Obrázky stránek
PDF
ePub

The white chalk-quarry from the hill
Gleam'd to the flying moon by fits.
„O that I were beside her now!

O will she answer if I call?
O would she give me vow for vow,
Sweet Alice, if I told her all?"
Sometimes I saw you sit and spin;
And, in the pauses of the wind,
Sometimes I heard you sing within

Sometimes your shadow cross'd the blind.
At last you rose and moved the light,
And the long shadow of the chair
Flitted across into the night,

And all the casement darken'd there. But when at last I dared to speak,

The lanes, you know, were white with May, Your ripe lips moved not, but your cheek Flush'd like the coming of the day; And so it was half-sly, half-shy, You would, and would not, little one! Although I pleaded tenderly,

[ocr errors]

my

And you and I were all alone. And slowly was my mother brought To yield consent to desire: She wish'd me happy, but she thought I might have look'd a little higher; And I was young too young to wed: Yet must I love her for your sake; Go fetch your Alice here," she said: Her eyelid quiver'd as she spake. And down I went to fetch

my

bride: But, Alice, you were ill at ease; This dress and that by turns you tried, Too fearful that you should not please. I loved you better for your fears,

I knew you could not look but well; And dews, that would have fall'n in tears, I kiss'd away before they fell. I watch'd the little flutterings,

The doubt my mother would not see; She spoke at large of many things, And at the last she spoke of me; And turning look'd upon your face, As near this door you sat apart, And rose, and, with a silent grace Approaching, press'd you heart to heart. Ah, well- but sing the foolish song I gave you, Alice, on the day When, arm in arm, we went along, A pensive pair, and you were gay With bridal flowers that I may seem, As in the nights of old, to lie

Beside the mill-wheel in the stream, While those full chestnuts whisper by.

It is the miller's daughter,

And she is grown so dear, so dear,
That I would be the jewel

That trembles at her ear,
For hid in ringlets day and night,
I'd touch her neck so warm and white.
And I would be the girdle

About her dainty dainty waist,
And her heart would beat against me,
In sorrow and in rest.

And I should know if it beat right,
I'd clasp it round so close and tight.
And I would be the necklace,

And all day long to fall and rise
Upon her balmy bosom,

With her laughter or her sighs,
And I would lie so light, so light,
I scarce should be unclasp'd at night.

A trifle, sweet! which true love spells
True love interprets right alone.
His light upon the letter dwells,

For all the spirit is his own.
So if I waste words now, in truth

You must blame Love. His early rage
Had force to make me rhyme in youth,
And makes me talk too much in age.
And now those vivid hours are gone,
Like mine own life to me thou art,
Where Past and Present, wound in one,
Do make a garland for the heart:
So sing that other song I made,

Half-anger'd with my happy lot,
The day, when in the chestnut shade
I found the blue Forget-me-not.

Love that hath us in the net
Can he pass, and we forget?
Many suns arise and set.
Many a chance the years beget.
Love the gift is Love the debt:
Even so

Love is hurt with jar and fret.
Love is made a vague regret.
Eyes with idle tears are wet.
Idle habit links us yet.
What is love? for we forget:
Ah, no! no!

Look thro' mine eyes with thine. True wife,

Round my true heart thine arms entwine; My other dearer life in life,

Look thro' my very soul with thine! Untouch'd with any shade of years, May those kind eyes for ever dwell! They have not shed a many tears,

Dear eyes, since first I knew them well. Yet tears they shed: they had their part Of sorrow: for when time was ripe, The still affection of the heart

Became an outward breathing type, That into stillness past again,

And left a want unknown before; Although the loss that brought us pain, That loss but made us love the more. With farther lookings on. The kiss, The woven arms, seem but to be Weak symbols of the settled bliss, The comfort, I have found in thee: But that God bless thee, dear - who wrought Two spirits to one equal mind With blessings beyond hope or thought, With blessings which no words can find. Arise, and let us wander forth,

-

To yon old mill across the wolds; For look, the sunset, south and north, Winds all the vale in rosy folds, And fires your narrow casement glass, Touching the sullen pool below: On the chalk-hill the bearded grass Is dry and dewless. Let us go.

FATIM A.

