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the works of edgar allan poe-5-第45部分
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Stands she not nobly and alone?
Falling … her veriest stepping…stone
Shall form the pedestal of a throne …
And who her sovereign? Timour … he
Whom the astonished people saw
Striding o'er empires haughtily
A diadem'd outlaw …
O! human love! thou spirit given;
On Earth; of all we hope in Heaven!
Which fall'st into the soul like rain
Upon the Siroc wither'd plain;
And failing in thy power to bless
But leav'st the heart a wilderness!
Idea! which bindest life around
With music of so strange a sound
And beauty of so wild a birth …
Farewell! for I have won the Earth!
When Hope; the eagle that tower'd; could see
No cliff beyond him in the sky;
His pinions were bent droopingly …
And homeward turn'd his soften'd eye。
'Twas sunset: when the sun will part
There comes a sullenness of heart
To him who still would look upon
The glory of the summer sun。
That soul will hate the ev'ning mist;
So often lovely; and will list
To the sound of the coming darkness (known
To those whose spirits hearken) as one
Who; in a dream of night; _would_ fly
But _cannot_ from a danger nigh。
What tho' the moon … the white moon
Shed all the splendour of her noon;
Her smile is chilly … and her beam;
In that time of dreariness; will seem
(So like you gather in your breath)
A portrait taken after death。
And boyhood is a summer sun
Whose waning is the dreariest one
For all we live to know is known;
And all we seek to keep hath flown …
Let life; then; as the day…flower; fall
With the noon…day beauty … which is all。
I reach'd my home … my home no more …
For all had flown who made it so …
I pass'd from out its mossy door;
And; tho' my tread was soft and low;
A voice came from the threshold stone
Of one whom I had earlier known …
O! I defy thee; Hell; to show
On beds of fire that burn below;
A humbler heart … a deeper wo …
Father; I firmly do believe …
I _know_ … for Death; who comes for me
From regions of the blest afar;
Where there is nothing to deceive;
Hath left his iron gate ajar;
And rays of truth you cannot see
Are flashing thro' Eternity
I do believe that Eblis hath
A snare in ev'ry human path …
Else how; when in the holy grove
I wandered of the idol; Love;
Who daily scents his snowy wings
With incense of burnt offerings
From the most unpolluted things;
Whose pleasant bowers are yet so riven
Above with trelliced rays from Heaven
No mote may shun … no tiniest fly
The light'ning of his eagle eye …
How was it that Ambition crept;
Unseen; amid the revels there;
Till growing bold; he laughed and leapt
In the tangles of Love's very hair?
1829。
~~~ End of Text ~~~
TO HELEN
HELEN; thy beauty is to me
Like those Nicean barks of yore;
That gently; o'er a perfumed sea;
The weary way…worn wanderer bore
To his own native shore。
On desperate seas long wont to roam;
Thy hyacinth hair; thy classic face;
Thy Naiad airs have brought me home
To the glory that was Greece;
And the grandeur that was Rome。
Lo ! in yon brilliant window…niche
How statue…like I me thee stand;
The agate lamp within thy hand!
Ah; Psyche; from the regions which
Are Holy…land !
1831。
~~~ End of Text ~~~
THE VALLEY OF UNREST
_Once_ it smiled a silent dell
Where the people did not dwell;
They had gone unto the wars;
Trusting to the mild…eyed stars;
Nightly; from their azure towers;
To keep watch above the flowers;
In the midst of which all day
The red sun…light lazily lay。
_Now_ each visiter shall confess
The sad valley's restlessness。
Nothing there is motionless …
Nothing save the airs that brood
Over the magic solitude。
Ah; by no wind are stirred those trees
That palpitate like the chill seas
Around the misty Hebrides!
Ah; by no wind those clouds are driven
That rustle through the unquiet Heaven
Uneasily; from morn till even;
Over the violets there that lie
In myriad types of the human eye …
Over the lilies there that wave
And weep above a nameless grave!
