the home book of verse-1-第83章
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My prayer would else fulfilment know …
Never have I seen Carcassonne!
〃You see the city from the hill;
It lies beyond the mountains blue;
And yet to reach it one must still
Five long and weary leagues pursue;
And; to return; as many more。
Had but the vintage plenteous grown …
But; ah! the grape withheld its store。
I shall not look on Carcassonne!
〃They tell me every day is there
Not more or less than Sunday gay;
In shining robes and garments fair
The people walk upon their way。
One gazes there on castle walls
As grand as those of Babylon;
A bishop and two generals!
What joy to dwell in Carcassonne!
〃The vicar's right: he says that we
Are ever wayward; weak; and blind;
He tells us in his homily
Ambition ruins all mankind;
Yet could I there two days have spent;
While still the autumn sweetly shone;
Ah; me! I might have died content
When I had looked on Carcassonne。
〃Thy pardon; Father; I beseech;
In this my prayer if I offend;
One something sees beyond his reach
From childhood to his journey's end。
My wife; our little boy; Aignan;
Have travelled even to Narbonne;
My grandchild has seen Perpignan;
And I … have not seen Carcassonne!〃
So crooned; one day; close by Limoux;
A peasant; double…bent with age。
〃Rise up; my friend;〃 said I; 〃with you
I'll go upon this pilgrimage。〃
We left; next morning; his abode;
But (Heaven forgive him!) half…way on
The old man died upon the road。
He never gazed on Carcassonne。
Translated by John R。 Thompson from the French of
Gustave Nadaud '1820… ? '
CHILDHOOD
Old Sorrow I shall meet again;
And Joy; perchance … but never; never;
Happy Childhood; shall we twain
See each other's face forever!
And yet I would not call thee back;
Dear Childhood; lest the sight of me;
Thine old companion; on the rack
Of Age; should sadden even thee。
John Banister Tabb '1845…1909'
THE WASTREL
Once; when I was little; as the summer night was falling;
Among the purple upland fields I lost my barefoot way;
The road to home was hidden fast; and frightful shadows; crawling
Along the sky…line; swallowed up the last kind light of day;
And then I seemed to hear you
In the twilight; and be near you;
Seemed to hear your dear voice calling …
Through the meadows; calling; calling …
And I followed and I found you;
Flung my tired arms around you;
And rested on the mother…breast; returned; tired out from play。
Down the days from that day; though I trod strange paths unheeding;
Though I chased the jack…o'…lanterns of so many maddened years;
Though I never looked behind me; where the home…lights were receding;
Though I never looked enough ahead to ken the Inn of Fears;
Still I knew your heart was near me;
That your ear was strained to hear me;
That your love would need no pleading
To forgive me; but was pleading
Of its self that; in disaster;
I should run to you the faster
And be sure that I was dearer for your sacrifice of tears。
Now on life's last Summertime the long last dusk is falling;
And I; who trod one way so long; can tread no other way
Until at death's dim crossroads I watch; hesitant; the crawling
Night…passages that maze me with the ultimate dismay。
Then when Death and Doubt shall blind me …
Even then … I know you'll find me:
I shall hear you; Mother; calling …
Hear you calling … calling … calling:
I shall fight and follow … find you
Though the grave…clothes swathe and bind you;
And I know your love will answer: 〃Here's my laddie home from play!〃
Reginald Wright Kauffman '1877…
TROIA FUIT
The world was wide when I was young;
My schoolday hills and dales among;
But; oh; it needs no Puck to put;
With whipping wing and flying foot;
A girdle 'round the narrow sphere
In which I labor now and here!
Life's face was fair when careless I
First loved beneath an April sky;
And wept those fine…imagined woes
That youth at nineteen thinks it knows;
Now love and woe both run so deep
I have not any time to weep。
No matter; though at last we see
That what was could not always be;
It girds our loins and steels our hands
In duller days and smaller lands
To recollect the country where
The world was wide and life was fair。
Reginald Wright Kauffman '1877…
TEMPLE GARLANDS
There is a temple in my heart
Where moth or rust can never come;
A temple swept and set apart;
To make my soul a home。
And round about the doors of it
Hang garlands that forever last;
That gathered once are always sweet;
The roses of the Past!
A。 Mary F。 Robinson '1857…
TIME LONG PAST
Like the ghost of a dear friend dead
Is Time long past。
A tone which is now forever fled;
A hope which is now forever past;
A love so sweet it could not last;
Was Time long past。
There were sweet dreams in the night
Of Time long past:
And; was it sadness or delight;
Each day a shadow onward cast
Which made us wish it yet might last; …
That Time long past。
There is regret; almost remorse;
For Time long past。
'Tis like a child's beloved corse
A father watches; till at last
Beauty is like remembrance; cast
From Time long past。
Percy Bysshe Shelley '1792…1822'
〃I REMEMBER; I REMEMBER〃
I remember; I remember
The house where I was born;
The little window where the sun
Came peeping in at morn;
He never came a wink too soon
Nor brought too long a day;
But now; I often wish the night
Had borne my breath away。
I remember; I remember
The roses; red and white;
The violets; and the lily…cups …
Those flowers made of light!
The lilacs where the robin built;
And where my brother set
The laburnum on his birthday; …
The tree is living yet!
I remember; I remember
Where I was used to swing;
And though the air must rush as fresh
To swallows on the wing;
My spirit flew in feathers then
That is so heavy now;
The summer pools could hardly cool
The fever on my brow。
I remember; I remember
The fir…trees dark and high;
I used to think their slender tops
Were close against the sky:
It was a childish ignorance;
But now 'tis little joy
To know I'm farther off from Heaven
Than when I was a boy。
Thomas Hood '1799…1845'
MY LOST YOUTH
Often I think of the beautiful town
That is seated by the sea;
Often in thought go up and down
The pleasant streets of that dear old town;
And my youth comes back to me。
And a verse of a Lapland song
Is haunting my memory still:
〃A boy's will is the wind's will;
And the thoughts of youth; are long; long thoughts。〃
I can see the shadowy lines of its trees;
And catch; in sudden gleams;
The sheen of the far…surrounding seas;
And islands that were the Hesperides
Of all my boyish dreams。
And the burden of that old song;
It murmurs and whispers still:
〃A boy's will is the wind's will;
And the thoughts of youth are long; long thoughts。〃
I remember the black wharves and the slips;
And the sea…tides tossing free;
And Spanish sailors with bearded lips;
And the beauty and mystery of the ships;
And the magic of the sea。
And the voice of that wayward song
Is singing and saying still:
〃A boy's will is the wind's will;
And the thoughts of youth are long; long thoughts。〃
I remember the bulwarks by the shore;
And the fort upon the hill;
The sunrise gun; with its hollow roar;
The drum…beat repeated o'er and o'er;
And the bugle wild and shrill。
And the music of that old song
Throbs in my memory still:
〃A boy's will is the wind's will;
And the thoughts of youth are long; long thoughts。〃
I remember the sea…fight far away;
How it thundered o'er the tide!
And the dead captains; as they lay
In their graves; o'erlooking the tranquil bay
Where they in battle died。
And the sound of that mournful song
Goes through m