the complete poetical works-第99节
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And the slow years sailed by and ceased to be。
And all these years had Martha Hilton served
In the Great House; not wholly unobserved:
By day; by night; the silver crescent grew;
Though hidden by clouds; her light still shining through;
A maid of all work; whether coarse or fine;
A servant who made service seem divine!
Through her each room was fair to look upon;
The mirrors glistened; and the brasses shone;
The very knocker on the outer door;
If she but passed; was brighter than before。
And now the ceaseless turning of the mill
Of Time; that never for an hour stands still;
Ground out the Governor's sixtieth birthday;
And powdered his brown hair with silver…gray。
The robin; the forerunner of the spring;
The bluebird with his jocund carolling;
The restless swallows building in the eaves;
The golden buttercups; the grass; the leaves;
The lilacs tossing in the winds of May;
All welcomed this majestic holiday!
He gave a splendid banquet served on plate;
Such as became the Governor of the State;
Who represented England and the King;
And was magnificent in everything。
He had invited all his friends and peers;
The Pepperels; the Langdons; and the Lears;
The Sparhawks; the Penhallows; and the rest;
For why repeat the name of every guest?
But I must mention one; in bands and gown;
The rector there; the Reverend Arthur Brown
Of the Established Church; with smiling face
He sat beside the Governor and said grace;
And then the feast went on; as others do;
But ended as none other I e'er knew。
When they had drunk the King; with many a cheer;
The Governor whispered in a servant's ear;
Who disappeared and presently there stood
Within the room; in perfect womanhood;
A maiden; modest and yet self…possessed;
Youthful and beautiful; and simply dressed。
Can this be Martha Hilton? It must be!
Yes; Martha Hilton; and no other she!
Dowered with the beauty of her twenty years;
How ladylike; how qneenlike she appears;
The pale; thin crescent of the days gone by
Is Dian now in all her majesty!
Yet scarce a guest perceived that she was there;
Until the Governor; rising from his chair;
Played slightly with his ruffles; then looked down;
And said unto the Reverend Arthur Brown:
〃This is my birthday: it shall likewise be
My wedding…day; and you shall marry me!〃
The listening guests were greatly mystified;
None more so than the rector; who replied:
〃Marry you? Yes; that were a pleasant task;
Your Excellency; but to whom? I ask。〃
The Governor answered: 〃To this lady here〃
And beckoned Martha Hilton to draw near。
She came and stood; all blushes; at his side。
The rector paused。 The impatient Governor cried:
〃This is the lady; do you hesitate?
Then I command you as Chief Magistrate。〃
The rector read the service loud and clear:
〃Dearly beloved; we are gathered here;〃
And so on to the end。 At his command
On the fourth finger of her fair left hand
The Governor placed the ring; and that was all:
Martha was Lady Wentworth of the Hall!
INTERLUDE。
Well pleased the audience heard the tale。
The Theologian said: 〃Indeed;
To praise you there is little need;
One almost hears the farmers flail
Thresh out your wheat; nor does there fail
A certain freshness; as you said;
And sweetness as of home…made bread。
But not less sweet and not less fresh
Are many legends that I know;
Writ by the monks of long…ago;
Who loved to mortify the flesh;
So that the soul might purer grow;
And rise to a diviner state;
And one of theseperhaps of all
Most beautifulI now recall;
And with permission will narrate;
Hoping thereby to make amends
For that grim tragedy of mine;
As strong and black as Spanish wine;
I told last night; and wish almost
It had remained untold; my friends;
For Torquemada's awful ghost
Came to me in the dreams I dreamed;
And in the darkness glared and gleamed
Like a great lighthouse on the coast。〃
The Student laughing said: 〃Far more
Like to some dismal fire of bale
Flaring portentous on a hill;
Or torches lighted on a shore
By wreckers in a midnight gale。
No matter; be it as you will;
Only go forward with your tale。〃
THE THEOLOGIAN'S TALE
THE LEGEND BEAUTIFUL
〃Hads't thou stayed; I must have fled!〃
That is what the Vision said。
In his chamber all alone;
Kneeling on the floor of stone;
Prayed the Monk in deep contrition
For his sins of indecision;
Prayed for greater self…denial
In temptation and in trial;
It was noonday by the dial;
And the Monk was all alone。
Suddenly; as if it lightened;
An unwonted splendor brightened
All within him and without him
In that narrow cell of stone;
And he saw the Blessed Vision
Of our Lord; with light Elysian
Like a vesture wrapped about him;
Like a garment round him thrown。
Not as crucified and slain;
Not in agonies of pain;
Not with bleeding hands and feet;
Did the Monk his Master see;
But as in the village street;
In the house or harvest…field;
Halt and lame and blind he healed;
When he walked in Galilee。
In an attitude imploring;
Hands upon his bosom crossed;
Wondering; worshipping; adoring;
Knelt the Monk in rapture lost。
Lord; he thought; in heaven that reignest;
Who am I; that thus thou deignest
To reveal thyself to me?