They wave: … from out their fragrant tops
Eternal dews come down in drops。
They weep: … from off their delicate stems
Perennial tears descend in gems。
1831。
~~~ End of Text ~~~
ISRAFEL*
IN Heaven a spirit doth dwell
〃Whose heart…strings are a lute;〃
None sing so wildly well
As the angel Israfel;
And the giddy stars (so legends tell)
Ceasing their hymns; attend the spell
Of his voice; all mute。
Tottering above
In her highest noon
The enamoured moon
Blushes with love;
While; to listen; the red levin
(With the rapid Pleiads; even;
Which were seven;)
Pauses in Heaven
And they say (the starry choir
And all the listening things)
That Israfeli's fire
Is owing to that lyre
By which he sits and sings …
The trembling living wire
Of those unusual strings。
* And the angel Israfel; whose heart…strings are a lut; and who has the
sweetest voice of all God's creatures。 … KORAN。
But the skies that angel trod;
Where deep thoughts are a duty …
Where Love's a grown up God …
Where the Houri glances are
Imbued with all the beauty
Which we worship in a star。
Therefore; thou art not wrong;
Israfeli; who despisest
An unimpassion'd song:
To thee the laurels belong
Best bard; because the wisest!
Merrily live; and long!
The extacies above
With thy burning measures suit …
Thy grief; thy joy; thy hate; thy love;
With the fervor of thy lute …
Well may the stars be mute!
Yes; Heaven is thine; but this
Is a world of sweets and sours;
Our flowers are merely … flowers;
And the shadow of thy perfect bliss
Is the sunshine of ours。
If I could dwell
Where Israfel
Hath dwelt; and he where I;
He might not sing so wildly well
A mortal melody;
While a bolder note than this might swell
From my lyre within the sky。
1836。
~~~ End of Text ~~~
TO … …
1
The bowers whereat; in dreams; I see
The wantonest singing birds
Are lips … and all thy melody
Of lip…begotten words …
2
Thine eyes; in Heaven of heart enshrin'd
Then desolately fall;
O! God! on my funereal mind
Like starlight on a pall …
3
Thy heart … _thy_ heart! … I wake and sigh;
And sleep to dream till day
Of truth that gold can never buy …
Of the trifles that it may。
1829。
~~~ End of Text ~~~
TO …
I HEED not that my earthly lot
Hath…little of Earth in it
That years of love have been forgot
In the hatred of a minute:
I mourn not that the desolate
Are happier; sweet; than I;
But that you sorrow for my fate
Who am a passer…by。
1829。
TO THE RIVER
FAIR river! in thy bright; clear flow
Of crystal; wandering water;
Thou art an emblem of the glow
Of beauty … the unhidden heart …
The playful maziness of art
In old Alberto's daughter;
But when within thy wave she looks …
Which glistens then; and trembles …
Why; then; the prettiest of brooks
Her worshipper resembles;
For in my heart; as in thy stream;
Her image deeply lies …
His heart which trembles at the beam
Of her soul…searching eyes。
1829。
~~~ End of Text ~~~
SONG
~~~~~~~~~~~~
I SAW thee on thy bridal day …
When a burning blush came o'er thee;
Though happiness around thee lay;
The world all love before thee:
And in thine eye a kindling light
(Whatever it might be)
Was all on Earth my aching sight
Of Loveliness could see。
That blush; perhaps; was maiden shame …
As such it well may pass …
Though its glow hath raised a fiercer flame
In the breast of him; alas!
Who saw thee on that bridal day;
When that deep blush _would_ come o'er thee;
Though happiness around thee lay;
The world all love before thee。
1827。
~~~ End of Text ~~~
SPIRITS OF THE DEAD
1
Thy soul shall find itself alone
'Mid dark thoughts of the grey tomb…stone …
Not one; of all the crowd; to pry
Into thine hour of secrecy:
2
Be silent in that solitude
Which is not loneliness … for then
The spirits of the dead who stood
In life before thee are again
In death around thee … and their will
Shall then overshadow thee: be still。
3
For the night … tho' clear … shall frown …
And the stars shall look not down;
From their high thrones in the Heaven;
With light like Hope to mortals given …
But their red orbs; without beam;
To thy weariness shall seem
As a burning and a fever
Which would cling to thee for ever :
4
Now are thoughts thou shalt not banish …
Now are visions ne'er to vanish …
From thy spirit shall they pass
No more … like dew…drop from the grass:
5
The breeze … the breath of God … is still …
And the mist upon the hill
Shadowy … shadowy … yet unbroken;
Is a symbol and a token …
How it hangs upon the trees;
A mystery of mysteries! …
1827。
~~~ End of Text ~~~
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