第 10 节
作者:翱翔1981      更新:2021-04-30 15:55      字数:9321
  For a night…hunt up the valley; with our brothers and the hound!
  Through a wild…eyed Forest; staring at the light above it glaring;
  We will travel; little caring for the dangers where we bound。
  Twisted boughs shall tremble o'er us; hollow woods shall moan before us;
  And the torrents like a chorus down the gorges dark shall sing;
  And the vines shall shake and shiver; and the startled grasses quiver;
  Like the reeds beside a river in the gusty days of Spring;
  While we forward haste delighted; through a region seldom lighted …
  Souls impatient; hearts excited … like a wind upon the wing!
  Oh! the solemn tones of Ocean; like the language of devotion;
  Or a voice of deep emotion; wander round the evening scene。
  Oh! the ragged shadows cluster where; my brothers; we must muster
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  Ere the warm moon lends her lustre to the cedars darkly green;
  And the lights like flowers shall blossom; in high Heaven's kindly bosom;
  While we hunt the wild opossum; underneath its leafy screen;
  Underneath the woven bowers; where the gloomy night…hawk cowers;
  Through a lapse of dreamy hours; in a stirless solitude!
  And the hound … that close beside us still will stay whate'er betide us …
  Through a 'wildering waste shall guide us …
  through a maze where few intrude;
  Till the game is chased to cover; till the stirring sport is over;
  Till we bound; each happy rover; homeward down the laughing wood。
  Oh; the joy in wandering thither; when fond friends are all together
  And our souls are like the weather … cloudless; clear and fresh and free!
  Let the sailor sing the story of the ancient ocean's glory;
  Forests golden; mountains hoary … can he look and love like we?
  Sordid worldling; haunt thy city with that heart so hard and gritty!
  There are those who turn with pity when they turn to think of thee!
  IN THE DEPTHS OF THE FOREST
  IN the depths of a Forest secluded and wild;
  The night voices whisper in passionate numbers;
  And I'm leaning again; as I did when a child;
  O'er the grave where my father so quietly slumbers。
  The years have rolled by with a thundering sound
  But I knew; O ye woodlands; affection would know it;
  And the spot which I stand on is sanctified ground
  By the love that I bear to him sleeping below it。
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  Oh! well may the winds with a saddening moan
  Go fitfully over the branches so dreary;
  And well may I kneel by the time…shattered stone;
  And rejoice that a rest has been found for the weary。
  TO CHARLES HARPUR
  I WOULD sit at your feet for long days;
  To hear the sweet Muse of the Wild
  Speak out through the sad and the passionate lays
  Of her first and her favourite Child。
  I would sit at your feet; for my soul
  Delights in the solitudes free;
  And I stand where the creeks and the cataracts roll
  Whensoever I listen to thee!
  I would sit at your feet; for I love
  By the gulches and torrents to roam;
  And I long in this city for woodland and grove;
  And the peace of a wild forest home。
  I would sit at your feet; and we'd dwell
  On the scenes of a long…vanished time;
  While your thoughts into music would surge and would swell
  Like a breeze of our beautiful clime。
  I would sit at your feet; for I know;
  Though the World in the Present be blind;
  That the amaranth blossoms of Promise will blow
  When the Ages have left you behind。
  I would sit at your feet; for I feel
  I am one of a glorious band
  That ever will own you and hold you their Chief;
  And a Monarch of Song in the land!
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  THE RIVER AND THE HILL
  And they shook their sweetness out in their sleep;
  On the brink of that beautiful stream;
  But it wandered along with a wearisome song
  Like a lover that walks in a dream:
  So the roses blew
  When the winds went through;
  In the moonlight so white and so still;
  But the river it beat
  All night at the feet
  Of a cold and flinty hill …
  Of a hard and senseless hill!
  I said; ‘‘We have often showered our loves
  Upon something as dry as the dust;
  And the faith that is crost; and the hearts that are lost …
  Oh! how can we wittingly trust?
  Like the stream which flows;
  And wails as it goes;
  Through the moonlight so white and so still;
  To beat and to beat
  All night at the feet
  Of a cold and flinty hill …
  Of a hard and senseless hill?
  ‘‘River; I stay where the sweet roses blow;
  And drink of their pleasant perfumes!
  Oh; why do you moan; in this wide world alone;
  When so much affection here blooms?
  The winds wax faint;
  And the Moon like a Saint
  Glides over the woodlands so white and so still!
  But you beat and you beat
  All night at the feet
  Of that cold and flinty hill …
  Of that hard and senseless hill!''
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  THE FATE OF THE EXPLORERS
  (A Fragment)
  SET your face toward the darkness … tell of deserts weird and wide;
  Where unshaken woods are huddled; and low; languid waters glide;
  Turn and tell of deserts lonely; lying pathless; deep and vast;
  Where in utter silence ever Time seems slowly breathing past …
  Silence only broken when the sun is flecked with cloudy bars;
  Or when tropic squalls come hurtling underneath the sultry stars!
  Deserts thorny; hot and thirsty; where the feet of men are strange;
  And eternal Nature sleeps in solitudes which know no change。
  Weakened with their lengthened labours; past long plains of stone and sand;
  Down those trackless wilds they wandered; travellers from a far…off land;
  Seeking now to join their brothers; struggling on with faltering feet;
  For a glorious work was finished; and a noble task complete。
  And they dreamt of welcome faces … dreamt that soon unto their ears
  Friendly greetings would be thronging; with a nation's well…earned cheers;
  Since their courage never failed them; but with high; unflinching soul
  Each was pressing forward; hoping; trusting all should reach the goal。
  。
  。
  。
  。
  。
  Though he rallied in the morning; long before the close of day
  He had sunk; the worn…out hero; fainting; dying by the way!
  But with Death he wrestled hardly; three times rising from the sod;
  Yet a little further onward o'er the weary waste he trod。
  Facing Fate with heart undaunted; still the chief would totter on
  Till the evening closed about him … till the strength to move was gone;
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  Then he penned his latest writings; and; before his life was spent;
  Gave the records to his comrade … gave the watch he said was lent …
  Gave them with his last commandments; charging him that night to stay
  And to let him lie unburied when the soul had passed away。
  Through that night he uttered little; rambling were the words he spoke:
  And he turned and died in silence; when the tardy morning broke。
  Many memories come together whilst in sight of death we dwell;
  Much of sweet and sad reflection through the weary mind must well。
  As those long hours glided past him; till the east with light was fraught;
  Who may know the mournful secret … who can tell us what he thought?
  Very lone and very wretched was the brave man left behind;
  Wandering over leagues of waste…land; seeking; hoping help to find;
  Sleeping in deserted wurleys; fearful many nightfalls through
  Lest unfriendly hands should rob him of his hoard of wild nardoo。
  。
  。
  。
  。
  。
  Ere he reached their old encampment … ere the well…known spot was gained;
  Something nerved him … something whispered that his other chief remained。
  So he searched for food to give him; trusting they might both survive
  Till the aid so long expected from the cities should arrive;
  So he searched for food and took it to the gunyah where he found
  Silence broken by his footfalls … death and darkness on the ground。