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第13节

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That she was the wicked onehe the good。



THE TELEGRAM



〃O he's sufferingmaybe dyingand I not there to aid;
And smooth his bed and whisper to him!  Can I nohow go?
Only the nurse's brief twelve words thus hurriedly conveyed;
   As by stealth; to let me know。

〃He was the best and brightest!candour shone upon his brow;
And I shall never meet again a soldier such as he;
And I loved him ere I knew it; and perhaps he's sinking now;
   Far; far removed from me!〃

… The yachts ride mute at anchor and the fulling moon is fair;
And the giddy folk are strutting up and down the smooth parade;
And in her wild distraction she seems not to be aware
   That she lives no more a maid;

But has vowed and wived herself to one who blessed the ground she
trod
To and from his scene of ministry; and thought her history known
In its last particular to himaye; almost as to God;
   And believed her quite his own。

So great her absentmindedness she droops as in a swoon;
And a movement of aversion mars her recent spousal grace;
And in silence we two sit here in our waning honeymoon
   At this idle watering…place 。 。 。

What now I see before me is a long lane overhung
With lovelessness; and stretching from the present to the grave。
And I would I were away from this; with friends I knew when young;
   Ere a woman held me slave。



THE MOTH…SIGNAL
(On Egdon Heath)



〃What are you still; still thinking;〃
   He asked in vague surmise;
〃That stare at the wick unblinking
   With those great lost luminous eyes?〃

〃O; I see a poor moth burning
   In the candle…flame;〃 said she;
Its wings and legs are turning
   To a cinder rapidly。〃

〃Moths fly in from the heather;〃
   He said; 〃now the days decline。〃
〃I know;〃 said she。  〃The weather;
   I hope; will at last be fine。

〃I think;〃 she added lightly;
   〃I'll look out at the door。
The ring the moon wears nightly
   May be visible now no more。〃

She rose; and; little heeding;
   Her husband then went on
With his attentive reading
   In the annals of ages gone。

Outside the house a figure
   Came from the tumulus near;
And speedily waxed bigger;
   And clasped and called her Dear。

〃I saw the pale…winged token
   You sent through the crack;〃 sighed she。
〃That moth is burnt and broken
   With which you lured out me。

〃And were I as the moth is
   It might be better far
For one whose marriage troth is
   Shattered as potsherds are!〃

Then grinned the Ancient Briton
   From the tumulus treed with pine:
〃So; hearts are thwartly smitten
   In these days as in mine!〃



SEEN BY THE WAITS



Through snowy woods and shady
   We went to play a tune
To the lonely manor…lady
   By the light of the Christmas moon。

We violed till; upward glancing
   To where a mirror leaned;
We saw her airily dancing;
   Deeming her movements screened;

Dancing alone in the room there;
   Thin…draped in her robe of night;
Her postures; glassed in the gloom there;
   Were a strange phantasmal sight。

She had learnt (we heard when homing)
   That her roving spouse was dead;
Why she had danced in the gloaming
   We thought; but never said。



THE TWO SOLDIERS



Just at the corner of the wall
   We metyes; he and I …
Who had not faced in camp or hall
   Since we bade home good…bye;
And what once happened came backall …
   Out of those years gone by。

And that strange woman whom we knew
   And lovedlong dead and gone;
Whose poor half…perished residue;
   Tombless and trod; lay yon!
But at this moment to our view
   Rose like a phantom wan。

And in his fixed face I could see;
   Lit by a lurid shine;
The drama re…enact which she
   Had dyed incarnadine
For us; and more。  And doubtless he
   Beheld it too in mine。

A start; as at one slightly known;
   And with an indifferent air
We passed; without a sign being shown
   That; as it real were;
A memory…acted scene had thrown
   Its tragic shadow there。



THE DEATH OF REGRET



I opened my shutter at sunrise;
   And looked at the hill hard by;
And I heartily grieved for the comrade
   Who wandered up there to die。

I let in the morn on the morrow;
   And failed not to think of him then;
As he trod up that rise in the twilight;
   And never came down again。

I undid the shutter a week thence;
   But not until after I'd turned
Did I call back his last departure
   By the upland there discerned。

Uncovering the casement long later;
   I bent to my toil till the gray;
When I said to myself; 〃Ahwhat ails me;
   To forget him all the day!〃

