;sorrowing;
Onward through life he goes;
Each morning sees some task begin;
Each evening sees it close
Something attempted; something done;
Has earned a night's repose。
Thanks; thanks to thee; my worthy friend;
For the lesson thou hast taught!
Thus at the flaming forge of life
Our fortunes must be wrought;
Thus on its sounding anvil shaped
Each burning deed and thought。
ENDYMION
The rising moon has hid the stars;
Her level rays; like golden bars;
Lie on the landscape green;
With shadows brown between。
And silver white the river gleams;
As if Diana; in her dreams;
Had dropt her silver bow
Upon the meadows low。
On such a tranquil night as this;
She woke Endymion with a kiss;
When; sleeping in the grove;
He dreamed not of her love。
Like Dian's kiss; unasked; unsought;
Love gives itself; but is not bought;
Nor voice; nor sound betrays
Its deep; impassioned gaze。
It comes;the beautiful; the free;
The crown of all humanity;
In silence and alone
To seek the elected one。
It lifts the boughs; whose shadows deep
Are Life's oblivion; the soul's sleep;
And kisses the closed eyes
Of him; who slumbering lies。
O weary hearts! O slumbering eyes!
O drooping souls; whose destinies
Are fraught with fear and pain;
Ye shall be loved again!
No one is so accursed by fate;
No one so utterly desolate;
But some heart; though unknown;
Responds unto his own。
Responds;as if with unseen wings;
An angel touched its quivering strings;
And whispers; in its song;
〃'Where hast thou stayed so long?〃
IT IS NOT ALWAYS MAY
No hay pajaros en los nidos de antano。
Spanish Proverb
The sun is bright;the air is clear;
The darting swallows soar and sing。
And from the stately elms I hear
The bluebird prophesying Spring。
So blue you winding river flows;
It seems an outlet from the sky;
Where waiting till the west…wind blows;
The freighted clouds at anchor lie。
All things are new;the buds; the leaves;
That gild the elm…tree's nodding crest;
And even the nest beneath the eaves;
There are no birds in last year's nest!
All things rejoice in youth and love;
The fulness of their first delight!
And learn from the soft heavens above
The melting tenderness of night。
Maiden; that read'st this simple rhyme;
Enjoy thy youth; it will not stay;
Enjoy the fragrance of thy prime;
For oh; it is not always May!
Enjoy the Spring of Love and Youth;
To some good angel leave the rest;
For Time will teach thee soon the truth;
There are no birds in last year's nest!
THE RAINY DAY
The day is cold; and dark; and dreary
It rains; and the wind is never weary;
The vine still clings to the mouldering wall;
But at every gust the dead leaves fall;
And the day is dark and dreary。
My life is cold; and dark; and dreary;
It rains; and the wind is never weary;
My thoughts still cling to the mouldering Past;
But the hopes of youth fall thick in the blast;
And the days are dark and dreary。
Be still; sad heart! and cease repining;
Behind the clouds is the sun still shining;
Thy fate is the common fate of all;
Into each life some rain must fall;
Some days must be dark and dreary。
GOD'S…ACRE。
I like that ancient Saxon phrase; which calls
The burial…ground God's…Acre! It is just;
It consecrates each grave within its walls;
And breathes a benison o'er the sleeping dust。
God's…Acre! Yes; that blessed name imparts
Comfort to those; who in the grave have sown
The seed that they had garnered in their hearts;
Their bread of life; alas! no more their own。
Into its furrows shall we all be cast;
In the sure faith; that we shall rise again
At the great harvest; when the archangel's blast
Shall winnow; like a fan; the chaff and grain。
Then shall the good stand in immortal bloom;
In the fair gardens of that second birth;
And each bright blossom mingle its perfume
With that of flowers; which never bloomed on earth。
With thy rude ploughahare; Death; turn up the sod;
And spread the furrow for the seed we sow;
This is the field and Acre of our God;
This is the place where human harvests grow!
TO THE RIVER CHARLES。
River! that in silence windest
Through the meadows; bright and free;
Till at length thy rest thou findest
In the bosom of the sea!
Four long years of mingled feeling;
Half in rest; and half in strife;
I have seen thy waters stealing
Onward; like the stream of life。
Thou hast taught me; Silent River!
