第 15 节
作者:老是不进球      更新:2021-02-19 17:49      字数:9322
  How linked in Life and Death are they
  The Shamrock and the Cross。
  The gravestones face the Golden East;
  And in the morn they take
  The blessing of the Great High Priest;
  Before the living wake。
  Who was she?  Never ask her name;
  Her beauty and her grace
  Have passed; with her poor little shame;
  Into the Silent Place。
  In Avonaise; in Avonaise;
  Where all is dead and done;
  The folk who rest there all their days
  Care not for moon or sun。
  They care not; when the living pass;
  Whether they sigh or smile;
  They hear above their graves the grass
  That sighs  〃A little while!〃
  A white stone marks her small green bed
  With 〃Anna〃 and 〃Adieu〃。
  Madonna Mary; rest her head
  On your dear lap of blue!
  The Night Ride
  The red sun on the lonely lands
  Gazed; under clouds of rose;
  As one who under knitted hands
  Takes one last look and goes。
  Then Pain; with her white sister Fear;
  Crept nearer to my bed:
  〃The sands are running; dost thou hear
  Thy sobbing heart?〃 she said。
  There came a rider to the gate;
  And stern and clear spake he:
  〃For meat or drink thou must not wait;
  But rise and ride with me。〃
  I waited not for meat or drink;
  Or kiss; or farewell kind
  But oh! my heart was sore to think
  Of friends I left behind。
  We rode o'er hills that seemed to sweep
  Skyward like swelling waves;
  The living stirred not in their sleep;
  The dead slept in their graves。
  And ever as we rode I heard
  A moan of anguish sore
  No voice of man or beast or bird;
  But all of these and more。
  〃Is it the moaning of the Earth?
  Dark Rider; answer me!〃
  〃It is the cry of life at birth〃
  He answered quietly:
  〃But thou canst turn a face of cheer
  To good days still in store;
  Thou needst not care for Pain or Fear
  They cannot harm thee more。〃
  Yet I rode on with sullen heart;
  And said with breaking breath;
  〃If thou art he I think thou art;
  Then slay me now; O Death!〃
  The veil was from my eyesight drawn
  〃Thou knowest now;〃 said he:
  〃I am the Angel of the Dawn!
  Ride back; and wait for me。〃
  So I rode back at morning light;
  And there; beside my bed;
  Fear had become a lily white
  And Pain a rose of red。
  Alice Werner。
  Bannerman of the Dandenong
  I rode through the Bush in the burning noon;
  Over the hills to my bride;
  The track was rough and the way was long;
  And Bannerman of the Dandenong;
  He rode along by my side。
  A day's march off my Beautiful dwelt;
  By the Murray streams in the West;
  Lightly lilting a gay love…song
  Rode Bannerman of the Dandenong;
  With a blood…red rose on his breast。
  〃Red; red rose of the Western streams〃
  Was the song he sang that day
  Truest comrade in hour of need;
  Bay Mathinna his peerless steed
  I had my own good grey。
  There fell a spark on the upland grass
  The dry Bush leapt into flame;
  And I felt my heart go cold as death;
  And Bannerman smiled and caught his breath;
  But I heard him name Her name。
  Down the hill…side the fire…floods rushed;
  On the roaring eastern wind;
  Neck and neck was the reckless race;
  Ever the bay mare kept her pace;
  But the grey horse dropped behind。
  He turned in the saddle  〃Let's change; I say!〃
  And his bridle rein he drew。
  He sprang to the ground;  〃Look sharp!〃 he said
  With a backward toss of his curly head
  〃I ride lighter than you!〃
  Down and up  it was quickly done
  No words to waste that day!
  Swift as a swallow she sped along;
  The good bay mare from Dandenong;
  And Bannerman rode the grey。
  The hot air scorched like a furnace blast
  From the very mouth of Hell:
  The blue gums caught and blazed on high
  Like flaming pillars into the sky; 。 。 。
  The grey horse staggered and fell。
  〃Ride; ride; lad;  ride for her sake!〃 he cried;
  Into the gulf of flame
  Were swept; in less than a breathing space
  The laughing eyes; and the comely face;
  And the lips that named HER name。
  She bore me bravely; the good bay mare;
  Stunned; and dizzy and blind;
  I heard the sound of a mingling roar
  'Twas the Lachlan River that rushed before;
  And the flames that rolled behind。
  Safe  safe; at Nammoora gate;
  I fell; and lay like a stone。
  O love! thine arms were about me then;
  Thy warm tears called me to life again;
  But  O God! that I came alone!
