登陆注册
5419700000178

第178章

Were I a pilgrim in search of peace, Were I a pastor of Holy Church, More than a Bishop's diocese Should I prize this place of rest, and release From farther longing and farther search.

Here would I stay, and let the world With its distant thunder roar and roll;Storms do not rend the sail that is furled;Nor like a dead leaf, tossed and whirled In an eddy of wind, is the anchored soul.

FOLK SONGS

THE SIFTING OF PETER

In St.Luke's Gospel we are told How Peter in the days of old Was sifted;And now, though ages intervene, Sin is the same, while time and scene Are shifted.

Satan desires us, great and small, As wheat to sift us, and we all Are tempted;Not one, however rich or great, Is by his station or estate Exempted.

No house so safely guarded is But he, by some device of his, Can enter;No heart hath armor so complete But he can pierce with arrows fleet Its centre.

For all at last the cock will crow, Who hear the warning voice, but go Unheeding, Till thrice and more they have denied The Man of Sorrows, crucified And bleeding.

One look of that pale suffering face Will make us feel the deep disgrace Of weakness;We shall be sifted till the strength Of self-conceit be changed at length To meekness.

Wounds of the soul, though healed will ache;The reddening scars remain, and make Confession;Lost innocence returns no more;

We are not what we were before Transgression.

But noble souls, through dust and heat, Rise from disaster and defeat The stronger, And conscious still of the divine Within them, lie on earth supine No longer.

MAIDEN AND WEATHERCOCK

MAIDEN

O weathercock on the village spire, With your golden feathers all on fire, Tell me, what can you see from your perch Above there over the tower of the church?

WEATHERCOCK.

I can see the roofs and the streets below, And the people moving to and fro, And beyond, without either roof or street, The great salt sea, and the fisherman's fleet.

I can see a ship come sailing in Beyond the headlands and harbor of Lynn, And a young man standing on the deck, With a silken kerchief round his neck.

Now he is pressing it to his lips, And now he is kissing his finger-tips, And now he is lifting and waving his hand And blowing the kisses toward the land.

MAIDEN.

Ah, that is the ship from over the sea, That is bringing my lover back to me, Bringing my lover so fond and true, Who does not change with the wind like you.

WEATHERCOCK.

If I change with all the winds that blow, It is only because they made me so, And people would think it wondrous strange, If I, a Weathercock, should not change.

O pretty Maiden, so fine and fair, With your dreamy eyes and your golden hair, When you and your lover meet to-day You will thank me for looking some other way.

THE WINDMILL

Behold! a giant am I!

Aloft here in my tower, With my granite jaws I devour The maize, and the wheat, and the rye, And grind them into flour.

I look down over the farms;

In the fields of grain I see The harvest that is to be, And I fling to the air my arms, For I know it is all for me.

I hear the sound of flails Far off, from the threshing-floors In barns, with their open doors, And the wind, the wind in my sails, Louder and louder roars.

I stand here in my place, With my foot on the rock below, And whichever way it may blow I meet it face to face, As a brave man meets his foe.

And while we wrestle and strive My master, the miller, stands And feeds me with his hands;For he knows who makes him thrive, Who makes him lord of lands.

On Sundays I take my rest;

Church-going bells begin Their low, melodious din;I cross my arms on my breast, And all is peace within.

THE TIDE RISES, THE TIDE FALLS

The tide rises, the tide falls, The twilight darkens, the curlew calls;Along the sea-sands damp and brown The traveller hastens toward the town, And the tide rises, the tide falls.

Darkness settles on roofs and walls, But the sea in the darkness calls and calls;The little waves, with their soft, white hands, Efface the footprints in the sands, And the tide rises, the tide falls.

The morning breaks; the steeds in their stalls Stamp and neigh, as the hostler calls;The day returns, but nevermore Returns the traveller to the shore, And the tide rises, the tide falls.

SONNETS

MY CATHEDRAL

Like two cathedral towers these stately pines Uplift their fretted summits tipped with cones;The arch beneath them is not built with stones, Not Art but Nature traced these lovely lines, And carved this graceful arabesque of vines;No organ but the wind here sighs and moans, No sepulchre conceals a martyr's bones.

No marble bishop on his tomb reclines.

Enter! the pavement, carpeted with leaves, Gives back a softened echo to thy tread!

Listen! the choir is singing; all the birds, In leafy galleries beneath the eaves, Are singing! listen, ere the sound be fled, And learn there may be worship with out words.

THE BURIAL OF THE POET

RICHARD HENRY DANA

In the old churchyard of his native town, And in the ancestral tomb beside the wall, We laid him in the sleep that comes to all, And left him to his rest and his renown.

The snow was falling, as if Heaven dropped down White flowers of Paradise to strew his pall;--The dead around him seemed to wake, and call His name, as worthy of so white a crown.

And now the moon is shining on the scene, And the broad sheet of snow is written o'er With shadows cruciform of leafless trees, As once the winding-sheet of Saladin With chapters of the Koran; but, ah! more Mysterious and triumphant signs are these.

