第 77 节
作者:
乐乐陶陶 更新:2021-02-20 05:16 字数:9322
Here; in this room
Save I; who; weary; and half broken…hearted;
Sit in the gloom。
Loud 'gainst the window the winter rain dashes;
Dreary and cold;
Over the floor the red fire…light flashes
Just as of old。
Just as of old … but the embers are scattered;
Whose ruddy blaze
Flashed o'er the floor where the fairy feet pattered
In other days!
Then; her dear voice; like a silver chime ringing;
Melted away;
Often these walls have re…echoed her singing;
Now hushed for aye!
Why should love bring naught but sorrow; I wonder?
Everything dies!
Time and death; sooner or later; must sunder
Holiest ties。
Years have rolled by; I am wiser and older …
Wiser; but yet
Not till my heart and its feelings grow colder;
Can I forget。
So; in my snug little fire…lit chamber;
Sit I alone;
And; as I gaze in the coals; I remember
Days long agone!
George Arnold '1834…1865'
THE OLD MAN DREAMS
Oh for one hour of youthful joy!
Give back my twentieth spring!
I'd rather laugh; a bright…haired boy;
Than reign; a gray…beard king。
Off with the spoils of wrinkled age!
Away with Learning's crown!
Tear out life's Wisdom…written page;
And dash its trophies down!
One moment let my life…blood stream
From boyhood's fount of flame!
Give me one giddy; reeling dream
Of life all love and fame!
My listening angel heard the prayer;
And; calmly smiling; said;
〃If I but touch thy silvered hair;
Thy hasty wish hath sped。
〃But is there nothing in thy track
To bid thee fondly stay;
While the swift seasons hurry back
To find the wished…for day?〃
〃Ah; truest soul of womankind!
Without thee what were life?
One bliss I cannot leave behind:
I'll take … my … precious … wife!〃
The angel took a sapphire pen
And wrote in rainbow dew;
The man would be a boy again;
And be a husband; too!
〃And is there nothing yet unsaid;
Before the change appears?
Remember; all their gifts have fled
With those dissolving years。〃
〃Why; yes;〃 for memory would recall
My fond paternal joys;
〃I could not bear to leave them all …
I'll take … my … girl … and … boys。〃
The smiling angel dropped his pen; …
〃Why; this will never do;
The man would be a boy again;
And be a father; too!〃
And so I laughed; … my laughter woke
The household with its noise; …
And wrote my dream; when morning broke;
To please the gray…haired boys。
Oliver Wendell Holmes '1809…1894'
THE GARRET
After Beranger
With pensive eyes the little room I view;
Where; in my youth; I weathered it so long;
With a wild mistress; a stanch friend or two;
And a light heart still breaking into song:
Making a mock of life; and all its cares;
Rich in the glory of my rising sun;
Lightly I vaulted up four pair of stairs;
In the brave days when I was twenty…one。
Yes; 'tis a garret … let him know't who will …
There was my bed … full hard it was and small;
My table there … and I decipher still
Half a lame couplet charcoaled on the wall。
Ye joys; that Time hath swept with him away;
Come to mine eyes; ye dreams of love and fun;
For you I pawned my watch how many a day;
In the brave days when I was twenty…one。
And see my little Jessy; first of all;
She comes with pouting lips and sparkling eyes:
Behold; how roguishly she pins her shawl
Across the narrow casement; curtain…wise;
Now by the bed her petticoat glides down;
And when did woman look the worse in none?
I have heard since who paid for many a gown;
In the brave days when I was twenty…one。
One jolly evening; when my friends and I
Made happy music with our songs and cheers;
A shout of triumph mounted up thus high;
And distant cannon opened on our ears:
We rise; … we join in the triumphant strain; …
Napoleon conquers … Austerlitz is won …
Tyrants shall never tread us down again;
In the brave days when I was twenty…one。
Let us begone … the place is sad and strange …
How far; far off; these happy times appear;
All that I have to live I'd gladly change
For one such month as I have wasted here …
To draw long dreams of beauty; love; and power;
From founts of hope that never will outrun;
And drink all life's quintessence in an hour;
Give me the days when I was twenty…one!
William Makepeace Thackeray '1811…1863'
AULD LANG SYNE
Should auld acquaintance be forgot;
And never brought to min'?
