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an anthology of australian verse-第30部分

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Such as the Icelanders say;

Or past the West's ruddy strand

Or on the edge of the day;



Some undiscovered clime

Seen through a cloud's sudden rift;

Where all the rainbows of Time

Slowly and silently drift?

Some happy port of a sea

Never a world's sail has made;

Where till the earth shadows flee

Never a rainbow may fade。



Oh; if that rainbow up there;

Just for a moment would reach;

Through the wet slope of the air

Here where I stand on the beach。

Here where the waves wash the strand

Swing itself lovingly low;

Let me catch fast with one hand;

Climb its frail rigging and go!









Johannes Carl Andersen。







  Soft; Low and Sweet





Soft; low and sweet; the blackbird wakes the day;

And clearer pipes; as rosier grows the gray

 Of the wide sky; far; far into whose deep

 The rath lark soars; and scatters down the steep

His runnel song; that skyey roundelay。



Earth with a sigh awakes; and tremors play;

 Coy in her leafy trees; and falt'ring creep

Across the daisy lawn and whisper; 〃Well…a…day;〃

    Soft; low and sweet。



From violet…banks the scent…clouds float away

 And spread around their fragrance; as of sleep:

 From ev'ry mossy nook the blossoms peep;

From ev'ry blossom comes one little ray

That makes the world…wealth one with Spring; alway

    Soft; low and sweet。







  Maui Victor





Unhewn in quarry lay the Parian stone;

 Ere hands; god…guided; of Praxiteles

Might shape the Cnidian Venus。  Long ungrown

 The ivory was which; chiselled; robbed of ease

 Pygmalion; sculptor…lover。  Now are these;

The stone and ivory; immortal made。

 The golden apples of Hesperides

Shall never; scattered; in blown dust be laid;

 Till Time; the dragon…guard; has lived his last decade。



The Cnidian Venus; Galatea's shape;

 A wondering world beheld; as we behold; 

Here; in blest isles beyond the stormy Cape;

 Where man the new land dowers with the old;

 Are neither marble shapes nor fruits of gold;

Nor white…limbed maidens; queened enchantress…wise;

 Here; Nature's beauties no vast ruins enfold;

No glamour fills her such as 'wildering lies

Where Mediterranean waters laugh to Grecian skies。



Acropolis with figure group and frieze;

 Parthenon; Temple; concepts born divine;

Where in these Isles are wonders great as these?

 Unquarried lies the stone in teeming mine;

 Bare is the land of sanctuary and shrine;

But though frail hands no god…like record set

 Great Nature's powers are lavish; and combine

In mountain dome; ice…glancing minaret;

Deep fiord; fiery fountain and lake with tree…wove carcanet。



And though the dusky race that to and fro;

 Like their own shades; pass by and leave no trace;

No age…contemning works from quick brain throw;

 They still have left what Time shall not efface; 

 The legends of an isolated race。

Not vainly Maui strove; no; not in vain

 He dared the old Mother of Death and her embrace:

That mankind might go free; he suffered pain 

And death he boldly dared; eternal life to gain。



Not death but dormancy the old womb has known;

 New love shall quicken it; new life attain:

These legends old in ivory and stone

 Shall live their recreated life again; 

 Shall wake; like Galatea; to joy and pain。

Legends and myths and wonders; what are these

 But glittering mines that long unworked have lain?

A Homer shall unlock with magic keys

Treasure for some antipodean Praxiteles!









Dora Wilcox。







  In London





When I look out on London's teeming streets;

On grim grey houses; and on leaden skies;

My courage fails me; and my heart grows sick;

And I remember that fair heritage

Barter'd by me for what your London gives。

This is not Nature's city:  I am kin

To whatsoever is of free and wild;

And here I pine between these narrow walls;

And London's smoke hides all the stars from me;

Light from mine eyes; and Heaven from my heart。



For in an island of those Southern seas

That lie behind me; guarded by the Cross

That looks all night from out our splendid skies;

I know a valley opening to the East。

There; hour by hour; the lazy tide creeps in

Upon the sands I shall not pace again 

Save in a dream;  and; hour by hour; the tide

Creeps lazily out; and I behold it not;

Nor the young moon slow sinking to her rest

Behind the hills; nor yet the dead white trees

Glimmering in the starlight:  they are ghosts

Of what has been; and shall be never more。

No; never more!



