an anthology of australian verse-第14章
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Bright Lucifer dies to a spark;
And the wind whistles up for a gale。
And stormy the day may be
That breaks through its prison bars;
But it brings no regret to me;
For I sing at the door of the stars!
Along the dim ocean…verge
I see the ships labouring on;
They rise on the lifting surge
One moment; and they are gone。
I see on the twilight plain
The flash of the flying cars;
Men travail in joy or pain
But I sing at the door of the stars!
I see the green; sleeping world;
The pastures all glazed with rime;
The smoke from the chimney curled;
I hear the faint church bells chime。
I see the grey mountain crest;
The slopes; and the forest spars;
With the dying moon on their breast
While I sing at the door of the stars!
Edward Booth Loughran。
Dead Leaves
When these dead leaves were green; love;
November's skies were blue;
And summer came with lips aflame;
The gentle spring to woo;
And to us; wandering hand in hand;
Life was a fairy scene;
That golden morning in the woods
When these dead leaves were green!
How dream…like now that dewy morn;
Sweet with the wattle's flowers;
When love; love; love was all our theme;
And youth and hope were ours!
Two happier hearts in all the land
There were not then; I ween;
Than those young lovers' yours and mine
When these dead leaves were green。
How gaily did you pluck these leaves
From the acacia's bough;
To mark the lyric we had read
I can repeat it now!
While came the words; like music sweet;
Your smiling lips between
〃So fold my love within your heart;〃
When these dead leaves were green!
How many springs have passed since then?
Ah; wherefore should we count;
The years that sped; like waters fled
From Time's unstaying fount?
We've had our share of happiness;
Our share of care have seen;
But love alone has never flown
Since these dead leaves were green。
Your heart is kind and loving still;
Your face to me as fair;
As when; that morn; the sunshine played
Amid your golden hair。
So; dearest; sweethearts still we'll be;
As we have ever been;
And keep our love as fresh and true
As when these leaves were green。
Isolation
Man lives alone; star…like; each soul
In its own orbit circles ever;
Myriads may by or round it roll
The ways may meet; but mingle never。
Self…pois'd; each soul its course pursues
In light or dark; companionless:
Drop into drop may blend the dews
The spirit's law is loneliness。
If seemingly two souls unite;
'Tis but as joins yon silent mere
The stream that through it; flashing bright;
Carries its waters swift and clear。
The fringes of the rushing tide
May on the lake's calm bosom sleep
Its hidden spirit doth abide
Apart; still bearing toward the deep。
O Love; to me more dear than life!
O Friend; more faithful than a brother!
How many a bitter inward strife
Our souls have never told each other!
We journey side by side for years;
We dream our lives; our hopes are one
And with some chance…said word appears
The spanless gulf; so long unknown!
For candour's want yet neither blame;
Even to ourselves but half…confessed;
Glows in each heart some silent flame;
Blooms some hope…violet of the breast。
And temptings dark; and struggles deep
There are; each soul alone must bear;
Through midnight hours unblest with sleep;
Through burning noontides of despair。
And kindly is the ordinance sent
By which each spirit dwells apart
Could Love or Friendship live; if rent
The 〃Bluebeard chambers of the heart〃?
Ishmonie
The traveller tells how; in that ancient clime
Whose mystic monuments and ruins hoar
Still struggle with the antiquary's lore;
To guard the secrets of a by…gone time;
He saw; uprising from the desert bare;
Like a white ghost; a city of the dead;
With palaces and temples wondrous fair;
Where moon…horn'd Isis once was worshipped。
But silence; like a pall; did all enfold;
And the inhabitants were turn'd to stone
Yea; stone the very heart of every one!
Once to a rich man I this tale re…told。
〃Stone hearts! A traveller's myth!〃 he turn'd aside;
As Hunger begg'd; pale…featured and wild…eyed。
John Liddell Kelly。
Immortality
At twenty…five I cast my horoscope;
And saw a future with all good things rife
A firm assurance of eternal life
In worlds beyond; and in this world the hope
Of deathless fame。 But now my sun doth slope
To setting; and the toil of sordid strife;
The care of food and raiment; child and wife;
Have dimmed and narrowed all my spirit's scope。
Eternal life a river gulphed in sands!
Undying fame a rainbow lost in clouds!
What hope of immortality remains
But this: 〃Some soul that loves and understands
Shall save thee from the darkness that enshrouds〃;
And this: 〃Thy blood shall course in others' veins〃?
Heredity
More than a fleshly immortality
Is mine。 Though I myself return again
To dust; my qualities of heart and brain;
Of soul and spirit; shall not cease to be。
I view them growing; day by day; in thee;
My first…begotten son; I trace them plain
In you; my daughters; and I count it gain
Myself renewed and multiplied to see。
But sadness mingles with my selfish joy;
At thought of what you may be called to bear。
Oh; passionate maid! Oh; glad; impulsive boy!
Your father's sad experience you must share
Self…torture; the unfeeling world's annoy;
Gross pleasure; fierce exultance; grim despair!
Robert Richardson。
A Ballade of Wattle Blossom
There's a land that is happy and fair;
Set gem…like in halcyon seas;
The white winters visit not there;
To sadden its blossoming leas;
More bland than the Hesperides;
Or any warm isle of the West;
Where the wattle…bloom perfumes the breeze;
And the bell…bird builds her nest。
When the oak and the elm are bare;
And wild winds vex the shuddering trees;
There the clematis whitens the air;
And the husbandman laughs as he sees
The grass rippling green to his knees;
And his vineyards in emerald drest
Where the wattle…bloom bends in the breeze;
And the bell…bird builds her nest。
What land is with this to compare?
Not the green hills of Hybla; with bees
Honey…sweet; are more radiant and rare
In colour and fragrance than these
Boon shores; where the storm…clouds cease;
And the wind and the wave are at rest
Where the wattle…bloom waves in the breeze;
And the bell…bird builds her nest。
Envoy。
Sweetheart; let them praise as they please
Other lands; but we know which is best
Where the wattle…bloom perfumes the breeze;
And the bell…bird builds her nest。
A Song
Above us only
The Southern stars;
And the moon o'er brimming
Her golden bars。
And a song sweet and clear
As the bell…bird's plaint;
Hums low in my ear
Like a dream…echo faint。
The kind old song
How did it go?
With its ripple and flow;
That you used to sing; dear;
Long ago。
Hand fast in hand;
I; love; and thou;
Hand locked in hand;
And on my brow
Your perfumed lips
Breathing love and life
The love of the maiden;
The trust of the wife。
And I'm listening still
To the ripple and flow
How did it go?
Of the little French song
Of that long ago。
Can you recall it
Across the years?
You used to sing it
With laughter and tears。
If you sang it now; dear;
That kind old refrain;
It would bring back the fragrance
Of the dead years again。
Le printemps pour l'amour
How did it go?
Only we know;
Sing it; sweetheart; to…night;
As you did long