As daily I flung back the shutter
   In the same blank bald routine;
He scarcely once rose to remembrance
   Through a month of my facing the scene。

And ah; seldom now do I ponder
   At the window as heretofore
On the long valued one who died yonder;
   And wastes by the sycamore。



IN THE DAYS OF CRINOLINE



A plain tilt…bonnet on her head
She took the path across the leaze。
… Her spouse the vicar; gardening; said;
〃Too dowdy that; for coquetries;
   So I can hoe at ease。

But when she had passed into the heath;
And gained the wood beyond the flat;
She raised her skirts; and from beneath
Unpinned and drew as from a sheath
   An ostrich…feathered hat。

And where the hat had hung she now
Concealed and pinned the dowdy hood;
And set the hat upon her brow;
And thus emerging from the wood
   Tripped on in jaunty mood。

The sun was low and crimson…faced
As two came that way from the town;
And plunged into the wood untraced 。 。 。
When separately therefrom they paced
   The sun had quite gone down。

The hat and feather disappeared;
The dowdy hood again was donned;
And in the gloom the fair one neared
Her home and husband dour; who conned
   Calmly his blue…eyed blonde。

〃To…day;〃 he said; 〃you have shown good sense;
A dress so modest and so meek
Should always deck your goings hence
Alone。〃  And as a recompense
   He kissed her on the cheek。



THE ROMAN GRAVEMOUNDS



By Rome's dim relics there walks a man;
Eyes bent; and he carries a basket and spade;
I guess what impels him to scrape and scan;
Yea; his dreams of that Empire long decayed。

〃Vast was Rome;〃 he must muse; 〃in the world's regard;
Vast it looms there still; vast it ever will be;〃
And he stoops as to dig and unmine some shard
Left by those who are held in such memory。

But no; in his basket; see; he has brought
A little white furred thing; stiff of limb;
Whose life never won from the world a thought;
It is this; and not Rome; that is moving him。

And to make it a grave he has come to the spot;
And he delves in the ancient dead's long home;
Their fames; their achievements; the man knows not;
The furred thing is all to himnothing Rome!

〃Here say you that Caesar's warriors lie? …
But my little white cat was my only friend!
Could she but live; might the record die
Of Caesar; his legions; his aims; his end!〃

Well; Rome's long rule here is oft and again
A theme for the sages of history;
And the small furred life was worth no one's pen;
Yet its mourner's mood has a charm for me。

November 1910。



THE WORKBOX



〃See; here's the workbox; little wife;
   That I made of polished oak。〃
He was a joiner; of village life;
   She came of borough folk。

He holds the present up to her
As with a smile she nears
And answers to the profferer;
〃'Twill last all my sewing years!〃

〃I warrant it will。  And longer too。
'Tis a scantling that I got
Off poor John Wayward's coffin; who
Died of they knew not what。

〃The shingled pattern that seems to cease
Against your box's rim
Continues right on in the piece
That's underground with him。

〃And while I worked it made me think
Of timber's varied doom;
One inch where people eat and drink;
The next inch in a tomb。

〃But why do you look so white; my dear;
And turn aside your face?
You knew not that good lad; I fear;
Though he came from your native place?〃

〃How could I know that good young man;
Though he came from my native town;
When he must have left there earlier than
I was a woman grown?〃

〃Ah no。  I should have understood!
It shocked you that I gave
To you one end of a piece of wood
Whose other is in a grave?〃

〃Don't; dear; despise my intellect;
Mere accidental things
Of that sort never have effect
On my imaginings。〃

Yet still her lips were limp and wan;
Her face still held aside;
As if she had known not only John;
But known of what he died。



THE SACRILEGE
A BALLAD…TRAGEDY
(Circa 182…)



PART I

〃I have a Love I love too well
Where Dunkery frowns on Exon Moor;
I have a Love I love too well;
   To whom; ere she was mine;
'Such is my love for you;' I said;
'That you shall have to hood your head
A silken kerchief crimson…red;
   Wove finest of the fine。'

〃And since this Love; for one mad moon;
On Exon Wild by Dunkery Tor;
Since this my Love for one mad moon
   Did clasp me as her king;
I snatched a silk…piece red and rare
From off a stall at Priddy Fair;
For handkerchief to hood her hair
   When we went gallanting。

〃Full soon the four weeks neared their end
Where Dunkery frowns on Exon Moor;
And when the four weeks neared their end;
   And thei

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