第 123 节
作者:空白协议书      更新:2021-02-21 16:30      字数:9322
  Where the pomp of camp and court?
  Where the pilgrims with their prayers?
  Where the merchants with their wares;
  And their gallant brigantines
  Sailing safely into port
  Chased by corsair Algerines?
  Vanished like a fleet of cloud;
  Like a passing trumpet…blast;
  Are those splendors of the past;
  And the commerce and the crowd!
  Fathoms deep beneath the seas
  Lie the ancient wharves and quays;
  Swallowed by the engulfing waves;
  Silent streets and vacant halls;
  Ruined roofs and towers and walls;
  Hidden from all mortal eyes
  Deep the sunken city lies:
  Even cities have their graves!
  This is an enchanted land!
  Round the headlands far away
  Sweeps the blue Salernian bay
  With its sickle of white sand:
  Further still and furthermost
  On the dim discovered coast
  Paestum with its ruins lies;
  And its roses all in bloom
  Seem to tinge the fatal skies
  Of that lonely land of doom。
  On his terrace; high in air;
  Nothing doth the good monk care
  For such worldly themes as these;
  From the garden just below
  Little puffs of perfume blow;
  And a sound is in his ears
  Of the murmur of the bees
  In the shining chestnut…trees;
  Nothing else he heeds or hears。
  All the landscape seems to swoon
  In the happy afternoon;
  Slowly o'er his senses creep
  The encroaching waves of sleep;
  And he sinks as sank the town;
  Unresisting; fathoms down;
  Into caverns cool and deep!
  Walled about with drifts of snow;
  Hearing the fierce north…wind blow;
  Seeing all the landscape white;
  And the river cased in ice;
  Comes this memory of delight;
  Comes this vision unto me
  Of a long…lost Paradise
  In the land beyond the sea。
  THE SERMON OF ST。 FRANCIS
  Up soared the lark into the air;
  A shaft of song; a winged prayer;
  As if a soul; released from pain;
  Were flying back to heaven again。
  St。 Francis heard; it was to him
  An emblem of the Seraphim;
  The upward motion of the fire;
  The light; the heat; the heart's desire。
  Around Assisi's convent gate
  The birds; God's poor who cannot wait;
  From moor and mere and darksome wood
  Came flocking for their dole of food。
  〃O brother birds;〃 St。 Francis said;
  〃Ye come to me and ask for bread;
  But not with bread alone to…day
  Shall ye be fed and sent away。
  〃Ye shall be fed; ye happy birds;
  With manna of celestial words;
  Not mine; though mine they seem to be;
  Not mine; though they be spoken through me。
  〃O; doubly are ye bound to praise
  The great Creator in your lays;
  He giveth you your plumes of down;
  Your crimson hoods; your cloaks of brown。
  〃He giveth you your wings to fly
  And breathe a purer air on high;
  And careth for you everywhere;
  Who for yourselves so little care!〃
  With flutter of swift wings and songs
  Together rose the feathered throngs;
  And singing scattered far apart;
  Deep peace was in St。 Francis' heart。
  He knew not if the brotherhood
  His homily had understood;
  He only knew that to one ear
  The meaning of his words was clear。
  BELISARIUS
  I am poor and old and blind;
  The sun burns me; and the wind
  Blows through the city gate
  And covers me with dust
  From the wheels of the august
  Justinian the Great。
  It was for him I chased
  The Persians o'er wild and waste;
  As General of the East;
  Night after night I lay
  In their camps of yesterday;
  Their forage was my feast。
  For him; with sails of red;
  And torches at mast…head;
  Piloting the great fleet;
  I swept the Afric coasts
  And scattered the Vandal hosts;
  Like dust in a windy street。
  For him I won again
  The Ausonian realm and reign;
  Rome and Parthenope;
  And all the land was mine
  From the summits of Apennine
  To the shores of either sea。
  For him; in my feeble age;
  I dared the battle's rage;
  To save Byzantium's state;
  When the tents of Zabergan;
  Like snow…drifts overran
  The road to the Golden Gate。
  And for this; for this; behold!
  Infirm and blind and old;
  With gray; uncovered head;
  Beneath the very arch
  Of my triumphal march;
  I stand and beg my bread!
