章节正文
By its strange, unearthly splendour, on the floating Eden gazed!
Only once since Eve went weeping through a throng of glittering wings,
Hath the holy seen Hy-Brasil where the great gold river sings!
Only once by quiet waters, under still, resplendent skies,
Page: 36
Did the sister of the seraphs kneel in sight of Paradise!
She, the pure, the perfect woman, sanctified by patient prayer,
Had the eyes of saints of Heaven, all their glory in her hair:
Therefore God the Father whispered to a radiant spirit near -
``Show Our daughter fair Hy-Brasil - show her this, and lead her here.''
But beyond the halls of sunset, but within the wondrous west,
On the rose-red seas of evening, sails the Garden of the Blest.
Still the gates of glassy beauty, still the walls of glowing light,
Shine on waves that no man knows of, out of sound and out of sight.
Page: 37
Yet the slopes and lawns of lustre, yet the dells of sparkling streams,
Dip to tranquil shores of jasper, where the watching angel beams.
But, behold, our eyes are human, and our way is paved with pain,
We can never find Hy-Brasil, never see its hills again;
Never look on bays of crystal, never bend the reverent knee
In the sight of Eden floating - floating on the sapphire sea!
Page: 38
JIM THE SPLITTER
The bard who is singing of Wollombi Jim
Is hardly just now in the requisite trim
To sit on his Pegasus fairly;
Besides, he is bluntly informed by the Muse
That Jim is a subject no singer should choose;
For Jim is poetical rarely.
But being full up of the myths that are Greek -
Of the classic, and ``noble, and nude, and antique,''
Which means not a rag but the pelt on;
This poet intends to give Daphne the slip,
For the sake of a hero in moleskin and kip,
With a jumper and snake-buckle belt on.
Page: 39
No party is Jim of the Pericles type -
He is modern right up from the toe to the pipe;
And being no reader or roamer,
He hasn't Euripides much in the head;
And let it be carefully, tenderly said,
He never has analysed Homer.
He can roar out a song of the twopenny kind;
But, knowing the beggar so well, I'm inclined
To believe that a ``par'' about Kelly,
The rascal who skulked under shadow of curse,
Is more in his line than the happiest verse
On the glittering pages of Shelley.
You mustn't, however, adjudge him in haste,
Because a red robber is more to his taste
Than Ruskin, Rossetti, or Dante!
You see, he was bred in a bangalow wood,
And bangalow pith was the principal food
His mother served out in her shanty.
Page: 40
His knowledge is this - he can tell in the dark
What timber will split by the feel of the bark;
And rough as his manner of speech is,
His wits to the fore he can readily bring
In passing off ash as the genuine thing
When scarce in the forest the beech is.
In girthing a tree that he sells ``in the round,''
He assumes, as a rule, that the body is sound,
And measures, forgetting to bark it!
He may be a ninny, but still the old dog
Can plug to perfection the pipe of a log
And ``palm it'' away on the market.
He splits a fair shingle, but holds to the rule
Of his father's, and, haply, his grandfather's school;
Which means that he never has blundered,
When tying his shingles, by slinging in more
Than the recognized number of ninety and four
To the bundle he sells for a hundred!
Page: 41
When asked by the market for ironbark red,
It always occurs to the Wollombi head
To do a ``mahogany'' swindle.
In forests where never the ironbark grew,
When Jim is at work, it would flabbergast you
To see how the ``ironbarks'' dwindle.
He can stick to the saddle, can Wollombi Jim,
And when a buckjumper dispenses with him,
The leather goes off with the rider.
And, as to a team, over gully and hill
He can travel with twelve on the breadth of a quill
And boss the unlucky ``offsider.''
He shines at his best at the tiller of saw,
On the top of the pit, where his whisper is law
To the gentleman working below him.
When the pair of them pause in a circle of dust,
Like a monarch he poses - exalted, august -
There's nothing this planet can show him!
Page: 42
For a man is a man who can ``sharpen'' and ``set;''
And he is the only thing masculine yet
According to sawyer and splitter -
Or rather according to Wollombi Jim;
And nothing will tempt me to differ from him,
For Jim is a bit of a hitter.
But, being full up, we'll allow him to rip,
Along with his lingo, his saw, and his whip -
He isn't the classical ``notion;''
And, after a night in his ``humpy,'' you see,
A person of orthodox habits would be
Refreshed by a dip in the ocean.
