an anthology of australian verse-第23节
按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！
As we glide to the grand old sea
But the song of my heart is for none to hear
If one of them waves for me。
A roving； roaming life is mine；
Ever by field or flood
For not far back in my father's line
Was a dash of the Gipsy blood。
Flax and tussock and fern；
Gum and mulga and sand；
Reef and palm but my fancies turn
Ever away from land；
Strange wild cities in ancient state；
Range and river and tree；
Snow and ice。 But my star of fate
Is ever across the sea。
A god…like ride on a thundering sea；
When all but the stars are blind
A desperate race from Eternity
With a gale…and…a…half behind。
A jovial spree in the cabin at night；
A song on the rolling deck；
A lark ashore with the ships in sight；
Till a wreck goes down with a wreck。
A smoke and a yarn on the deck by day；
When life is a waking dream；
And care and trouble so far away
That out of your life they seem。
A roving spirit in sympathy；
Who has travelled the whole world o'er
My heart forgets； in a week at sea；
The trouble of years on shore。
A rolling stone！ 'tis a saw for slaves
Philosophy false as old
Wear out or break 'neath the feet of knaves；
Or rot in your bed of mould！
But I'D rather trust to the darkest skies
And the wildest seas that roar；
Or die； where the stars of Nations rise；
In the stormy clouds of war。
Cleave to your country； home； and friends；
Die in a sordid strife
You can count your friends on your finger ends
In the critical hours of life。
Sacrifice all for the family's sake；
Bow to their selfish rule！
Slave till your big soft heart they break
The heart of the family fool。
Domestic quarrels； and family spite；
And your Native Land may be
Controlled by custom； but； come what might；
The rest of the world for me。
I'd sail with money； or sail without！
If your love be forced from home；
And you dare enough； and your heart be stout；
The world is your own to roam。
I've never a love that can sting my pride；
Nor a friend to prove untrue；
For I leave my love ere the turning tide；
And my friends are all too new。
The curse of the Powers on a peace like ours；
With its greed and its treachery
A stranger's hand； and a stranger land；
And the rest of the world for me！
But why be bitter？ The world is cold
To one with a frozen heart；
New friends are often so like the old；
They seem of the past a part
As a better part of the past appears；
When enemies； parted long；
Are come together in kinder years；
With their better nature strong。
I had a friend； ere my first ship sailed；
A friend that I never deserved
For the selfish strain in my blood prevailed
As soon as my turn was served。
And the memory haunts my heart with shame
Or； rather； the pride that's there；
In different guises； but soul the same；
I meet him everywhere。
I had a chum。 When the times were tight
We starved in Australian scrubs；
We froze together in parks at night；
And laughed together in pubs。
And I often hear a laugh like his
From a sense of humour keen；
And catch a glimpse in a passing phiz
Of his broad； good…humoured grin。
And I had a love 'twas a love to prize
But I never went back again 。 。 。
I have seen the light of her kind brown eyes
In many a face since then。
。 。 。 。 。
The sailors say 'twill be rough to…night；
As they fasten the hatches down；
The south is black； and the bar is white；
And the drifting smoke is brown。
The gold has gone from the western haze；
The sea…birds circle and swarm
But we shall have plenty of sunny days；
And little enough of storm。
The hill is hiding the short black pier；
As the last white signal's seen；
The points run in； and the houses veer；
And the great bluff stands between。
So darkness swallows each far white speck
On many a wharf and quay。
The night comes down on a restless deck；
Grim cliffs and The Open Sea！
The Sliprails and the Spur
The colours of the setting sun
Withdrew across the Western land
He raised the sliprails； one by one；
And shot them home with trembling hand；
Her brown hands clung her face grew pale
Ah！ quivering chin and eyes that brim！
One quick； fierce kiss across the rail；
And； 〃Good…bye； Mary！〃 〃Good…bye； Jim！〃
~Oh； he rides hard to race the pain
