第 5 节
作者:想聊      更新:2021-02-24 22:39      字数:9322
  shore! It is I that ye hear in the calling wind I have stared through the
  dark till my soul is blind!       O lover of mine; ye swore;          Lover of mine;
  ye swore!
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  HUNTED
  Oh; why do they hunt so hard; so hard; who have                    no need of food?
  Do they  hunt for   sport;  do they  hunt for hate; do                they hunt   for   the
  lust of blood?
  。       。        。       。       。        。
  If I were a god I would get me a spear; I would                   get me horse and
  dog; And merrily; merrily I would ride through covert                     and brake and
  bog;
  With hound and horn and laughter loud; over the                    hills and away
  For there is no sport like that of a god with a               man that stands at bay!
  Ho!   but   the   morning   is   fresh   and   fair;   and   oh!     but   the   sun   is
  bright; And yonder the quarry breaks from the brush and                         heads for
  the hills in flight;
  A minute's law for the harried thingthen follow                  him; follow him
  fast; With the bellow of dogs and the beat of hoofs                     and the mellow
  bugle's blast。
  。       。        。       。       。        。
  Hillo!    Halloo!   they   have   marked   a   man!   there   is        sport   in   the
  world   to…day     And   a   clamor   swells    from   the   heart  of   the  wood    that
  tells of a soul at bay!
  A DREAM CHILD
  WHERE         tides  of   tossed    wistaria   bloom        Foam      up   in   purple
  turbulence; Where twining boughs have built a room                   And wing'd winds
  pause   to   garner   scents   And   scattered   sunlight   flecks   the   gloom;      She
  broods in pensive indolence。
  What is the thought that holds her thrall;              That dims her sight with
  unshed tears? What songs of sorrow droop and fall                  In broken music for
  her ears? What voices thrill her and recall              The poignant joy of happier
  years?
  She dreams 'tis not the winds which pass                That whisper through the
  shaken   vine;   Whose       footstep   stirs   the  rustling   grass    None   else    that
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  listened might divine; She sees her child that never was              Look up with
  longing in his eyne。
  Unkissed;   his   lifted   forehead   gains   A  grace   not   earthly;   but   more
  rare For  since her  heart but   only feigns;       Wherefore should   love  not
  feign him fair? Put blood of roses in his veins;          Weave yellow sunshines
  for his hair?
  All ghosts of little children dead         That wander wistful; uncaressed;
  Their seeking lips by love unfed;           She fain would cradle on her breast
  For his sweet sake whose lonely head           Has never known that tender rest。
  And   thus   she   sits;   and   thus   she   broods; Where   drifted   blossoms
  freak the grass; The winds that move across her moods                Pulse with low
  whispers as they pass; And in their eerier interludes            She hears a voice
  that never was。
  ACROSS THE NIGHT
  MUCH   listening   through   the   silences;       Much   staring   through   the
  night; And lo! the dumb blind distances             Are bridged with speech and
  sight!
  Magician   Thought;   informed   of   Love;       Hath   fixed   her   on   the   air
  Oh; Love and I laughed down the fates            And clasped her; here as there!
  Across the eerie silences        She came in headlong flight; She stormed
  the serried distances;      She trampled space and night!
  Oh; foolish scientists might give           This miracle a name But   Love
  and I care but to know        That when we called she came。
  And since   I   find   the distances    Subservient to   my  thought; And   of
  the sentient silences      More vital speech have wrought;
  Then she and I will mock Death's self;            For all his vaunted might
  There are no gulfs we dare not leap;         As she leapt through the night!
  EA CHANGES
  I MORNING
  WE stood among the boats and nets;              We saw the swift clouds fall;
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  We watched the schooners scamper in                 Before the sudden squall; The
  jolly   squall   strove   lustily    To   whelm   the   sheltered   street   The   merry
  squall    that   piled  the   seas   About    the  patient   headland's     knees      And
  chased the fishing fleet。
  She  laughed;   as   if   with   wings   her   mirth Arose   and   left   the   wingless
  earth      And   all tame   things   behind;   Rose like   a bird;  wild   with   delight
  Whose briny pinions flash in flight            Through storm and sun and wind。
  Her laughter sought those skies because               Their mood and hers were
  one; For she and I were drunk with love               And life and storm and sun!
  And while she laughed; the Sun himself               Leapt laughing through the
  rain And struck his harper hand along The ringing coast; and that wind…
  song       Whose      joy  is  mixed    with   pain   Forgot    the  undertone     of  grief
  And   joined   the   jocund   strain; And   over   every   hidden   reef   Whereon   the
  waves   broke   merrily   Rose   jets   and   sprays   of   melody        And   leapt   and
  laughed again。
  II MOONLIGHT
  We stood among the boats and nets 。 。 。              We marked the risen moon
  Walk swaying o'er the trembling seas              As one sways in a swoon;
  The little stars; the lonely stars;         Stole through the hollow sky; And
  every sucking eddy where The waves lapped wharf or rotten stair Moaned
  like   some   stricken   thing   hid   there   And   strangled   with   its   own   despair
  As the shuddering tide crept by。
  I   loved   her;   and   I  hated   her     Or    did   I  hate  myself    because;
  Bound by obscure; strong; silken laws; I felt myself the worshiper                       Of
  beauty  never   wholly   mine?   With   lures   most   apt   to   snare;   entwine;  With
  bonds too subtle to define; Her lighter nature mastered mine; Herself half
  given; half withheld; Her lesser spirit still compelled Its tribute from my
  franker   soul:      Sorebel;   slave;   and   worshiper!        I   loved   her   and   I
  hated her。
  I   gazed   upon   her;   I;   her   thrall; And   musing;   murmured;   What   if
  death
  Were     just  the   answer    to  it  all?    Suppose      some    dainty    dagger
  quaffed       Her life in one deep eager draught? Suppose some amorous
  knife caressed The lovely hollow of her breast?〃 She turned a mocking
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  look to mine: She read the thought within my eyne;                   She held me with
  her lookand laughed!
  Now who may tell what stirs; controls;             And shapes mad fancies into
  facts? What trivial things may quicken souls               To irrevocable; swift acts?
  Now     who    has   known;     who   understood;       Wherefore       some    idle  thing
  May   stab   with   deadlier   sting   Than   well…considered   insult   could?   May
  spur the languor of a mood And rouse a tiger in the blood?
  Ah; Christ!had she not laughed just when That fancy came! 。 。 。 for
  then 。 。 。 and then 。 。 。     A sudden mist dropped from the sky;
  A mist swept in across the sea 。 。 。 A mist that hid her face from me 。 。 。
  A   weeping      mist   all  tinged  with    red;  A   dripping   mist   that   smelt   like
  blood 。  。  。    It choked  my  throat; it   burnt   my brain   。  。 。 And   through it
  peered one sallow star;          And through it rang one shriek of pain 。 。 。 And
  when   it   passed   my   hands   were   red;      My   soul   was   dabbled   with   her
  blood;   And   when   it   passed   my   love   was   dead       And   tossed   upon   the
  troubled flood。
  III MOONSET
  But   see!   。   。   。   the   body   does   not   sink; It   rides   upon   the   tide   (A
  starbeam on the dagger's haft);           With staring eyes and wide 。 。 。 And now;
  up   from   the   darkling   sea;     Down      from   the   failing  moon;     Are   come