the complete poetical works-第74节
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Than come again to a wedding to which he had not been invited。
Meanwhile the bridegroom went forth and stood with the bride at
the doorway；
Breathing the perfumed air of that warm and beautiful morning。
Touched with autumnal tints； but lonely and sad in the sunshine；
Lay extended before them the land of toil and privation；
There were the graves of the dead； and the barren waste of the
sea…shore；
There the familiar fields； the groves of pine； and the meadows；
But to their eyes transfigured； it seemed as the Garden of Eden；
Filled with the presence of God； whose voice was the sound of the
ocean。
Soon was their vision disturbed by the noise and stir of
departure；
Friends coming forth from the house； and impatient of longer
delaying；
Each with his plan for the day； and the work that was left
uncompleted。
Then from a stall near at hand； amid exclamations of wonder；
Alden the thoughtful； the careful； so happy； so proud of
Priscilla；
Brought out his snow…white steer； obeying the hand of its master；
Led by a cord that was tied to an iron ring in its nostrils；
Covered with crimson cloth； and a cushion placed for a saddle。
She should not walk； he said； through the dust and heat of the
noonday；
Nay； she should ride like a queen； not plod along like a peasant。
Somewhat alarmed at first； but reassured by the others；
Placing her hand on the cushion； her foot in the hand of her
husband；
Gayly； with joyous laugh； Priscilla mounted her palfrey。
〃Nothing is wanting now；〃 he said with a smile； 〃but the distaff；
Then you would be in truth my queen； my beautiful Bertha！〃
Onward the bridal procession now moved to their new habitation；
Happy husband and wife； and friends conversing together。
Pleasantly murmured the brook； as they crossed the ford in the
forest；
Pleased with the image that passed； like a dream of love through
its bosom；
Tremulous； floating in air； o'er the depths of the azure abysses。
Down through the golden leaves the sun was pouring his splendors；
Gleaming on purple grapes； that； from branches above them
suspended；
Mingled their odorous breath with the balm of the pine and the
fir…tree；
Wild and sweet as the clusters that grew in the valley of Eshcol。
Like a picture it seemed of the primitive； pastoral ages；
Fresh with the youth of the world； and recalling Rebecca and
Isaac；
Old and yet ever new； and simple and beautiful always；
Love immortal and young in the endless succession of lovers；
So through the Plymouth woods passed onward the bridal
procession。
**************
BIRDS OF PASSAGE。
FLIGHT THE FIRST
。 。 come i gru van cantando lor lai；
Facendo in aer di se lunga riga。 DANTE
BIRDS OF PASSAGE
Black shadows fall
From the lindens tall；
That lift aloft their massive wall
Against the southern sky；
And from the realms
Of the shadowy elms
A tide…like darkness overwhelms
The fields that round us lie。
But the night is fair；
And everywhere
A warm； soft vapor fills the air；
And distant sounds seem near；
And above； in the light
Of the star…lit night；
Swift birds of passage wing their flight
Through the dewy atmosphere。
I hear the beat
Of their pinions fleet；
As from the land of snow and sleet
They seek a southern lea。
I hear the cry
Of their voices high
Falling dreamily through the sky；
But their forms I cannot see。
O； say not so！
Those sounds that flow
In murmurs of delight and woe
Come not from wings of birds。
They are the throngs
Of the poet's songs；
Murmurs of pleasures； and pains； and wrongs；
The sound of winged words。
This is the cry
Of souls； that high
On toiling； beating pinions； fly；
Seeking a warmer clime；
From their distant flight
Through realms of light
It falls into our world of night；
With the murmuring sound of rhyme。
PROMETHEUS
OR THE POET'S FORETHOUGHT
Of Prometheus； how undaunted
On Olympus' shining bastions
His audacious foot he planted；
Myths are told and songs are chanted；
Full of promptings and suggestions。
Beautiful is the tradition
Of that flight through heavenly portals；
The old classic superstition
Of the theft and the transmission
Of the fire of the Immortals！
First the deed of noble daring；