Should auld acquaintance be forgot;
And days o' lang syne?
For auld lang syne; my dear;
For auld lang syne;
We'll tak a cup o' kindness yet
For auld lang syne。
We twa hae rin about the braes;
And pu'd the gowans fine;
But we've wandered monie a weary fit
Sin' auld lang syne。
We twa hae paidl't i' the burn;
Frae mornin' sun till dine;
But seas between us braid hae roared
Sin' auld lang syne。
And here's a hand; my trusty fiere;
And gie's a hand o' thine;
And we'll tak a right guid willie…waught
For auld lang syne。
And surely ye'll be your pint…stowp;
And surely I'll be mine;
And we'll tak a cup o' kindness yet
For auld lang syne!
Robert Burns '1759…1796'
ROCK ME TO SLEEP
Backward; turn backward; O Time; in your flight;
Make me a child again; just for to…night!
Mother; come back from the echoless shore;
Take me again to your heart as of yore;
Kiss from my forehead the furrows of care;
Smooth the few silver threads out of my hair;
Over my slumbers your loving watch keep; …
Rock me to sleep; mother; … rock me to sleep!
Backward; flow backward; O tide of the years!
I am so weary of toil and of tears; …
Toil without recompense; tears all in vain; …
Take them; and give me my childhood again!
I have grown weary of dust and decay; …
Weary of flinging my soul…wealth away;
Weary of sowing for others to reap; …
Rock me to sleep; mother; … rock me to sleep!
Tired of the hollow; the base; the untrue;
Mother; O mother; my heart calls for you!
Many a summer the grass has grown green;
Blossomed and faded; our faces between:
Yet; with strong yearning and passionate pain;
Long I to…night for your presence again。
Come from the silence so long and so deep; …
Rock me to sleep; mother; … rock me to sleep!
Over my heart; in the days that are flown;
No love like mother…love ever has shone;
No other worship abides and endures; …
Faithful; unselfish; and patient; like yours:
None like a mother can charm away pain
From the sick soul and the world…weary brain。
Slumber's soft calms o'er my heavy lids creep; …
Rock me to sleep; mother; … rock me to sleep!
Come; let your brown hair; just lighted with gold。
Fall on your shoulders again as of old;
Let it drop over my forehead to…night;
Shading my faint eyes away from the light;
For with its sunny…edged shadows once more
Haply will throng the sweet visions of yore;
Lovingly; softly; its bright billows sweep; …
Rock me to sleep; mother; … rock me to sleep!
Mother; dear mother; the years have been long
Since I last listened your lullaby song:
Sing; then; and unto my soul it shall seem
Womanhood's years have been only a dream。
Clasped to your heart in a loving embrace;
With your light lashes just sweeping my face;
Never hereafter to wake or to weep; …
Rock me to sleep; mother; … rock me to sleep!
Elizabeth Akers '1832…1911'
THE BUCKET
How dear to this heart are the scenes of my childhood;
When fond recollection presents them to view!
The orchard; the meadow; the deep…tangled wild…wood;
And every loved spot which my infancy knew!
The wide…spreading pond; and the mill that stood by it;
The bridge; and the rock where the cataract fell;
The cot of my father; the dairy…house nigh it;
And e'en the rude bucket that hung in the well …
The old oaken bucket; the iron…bound bucket;
The moss…covered bucket which hung in the well。
That moss…covered vessel I hailed as a treasure;
For often at noon; when returned from the field;
I found it the source of an exquisite pleasure;
The purest and sweetest that nature can yield。
How ardent I seized it; with hands that were glowing;
And quick to the white…pebbled bottom it fell;
Then soon; with the emblem of truth overflowing;
And dripping with coolness; it rose from the well …
The old oaken bucket; the iron…bound bucket;
The moss…covered bucket arose from the well。
How sweet from the green mossy brim to receive it;
As poised on the curb it inclined to my lips!
Not a full blushing goblet would tempt me to leave it;
The brightest that beauty or revelry sips。
And now; far removed from the loved habitation;
The tear of regret will intrusively swell;
As fancy reverts to my father's plantation;
And sighs for the bucket that hangs in the well …
The old oaken bucket; the iron…bound bucket;
The moss…covered bucket that hangs in the well!
Samuel Woodworth '1785…1842'