songs of travel-第2节
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XII … WE HAVE LOVED OF YORE （To an air of Diabelli）
BERRIED brake and reedy island；
Heaven below； and only heaven above；
Through the sky's inverted azure
Softly swam the boat that bore our love。
Bright were your eyes as the day；
Bright ran the stream；
Bright hung the sky above。
Days of April； airs of Eden；
How the glory died through golden hours；
And the shining moon arising；
How the boat drew homeward filled with flowers！
Bright were your eyes in the night：
We have lived； my love …
O； we have loved； my love。
Frost has bound our flowing river；
Snow has whitened all our island brake；
And beside the winter fagot
Joan and Darby doze and dream and wake。
Still； in the river of dreams
Swims the boat of love …
Hark！ chimes the falling oar！
And again in winter evens
When on firelight dreaming fancy feeds；
In those ears of aged lovers
Love's own river warbles in the reeds。
Love still the past； O my love！
We have lived of yore；
O； we have loved of yore。
XIII … MATER TRIUMPHANS
SON of my woman's body； you go； to the drum and fife；
To taste the colour of love and the other side of life …
From out of the dainty the rude； the strong from out of the frail；
Eternally through the ages from the female comes the male。
The ten fingers and toes； and the shell…like nail on each；
The eyes blind as gems and the tongue attempting speech；
Impotent hands in my bosom； and yet they shall wield the sword！
Drugged with slumber and milk； you wait the day of the Lord。
Infant bridegroom； uncrowned king； unanointed priest；
Soldier； lover； explorer； I see you nuzzle the breast。
You that grope in my bosom shall load the ladies with rings；
You； that came forth through the doors； shall burst the doors of kings。
XIV
BRIGHT is the ring of words
When the right man rings them；
Fair the fall of songs
When the singer sings them。
Still they are carolled and said …
On wings they are carried …
After the singer is dead
And the maker buried。
Low as the singer lies
In the field of heather；
Songs of his fashion bring
The swains together。
And when the west is red
With the sunset embers；
The lover lingers and sings
And the maid remembers。
XV
IN the highlands； in the country places；
Where the old plain men have rosy faces；
And the young fair maidens
Quiet eyes；
Where essential silence cheers and blesses；
And for ever in the hill…recesses
Her more lovely music
Broods and dies。
O to mount again where erst I haunted；
Where the old red hills are bird…enchanted；
And the low green meadows
Bright with sward；
And when even dies； the million…tinted；
And the night has come； and planets glinted；
Lo； the valley hollow
Lamp…bestarred！
O to dream； O to awake and wander
There； and with delight to take and render；
Through the trance of silence；
Quiet breath；
Lo！ for there； among the flowers and grasses；
Only the mightier movement sounds and passes；
Only winds and rivers；
Life and death。
XVI （To the tune of Wandering Willie）
HOME no more home to me； whither must I wander？
Hunger my driver； I go where I must。
Cold blows the winter wind over hill and heather；
Thick drives the rain； and my roof is in the dust。
Loved of wise men was the shade of my roof…tree。
The true word of welcome was spoken in the door …
Dear days of old； with the faces in the firelight；
Kind folks of old； you come again no more。
Home was home then； my dear； full of kindly faces；
Home was home then； my dear； happy for the child。
Fire and the windows bright glittered on the moorland；
Song； tuneful song； built a palace in the wild。
Now； when day dawns on the brow of the moorland；
Lone stands the house； and the chimney…stone is cold。
Lone let it stand； now the friends are all departed；
The kind hearts； the true hearts； that loved the place of old。
Spring shall come； come again； calling up the moorfowl；
Spring shall bring the sun and rain； bring the bees and
flowers；
Red shall the heather bloom over hill and valley；
Soft flow the stream through the even…flowing hours；
Fair the day shine as it shone on my childhood …
Fair shine the day on the house with open door；
Birds come and cry there and twitter in the chimney …
But I go for ever and come again no more。
XVII … WINTER