Who am I; that from the centre
Of thy glory thou shouldst enter
This poor cell; my guest to be?
Then amid his exaltation;
Loud the convent bell appalling;
From its belfry calling; calling;
Rang through court and corridor
With persistent iteration
He had never heard before。
It was now the appointed hour
When alike in shine or shower;
Winter's cold or summer's heat;
To the convent portals came
All the blind and halt and lame;
All the beggars of the street;
For their daily dole of food
Dealt them by the brotherhood;
And their almoner was he
Who upon his bended knee;
Rapt in silent ecstasy
Of divinest self…surrender;
Saw the Vision and the Splendor。
Deep distress and hesitation
Mingled with his adoration;
Should he go; or should he stay?
Should he leave the poor to wait
Hungry at the convent gate;
Till the Vision passed away?
Should he slight his radiant guest;
Slight this visitant celestial;
For a crowd of ragged; bestial
Beggars at the convent gate?
Would the Vision there remain?
Would the Vision come again?
Then a voice within his breast
Whispered; audible and clear
As if to the outward ear:
〃Do thy duty; that is best;
Leave unto thy Lord the rest!〃
Straightway to his feet he started;
And with longing look intent
On the Blessed Vision bent;
Slowly from his cell departed;
Slowly on his errand went。
At the gate the poor were waiting;
Looking through the iron grating;
With that terror in the eye
That is only seen in those
Who amid their wants and woes
Hear the sound of doors that close;
And of feet that pass them by;
Grown familiar with disfavor;
Grown familiar with the savor
Of the bread by which men die!
But to…day; they knew not why;
Like the gate of Paradise
Seemed the convent sate to rise;
Like a sacrament divine
Seemed to them the bread and wine。
In his heart the Monk was praying;
Thinking of the homeless poor;
What they suffer and endure;
What we see not; what we see;
And the inward voice was saying:
〃Whatsoever thing thou doest
To the least of mine and lowest;
That thou doest unto me!〃
Unto me! but had the Vision
Come to him in beggar's clothing;
Come a mendicant imploring;
Would he then have knelt adoring;
Or have listened with derision;
And have turned away with loathing。
Thus his conscience put the question;
Full of troublesome suggestion;
As at length; with hurried pace;
Towards his cell he turned his face;
And beheld the convent bright
With a supernatural light;
Like a luminous cloud expanding
Over floor and wall and ceiling。
But he paused with awe…struck feeling
At the threshold of his door;
For the Vision still was standing
As he left it there before;
When the convent bell appalling;
From its belfry calling; calling;
Summoned him to feed the poor。
Through the long hour intervening
It had waited his return;
And he felt his bosom burn;
Comprehending all the meaning;
When the Blessed Vision said;
〃Hadst thou stayed; I must have fled!〃
INTERLUDE。
All praised the Legend more or less;
Some liked the moral; some the verse;
Some thought it better; and some worse
Than other legends of the past;
Until; with ill…concealed distress
At all their cavilling; at last
The Theologian gravely said:
〃The Spanish proverb; then; is right;
Consult your friends on what you do;
And one will say that it is white;
And others say that it is red。〃
And 〃Amen!〃 quoth the Spanish Jew。
〃Six stories told! We must ha