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grass of parnassus-第3章

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From all sweet art; and out of all old rhyme;

Thine eyes and lips are light and song to me;

The shadows of the beauty of all time;

In song or story are but shapes of thee;

Alas; the shadowy shapes! ah; sweet my dear;

Shall life or death bring all thy being near?







LOST IN HADES。







I dreamed that somewhere in the shadowy place;

Grief of farewell unspoken was forgot

In welcome; and regret remembered not;

And hopeless prayer accomplished turned to praise

On lips that had been songless many days;

Hope had no more to hope for; and desire

And dread were overpast; in white attire

New born we walked among the new world's ways。



Then from the press of shades a spirit threw

Towards me such apples as these gardens bear;

And turning; I was 'ware of her; and knew

And followed her fleet voice and flying hair; …

Followed; and found her not; and seeking you

I found you never; dearest; anywhere。







A STAR IN THE NIGHT。







The perfect piteous beauty of thy face

Is like a star the dawning drives away;

Mine eyes may never see in the bright day

Thy pallid halo; thy supernal grace;

But in the night from forth the silent place

Thou comest; dim in dreams; as doth a stray

Star of the starry flock that in the grey

Is seen; and lost; and seen a moment's space。



And as the earth at night turns to a star;

Loved long ago; and dearer than the sun;

So in the spiritual place afar;

At night our souls are mingled and made one;

And wait till one night fall; and one dawn rise;

That brings no noon too splendid for your eyes。







A SUNSET ON YARROW。







The wind and the day had lived together;

They died together; and far away

Spoke farewell in the sultry weather;

Out of the sunset; over the heather;

The dying wind and the dying day。



Far in the south; the summer levin

Flushed; a flame in the grey soft air:

We seemed to look on the hills of heaven;

You saw within; but to me 'twas given

To see your face; as an angel's; there。



Never again; ah surely never

Shall we wait and watch; where of old we stood;

The low good…night of the hill and the river;

The faint light fade; and the wan stars quiver;

Twain grown one in the solitude。







ANOTHER WAY。







Come to me in my dreams; and then;

One saith; I shall be well again;

For then the night will more than pay

The hopeless longing of the day。



Nay; come not THOU in dreams; my sweet;

With shadowy robes; and silent feet;

And with the voice; and with the eyes

That greet me in a soft surprise。



Last night; last night; in dreams we met;

And how; to…day; shall I forget;

Or how; remembering; restrain

Mine incommunicable pain?



Nay; where thy land and people are;

Dwell thou remote; apart; afar;

Nor mingle with the shapes that sweep

The melancholy ways of Sleep。



But if; perchance; the shadows break;

If dreams depart; and men awake;

If face to face at length we see;

Be thine the voice to welcome me。









HESPEROTHEN









By the example of certain Grecian mariners; who; being safely

returned from the war about Troy; leave yet again their old lands

and gods; seeking they know not what; and choosing neither to abide

in the fair Phaeacian island; nor to dwell and die with the Sirens;

at length end miserably in a desert country by the sea; is set

forth the VANITY OF MELANCHOLY。  And by the land of Phaeacia is to

be understood the place of Art and of fair Pleasures; and by

Circe's Isle; the place of bodily delights; whereof men; falling

aweary; attain to Eld; and to the darkness of that age。  Which

thing Master Francoys Rabelais feigned; under the similitude of the

Isle of the Macraeones。







THE SEEKERS FOR PHAEACIA。







There is a land in the remotest day;

Where the soft night is born; and sunset dies;

The eastern shore sees faint tides fade away;

That wash the lands where laughter; tears; and sighs

Make life; … the lands below the blue of common skies。



But in the west is a mysterious sea;

(What sails have seen it; or what shipmen known?)