                 Nor shall I hear again

The wind that rises at the dead of night

Suddenly; and sweeps inward from the sea;

Rustling the tussock; nor the wekas' wail

Echoing at evening from the tawny hills。

In that deserted garden that I lov'd

Day after day; my flowers drop unseen;

And as your Summer slips away in tears;

Spring wakes our lovely Lady of the Bush;

The Kowhai; and she hastes to wrap herself

All in a mantle wrought of living gold;

Then come the birds; who are her worshippers;

To hover round her; tuis swift of wing;

And bell…birds flashing sudden in the sun;

Carolling:  Ah! what English nightingale;

Heard in the stillness of a summer eve;

From out the shadow of historic elms;

Sings sweeter than our Bell…bird of the Bush?

And Spring is here:  now the Veronica;

Our Koromiko; whitens on the cliff;

The honey…sweet Manuka buds; and bursts

In bloom; and the divine Convolvulus;

Most fair and frail of all our forest flowers;

Stars every covert; running riotous。

O quiet valley; opening to the East;

How far from this thy peacefulness am I!

Ah me; how far! and far this stream of Life

From thy clear creek fast falling to the sea!



Yet let me not lament that these things are

In that lov'd country I shall see no more;

All that has been is mine inviolate;

Lock'd in the secret book of memory。

And though I change; my valley knows no change。

And when I look on London's teeming streets;

On grim grey houses; and on leaden skies;

When speech seems but the babble of a crowd;

And music fails me; and my lamp of life

Burns low; and Art; my mistress; turns from me; 

Then do I pass beyond the Gate of Dreams

Into my kingdom; walking unconstrained

By ways familiar under Southern skies;

Nor unaccompanied; the dear dumb things

I lov'd once; have their immortality。

There too is all fulfilment of desire:

In this the valley of my Paradise

I find again lost ideals; dreams too fair

For lasting; there I meet once more mine own

Whom Death has stolen; or Life estranged from me; 

And thither; with the coming of the dark;

Thou comest; and the night is full of stars。









Ernest Currie。







  Laudabunt Alii





There are some that long for a limpid lake by a blue Italian shore;

Or a palm…grove out where the rollers break and the coral beaches roar;

There are some for the land of the Japanee; and the tea…girls' twinkling feet;

And some for the isles of the summer sea; afloat in the dancing heat;

And others are exiles all their days; midst black or white or brown;

Who yearn for the clashing of crowded ways; and the lights of London town。



But always I would wish to be where the seasons gently fall

On the Further Isle of the Outer Sea; the last little isle of all;

A fair green land of hill and plain; of rivers and water…springs;

Where the sun still follows after the rain; and ever the hours have wings;

With its bosomed valleys where men may find retreat from

  the rough world's way 。 。 。

Where the sea…wind kisses the mountain…wind between the dark and the day。



The combers swing from the China Sea to the California Coast;

The North Atlantic takes toll and fee of the best of the Old World's boast;

And the waves run high with the tearing crash that the Cape…bound

  steamers fear 

But they're not so free as the waves that lash the rocks by Sumner pier;

And wheresoever my body be; my heart remembers still

The purple shadows upon the sea; low down from Sumner hill。



The warm winds blow through Kuringai; the cool winds from the South

Drive little clouds across the sky by Sydney harbour…mouth;

But Sydney Heads feel no such breeze as comes from nor'…west rain

And takes the pines and the blue…gum trees by hill and gorge and plain;

And whistles down from Porter's Pass; over the fields of wheat;

And brings a breath of tussock grass into a Christchurch street。



Or the East wind dropping its sea…born rain; or the South wind wild and loud

Comes up and over the waiting plain; with a banner of driving cloud;

And if dark clouds bend to the teeming earth; and the hills are dimmed

  with rain;

There is only to wait for a new day's birth and the hills stand out again。

For no less sure than the rising sun; and no less glad to see

Is the lifting sky when the rain is done and the wet grass rustles free。



Some day we may drop the Farewell Light; and lose the winds of ho
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