O LOVE, Love, Love! O withering might!
O sun, that from thy noonday height
Shudderest when I strain my sight,
Throbbing thro' all thy heat and light,
Lo, falling from my constant mind,
Lo, parch'd and wither'd, deaf and blind,
I whirl like leaves in roaring wind.
Last night I wasted hateful hours
Below the city's eastern towers:
I thirsted for the brooks, the showers:
I roll'd among the tender flowers:

I crush'd them on my breast, my mouth:
I look'd athwart the burning drouth
Of that long desert to the south.

Last night, when some one spoke his name,
From my swift blood that went and came
A thousand little shafts of flame
Were shiver'd in my narrow frame.
O Love, O fire! once he drew

With one long kiss my whole soul thro' My lips, as sunlight drinketh dew. Before he mounts the hill, I know He cometh quickly: from below Sweet gales, as from deep gardens, blow Before him, striking on my brow.

In my dry brain my spirit soon,
Down-deepening from swoon to swoon,
Faints like a dazzled morning moon.
The wind sounds like a silver wire,
And from beyond the noon a fire
Is pour'd upon the hills, and nigher
The skies stoop down in their desire,
And, isled in sudden seas of light,
My heart,pierced thro' with fierce delight,
Bursts into blossom in his sight.
My whole soul waiting silently,
All naked in a sultry sky,
Droops blinded with his shining eye:
I will possess him or will die.

I will grow round him in his place,
Grow, live, die looking on his face,
Die, dying, clasp'd in his embrace.

CENONE.

THERE lies a vale in Ida, lovelier
Than all the valleys of Ionian hills.
The swimming vapour slopes athwart the
(glen,

Puts forth an arm, and creeps from pine to (pine,

And loiters, slowly drawn. On either band The lawns and meadow-ledges midway (down

Hang rich in flowers, and far below them (roars

The long brook falling thro' the clov'n ravine
In cataract after cataract to the sea.
Behind the valley topmost Gargarus
Stands up and takes the morning: but in
(front

The gorges, opening wide apart, reveal
Troas and Ilion's column'd citadel,
The crown of Troas.

Hither came at moon
Mournful Enone, wandering forlorn
Of Paris, once her playmate on the hills.
Her cheek had lost the rose, and round her
(neck

Floated her hair or seem'd to float in rest. She,leaning on a fragment twined with vine, Sang to the stillness,till the mountain-shade

Sloped downward to her seat from the up(per cliff.

"O mother Ida, many-fountain'd Ida,
Dear mother Ida, harken ere I die.

For now the noonday quiet holds the hill:
The grasshopper is silent in the grass:
The lizard, with his shadow on the stone,
Rests like a shadow, and the cicala sleeps.
The purple flowers droop: the golden bee
Is lily-cradled; I alone awake.

My eyes are full of tears, my heart of Iove,
My heart is breaking, and my eyes are dim,
And I am all aweary of my life.

Ida,

„O mother Ida, many-fountain'd Dear mother Ida, harken ere I die. Hear me, O Earth, hear me, O Hills, O Caves That house the cold crown'd snake! O (mountain brooks,

I am the daughter of a River-God,
Hear me, for I will speak, and build up all
My sorrow with my song, as yonder walis
Rose slowly to a music slowly breathed,
A cloud that gather'd shape: for it may be
That, while I speak of it, a little while
My heart may wander from its deeper woe.
"O mother Ida, many-fountain'd Ida,
Dear mother Ida, harken ere I die.
I waited underneath the dawning hills,
Aloft the mountain lawn was dewy-dark,
And dewy-dark aloft the mountain pine:
Beautiful Paris, evil-hearted Paris,
Leading a jet-black goat white-horn'd,
(white-hooved.

Came up from reedy Simois all alone.

"O mother Ida, harken ere I die.

Far-off the torrent call'd me from the cleft:
Far up the solitary morning smote
The streaks of virgin snow. With down-
(dropt eyes

I sat alone: white-breasted like a star
Fronting the dawn he moved: a leopard skin
Droop'd from his shoulder, but his sunny
(hair

Cluster'd about his temples like a God's ; And his cheek brighten'd as the foam-bow (brightens

When the wind blows the foam, and all my (heart

Went forth to embrace him coming ere he

(came.

"Dear mother Ida, harken ere I die. He smiled, and opening out his milk-white (palm

Disclosed a fruit of pure Hesperian gold. That smelt ambrosially, and while I look'd And listen'd, the full-flowing river of speech Came down upon my heart.

'My own Enone, Beautiful-brow'd Enone, my own soul, Behold this fruit, whose gleaming rind in(grav'n

"For the most fair," would seem to award it (thine,

As lovelier than whatever Oread haunt
The knolls of Ida, loveliest in all grace-
Of movement, and the charm of married
(brows.

