the complete poetical works-第25节
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Its wondrous and harmonious strings；
In sweet vibration； sphere by sphere；
From Dian's circle light and near；
Onward to vaster and wider rings。
Where； chanting through his beard of snows；
Majestic； mournful； Saturn goes；
And down the sunless realms of space
Reverberates the thunder of his bass。
Beneath the sky's triumphal arch
This music sounded like a march；
And with its chorus seemed to be
Preluding some great tragedy。
Sirius was rising in the east；
And； slow ascending one by one；
The kindling constellations shone。
Begirt with many a blazing star；
Stood the great giant Algebar；
Orion； hunter of the beast！
His sword hung gleaming by his side；
And； on his arm； the lion's hide
Scattered across the midnight air
The golden radiance of its hair。
The moon was pallid； but not faint；
And beautiful as some fair saint；
Serenely moving on her way
In hours of trial and dismay。
As if she heard the voice of God；
Unharmed with naked feet she trod
Upon the hot and burning stars；
As on the glowing coals and bars；
That were to prove her strength； and try
Her holiness and her purity。
Thus moving on； with silent pace；
And triumph in her sweet； pale face；
She reached the station of Orion。
Aghast he stood in strange alarm！
And suddenly from his outstretched arm
Down fell the red skin of the lion
Into the river at his feet。
His mighty club no longer beat
The forehead of the bull； but he
Reeled as of yore beside the sea；
When； blinded by Oenopion；
He sought the blacksmith at his forge；
And； climbing up the mountain gorge；
Fixed his blank eyes upon the sun。
Then； through the silence overhead；
An angel with a trumpet said；
〃Forevermore； forevermore；
The reign of violence is o'er！〃
And； like an instrument that flings
Its music on another's strings；
The trumpet of the angel cast
Upon the heavenly lyre its blast；
And on from sphere to sphere the words
Re…echoed down the burning chords；
〃Forevermore； forevermore；
The reign of violence is o'er！〃
THE BRIDGE
I stood on the bridge at midnight；
As the clocks were striking the hour；
And the moon rose o'er the city；
Behind the dark church…tower。
I saw her bright reflection
In the waters under me；
Like a golden goblet falling
And sinking into the sea。
And far in the hazy distance
Of that lovely night in June；
The blaze of the flaming furnace
Gleamed redder than the moon。
Among the long； black rafters
The wavering shadows lay；
And the current that came from the ocean
Seemed to lift and bear them away；
As； sweeping and eddying through them；
Rose the belated tide；
And； streaming into the moonlight；
The seaweed floated wide。
And like those waters rushing
Among the wooden piers；
A flood of thoughts came o'er me
That filled my eyes with tears。
How often； oh； how often；
In the days that had gone by；
I had stood on that bridge at midnight
And gazed on that wave and sky！
How often； oh； how often；
I had wished that the ebbing tide
Would bear me away on its bosom
O'er the ocean wild and wide！
For my heart was hot and restless；
And my life was full of care；
And the burden laid upon me
Seemed greater than I could bear。
But now it has fallen from me；
It is buried in the sea；
And only the sorrow of others
Throws its shadow over me。
Yet whenever I cross the river
On its bridge with wooden piers；
Like the odor of brine from the ocean
Comes the thought of other years。
And I think how many thousands
Of care…encumbered men；
Each bearing his burden of sorrow；
Have crossed the bridge since then。
I see the long procession
Still passing to and fro；
The young heart hot and restless；
And the old subdued and slow！
And forever and forever；
As long as the river flows；
As long as the heart has passions；
As long as life has woes；
The moon and its broken reflection
And its shadows shall appear；
As the symbol of love in heaven；
And its wavering image here。
TO THE DRIVING CLOUD
Gloomy and dark art thou； O chief of the mighty Omahas；
Gloomy and dark as the driving cloud； whose name thou hast taken！
Wrapt in thy scarlet blanket； I see thee stalk through the city's
Narrow and populous streets； as once by the margin of rivers
