satires of circumstance-第13节
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That she was the wicked onehe the good。
THE TELEGRAM
〃O he's sufferingmaybe dyingand I not there to aid;
And smooth his bed and whisper to him! Can I nohow go?
Only the nurse's brief twelve words thus hurriedly conveyed;
As by stealth; to let me know。
〃He was the best and brightest!candour shone upon his brow;
And I shall never meet again a soldier such as he;
And I loved him ere I knew it; and perhaps he's sinking now;
Far; far removed from me!〃
… The yachts ride mute at anchor and the fulling moon is fair;
And the giddy folk are strutting up and down the smooth parade;
And in her wild distraction she seems not to be aware
That she lives no more a maid;
But has vowed and wived herself to one who blessed the ground she
trod
To and from his scene of ministry; and thought her history known
In its last particular to himaye; almost as to God;
And believed her quite his own。
So great her absentmindedness she droops as in a swoon;
And a movement of aversion mars her recent spousal grace;
And in silence we two sit here in our waning honeymoon
At this idle watering…place 。 。 。
What now I see before me is a long lane overhung
With lovelessness; and stretching from the present to the grave。
And I would I were away from this; with friends I knew when young;
Ere a woman held me slave。
THE MOTH…SIGNAL
(On Egdon Heath)
〃What are you still; still thinking;〃
He asked in vague surmise;
〃That stare at the wick unblinking
With those great lost luminous eyes?〃
〃O; I see a poor moth burning
In the candle…flame;〃 said she;
Its wings and legs are turning
To a cinder rapidly。〃
〃Moths fly in from the heather;〃
He said; 〃now the days decline。〃
〃I know;〃 said she。 〃The weather;
I hope; will at last be fine。
〃I think;〃 she added lightly;
〃I'll look out at the door。
The ring the moon wears nightly
May be visible now no more。〃
She rose; and; little heeding;
Her husband then went on
With his attentive reading
In the annals of ages gone。
Outside the house a figure
Came from the tumulus near;
And speedily waxed bigger;
And clasped and called her Dear。
〃I saw the pale…winged token
You sent through the crack;〃 sighed she。
〃That moth is burnt and broken
With which you lured out me。
〃And were I as the moth is
It might be better far
For one whose marriage troth is
Shattered as potsherds are!〃
Then grinned the Ancient Briton
From the tumulus treed with pine:
〃So; hearts are thwartly smitten
In these days as in mine!〃
SEEN BY THE WAITS
Through snowy woods and shady
We went to play a tune
To the lonely manor…lady
By the light of the Christmas moon。
We violed till; upward glancing
To where a mirror leaned;
We saw her airily dancing;
Deeming her movements screened;
Dancing alone in the room there;
Thin…draped in her robe of night;
Her postures; glassed in the gloom there;
Were a strange phantasmal sight。
She had learnt (we heard when homing)
That her roving spouse was dead;
Why she had danced in the gloaming
We thought; but never said。
THE TWO SOLDIERS
Just at the corner of the wall
We metyes; he and I …
Who had not faced in camp or hall
Since we bade home good…bye;
And what once happened came backall …
Out of those years gone by。
And that strange woman whom we knew
And lovedlong dead and gone;
Whose poor half…perished residue;
Tombless and trod; lay yon!