Born of heavenward aspiration；
Then the fire with mortals sharing；
Then the vulture；the despairing
Cry of pain on crags Caucasian。
All is but a symbol painted
Of the Poet； Prophet； Seer；
Only those are crowned and sainted
Who with grief have been acquainted；
Making nations nobler； freer。
In their feverish exultations；
In their triumph and their yearning；
In their passionate pulsations；
In their words among the nations；
The Promethean fire is burning。
Shall it； then； be unavailing；
All this toil for human culture？
Through the cloud…rack； dark and trailing；
Must they see above them sailing
O'er life's barren crags the vulture？
Such a fate as this was Dante's；
By defeat and exile maddened；
Thus were Milton and Cervantes；
Nature's priests and Corybantes；
By affliction touched and saddened。
But the glories so transcendent
That around their memories cluster；
And； on all their steps attendant；
Make their darkened lives resplendent
With such gleams of inward lustre！
All the melodies mysterious；
Through the dreary darkness chanted；
Thoughts in attitudes imperious；
Voices soft； and deep； and serious；
Words that whispered； songs that haunted！
All the soul in rapt suspension；
All the quivering； palpitating
Chords of life in utmost tension；
With the fervor of invention；
With the rapture of creating！
Ah； Prometheus！ heaven…scaling！
In such hours of exultation
Even the faintest heart； unquailing；
Might behold the vulture sailing
Round the cloudy crags Caucasian！
Though to all there is not given
Strength for such sublime endeavor；
Thus to scale the walls of heaven；
And to leaven with fiery leaven
All the hearts of men for ever；
Yet all bards； whose hearts unblighted
Honor and believe the presage；
Hold aloft their torches lighted；
Gleaming through the realms benighted；
As they onward bear the message！
EPIMETHEUS
OR THE POET'S AFTERTHOUGHT
Have I dreamed？ or was it real；
What I saw as in a vision；
When to marches hymeneal
In the land of the Ideal
Moved my thought o'er Fields Elysian？
What！ are these the guests whose glances
Seemed like sunshine gleaming round me？
These the wild； bewildering fancies；
That with dithyrambic dances
As with magic circles bound me？
Ah！ how cold are their caresses！
Pallid cheeks； and haggard bosoms！
Spectral gleam their snow…white dresses；
And from loose dishevelled tresses
Fall the hyacinthine blossoms！
O my songs！ whose winsome measures
Filled my heart with secret rapture！
Children of my golden leisures！
Must even your delights and pleasures
Fade and perish with the capture？
Fair they seemed； those songs sonorous；
When they came to me unbidden；
Voices single； and in chorus；
Like the wild birds singing o'er us
In the dark of branches hidden。
Disenchantment！ Disillusion！
Must each noble aspiration
Come at last to this conclusion；
Jarring discord； wild confusion；
Lassitude； renunciation？
Not with steeper fall nor faster；
From the sun's serene dominions；
Not through brighter realms nor vaster；
In swift ruin and disaster；
Icarus fell with shattered pinions！
Sweet Pandora！ dear Pandora！
Why did mighty Jove create thee
Coy as Thetis； fair as Flora；
Beautiful as young Aurora；
If to win thee is to hate thee？
No； not hate thee！ for this feeling
Of unrest and long resistance
Is but passionate appealing；
A prophetic whisper stealing
O'er the chords of our existence。
Him whom thou dost once enamour；
Thou； beloved； never leavest；
In life's discord； strife； and clamor；
Still he feels thy spell of glamour；
Him of Hope thou ne'er bereavest。
Weary hearts by thee are lifted；
Struggling souls by thee are strengthened；
Clouds of fear asunder rifted；
Truth from falsehood cleansed and sifted；
Lives； like days in summer； lengthened！
Therefore art thou ever clearer；
O my Sibyl； my deceiver！
For thou makest each mystery clearer；
And the unattained seems nearer；
When thou fillest my heart with fever！
Muse of all the Gifts and Graces！
Though the fields around us wither；
There are ampler realms and spaces；
Where no foot has left its traces：
Let us turn and wander thither！
THE LADDER OF ST。 AUGUSTINE
Saint Augustine！ well hast thou said；
That of our vices we can frame
A ladder； if we will but tread
