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第3节

the ballad of the white horse-第3节

小说: the ballad of the white horse 字数: 每页4000字

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Inwards; and eastward drive him down;
I doubt if you shall take the crown
Till you have taken London town。
For me; I have the vines。〃

〃If each man on the Judgment Day
Meet God on a plain alone;〃
Said Alfred; 〃I will speak for you
As for myself; and call it true
That you brought all fighting folk you knew
Lined under Egbert's Stone。

〃Though I be in the dust ere then;
I know where you will be。〃
And shouldering suddenly his spear
He faded like some elfin fear;
Where the tall pines ran up; tier on tier
Tree overtoppling tree。

He shouldered his spear at morning
And laughed to lay it on;
But he leaned on his spear as on a staff;
With might and little mood to laugh;
Or ever he sighted chick or calf
Of Colan of Caerleon。

For the man dwelt in a lost land
Of boulders and broken men;
In a great grey cave far off to the south
Where a thick green forest stopped the mouth;
Giving darkness in his den。

And the man was come like a shadow;
From the shadow of Druid trees;
Where Usk; with mighty murmurings;
Past Caerleon of the fallen kings;
Goes out to ghostly seas。

Last of a race in ruin
He spoke the speech of the Gaels;
His kin were in holy Ireland;
Or up in the crags of Wales。

But his soul stood with his mother's folk;
That were of the rain…wrapped isle;
Where Patrick and Brandan westerly
Looked out at last on a landless sea
And the sun's last smile。

His harp was carved and cunning;
As the Celtic craftsman makes;
Graven all over with twisting shapes
Like many headless snakes。

His harp was carved and cunning;
His sword prompt and sharp;
And he was gay when he held the sword;
Sad when he held the harp。

For the great Gaels of Ireland
Are the men that God made mad;
For all their wars are merry;
And all their songs are sad。

He kept the Roman order;
He made the Christian sign;
But his eyes grew often blind and bright;
And the sea that rose in the rocks at night
Rose to his head like wine。

He made the sign of the cross of God;
He knew the Roman prayer;
But he had unreason in his heart
Because of the gods that were。

Even they that walked on the high cliffs;
High as the clouds were then;
Gods of unbearable beauty;
That broke the hearts of men。

And whether in seat or saddle;
Whether with frown or smile;
Whether at feast or fight was he;
He heard the noise of a nameless sea
On an undiscovered isle。

Lifting the great green ivy
And the great spear lowering;
One said; 〃I am Alfred of Wessex;
And I am a conquered king。〃

And the man of the cave made answer;
And his eyes were stars of scorn;
〃And better kings were conquered
Or ever your sires were born。

〃What goddess was your mother;
What fay your breed begot;
That you should not die with Uther
And Arthur and Lancelot?

〃But when you win you brag and blow;
And when you lose you rail;
Army of eastland yokels
Not strong enough to fail。〃

〃I bring not boast or railing;〃
Spake Alfred not in ire;
〃I bring of Our Lady a lesson set;
Thisthat the sky grows darker yet
And the sea rises higher。〃

Then Colan of the Sacred Tree
Tossed his black mane on high;
And cried; as rigidly he rose;
〃And if the sea and sky be foes;
We will tame the sea and sky。〃

Smiled Alfred; 〃Seek ye a fable
More dizzy and more dread
Than all your mad barbarian tales
Where the sky stands on its head ?

〃A tale where a man looks down on the sky
That has long looked down on him;
A tale where a man can swallow a sea
That might swallow the seraphim。

〃Bring to the hut by Egbert's Stone
All bills and bows ye have。〃
And Alfred strode off rapidly;
And Colan of the Sacred Tree
Went slowly to his cave。



BOOK III

THE HARP OF ALFRED



In a tree that yawned and twisted

The King's few goods were flung;

A mass…book mildewed; line by line;
And weapons and a skin of wine;
And an old harp unstrung。

By the yawning tree in the twilight
The King unbound his sword;
Severed the harp of all his goods;
And there in the cool and soundless woods
Sounded a single chord。

Then laughed; and watched the finches flash;
The sullen flies in swarm;
And went unarmed over the hills;
With the harp upon his arm;



Until he came to the White Horse Vale

And saw across the plains;
In the twilight high and far and fell;
Like the fiery terraces of hell;
The camp fires of the Danes

The fires of the Great Army
That was made of iron men;
Whose lights of sacrilege and scorn
Ran around England red as morn;
Fires over Glastonbury Thorn
Fires out on Ely Fen。