But at this moment to our view
Rose like a phantom wan。
And in his fixed face I could see;
Lit by a lurid shine;
The drama re…enact which she
Had dyed incarnadine
For us; and more。 And doubtless he
Beheld it too in mine。
A start; as at one slightly known;
And with an indifferent air
We passed; without a sign being shown
That; as it real were;
A memory…acted scene had thrown
Its tragic shadow there。
THE DEATH OF REGRET
I opened my shutter at sunrise;
And looked at the hill hard by;
And I heartily grieved for the comrade
Who wandered up there to die。
I let in the morn on the morrow;
And failed not to think of him then;
As he trod up that rise in the twilight;
And never came down again。
I undid the shutter a week thence;
But not until after I'd turned
Did I call back his last departure
By the upland there discerned。
Uncovering the casement long later;
I bent to my toil till the gray;
When I said to myself; 〃Ahwhat ails me;
To forget him all the day!〃
As daily I flung back the shutter
In the same blank bald routine;
He scarcely once rose to remembrance
Through a month of my facing the scene。
And ah; seldom now do I ponder
At the window as heretofore
On the long valued one who died yonder;
And wastes by the sycamore。
IN THE DAYS OF CRINOLINE
A plain tilt…bonnet on her head
She took the path across the leaze。
… Her spouse the vicar; gardening; said;
〃Too dowdy that; for coquetries;
So I can hoe at ease。
But when she had passed into the heath;
And gained the wood beyond the flat;
She raised her skirts; and from beneath
Unpinned and drew as from a sheath
An ostrich…feathered hat。
And where the hat had hung she now
Concealed and pinned the dowdy hood;
And set the hat upon her brow;
And thus emerging from the wood
Tripped on in jaunty mood。
The sun was low and crimson…faced
As two came that way from the town;
And plunged into the wood untraced 。 。 。
When separately therefrom they paced
The sun had quite gone down。
The hat and feather disappeared;
The dowdy hood again was donned;
And in the gloom the fair one neared
Her home and husband dour; who conned
Calmly his blue…eyed blonde。
〃To…day;〃 he said; 〃you have shown good sense;
A dress so modest and so meek
Should always deck your goings hence
Alone。〃 And as a recompense
He kissed her on the cheek。
THE ROMAN GRAVEMOUNDS
By Rome's dim relics there walks a man;
Eyes bent; and he carries a basket and spade;
I guess what impels him to scrape and scan;
Yea; his dreams of that Empire long decayed。
〃Vast was Rome;〃 he must muse; 〃in the world's regard;
Vast it looms there still; vast it ever will be;〃
And he stoops as to dig and unmine some shard
Left by those who are held in such memory。
But no; in his basket; see; he has brought
A little white furred thing; stiff of limb;
Whose life never won from the world a thought;
It is this; and not Rome; that is moving him。
And to make it a grave he has come to the spot;
And he delves in the ancient dead's long home;
Their fames; their achievements; the man knows not;
The furred thing is all to himnothing Rome!
〃Here say you that Caesar's warriors lie? …
But my little white cat was my only friend!
Could she but live; might the record die
Of Caesar; his legions; his aims; his end!〃
Well; Rome's long rule here is oft and again
A theme for the sages of history;
And the small furred life was worth no one's pen;
Yet its mourner's mood has a charm for me。
November 1910。
THE WORKBOX
〃See; here's the workbox; little wife;
That I made of polished oak。〃
He was a joiner; of village life;
She came of borough folk。
He holds the present up to her
As with a smile she nears
And answers to the profferer;
〃'Twill last all my sewing years!〃
〃I warrant it will。 And longer too。
'Tis a scantling that I got
Off poor John Wayward's coffin; who
Died of they knew not what。
〃The shingled pattern that seems to cease
Against your box's rim
Continues right on in the piece
That's underground with him。
〃And while I worked it made me think
Of timber's varied doom;
One inch where people eat and drink;
The next inch in a tomb。
〃But why do you look so white; my dear;
And turn aside your face?
You knew not that good lad; I fear;
Though he came from your native place?〃
〃How could I know that good young man;
Though he came from my native town;
When he must have left there earlier than
I was a woman grown?〃
〃Ah no。 I should have understood!
It shocked you that I gave
To you one end of a piece of wood
Whose other is in a grave?〃
〃Don't; dear; despise my intellect;
Mere accidental things
Of that sort never have effect
On my imaginings。〃
Yet still her lips were limp and wan;
Her face still held aside;
As if she had known not only John;
But known of what he died。
THE SACRILEGE
A BALLAD…TRAGEDY
(Circa 182…)
PART I
〃I have a Love I love too well
Where Dunkery frowns on Exon Moor;
I have a Love I love too well;
To whom; ere she was mine;
'Such is my love for you;' I said;
'That you shall have to hood your head
A silken kerchief crimson…red;
Wove finest of the fine。'
〃And since this Love; for one mad moon;
On Exon Wild by Dunkery Tor;
Since this my Love for one mad moon
Did clasp me as her king;
I snatched a silk…piece red and rare
From off a stall at Priddy Fair;
For handkerchief to hood her hair
When we went gallanting。
〃Full soon the four weeks neared their end
Where Dunkery frowns on Exon Moor;
And when the four weeks neared their end;
And thei