the flower of the mind(脑之花)-第9节
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have written The Ancient Mariner with Coleridge〃and perhaps the most
beautiful passage in the poem；〃 adds one critic after another。 It is no more
than a good likeness； and has nothing whatever of the indescribable
Coleridge quality。
Coleridge reveals； throughout this poem； an exaltation of the senses；
which is the most poetical thing that can befall a simple poet。 It is
necessary only to refer； for sight； to the stanza on 〃the moving Moon〃 at
the bottom of page 267； for hearing； to the supernatural stanzas on page
271； and； for touch； to the line …
〃And still my body drank。〃
ROSE AYLMER
Never was a human name more exquisitely sung than in these perfect
stanzas。
THE ISLES OF GREECE
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One really fine and poetic stanzaof course； the third； three stanzas
that are good eloquencethe fourth； fifth； and seventh； and one that is a
fair bit of argumentthe tenthmay together perhaps carry the rest。
HELLAS
The profounder spirit of Shelley's poem yet leaves it a careless piece
of work in comparison with Byron's。 The two false rhymes at the outset
may not be of great importance； but there is something annoying in the
dissyllabic rhymes of the second stanza。 Dissyllabic rhymes are beautiful
and enriching when they fall in the right place； that is； where there is a
pause for the second little syllable to stand。 For example； they could not be
better placed than they would have been at the end of the shorter lines of
this same stanza； where they would have dropped into a part of the pause。
Another sin of sheer heedlessnessthe lapse of grammar in The Skylark；
at the top of page 296 （With thy clear keen joyance） will remind the
reader of the special habitual error of Drummond of Hawthornden。
THE WANING MOON
In these few lines the Shelley spirit seems to be more intense than in
any other passage as brief。
ODE TO THE WEST WIND
This magnificent poem is surely the greatest of a great poses writings；
and one of the most splendid poems on nature and on poetry in a literature
resounding with odes on these enormous themes。
THE INVITATION
No need to point to a poem that so shines as does this lucent verse。
LA BELLE DAME SANS MERCI
Keats is here the magical poet； as he is the intellectual poet in the
great sonnet following； and it is his possession or promise of both
imaginations that proves him greater than Coleridge。 In his day they seem
to have found Coleridge to be a thinker in his poetry。 To me he seems to
have had nothing but senses； magic； and simplicity； and these he had to the
utmost yet known to man。 Keats was to have been a great intellectual poet；
besides all that in fact he was。
ODE TO A NIGHTINGALE
Of the five odes of Keats； the Nightingale is perhaps the most perfect；
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and certainly the most imaginative。 But the Grecian Urn is the finest； even
though it has fancy rather than imagination； for never was fancy more
exquisite。 The most conspicuous ideathe emptying of the town because
its folk are away at play in the tale of the antique urnis merely a fancy；
and a most antic fancya prank； it is an irony of man； a rallying of art； a
mockery of time； a burlesque of poetry； divine with tenderness。 The six
lines in which this fancy sports are amongst the loveliest in all literature：
the 〃little town；〃 the 〃peaceful citadel；〃were ever simple adjectives more
happy？ But John Keats's final moral here is undeniably a failure； it says so
much and means so little。 The Ode to Autumn is an exterior ode； and not
in so high a rank； but lovely and perfect。 The Psyche I love the least；
because its fancy is rather weak and its sentiment effusive。 It has a touch
of the deadly sickliness of Endymion。 None the less does it remain just
within the group of the really fine odes of English poets。 The eloquent
Melancholy more narrowly escapes exclusion from that group。
End of Project Gutenberg Etext of Flower of the Mind； by Alice
Meynell More below。 。 。
LATER POEMS
Contents：
The Shepherdess 〃I am the Way〃 Via； et Veritas； et Vita Why wilt
Thou Chide？ The Lady Poverty The Fold Cradle…song at Twilight The
Roaring Frost Parentage The Modern Mother West Wind in Winter
November Blue Chimes Unto us a Son is given A Dead Harvest The Two
Poets A Poet's Wife Veneration of Images At Night
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THE SHEPHERDESS
She walksthe lady of my delight … A shepherdess of sheep。 Her flocks
are thoughts。 She keeps them white； She guards them from the steep。 She
feeds them on the fragrant height； And folds them in for sleep。
She roams maternal hills and bright； Dark valleys safe and deep。 Into
that tender breast at night The chastest stars may peep。 She walksthe
lady of my delight … A shepherdess of sheep。
She holds her little thoughts in sight； Though gay they run and leap。
She is so circumspect and right； She has her soul to keep。 She walksthe
lady of my delight … A shepherdess of sheep。
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〃I AM THE WAY〃
Thou art the Way。 Hadst Thou been nothing but the goal； I cannot say
If Thou hadst ever met my soul。
I cannot see … I； child of processif there lies An end for me； Full of
repose； full of replies。
I'll not reproach The way that goes； my feet that stir。 Access； approach；
Art Thou； time； way； and wayfarer。
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VIA； ET VERITAS； ET VITA
〃You never attained to Him？〃 〃If to attain Be to abide； then that may
be。〃 〃Endless the way； followed with how much pain！〃 〃The way was He。〃
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〃WHY WILT THOU CHIDE？〃
Why wilt thou chide； Who hast attained to be denied？ Oh learn； above
All price is my refusal； Love。 My sacred Nay Was never cheapened by the
way。 Thy single sorrow crowns thee lord Of an unpurchasable word。
Oh strong； Oh pure！ As Yea makes happier loves secure； I vow thee
this Unique rejection of a kiss。 I guard for thee This jealous sad monopoly。
I seal this honour thine。 None dare Hope for a part in thy despair。
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THE LADY POVERTY
The Lady Poverty was fair： But she has lost her looks of late； With
change of times and change of air。 Ah slattern； she neglects her hair； Her
gown； her shoes。 She keeps no state As once when her pure feet were bare。
Oralmost worse； if worse can be … She scolds in parlours； dusts and
trims； Watches and counts。 Oh； is this she Whom Francis met； whose step
was free； Who with Obedience carolled hymns； In Umbria walked with
Chastity？
Where is her ladyhood？ Not here； Not among modern kinds of men；
But in the stony fields； where clear Through the thin trees the skies appear；
In delicate spare soil and fen； And slender landscape and austere。
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THE FOLD
BEHOLD； The time is now！ Bring back； bring back Thy flocks of
fancies； wild of whim。 Oh lead them from the mountain…track … Thy frolic
thoughts untold。 Oh bring them inthe fields grow dim … And let me be the
fold。
Behold； The time is now！ Call in； O call Thy posturing kisses gone
astray For scattered sweets。 Gather them all To shelter from the cold。
Throng them together； close and gay； And let me be the fold！
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