anthology of massachusetts poets(马萨诸赛诗人)-第2节
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What is the solace of these hills and vales That rise and fall？ What is
there glorious in the greenwood glen； Or twittering thrush or wing of
darting wren？ Give me the gusty； Raucous and rusty Call of the sea gull in
the echoing sky； The wild shriek of the winds that cannot die； Give me the
life that follows the bending sails； Or none at all！
ERNEST BENSHIMOL
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ANTHOLOGY OF MASSACHUSETTS POETS
A BANQUET ONE MEMORY
FROM SOCRATES
AFTER the song the love； and after the love the play； Flute girl and
pretty boy blowing Bubbles of sparkling Wine into darkling Beards of a
former austerity； stern even now； but Fast growing Foolish； with less of a
stately Reserve that held them sedately。 Oh Zeus； what a sight！ With the
wine dripping off it； The grin of an ass on a bald…pated prophet。
After the feast the night； and after the night the day； Fool and
philosopher stirring With the day dawning； Stretching and yawning； While
in each wine…throbbing； desolated brain is the Wheeling and whirring Of
thousands of bats； that the slaking Of throats will not hinder from aching；
No wine for the brow that is beating to bursting； But water at morning is
quench for the thirsting！
ERNEST BENSHIMOL
9
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ANTHOLOGY OF MASSACHUSETTS POETS
SONG
OUT of one heart the birds and I together； Earth hushed in twilight；
Low through the live…oaks hung heavy with silver； Gemmed with the sky…
light； Under the great wet star Shaking with light； we jar Lute…voiced the
silence with intervaled music。
While under the margined world the slow sun lingers； Flaming earth's
portal； Over the lilac dusk spreads his great fingers… Earth is immortal！
While the frail beauty dies。 Dream in the dreamer's eyes； All the good
gladness turns praise for the singers。
Hark； 'tis the breath of life！ Hush！ and I need it； Northern； gigantic；…
Questing the silences； herding the sudden foam Down the Atlantic； Leaves
from the autumn's store Shrill at my desert door； They and I out of one
heart that is grieving。
GEORGE CABOT LODGE
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ANTHOLOGY OF MASSACHUSETTS POETS
THE WORLDS
I SAW an idler on a summer day Piping with Iris by a dancing brook；
And all his world was rife with Pleasures gay； And languid Follies smiled
from every nook。
I saw an artist in a world of dreams； His rainbow rising from his
radiant task； To throw its magic prism beams O'er Fancy's changeful
masque and counter… masque。
I saw Toilstooping underneath a world Whereon his foster…brothers
lighter tread； His skyward pinions ever closer furled Before the grim
necessity of bread！
I saw a sinner working hard to be Worthy his death…wage from the
mint of time； I saw a sailor； unto whom the sea Was hearth and hope and
love and wedding… chime。
I saw a mother living in her child I saw a saint among his fellow
men Brave soldiery before my eyes defiled And solemn…hearted
scholarsSudden then
I cried： 〃The stars are no less neighborly In their ethereal remoteness
swung； Than these near human orbits wherein we Live out our lives and
speak our chosen tongue！
〃Love seek through allless there be one Least soul unlit within the
night And over all； the selfsame sun Give each creation light！〃
MARTHA GILBERT DICKINSON BIANCHI
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ANTHOLOGY OF MASSACHUSETTS POETS
THE RIOT
YOU may think my life is quiet。 I find it full of change； An ever…varied
diet； As piquant as 'tis strange。
Wild thoughts are always flying； Like sparks across my brain； Now
flashing out； now dying； To kindle soon again。
Fine fancies set me thrilling； And subtle monsters creep Before my
sight unwilling： They even haunt my sleep。
One broad； perpetual riot Enfolds me night and day。 You think my life
is quiet？ You don't know what you say。
GAMALIEL BRADFORD
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ANTHOLOGY OF MASSACHUSETTS POETS
HUNGER
I'VE been a hopeless sinner； but I understand a saint； Their bend of
weary knees and their con… tortions long and faint； And the endless pricks
of conscience； like a hundred thousand pins； A real perpetual penance for
imaginary sins。
I love to wander widely； but I understand a cell； Where you tell and tell
your beads because you've nothing else to tell； Where the crimson joy of
flesh； with all its wild fantastic tricks； Is forgotten in the blinding glory of
the crucifix。
I cannot speak for others； but my inmost soul is torn With a battle of
desires making all my life forlorn。 There are moments when I would
untread the paths that I have trod。 I'm a haunter of the devil； but I hunger
after God。
GAMALIEL BRADFORD
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ANTHOLOGY OF MASSACHUSETTS POETS
EXIT GOD
Of old our father's God was real； Something they almost saw； Which
kept them to a stern ideal And scourged them into awe。
They walked the narrow path of right Most vigilantly well； Because
they feared eternal night And boiling depths of Hell。
Now Hell has wholly boiled away And God become a shade。 There is
no place for him to stay In all the world He made。
The followers of William James Still let the Lord exist； And call Him
by imposing names； A venerable list。 But nerve and muscle only count；
Gray matter of the brain； And an astonishing amount Of inconvenient
pain。
I sometimes wish that God were back In this dark world and wide； For
though sonic virtues He might lack； He had his pleasant side。
GAMALIEL BRADFORD
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ANTHOLOGY OF MASSACHUSETTS POETS
CHAPTER ROUSSEAU
THAT odd； fantastic ass； Rousseau； Declared himself unique。 How
men persist in doing so； Puzzles me more than Greek。
The sins that tarnish whore and thief Beset me every day。 My most
ethereal belief Inhabits common clay。
GAMALIEL BRADFORD
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ANTHOLOGY OF MASSACHUSETTS POETS
JOHN MASEFIELD
I
MASEFIELD （HIMSELF）
GOD said； and frowned； as He looked on Shropshire clay： 〃Alone；
'twont do； composite； would I make This man…child rare； 'twere well；
methinks； to take A handful from the Stratford tomb； and weigh A few of
Shelley's ashes； Bunyan may Contribute； too； and； for my sweet Son's sake；
I'll visit Avalon； then； let me slake The whole with Wyclif…water from the
Bay。
A sailor； he！ Too godly； though； I fear； Offset it with tobacco！ Next；
I'll find Hedge…roses； star…dust； and a vagrant's mind； His mother's heart
now let me breathe upon； When west winds blow； I'll whisper in her ear：
〃Apocalypse awaits him； call him John！〃
II
HIS PORTRAIT
A Man of Sorrows！ with such haunted eyes； I trow； the Master looked
across the lake； Looked from the Judas…heart； so soon to make Of Him
the world's historic sacrifice； Moreover； as I gaze； do more arise； Great
souls； great pallid ghosts of pain； who wake And wander yet； all； weary
men who brake Their hearts； all hemlock…drunk； with growing wise：
Hudson adrift； Defoe； the Wandering Jew； Tannhauser； Faust； Andrea；
phantoms； all； In Masefield's eyes you lodge； and to the wall I turn you；
hand a…tremble；lest you make Of mine own stricken eyes a mirror； too。
Wherein the sad world's sadder for your sake。
III
HIS 〃DAUBER〃
O Mase