Dear mother Ida, harken ere I die.
He prest the blossom of his lips to mine,
And added, "This was cast upon the board,
When all the full-faced presence of the Gods
Ranged in the halls of Peleus; whereupon
Rose feud, with question unto whom 't were
(due:

But light-foot Iris brought it yester-eve,
Delivering, that to me, by common voice
Elected umpire, Herè comes to-day,
Pallas and Aphrodite, claiming each
This meed of fairest. Thou, within the cave
Behind you whispering tuft of oldest pine,
Mayst well behold them, unbeheld, unheard
Hear all, and see thy Paris judge of Gods."

Dear mother Ida, harken ere I die.
It was the deep midnoon; one silvery cloud
Had lost his way between the piney sides
Of this long glen. Then to the bower they
(came,

Naked they came to that smooth-swarded (bower,

And at their feet the crocus brake like fire,
Violet, amaracus, and asphodel,
Lotos and lilies: and a wind arose,
And overhead the wandering ivy and vine,
This way and that, in many a wild festoon
Ran riot, garlanding the gnarled boughs
With bunch and berry and flower thro' and
(thro'.

"O mother Ida, harken ere I die. And o'er him flow'd a golden cloud, and On the tree-tops a crested peacock lit, (lean'd

Upon him, slowly dropping fragrant dew, Then first I heard the voice of her, to whom Coming thro' Heaven, like a light that grows Larger and clearer, with one mind the Gods Rise up for reverence. She to Paris made

Proffer of royal power, ample rule Unquestion'd, overflowing revenue Wherewith to embellish state, 'from many (a vale

And river-sunder'd champaign clothed with (corn,

Or labour'd mines undrainable of ore. Honour,' she said, 'and homage, tax and toll, From many an inland town and haven large, Mast-throng'd beneath her shadowing ci(tadel

In glassy bays among her tallest towers.' "O mother Ida, harken ere I die. Still she spake on and still she spake of (power,

'Which in all action is the end of all; Power fitted to the season; wisdom bred And throned of wisdom from all neigh(bour crowns

Alliance and allegiance, till thy hand Fail from the sceptre-staff. Such boon from (me,

From me, Heaven's Queen, Paris, to thee (king-born,

A shepherd all thy life but yet king-born, Should come most welcome, seeing men, in (power,

Only, are likest gods, who have attain'd
Rest in a happy place and quiet seats
Above the thunder, with undying bliss
In knowledge of their own supremacy.'

Dear mother Ida, harken ere I die.
She ceased, and Paris held the costly fruit
Out at arm's-length, so much the thought of
(power

Flatter'd his spirit;but Pallas where she stood
Somewhat apart, her clear and bared limbs
O'erthwarted with the brazen-headed spear
Upon her pearly shoulder leaning cold,
The while, above, her full and earnest eye
Over her snow-cold breast and angry cheek
Kept watch, waiting decision, made reply.
'Self-reverence, self-knowledge, self-con-
(trol,

These three alone lead life to sovereign (power.

Yet not for power, (power of herself Would come uncall'd for) but to live by law, Acting the law we live by without fear; And, because right is right, to follow right Were wisdom in the scorn of consequence.'

,,Dear mother Ida, harken ere I die. Again she said: 'I woo thee not with gifts.

[blocks in formation]

If gazing on divinity disrobed
Thy mortal eyes are frail to judge of fair,
Unbiass'd by self-profit, oh! rest thee sure
That I shall love thee well and cleave to thee,
So that my vigour, wedded to thy blood,
Shall strike within thy pulses, like a God's,
To push thee forward thro' a life of shocks,
Dangers, and deeds, until endurance grow
Sinew'd with action,and the full-grownwill,
Circled thro' all experiences, pure law,
Commeasure perfect freedom.'
"Here she ceased
And Paris ponder'd, and I cried, 'O Paris,
Give it to Pallas' but he heard me not,
Or hearing would not hear me, woe is me!
"O mother Ida, many fountain'd Ida,
Dear mother Ida, harken ere I die.
Idalian Aphrodite beautiful,
Fresh as the foam, new-bathed in Paphian
(wells,

With rosy slender fingers backward drew From her warm brows and bosom her deep hair

Ambrosial, golden round her lucid throat And shoulder: from the violets her light foot Shone rosy-white, and o'er her rounded form Between the shadows of the vine-bunches Floated the glowing sunlights, as she moved.