NIGHT

Into the darkness and the hush of night Slowly the landscape sinks, and fades away, And with it fade the phantoms of the day, The ghosts of men and things, that haunt the light, The crowd, the clamor, the pursuit, the flight, The unprofitable splendor and display, The agitations, and the cares that prey Upon our hearts, all vanish out of sight.

The better life begins; the world no more Molests us; all its records we erase From the dull common-place book of our lives, That like a palimpsest is written o'er With trivial incidents of time and place, And lo! the ideal, hidden beneath, revives.

L'ENVOI

THE POET AND HIS SONGS

同类推荐
  • 胎息经注

    胎息经注

    本书为公版书,为不受著作权法限制的作家、艺术家及其它人士发布的作品,供广大读者阅读交流。汇聚授权电子版权。
  • 搜神秘览

    搜神秘览

    本书为公版书,为不受著作权法限制的作家、艺术家及其它人士发布的作品,供广大读者阅读交流。汇聚授权电子版权。
  • 盖庐

    盖庐

    本书为公版书,为不受著作权法限制的作家、艺术家及其它人士发布的作品,供广大读者阅读交流。汇聚授权电子版权。
  • 秀野林禅师语录

    秀野林禅师语录

    本书为公版书,为不受著作权法限制的作家、艺术家及其它人士发布的作品,供广大读者阅读交流。汇聚授权电子版权。
  • 太上灵宝净明入道品

    太上灵宝净明入道品

    本书为公版书,为不受著作权法限制的作家、艺术家及其它人士发布的作品,供广大读者阅读交流。汇聚授权电子版权。
热门推荐
  • The Way to Peace

    The Way to Peace

    本书为公版书,为不受著作权法限制的作家、艺术家及其它人士发布的作品,供广大读者阅读交流。汇聚授权电子版权。
  • THE PROFESSOR

    THE PROFESSOR

    本书为公版书,为不受著作权法限制的作家、艺术家及其它人士发布的作品,供广大读者阅读交流。汇聚授权电子版权。
  • 打碗碗花

    打碗碗花

    青梅竹马、两小无猜的一对农村青年男女,因不同的人生轨迹,不同的身份地位和世俗的偏见,未能结成百年之好。故事用词朴实生动,凄美感人。
  • 瞿秋白传

    瞿秋白传

    想为大家辟出一条光明的路,却因为多余的话一度被误为多余的人。五四风云人物书系《瞿秋白传》,36年悲剧人生说历史误会,从容就义是书生,74载烟云过尽见个人性情,细节还原真秋白。
  • 告白芭蕾:米斯蒂·科普兰传

    告白芭蕾:米斯蒂·科普兰传

    本书是是美国著名非裔芭蕾舞蹈家米斯蒂·科普兰的自传。在书中,她仔细讲述了自己如何在基本被白人所占据的芭蕾舞圈内取得惊人的成就,以及自己对于生命与芭蕾的感悟。新线影业已经获得了这部自传的电影版权。
  • 微信、微博这样玩才赚钱

    微信、微博这样玩才赚钱

    本书从微平台的特色、相应的营销模式的革新、由移动互联引发的大数据思维、新兴和传统产业与微平台的结合等方面着手,用简洁的语言、丰富翔实的微营销案例,阐述了微营销的时代特色和营销创新;以客观、直接,具有指导意义的真实案例,诠释了微营销模式的魅力和前景;以具有代表性的成功案例,向人们展示了微营销平台上已经发生、正在发生和将要发生的商业奇迹。期望通过本书让更多的个人和企业掌握更多在微营销平台上赚大钱的方法,同时也让微平台发挥出更加巨大的商业价值。
  • 进化之战

    进化之战

    2076年,经过科学干预,人类进化出了智力和体能都十分优越的“改良人”。改良人凭着出色的表现,占据着金字塔顶层。培养军事人才的国光军校,学生基本都由改良人组成。在这种背景下,林哲身为一个未经改造的“自然人”,却突然收到了国光军校的录取通知书,踏上了一段未知的旅程。
  • 友情·无言的温暖

    友情·无言的温暖

    没有人能说清楚,友情到底是一种什么东西?或者我们可以从它的一些特质上来说明,比如它是那种只有付出关爱,付出真诚才能得到的东西;它既是一种感情,也是一种收获。它是一种很美妙的东西,可以让你在失落的时候变得高兴起来,可以让你走出苦海,去迎接新的人生。它就像一种你无法说出,又可以感到快乐无比的东西。《
  • 佛说圣法印经

    佛说圣法印经

    本书为公版书,为不受著作权法限制的作家、艺术家及其它人士发布的作品,供广大读者阅读交流。汇聚授权电子版权。
  • 大星落

    大星落

    在恒星都开始熄灭的日子里,流落在异乡的马牛牛,一心却想要过好日子,于是一路走来一路认亲,却慢慢的点燃了世界的明灯。