Many a lesson; deep and long;
Thou hast been a generous giver;
I can give thee but a song。
Oft in sadness and in illness;
I have watched thy current glide;
Till the beauty of its stillness
Overflowed me; like a tide。
And in better hours and brighter;
When I saw thy waters gleam;
I have felt my heart beat lighter;
And leap onward with thy stream。
Not for this alone I love thee;
Nor because thy waves of blue
From celestial seas above thee
Take their own celestial hue。
Where yon shadowy woodlands hide thee;
And thy waters disappear;
Friends I love have dwelt beside thee;
And have made thy margin dear。
More than this;thy name reminds me
Of three friends; all true and tried;
And that name; like magic; binds me
Closer; closer to thy side。
Friends my soul with joy remembers!
How like quivering flames they start;
When I fan the living embers
On the hearth…stone of my heart!
'T is for this; thou Silent River!
That my spirit leans to thee;
Thou hast been a generous giver;
Take this idle song from me。
BLIND BARTIMEUS
Blind Bartimeus at the gates
Of Jericho in darkness waits;
He hears the crowd;he hears a breath
Say; 〃It is Christ of Nazareth!〃
And calls; in tones of agony;
The thronging multitudes increase;
Blind Bartimeus; hold thy peace!
But still; above the noisy crowd;
The beggar's cry is shrill and loud;
Until they say; 〃He calleth thee!〃
Then saith the Christ; as silent stands
The crowd; 〃What wilt thou at my hands?〃
And he replies; 〃O give me light!
Rabbi; restore the blind man's sight。
And Jesus answers; ''
!
Ye that have eyes; yet cannot see;
In darkness and in misery;
Recall those mighty Voices Three;
!
!
!
THE GOBLET OF LIFE
Filled is Life's goblet to the brim;
And though my eyes with tears are dim;
I see its sparkling bubbles swim;
And chant a melancholy hymn
With solemn voice and slow。
No purple flowers;no garlands green;
Conceal the goblet's shade or sheen;
Nor maddening draughts of Hippocrene;
Like gleams of sunshine; flash between
Thick leaves of mistletoe。
This goblet; wrought with curious art;
Is filled with waters; that upstart;
When the deep fountains of the heart;
By strong convulsions rent apart;
Are running all to waste。
And as it mantling passes round;
With fennel is it wreathed and crowned;
Whose seed and foliage sun…imbrowned
Are in its waters steeped and drowned;
And give a bitter taste。
Above the lowly plants it towers;
The fennel; with its yellow flowers;
And in an earlier age than ours
Was gifted with the wondrous powers;
Lost vision to restore。
It gave new strength; and fearless mood;
And gladiators; fierce and rude;
Mingled it in their daily food;
And he who battled and subdued;
A wreath of fennel wore。
Then in Life's goblet freely press;
The leaves that give it bitterness;
Nor prize the colored waters less;
For in thy darkness and distress
New light and strength they give!
And he who has not learned to know
How false its sparkling buhbles show;
How bitter are the drops of woe;
With which its brim may overflow;
He has not learned to live。
The prayer of Ajax was for light;
Through all that dark and desperate fight
The blackness of that noonday night
He asked but the return of sight;
To see his foeman's face。
Let our unceasing; earnest prayer
Be; too; for light;for strength to bear
Our portion of the weight of care;
That crushes into dumb despair
One half the human race。
O suffering; sad humanity!
O ye afflicted one; who lie
Steeped to the lips in misery;
Longing; and yet afraid to die;
Patient; though sorely tried !
I pledge you in this cup of grief;
Where floats the fennel's bitter leaf !
The Battle of our Life is briet
The alarm;the struggle;the relief;
Then sleep we side by side。
MAIDENHOOD
Maiden! with the meek; brown eyes;
In whose orbs a shadow lies
Like the dusk in evening skies!
Thou whose locks outshine the sun;
Golden tresses; wreathed in one;
As the braided streamlets run!
Standing; with reluctant feet;
Where the brook and river meet;
Womanhood and childhood fleet!
Gazing; with a timid glance;
On the brooklet's swift advance;
On the river's broad expanse!
Deep and still; that gliding stream
Beautiful to thee must seem;
As the river of a dream。
Then why pause with indecision;
When bright angels in thy vision
Beckon thee to fields Elysian?
Seest thou shadows sailing by;
As the dove; with startled eye;
Sees the falcon's shadow fly?
Hearest thou voices on the shore;
That our ears perceive no mo