To tot him right up from the heel to the head,
He isn't the Grecian of whom we have read -
His face is a trifle too shady.
The nymph in green valleys of Thessaly dim
Would never ``jack up'' her old lover for him,
For she has the tastes of a lady.
Page: 43
So much for our hero! A statuesque foot
Would suffer by wearing that heavy-nailed boot -
Its owner is hardly Achilles.
However, he's happy! He cuts a great ``fig''
In the land where a coat is no part of the ``rig'' -
In the country of damper and ``billies.''
Page: 44
MOONI
(Written in the Shadow of 1872)
AH, to be by Mooni now!
Where the great dark hills of wonder,
Scarred with storm and cleft asunder
By the strong sword of the thunder,
Make a night on morning's brow!
Just to stand where Nature's face is
Flushed with power in forest places -
Where of God authentic trace is -
Ah, to be by Mooni now!
Page: 45
Just to be by Mooni's springs!
There to stand, the shining sharer
Of that larger life, and rarer
Beauty caught from beauty fairer
Than the human face of things!
Soul of mine from sin abhorrent
Fain would hide by flashing current,
Like a sister of the torrent,
Far away by Mooni's springs.
He that is by Mooni now,
Sees the water-sapphires gleaming
Where the River Spirit, dreaming,
Sleeps by fall and fountainstreaming
Under lute of leaf and bough -
Hears, where stamp of storm with stress is,
Psalms from unseen wildernesses
Deep amongst far hill-recesses -
He that is by Mooni now.
Page: 46
Yea, for him by Mooni's marge
Sings the yellow-haired September,
With the face the gods remember
When the ridge is burnt to ember,
And the dumb sea chains the barge!
Where the mount like molten brass is,
Down beneath fern-feathered passes,
Noonday dew in cool green grasses
Gleams on him by Mooni's marge.
Who that dwells by Mooni yet,
Feels, in flowerful forest arches,
Smiting wings and breath that parches
Where strong Summer's path of march is,
And the suns in thunder set?
Housed beneath the gracious kirtle
Of the shadowy water myrtle,
Winds may hiss with heat, and hurtle -
He is safe by Mooni yet!
Page: 47
Days there were when he who sings
(Dumb so long through passion's losses)
Stood where Mooni's water crosses
Shining tracts of green-haired mosses,
Like a soul with radiant wings;
Then the psalm the wind rehearses -
Then the song the stream disperses
Lent a beauty to his verses,
Who to-night of Mooni sings.
Ah, the theme - the sad, grey theme!
Certain days are not above me,
Certain hearts have ceased to love me,
Certain fancies fail to move me
Like the affluent morning dream.
Head whereon the white is stealing,
Heart whose hurts are past all healing,
Where is now the first pure feeling?
Ah, the theme - the sad, grey theme!
Page: 48
Sin and shame have left their trace!
He who mocks the mighty, gracious
Love of Christ, with eyes audacious,
Hunting after fires fallacious,
Wears the issue in his face.
Soul that flouted gift and Giver,
Like the broken Persian river,
Thou hast lost thy strength for ever!
Sin and shame have left their trace.
In the years that used to be,
When the large, supreme occasion
Brought the life of inspiration,
Like a god's transfiguration
Only once since Eve went weeping through a throng of glittering wings,
Hath the holy seen Hy-Brasil where the great gold river sings!
Only once by quiet waters, under still, resplendent skies,
Page: 36
Did the sister of the seraphs kneel in sight of Paradise!
She, the pure, the perfect woman, sanctified by patient prayer,
Had the eyes of saints of Heaven, all their glory in her hair:
Therefore God the Father whispered to a radiant spirit near -
``Show Our daughter fair Hy-Brasil - show her this, and lead her here.''
But beyond the halls of sunset, but within the wondrous west,
On the rose-red seas of evening, sails the Garden of the Blest.
Still the gates of glassy beauty, still the walls of glowing light,
Shine on waves that no man knows of, out of sound and out of sight.
Page: 37
Yet the slopes and lawns of lustre, yet the dells of sparkling streams,
Dip to tranquil shores of jasper, where the watching angel beams.
