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第14章

r. f. murray-his poems with a memoir-第14章

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Wear awhile your tinsel crown

Be ye happy; if ye may;

In the years that pass away。







LOVE'S WORSHIP RESTORED







O Love; thine empire is not dead;

Nor will we let thy worship go;

Although thine early flush be fled;

Thine ardent eyes more faintly glow;

And thy light wings be fallen slow

Since when as novices we came

Into the temple of thy name。



Not now with garlands in our hair;

And singing lips; we come to thee。

There is a coldness in the air;

A dulness on the encircling sea;

Which doth not well with songs agree。

And we forget the words we sang

When first to thee our voices rang。



When we recall that magic prime;

We needs must weep its early death。

How pleasant from thy towers the chime

Of bells; and sweet the incense breath

That rose while we; who kept thy faith;

Chanting our creed; and chanting bore

Our offerings to thine altar store!



Now are our voices out of tune;

Our gifts unworthy of thy name。

December frowns; in place of June。

Who smiled when to thy house we came;

We who came leaping; now are lame。

Dull ears and failing eyes are ours;

And who shall lead us to thy towers?



O hark!  A sound across the air;

Which tells not of December's cold;

A sound most musical and rare。

Thy bells are ringing as of old;

With silver throats and tongues of gold。

Alas! it is too sweet for truth;

An empty echo of our youth。



Nay; never echo spake so loud!

It is indeed thy bells that ring。

And lo; against the leaden cloud;

Thy towers!  Once more we leap and spring;

Once more melodiously we sing;

We sing; and in our song forget

That winter lies around us yet。



Oh; what is winter; now we know;

Full surely; thou canst never fail?

Forgive our weak untrustful woe;

Which deemed thy glowing face grown pale。

We know thee; mighty to prevail。

Doubt and decrepitude depart;

And youth comes back into the heart。



O Love; who turnest frost to flame

With ardent and immortal eyes;

Whose spirit sorrow cannot tame;

Nor time subdue in any wise …

While sun and moon for us shall rise;

Oh; may we in thy service keep

Till in thy faith we fall asleep!







BELOW HER WINDOW







Where she sleeps; no moonlight shines

No pale beam unbidden creeps。

Darkest shade the place enshrines

Where she sleeps。



Like a diamond in the deeps

Of the rich unopened mines

There her lovely rest she keeps。



Though the jealous dark confines

All her beauty; Love's heart leaps。

His unerring thought divines

Where she sleeps。







REQUIEM







For thee the birds shall never sing again;

Nor fresh green leaves come out upon the tree;

The brook shall no more murmur the refrain

For thee。



Thou liest underneath the windswept lea;

Thou dreamest not of pleasure or of pain;

Thou dreadest no to…morrow that shall be。



Deep rest is thine; unbroken by the rain;

Ay; or the thunder。  Brother; canst thou see

The tears that night and morning fall in vain

For thee?







THOU ART QUEEN







Thou art queen to every eye;

When the fairest maids convene。

Envy's self can not deny

Thou art queen。



In thy step thy right is seen;

In thy beauty pure and high;

In thy grace of air and mien。



Thine unworthy vassal I;

Lay my hands thy hands between;

Kneeling at thy feet I cry

Thou art queen!







IN TIME OF DOUBT







‘In the shadow of Thy wings; O Lord of Hosts; whom I extol;

I will put my trust for ever;' so the kingly David sings。

‘Thou shalt help me; Thou shalt save me; only

Thou shalt keep me whole;

In the shadow of Thy wings。'



In our ears this voice triumphant; like a blowing trumpet; rings;

But our hearts have heard another; as of funeral bells that toll;

‘God of David where to find Thee?'  No reply the question brings。



Shadows are there overhead; but they are of the clouds that roll;

Blotting out the sun from sight; and overwhelming earthly things。

Oh; that we might feel Thy presence!  Surely we could rest our soul

In the shadow of Thy wings。







THE GARDEN OF SIN







I know the garden…close of sin;

The cloying fruits; the noxious flowers;

I long have roamed the walks and bowers;

Desiring what no man shall win:



A secret place to shelter in;

When soon or late the angry powers

Come down to seek the wretch who cowers;

Expecting judgment to begin。



The pleasure long has passed away

From flowers and fruit; each hour I dread

My doom will find me where I lie。

I dare not go; I dare not stay。

Without the walks; my hope is dead;

Within them; I myself must die。







URSULA







There is a village in a southern land;

By rounded hills closed in on every hand。

The streets slope steeply to the market…square;

Long lines of white…washed houses; clean and fair;

With roofs irregular; and steps of stone

Ascending to the front of every one。

The people swarthy; idle; full of mirth;

Live mostly by the tillage of the earth。



Upon the northern hill…top; looking down;

Like some sequestered saint upon the town;

Stands the great convent。



On a summer night;

Ten years ago; the moon with rising light

Made all the convent towers as clear as day;

While still in deepest shade the village lay。

Both light and shadow with repose were filled;

The village sounds; the convent bells were stilled。

No foot in all the streets was now astir;

And in the convent none kept watch but her

Whom they called Ursula。  The moonlight fell

Brightly around her in the lonely cell。

Her eyes were dark; and full of unshed woe;

Like mountain tarns which cannot overflow;

Surcharged with rain; and round about the eyes

Deep rings recorded sleepless nights; and cries

Stifled before their birth。  Her brow was pale;

And like a marble temple in a vale

Of cypress trees; shone shadowed by her hair。

So still she was; that had you seen her there;

You might have thought you were beholding death。

Her lips were parted; but if any breath

Came from between them; it were hard to know

By any movement of her breast of snow。



But when the summer night was now far spent;

She kneeled upon the floor。  Her head she leant

Down on the cold stone of the window…seat。

God knows if there were any vital heat

In those pale brows; or if they chilled the stone。

And as she knelt; she made a bitter moan;

With words that issued from a bitter soul; …

‘O Mary; Mother; and is this thy goal;

Thy peace which waiteth for the world…worn heart?

Is it for this I live and die apart

From all that once I knew?  O Holy God;

Is this the blessed chastening of Thy rod;

Which only wounds to heal?  Is this the cross

That I must carry; counting all for loss

Which once was precious in the world to me?

If Thou be God; blot out my memory;

And let me come; forsaking all; to Thee。

But here; though that old world beholds me not;

Here; though I seek Thee through my lonely lot;

Here; though I fast; do penance day by day;

Kneel at Thy feet; and ever watch and pray;

Beloved forms from that forsaken world

Revisit me。  The pale blue smoke is curled

Up from the dwellings of the sons of men。

I see it; and all my heart turns back again

From seeking Thee; to find the forms I love。



‘Thou; with Thy saints abiding far above;

What canst Thou know of this; my earthly pain?

They said to me; Thou shalt be born again;

And learn that worldly things are nothing worth;

In that new state。  O God; is this new birth;

Birth of the spirit dying to the flesh?

Are these the living waters which refresh

The thirsty spirit; that it thirst no more?

Still all my life is thirsting to the core。

Thou canst not satisfy; if this be Thou。

And yet I dream; or I remember how;

Before I came here; while I tarried yet

Among the friends they tell me to forget;

I never seemed to seek Thee; but I found

Thou wert in all the loveliness aroun

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