  Methinks I still can hear;
  Sounding distinct and near;
  The Vandal monarch's cry;
  As; captive and disgraced;
  With majestic step he paced;
  〃All; all is Vanity!〃
  Ah! vainest of all things
  Is the gratitude of kings;
  The plaudits of the crowd
  Are but the clatter of feet
  At midnight in the street;
  Hollow and restless and loud。
  But the bitterest disgrace
  Is to see forever the face
  Of the Monk of Ephesus!
  The unconquerable will
  This; too; can bear;I still
  Am Belisarius!
  SONGO RIVER
  Nowhere such a devious stream;
  Save in fancy or in dream;
  Winding slow through bush and brake
  Links together lake and lake。
  Walled with woods or sandy shelf;
  Ever doubling on itself
  Flows the stream; so still and slow
  That it hardly seems to flow。
  Never errant knight of old;
  Lost in woodland or on wold;
  Such a winding path pursued
  Through the sylvan solitude。
  Never school…boy in his quest
  After hazel…nut or nest;
  Through the forest in and out
  Wandered loitering thus about。
  In the mirror of its tide
  Tangled thickets on each side
  Hang inverted; and between
  Floating cloud or sky serene。
  Swift or swallow on the wing
  Seems the only living thing;
  Or the loon; that laughs and flies
  Down to those reflected skies。
  Silent stream! thy Indian name
  Unfamiliar is to fame;
  For thou hidest here alone;
  Well content to be unknown。
  But thy tranquil waters teach
  Wisdom deep as human speech;
  Moving without haste or noise
  In unbroken equipoise。
  Though thou turnest no busy mill;
  And art ever calm and still;
  Even thy silence seems to say
  To the traveller on his way:
  〃Traveller; hurrying from the heat
  Of the city; stay thy feet!
  Rest awhile; nor longer waste
  Life with inconsiderate haste!
  〃Be not like a stream that brawls
  Loud with shallow waterfalls;
  But in quiet self…control
  Link together soul and soul〃
  ************
  KERAMOS
  Turn; turn; my wheel?  Turn round and round
  Without a pause; without a sound:
  So spins the flying world away!
  This clay; well mixed with marl and sand;
  Follows the motion of my hand;
  Far some must follow; and some command;
  Though all are made of clay!
  Thus sang the Potter at his task
  Beneath the blossoming hawthorn…tree;
  While o'er his features; like a mask;
  The quilted sunshine and leaf…shade
  Moved; as the boughs above him swayed;
  And clothed him; till he seemed to be
  A figure woven in tapestry;
  So sumptuously was he arrayed
  In that magnificent attire
  Of sable tissue flaked with fire。
  Like a magician he appeared;
  A conjurer without book or beard;
  And while he plied his magic art
  For it was magical to me
  I stood in silence and apart;
  And wondered more and more to see
  That shapeless; lifeless mass of clay
  Rise up to meet the master's hand;
  And now contract and now expand;
  And even his slightest touch obey;
  While ever in a thoughtful mood
  He sang his ditty; and at times
  Whistled a tune between the rhymes;
  As a melodious interlude。
  Turn; turn; my wheel!  All things must change
  To something new; to something strange;
  Nothing that is can pause or stay;
  The moon will wax; the moon will wane;
  The mist and cloud will turn to rain;
  The rain to mist and cloud again;
  To…morrow be to…day。
  Thus still the Potter sang; and still;
  By some unconscious act of will;
  The melody and even the words
  Were intermingled with my thought
  As bits of colored thread are caught
  And woven into nests of birds。
  And thus to regions far remote;
  Beyond the ocean's vast expanse;
  This wizard in the motley coat
  Transported me on wings of song;
  And by the northern shores of France
  Bore me with restless speed along。
  What land is this that seems to be
  A mingling of the land and sea?
  This land of sluices; dikes; and dunes?
  This water…net; that tessellates
  The landscape? this unending maze
  Of gardens; through whose latticed gates
  The imprisoned pinks and tulips gaze;
  Where in long summer afternoons
  The sunshine; softened by the haze;
  Comes streaming down as through a screen;
  Where over fields and pastures green
  The painted ships float high in air;
  And over all and everywhere
  The sails of windmills sink and soar
  Like wings of sea…gulls on the shore?
  What land is this? Yon pretty town
  Is Delft; with all its wares displayed;
  The pride; the market…place; the crown
  And centre of the Potter's trade。
  See! every house and room is bright
  With glimmers of reflected light
  From plates that on the dresser shine;
  Flagons to foam with Flemish beer;
  Or sparkle with the Rhenish wine;
  And pilgrim flasks with fleurs…de…lis;
  And ships upo