And as he went by White Horse Vale
He saw lie wan and wide
The old horse graven; God knows when;
By gods or beasts or what things then
Walked a new world instead of men
And scrawled on the hill…side。

And when he came to White Horse Down
The great White Horse was grey;
For it was ill scoured of the weed;
And lichen and thorn could crawl and feed;
Since the foes of settled house and creed
Had swept old works away。

King Alfred gazed all sorrowful
At thistle and mosses grey;
Then laughed; and watched the finches flash;
Till a rally of Danes with shield and bill
Rolled drunk over the dome of the hill;
And; hearing of his harp and skill;
They dragged him to their play。

And as they went through the high green grass
They roared like the great green sea;
But when they came to the red camp fire
They were silent suddenly。

And as they went up the wastes away
They went reeling to and fro;
But when they came to the red camp fire
They stood all in a row。

For golden in the firelight;
With a smile carved on his lips;
And a beard curled right cunningly;
Was Guthrum of the Northern Sea;
The emperor of the ships

With three great earls King Guthrum
Went the rounds from fire to fire;
With Harold; nephew of the King;
And Ogier of the Stone and Sling;
And Elf; whose gold lute had a string
That sighed like all desire。

The Earls of the Great Army
That no men born could tire;
Whose flames anear him or aloof
Took hold of towers or walls of proof;
Fire over Glastonbury roof
And out on Ely; fire。

And Guthrum heard the soldiers' tale
And bade the stranger play;
Not harshly; but as one on high;
On a marble pillar in the sky;
Who sees all folk that live and die
Pigmy and far away。

And Alfred; King of Wessex;
Looked on his conqueror
And his hands hardened; but he played;
And leaving all later hates unsaid;
He sang of some old British raid
On the wild west march of yore。

He sang of war in the warm wet shires;
Where rain nor fruitage fails;
Where England of the motley states
Deepens like a garden to the gates
In the purple walls of Wales。

He sang of the seas of savage heads
And the seas and seas of spears;
Boiling all over Offa's Dyke;
What time a Wessex club could strike
The kings of the mountaineers。

Till Harold laughed and snatched the harp;
The kinsman of the King;
A big youth; beardless like a child;
Whom the new wine of war sent wild;
Smote; and began to sing

And he cried of the ships as eagles
That circle fiercely and fly;
And sweep the seas and strike the towns
From Cyprus round to Skye。

How swiftly and with peril
They gather all good things;
The high horns of the forest beasts;
Or the secret stones of kings。

〃For Rome was given to rule the world;
And gat of it little joy
But we; but we shall enjoy the world;
The whole huge world a toy。

〃Great wine like blood from Burgundy;
Cloaks like the clouds from Tyre;
And marble like solid moonlight;
And gold like frozen fire。

〃Smells that a man might swill in a cup;
Stones that a man might eat;
And the great smooth women like ivory
That the Turks sell in the street。〃

He sang the song of the thief of the world;
And the gods that love the thief;
And he yelled aloud at the cloister…yards;
Where men go gathering grief。

〃Well have you sung; O stranger;
Of death on the dyke in Wales;
Your chief was a bracelet…giver;
But the red unbroken river
Of a race runs not for ever;
But suddenly it fails。

〃Doubtless your sires were sword…swingers
When they waded fresh from foam;
Before they were turned to women
By the god of the nails from Rome;

〃But since you bent to the shaven men;
Who neither lust nor smite;
Thunder of Thor; we hunt you
A hare on the mountain height。〃

King Guthrum smiled a little;
And said; 〃It is enough;
Nephew; let Elf retune the string;
A boy must needs like bellowing;
But the old ears of a careful king
Are glad of songs less rough。〃

Blue…eyed was Elf the minstrel;
With womanish hair and ring;
Yet heavy was his hand on sword;
Though light upon the string。

And as he stirred the strings of the harp
To notes but four or five;
The heart of each man moved in him
Like a babe buried alive。

And they felt the land of the folk…songs
Spread southward of the Dane;
And they heard the good Rhine flowing
In the heart of all Allemagne。

They felt the land of the folk…songs;
Where the gifts hang on the tree;
Where the girls give ale at morning
And the tears come easily。

The mighty people; womanlike;
That have pleasure in their pain
As he sang of Balder beautiful;
Whom the heavens loved in vain。

As he sang of Balder beautiful;
Whom the heavens could not save;
Til

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