Dear mother Ida, harken ere I die.
She with a subtle smile in her mild eyes,
The herald of her triumph, drawing nigh
Half-whisper'd in his ear, I promise thee
The fairest and most loving wife in Greece,'
She spoke and laugh'd: I shut my sight for
(fear:

But when 1 look'd, Paris had raised his arm
And I beheld great Here's angry eyes,
As she withdrew into the golden cloud,
And I was left alone within the bower;
And from that time to this I am alone,
And I shall be alone until I die.

"Yet, mother Ida, harken ere I die. Fairest why fairest wife? am I not fair? My love hath told me so a thousand times. Methinks I must be fair, for yesterday, When I past by, a wild and wanton pard, Eyed like the evening star, with playful tail Crouch'd fawning in the weed. Most loving (is she?

Ah me, my mountain shepherd,that my arms Were wound about thee, and my hot lips (prest

Close, close to thine in that quick-falling (dew

Of fruitful kisses, thick as Autumn rains Flash in the pools of whirling Simois.

O mother, hear me yet before I die. They came, they cut away my tallest pines, My dark tall pines, that plumed the craggy (ledge

High over the blue gorge, and all between The snowy peak and snow-white cataract Forster'd the callow eaglet - from beneath Whose thick mysterious boughs in the dark (morn

The panther's roar came muffled, while I sat Low in the valley. Never, never more Shall lone Enone see the morning mist Sweep thro' them; never see them overlaid With narrow moon-lit slips of silver cloud, Between the loud stream and the trembling (stars.

"O mother, hear me yet before I die. I wish that somewhere in the ruin'd folds Among the fragments tumbled from the (glens,

Or the dry thickets, I could meet with her,
The Abominable, that uninvited came
Into the fair Peleïan banquet-hall,
And cast the golden fruit upon the board,
And bred this change; that I might speak
(my mind,

And tell her to her face how much I hate
Her presence, hated both of Gods and men.

O mother, hear me yet before I die. Hath he not sworn his lovea thousand times, In this green valley, under this green hill, Ev'n on this hand, and sitting on this stone? Seal'd it with kisses? water'd it with tears? O happy tears, and how unlike to these! Ohappy Heaven,how canst thou see my face? O happy earth, how canst thou bear my (weight?

O death, death, death, thou ever floating (cloud,

I

There are enough unhappy on this earth, Pass by the happy souls, that love to live: pray thee, pass before my light of live, And shadow all my soul, that I may die. Thou weighest heavy on the heart within, Weigh heavy on my eyelids: let me die.

O mother, hear me yet before I die.

I will not die alone, for fiery thoughts Do shape themselves within me, more and (more,

Whereof I catch the issue, as I hear Dead sounds at night come from the inmost (hills,

Like footsteps upon wool. I dimly see My far-off doubtful purpose, as a mother Conjectures of the features of her child

Ere it is born: her child! - a shudder comes Across me: never child be born of me, Unblest, to vex me with his father's eyes!

"O mother, hear me yet before I die. Hear me, O earth. I will not die alone, Lest their shrill happy laughter come to me Walking the cold and starless road of Death Uncomforted, leaving my ancient love With the Greek woman. I will rise and go Down into Troy, and ere the stars come forth Talk with the wild Cassandra, for she says A fire dances before her, and a sound Rings ever in her ears of armed men. What this may be I know not, but I know That, wheresoe'er I am by night and day, All earth and air seem only burning fire."

THE SISTERS.
WE were two daughters of one race:
She was the fairest in the face:

The wind is blowing in turret and tree. They were together, and she fell : Therefore revenge became me well.

O the Earl was fair to see!

She died she went to burning flame: She mix'd her ancient blood with shame.

The wind is howling in turret and tree. Whole weeks and months,and early and late, To win his love I lay in wait:

O the Earl was fair to see!

I made a feast; I bade him come;
I won his love, I brought him home.
The wind is roaring in turret and tree.
And after supper, on a bed,
Upon my lap he laid his head:

O the Earl was fair to see!

I kiss'd his eyelids into rest:
His ruddy cheek upon my breast.

The wind is raging in turret and tree.
I hated him with the hate of hell,
But I loved his beauty passing well.
O the Earl was fair to see!
I rose up in the silent night:

« PředchozíPokračovat »