With coasts enchanted where the Sirens be;

With islands where a Goddess walks alone;

And in the cedar trees the magic winds make moan。



Eastward the human cares of house and home;

Cities; and ships; and unknown gods; and loves;

Westward; strange maidens fairer than the foam;

And lawless lives of men; and haunted groves;

Wherein a god may dwell; and where the Dryad roves。



The gods are careless of the days and death

Of toilsome men; beyond the western seas;

The gods are heedless of their painful breath;

And love them not; for they are not as these;

But in the golden west they live and lie at ease。



Yet the Phaeacians well they love; who live

At the light's limit; passing careless hours;

Most like the gods; and they have gifts to give;

Even wine; and fountains musical; and flowers;

And song; and if they will; swift ships; and magic powers。



It is a quiet midland; in the cool

Of the twilight comes the god; though no man prayed;

To watch the maids and young men beautiful

Dance; and they see him; and are not afraid;

For they are neat of kin to gods; and undismayed。



Ah; would the bright red prows might bring us nigh

The dreamy isles that the Immortals keep!

But with a mist they hide them wondrously;

And far the path and dim to where they sleep; …

The loved; the shadowy lands; along the shadowy deep。







A SONG OF PHAEACIA。







The languid sunset; mother of roses;

Lingers; a light on the magic seas;

The wide fire flames; as a flower uncloses;

Heavy with odour; and loose to the breeze。



The red rose clouds; without law or leader;

Gather and float in the airy plain;

The nightingale sings to the dewy cedar;

The cedar scatters his scent to the main。



The strange flowers' perfume turns to singing;

Heard afar over moonlit seas:

The Siren's song; grown faint in winging;

Falls in scent on the cedar trees。



As waifs blown out of the sunset; flying;

Purple; and rosy; and grey; the birds

Brighten the air with their wings; their crying

Wakens a moment the weary herds。



Butterflies flit from the fairy garden;

Living blossoms of flying flowers;

Never the nights with winter harden;

Nor moons wax keen in this land of ours。



Great fruits; fragrant; green and golden;

Gleam in the green; and droop and fall;

Blossom; and bud; and flower unfolden;

Swing; and cling to the garden wall。



Deep in the woods as twilight darkens;

Glades are red with the scented fire;

Far in the dells the white maid hearkens;

Song and sigh of the heart's desire。



Ah; and as moonlight fades in morning;

Maiden's song in the matin grey;

Faints as the first bird's note; a warning;

Wakes and wails to the new…born day。



The waking song and the dying measure

Meet; and the waxing and waning light

Meet; and faint with the hours of pleasure;

The rose of the sea and the sky is white。









THE DEPARTURE FROM PHAEACIA。









The Phaeacians。





Why from the dreamy meadows;

More fair than any dream;

Why seek ye for the shadows

Beyond the ocean stream?



Through straits of storm and peril;

Through firths unsailed before;

Why make you for the sterile;

The dark Kimmerian shore?



There no bright streams are flowing;

There day and night are one;

No harvest time; no sowing;

No sight of any sun;



No sound of song or tabor;

No dance shall greet you there;

No noise of mortal labour

Breaks on the blind chill air。



Are ours not happy places;

Where gods with mortals trod?

Saw not our sires the faces

Of many a present god?





The Seekers。





Nay; now no god comes hither;

In shape that men may see;

They fare we know not whither;

We know not what they be。



Yea; though the sunset lingers

Far in your fairy glades;

Though yours the sweetest singers;

Though yours the kindest maids;



Yet here be the true shadows;

Here in the doubtful light;

Amid the dreamy meadows

No shadow haunts the night。



We seek a city splendid;

With light beyond the sun;

Or lands where dreams are ended;

And works and days are done。







A BALLAD OF DEPARTURE。  (3)







Fair white bird; what song art thou singing

In wintry weather of lands o'er sea?

Dear white bird; what way art thou winging;

Where no grass grows; and no green tree?



I looked at the far…off fields and grey;

There grew no tree but the cypress tree;

That bears sad fruits with the flowers of May;

And whoso looks on it; woe is he。



And whoso eats of the fruit thereof

Has no more sorrow; and no more love;

And who sets the same in his garden stead;

In a little space he is waste and dead。







THEY HEAR THE SIRENS FOR THE SECOND TIME。







The weary sails a moment sl
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