Who rides from love； who rides from home；
But he rides slowly home again；
Whose heart has learnt to love and roam。~
A hand upon the horse's mane；
And one foot in the stirrup set；
And； stooping back to kiss again；
With 〃Good…bye； Mary！ don't you fret！
When I come back〃 he laughed for her
〃We do not know how soon 'twill be；
I'll whistle as I round the spur
You let the sliprails down for me。〃
She gasped for sudden loss of hope；
As； with a backward wave to her；
He cantered down the grassy slope
And swiftly round the dark'ning spur。
Black…pencilled panels standing high；
And darkness fading into stars；
And blurring fast against the sky；
A faint white form beside the bars。
And often at the set of sun；
In winter bleak and summer brown；
She'd steal across the little run；
And shyly let the sliprails down。
And listen there when darkness shut
The nearer spur in silence deep；
And when they called her from the hut
Steal home and cry herself to sleep。
。 。 。 。 。
~And he rides hard to dull the pain
Who rides from one that loves him best；
And he rides slowly back again；
Whose restless heart must rove for rest。~
Arthur Albert Dawson Bayldon。
Sunset
The weary wind is slumbering on the wing：
Leaping from out meek twilight's purpling blue
Burns the proud star of eve as though it knew
It was the big king jewel quivering
On the black turban of advancing night。
In the dim west the soldiers of the sun
Strike all their royal colours one by one；
Reluctantly surrender every height。
The Sea
Ere Greece soared； showering sovranties of light；
Ere Rome shook earth with her tremendous tread；
Ere yon blue…feasting sun…god burst blood…red；
Beneath thee slept thy prodigy； O Night！
Aeons have ta'en like dreams their strange； slow flight；
And vastest； tiniest； creatures paved her bed；
E'en cities sapped by the usurping spread
Of her imperious waves have sunk from sight
Since she first chanted her colossal psalms
That swell and sink beneath the listening stars；
Oft； as with myriad drums beating to arms；
She thunders out the grandeur of her wars；
Then shifts through moaning moods her wizard charms
Of slow flutes and caressing； gay guitars。
To Poesy
These vessels of verse； O Great Goddess； are filled with invisible tears；
With the sobs and sweat of my spirit and her desolate brooding for years；
See； I lay them not on thine altar； for they are unpolished and plain；
Not rounded enough by the potter； too much burnt in the furnace of pain；
But here in the dust； in the shadow； with a sudden wild leap of the heart
I kneel to tenderly kiss them； then in silence arise to depart。
I linger awhile at the portal with the light of the crimsoning sun
On my wreathless brow bearing the badges of battles I've fought in not won。
At the sound of the trumpet I've ever been found in thy thin fighting line；
And the weapons I've secretly sharpened have flashed in defence of thy shrine。
I've recked not of failure and losses； nor shrunk from the soilure of strife
For thy magical glamour was on me and art is the moonlight of life。
I move from the threshold； Great Goddess； with steps meditative and slow；
Night steals like a dream to the landscape and slips like a pall
o'er its glow。
I carry no lamp in my bosom and dwindling in gloom is the track；
No token of man's recognition to prompt me to ever turn back。
I strike eastward to meet the great day…dawn with the soul of my soul
by my side；
My goal though unknown is assured me； and the planet of Love is my guide。
Jennings Carmichael。
An Old Bush Road
Dear old road； wheel…worn and broken；
Winding thro' the forest green；
Barred with shadow and with sunshine；
Misty vistas drawn between。
Grim； scarred bluegums ranged austerely；
Lifting blackened columns each
To the large； fair fields of azure；
Stretching ever out of reach。
See the hardy bracken growing
Round the fallen limbs of trees；
And the sharp reeds from the marshes；
Washed across the flooded leas；
And the olive rushes； leaning
All their pointed spears to cast
Slender shadows on the roadway；
While the faint； slow wind creeps past。
Ancient ruts grown round with grasses；
Soft old hollows filled with rain；
Rough； gnarled roots all twisting queerly；
Dark with many a weather…sta