Stalked those birds unknown； that have left us only their
footprints。
What； in a few short years； will remain of thy race but the
footprints？
How canst thou walk these streets； who hast trod the green turf
of the prairies！
How canst thou breathe this air； who hast breathed the sweet air
of the mountains！
Ah！ 't is in vain that with lordly looks of disdain thou dost
challenge
Looks of disdain in return；； and question these walls and these
pavements；
Claiming the soil for thy hunting…grounds； while down…trodden
millions
Starve in the garrets of Europe； and cry from its caverns that
they； too；
Have been created heirs of the earth； and claim its division！
Back； then； back to thy woods in the regions west of the Wabash！
There as a monarch thou reignest。 In autumn the leaves of the
maple
Pave the floors of thy palace…halls with gold； and in summer
Pine…trees waft through its chambers the odorous breath of their
branches。
There thou art strong and great； a hero； a tamer of horses！
There thou chasest the stately stag on the banks of the Elkhorn；
Or by the roar of the Running…Water； or where the Omaha
Calls thee； and leaps through the wild ravine like a brave of the
Blackfeet！
Hark！ what murmurs arise from the heart of those mountainous
deserts？
Is it the cry of the Foxes and Crows； or the mighty Behemoth；
Who； unharmed； on his tusks once caught the bolts of the thunder；
And now lurks in his lair to destroy the race of the red man？
Far more fatal to thee and thy race than the Crows and the Foxes；
Far more fatal to thee and thy race than the tread of Behemoth；
Lo！ the big thunder…canoe； that steadily breasts the Missouri's
Merciless current！ and yonder； afar on the prairies； the
camp…fires
Gleam through the night； and the cloud of dust in the gray of the
daybreak
Marks not the buffalo's track； nor the Mandan's dexterous
horse…race；
It is a caravan； whitening the desert where dwell the Camanches！
Ha！ how the breath of these Saxons and Celts； like the blast of
the east…wind；
Drifts evermore to the west the scanty smokes of thy wigwams！
SONGS
THE DAY IS DONE
The day is done； and the darkness
Falls from the wings of Night；
As a feather is wafted downward
From an eagle in his flight。
I see the lights of the village
Gleam through the rain and the mist；
And a feeling of sadness comes o'er me
That my soul cannot resist：
A feeling of sadness and longing；
That is not akin to pain；
And resembles sorrow only
As the mist resembles the rain。
Come； read to me some poem；
Some simple and heartfelt lay；
That shall soothe this restless feeling；
And banish the thoughts of day。
Not from the grand old masters；
Not from the bards sublime；
Whose distant footsteps echo
Through the corridors of Time。
For； like strains of martial music；
Their mighty thoughts suggest
Life's endless toil and endeavor；
And to…night I long for rest。
Read from some humbler poet；
Whose songs gushed from his heart；
As showers from the clouds of summer；
Or tears from the eyelids start；
Who； through long days of labor；
And nights devoid of ease；
Still heard in his soul the music
Of wonderful melodies。
Such songs have power to quiet
The restless pulse of care；
And come like the benediction
That follows after prayer。
Then read from the treasured volume
The poem of thy choice；
And lend to the rhyme of the poet
The beauty of thy voice。
And the night shall be filled with music
And the cares； that infest the day；
Shall fold their tents； like the Arabs；
And as silently steal away。
AFTERNOON IN FEBRUARY
The day is ending；
The night is descending；
The marsh is frozen；
The river dead。
Through clouds like ashes
The red sun flashes
On village windows
That glimmer red。
The snow recommences；
The buried fences
Mark no longer
The road o'er the plain；
While through the meadows；
Like fearful shadows；
Slowly passes
A funeral train。
The bell is pealing；
And every feeling
Within me responds
To the dismal knell；
Shadows are trailing；
My heart is bewailing
And tolling within
Like a funeral bell。
TO AN OLD DANISH SONG…BOOK
Welcome； my old friend；
Welcome to a foreign fireside；
While the sullen gales of autumn
Shake the windows。
The ungrateful world
Has； it seems； dealt
