第 2 节
作者:想聊      更新:2021-02-24 22:39      字数:9322
  sound; every sound By the law of its life to some silence is bound。
  Then here will we hide; idle here and abide; In the covert here; close
  by the waterside Here; where the   slim flattered reeds are aquiver With
  the exquisite hints of the reticent river;          Here; where the lips of this pool
  are the lips Of all pools; let us listen and question and wait;               Let us hark
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  to the whispers of love and of death; Let us hark to the lispings of life and
  of fate In this place where pale silences flower into sound Let us strive
  for   some   secret   of   all   the   profound   Deep   and   calm   Silence   that   meshes
  men 'round! There's as much of God hinted in one ripple's                         plashes…
  …     There's   as   much   of Truth glints   in   yon   dragon…             fly's   flight
  There's as much Purpose gleams where yonder                          trout flashes      As
  inany book else!could we read things                    aright。
  Then   nymph   of   mine   indolence;   here   let   us   hide;   Learn;   listen;   and
  question; idle here and abide Where the rushes and lilies lean low to the
  tide。
  〃THEY HAD NO POET 。 。 。〃
  〃Vain   was   the   chief's;  the sage's   pride!   They  had   no   poet   and   they
  died。〃POPE。
  By   Tigris;   or   the   streams   of   Ind;   Ere   Colchis   rose;   or   Babylon;
  Forgotten   empires   dreamed   and   sinned;          Setting   tall   towns   against   the
  dawn;
  Which; when the proud Sun smote upon;                   Flashed fire for fire and
  pride for pride; Their names were 。 。 。          Ask oblivion! 。 。 。       〃They had no
  poet; and they died。〃
  Queens;   dusk   of   hair   and   tawny…skinned;         That   loll   where   fellow
  leopards fawn 。 。 。 Their hearts are dust before the wind;                   Their loves;
  that shook the world; are wan!
  Passion is mighty 。 。 。 but; anon;          Strong Death has Romance for his
  bride; Their legends 。 。 。        Ask oblivion! 。 。 。         〃They had no poet; and
  they died。〃
  Heroes;     the  braggart    trumps     that  dinned       Their    futile  triumphs;
  monarch;   pawn;   Wild   tribesmen;   kingdoms   disciplined;             Passed   like   a
  whirlwind and were gone;
  They built with bronze and gold and brawn;                  The inner Vision still
  denied; Their conquests 。 。 。        Ask oblivion! 。 。 。       〃They had no poet; and
  they died。〃
  Dumb oracles; and priests withdrawn;               Was it but flesh they deified?
  Their gods were 。 。 。        Ask oblivion! 。 。 。        〃They had no poet; and they
  died。〃
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  NEW YORK
  SHE is hot to the sea that crouches beside;            Human and hot to the
  cool stars peering down;         My passionate city; my quivering town; And
  her   dark   blood;   tide   upon   purple   tide;   With   throbs   as   of   thunder   beats;
  With leaping rhythms and vast; is swirled Through the shaken lengths of
  her veined streets。。。     She pulses; the heart of a world!
  I have thrilled with her ecstasy; agony; woe Hath she a mood that I
  do not know? The winds of her music tumultuous have seized                        me
  and swayed me;         Have lifted; have swung me around             In their whorls
  as   of  cyclonic   sound;   Her   passions   have   torn   me  and   tossed  me   and
  brayed   me;   Drunken   and   tranced   and   dazzled   with   visions           and
  gleams;
  I have spun with her dervish priests;          I have searched to the souls
  of her hunted beasts          And found love sleeping there; I have soared on
  the wings of her flashing dreams;             I have sunk with her dull despair; I
  have sweat with her travails and cursed with                   her pains;     I have
  swelled with her foolish pride; I have raged through a thick red mist at one
  with her branded Cains;         With her broken Christs have died。
  O beautiful half…god city of visions and love!            O hideous half…brute
  city   of   hate!   O   wholly   human   and   baffled   and   passionate   town! The
  throes of thy burgeoning; stress of thy fight; Thy bitter; blind struggle to
  gain for   thy body  a           soul;     I   have known;  I   have felt;  and  been
  shaken            thereby!         Wakened and shaken and broken; For I hear
  in thy thunders terrific that throb             through thy rapid veins          The
  beat of the heart of a world。
  A HYMN
  (1914)
  CLOTHED on   with thunder   and   with steel            And   black   against the
  dawn The whirling armies clash and reel。 。 。 。          A wind; and they are gone
  Like mists withdrawn;         Like mists withdrawn!
  Like clouds   withdrawn; like  driven sands;          Earth's   body  vanisheth:
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  One   solid   thing   unconquered   stands;         The   ghost   that   humbles   death。
  All else is breath;       All else is breath!
  Man rose from out the stinging slime;             Half brute; and sought a soul;
  And up the starrier ways of time;            Half god; unto his goal;
  He still must climb;        He still must climb!
  What   though   worlds   stagger;   and   the   suns       Seem   shaken   in   their
  place;    Trust   thou   the   leaping   love   that   runs     Creative     over   space:
  Take heart of grace;         Take heart of grace!
  What     though    great  kingdoms      fall  on  death     Before     the   stabbing
  blade;    Their   brazen    might    was   only   breath;     Their     substance    but  a
  shade       Be not dismayed;         Be not dismayed!
  Man's   dream   which   conquered   brute   and   clod         Shall   fail   not;   but
  endure; Shall rise; though beaten to the sod;             Shall hold its vantage sure…
  …     As sure as God;        As sure as God!
  THE SINGER
  A   LITTLE   while;   with   love   and   youth;       He   wandered;   singing:
  He   felt   life's   pulses   hot   and   strong    Beat   all   his   rapid   veins   along;
  He   wrought   life's   rhythms   into   song:             He   laughed;   he   sang    the
  Dawn!           So close; so close to life he dwelt             That at rare times and
  rapt he felt         The fleshly barriers yield and melt;                  He trembled;
  looking on           Creation at her miracles;             His soul…sight pierced the
  earthly shells          And saw the spirit weave its spells;                 The veil of
  clay   withdrawn;   A  little   while;   with   love   and   youth;     He   wandered;
  singing!
  A little while; with age and death;          He wanders; dreaming;
  No more the thunder and the urge                  Of earth's full tides that
  storm the verge            Of heaven with their sweep and surge                      Shall
  lift; shall bear him on;            Where is the golden hope that led                 Him
  comrade with   the   mighty dead?               The   love that   aureoled   his head?
  The   glory   is   withdrawn!          How   shall   one   soar   with   broken   wings?
  The leagued might of futile things               Wars with the heart that dares and
  sings;            It is not always Dawn! A little while; with age and death;
  He wanders; dreaming。
  WORDS ARE NOT GUNS
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  Put by the sword (a dreamer saith);            The years of peace draw nigh!
  Already the millennial dawn           Makes red the eastern sky!
  Be   not   deceived。     It   comes   not   yet!   The   ancient    passions   keep
  Alive beneath their changing masks。            They are not dead。       They sleep。
  Surely peace comes。        As sure as Man          Rose from primeval slime。
  That was not yesterday。        There's still    A weary height to climb!
  And we can dwell too long with dreams                 And play too much with
  words; Forgetting our inheritance          Was bought and held with swords。
  But   Truth   (you   say)   makes   tyrants   quail    Beats   down   embattled
  Wrong? If truth be armed!         Be not deceived。        The strife is to the strong。
  Words   are   not   guns。    Words   are   not   ships。    And   ships   and   guns
  prevail。 Our liberties; that blood has gained;          Are guarded; o