  We dwell in peace; my beautiful one
  And I; by the streams in the West;
  But oft through the mist of my dreams along
  Rides Bannerman of the Dandenong;
  With the blood…red rose on his breast。
  Ethel Castilla。
  An Australian Girl
  〃She's pretty to walk with;
  And witty to talk with;
  And pleasant; too; to think on。〃
  Sir John Suckling。
  She has a beauty of her own;
  A beauty of a paler tone
  Than English belles;
  Yet southern sun and southern air
  Have kissed her cheeks; until they wear
  The dainty tints that oft appear
  On rosy shells。
  Her frank; clear eyes bespeak a mind
  Old…world traditions fail to bind。
  She is not shy
  Or bold; but simply self…possessed;
  Her independence adds a zest
  Unto her speech; her piquant jest;
  Her quaint reply。
  O'er classic volumes she will pore
  With joy; and true scholastic lore
  Will often gain。
  In sports she bears away the bell;
  Nor; under music's siren spell;
  To dance divinely; flirt as well;
  Does she disdain。
  A Song of Sydney
  (1894)
  High headlands all jealously hide thee;
  O fairest of sea…girdled towns!
  Thine Ocean…spouse smileth beside thee;
  While each headland threatens and frowns。
  Like Venice; upheld on sea…pinion;
  And fated to reign o'er the free;
  Thou wearest; in sign of dominion;
  The zone of the sea。
  No winter thy fertile slope hardens;
  O new Florence; set in the South!
  All lands give their flowers to thy gardens;
  That glow to thy bright harbour's mouth;
  The waratah and England's red roses
  With stately magnolias entwine;
  Gay sunflowers fill sea…scented closes;
  All sweet with woodbine。
  Thy harbour's fair flower…crowned islands
  See flags of all countries unfurled;
  Thou smilest from green; sunlit highlands
  To open thine arms to the world!
  Dark East's and fair West's emulations
  Resound from each hill…shadowed quay;
  And over the songs of all nations;
  The voice of the sea。
  Francis William Lauderdale Adams。
  Something
  It is something in this darker dream demented
  to have wrestled with its pleasure and its pain:
  it is something to have sinned; and have repented:
  it is something to have failed; and tried again!
  It is something to have loved the brightest Beauty
  with no hope of aught but silence for your vow:
  it is something to have tried to do your duty:
  it is something to be trying; trying now!
  And; in the silent solemn hours;
  when your soul floats down the far faint flood of time
  to think of Earth's lovers who are ours;
  of her saviours saving; suffering; sublime:
  And that you with THESE may be her lover;
  with THESE may save and suffer for her sake
  IT IS JOY TO HAVE LIVED; SO TO DISCOVER
  YOU'VE A LIFE YOU CAN GIVE AND SHE CAN TAKE!
  Gordon's Grave
  All the heat and the glow and the hush
  of the summer afternoon;
  the scent of the sweet…briar bush
  over bowing grass…blades and broom;
  the birds that flit and pass;
  singing the song he knows;
  the grass…hopper in the grass;
  the voice of the she…oak boughs。
  Ah; and the shattered column
  crowned with the poet's wreath。
  Who; who keeps silent and solemn
  his passing place beneath?
  ~This was a poet that loved God's breath;
  his life was a passionate quest;
  he looked down deep in the wells of death;
  and now he is taking his rest。~
  To A。 L。 Gordon
  In night…long days; in aeons
  where all Time's nights are one;
  where life and death sing paeans
  as of Greeks and Galileans;
  never begun or done;
  where fate; the slow swooping condor;
  comes glooming all the sky
  as you have pondered I ponder;
  as you have wandered I wander;
  as you have died; shall I die?
  Love and Death
  Death? is it death you give?  So be it!  O Death;
  thou hast been long my friend; and now thy pale
  cool cheek shall have my kiss; while the faint breath
  expires on thy still lips; O lovely Death!
  Come then; loose hands; fair Life; without a wail!
  We've had good hours together; and you were sweet
  what time love whispered with the nightingale;
  tho' ever your music by the lark's would fail。
  Come then; loose hands!  Our lover time is done。
  Now is the marriage with the eternal sun。
  The hours ar