IN rigorous hours； when down the iron lane
The redbreast looks in vain
For hips and haws；
Lo； shining flowers upon my window…pane
The silver pencil of the winter draws。
When all the snowy hill
And the bare woods are still；
When snipes are silent in the frozen bogs；
And all the garden garth is whelmed in mire；
Lo； by the hearth； the laughter of the logs …
More fair than roses； lo； the flowers of fire！
Saranac Lake。
XVIII
THE stormy evening closes now in vain；
Loud wails the wind and beats the driving rain；
While here in sheltered house
With fire…ypainted walls；
I hear the wind abroad；
I hark the calling squalls …
'Blow； blow；' I cry； 'you burst your cheeks in vain！
Blow； blow；' I cry； 'my love is home again！'
Yon ship you chase perchance but yesternight
Bore still the precious freight of my delight；
That here in sheltered house
With fire…ypainted walls；
Now hears the wind abroad；
Now harks the calling squalls。
'Blow； blow；' I cry； 'in vain you rouse the sea；
My rescued sailor shares the fire with me！'
XIX … TO DR。 HAKE （On receiving a Copy of Verses）
IN the beloved hour that ushers day；
In the pure dew； under the breaking grey；
One bird； ere yet the woodland quires awake；
With brief reveille summons all the brake：
Chirp； chirp； it goes； nor waits an answer long；
And that small signal fills the grove with song。
Thus on my pipe I breathed a strain or two；
It scarce was music； but 'twas all I knew。
It was not music； for I lacked the art；
Yet what but frozen music filled my heart？
Chirp； chirp； I went； nor hoped a nobler strain；
But Heaven decreed I should not pipe in vain；
For； lo！ not far from there； in secret dale；
All silent； sat an ancient nightingale。
My sparrow notes he heard； thereat awoke；
And with a tide of song his silence broke。
XX … TO …
I KNEW thee strong and quiet like the hills；
I knew thee apt to pity； brave to endure；
In peace or war a Roman full equipt；
And just I knew thee； like the fabled kings
Who by the loud sea…shore gave judgment forth；
From dawn to eve； bearded and few of words。
What； what； was I to honour thee？ A child；
A youth in ardour but a child in strength；
Who after virtue's golden chariot…wheels
Runs ever panting； nor attains the goal。
So thought I； and was sorrowful at heart。
Since then my steps have visited that flood
Along whose shore the numerous footfalls cease；
The voices and the tears of life expire。
Thither the prints go down； the hero's way
Trod large upon the sand； the trembling maid's：
Nimrod that wound his trumpet in the wood；
And the poor； dreaming child； hunter of flowers；
That here his hunting closes with the great：
So one and all go down； nor aught returns。
For thee； for us； the sacred river waits；
For me； the unworthy； thee； the perfect friend；
There Blame desists； there his unfaltering dogs
He from the chase recalls； and homeward rides；
Yet Praise and Love pass over and go in。
So when； beside that margin； I discard
My more than mortal weakness； and with thee
Through that still land unfearing I advance：
If then at all we keep the touch of joy
Thou shalt rejoice to find me altered … I；
O Felix； to behold thee still unchanged。
XXI
THE morning drum…call on my eager ear
Thrills unforgotten yet； the morning dew
Lies yet undried along my field of noon。
But now I pause at whiles in what I do；
And count the bell； and tremble lest I hear
（My work untrimmed） the sunset gun too soon。
XXII
I HAVE trod the upward and the downward slope；
I have endured and done in days before；
I have longed for all； and bid farewell to hope；
And I have lived and loved； and closed the door。
XXIII
HE hears with gladdened heart the thunder
Peal； and loves the falling dew；
He knows the earth above and under …
Sits and is content to view。
He sits beside the dying ember；
God for hope and man for friend；
Content to see； glad to remember；
Expectant of the certain end。
XXIV
FAREWELL； fair day and fading light！
The clay…born here； with westward sight；
Marks the huge sun now downward soar。
Farewell。 We twain shall meet no more。
Farewell。 I watch with bursting sigh
My late contemned occasion die。
I linger useless in my tent：
Farewell； fair day； so foully spent！
Farewell； fair day。 If any God
At all consider this poor clod；
He who the fai