But, behold, our eyes are human, and our way is paved with pain,
We can never find Hy-Brasil, never see its hills again;
Never look on bays of crystal, never bend the reverent knee
In the sight of Eden floating - floating on the sapphire sea!
Page: 38
JIM THE SPLITTER
The bard who is singing of Wollombi Jim
Is hardly just now in the requisite trim
To sit on his Pegasus fairly;
Besides, he is bluntly informed by the Muse
That Jim is a subject no singer should choose;
For Jim is poetical rarely.
But being full up of the myths that are Greek -
Of the classic, and ``noble, and nude, and antique,''
Which means not a rag but the pelt on;
This poet intends to give Daphne the slip,
For the sake of a hero in moleskin and kip,
With a jumper and snake-buckle belt on.
Page: 39
No party is Jim of the Pericles type -
He is modern right up from the toe to the pipe;
And being no reader or roamer,
He hasn't Euripides much in the head;
And let it be carefully, tenderly said,
He never has analysed Homer.
He can roar out a song of the twopenny kind;
But, knowing the beggar so well, I'm inclined
To believe that a ``par'' about Kelly,
The rascal who skulked under shadow of curse,
Is more in his line than the happiest verse
On the glittering pages of Shelley.
You mustn't, however, adjudge him in haste,
Because a red robber is more to his taste
Than Ruskin, Rossetti, or Dante!
You see, he was bred in a bangalow wood,
And bangalow pith was the principal food
His mother served out in her shanty.
Page: 40
His knowledge is this - he can tell in the dark
What timber will split by the feel of the bark;
And rough as his manner of speech is,
His wits to the fore he can readily bring
In passing off ash as the genuine thing
When scarce in the forest the beech is.
In girthing a tree that he sells ``in the round,''
He assumes, as a rule, that the body is sound,
And measures, forgetting to bark it!
He may be a ninny, but still the old dog
Can plug to perfection the pipe of a log
And ``palm it'' away on the market.
He splits a fair shingle, but holds to the rule
Of his father's, and, haply, his grandfather's school;
Which means that he never has blundered,
When tying his shingles, by slinging in more
Than the recognized number of ninety and four
To the bundle he sells for a hundred!
Page: 41
When asked by the market for ironbark red,
It always occurs to the Wollombi head
To do a ``mahogany'' swindle.
In forests where never the ironbark grew,
When Jim is at work, it would flabbergast you
To see how the ``ironbarks'' dwindle.
He can stick to the saddle, can Wollombi Jim,
And when a buckjumper dispenses with him,
The leather goes off with the rider.
And, as to a team, over gully and hill
He can travel with twelve on the breadth of a quill
And boss the unlucky ``offsider.''
He shines at his best at the tiller of saw,
On the top of the pit, where his whisper is law
To the gentleman working below him.
When the pair of them pause in a circle of dust,
Like a monarch he poses - exalted, august -
There's nothing this planet can show him!
Page: 42
For a man is a man who can ``sharpen'' and ``set;''
And he is the only thing masculine yet
According to sawyer and splitter -
Or rather according to Wollombi Jim;
And nothing will tempt me to differ from him,
For Jim is a bit of a hitter.
But, being full up, we'll allow him to rip,
Along with his lingo, his saw, and his whip -
He isn't the classical ``notion;''
And, after a night in his ``humpy,'' you see,
A person of orthodox habits would be
Refreshed by a dip in the ocean.
To tot him right up from the heel to the head,
He isn't the Grecian of whom we have read -
His face is a trifle too shady.
The nymph in green valleys of Thessaly dim
Would never ``jack up'' her old lover for him,
For she has the tastes of a lady.
Page: 43
So much for our hero! A statuesque foot
Would suffer by wearing that heavy-nailed boot -
Its owner is hardly Achilles.
However, he's happy! He cuts a great ``fig''
In the land where a coat is no part of the ``rig'' -
In the country of damper and ``billies.''
Page: 44
MOONI
(Written in the Shadow of 1872)
AH, to be by Mooni now!
Where the great dark hills of wonder,
Scarred with storm and cleft asunder
By the strong sword of the thunder,
Make a night on morning's brow!
Just to stand where Nature's face is
Flushed with power in forest places -
Where of God authentic trace is -
Ah, to be by Mooni now!
Page: 45
Just to be by Mooni's springs!
There to stand, the shining sharer
Of that larger life, and rarer
Beauty caught from beauty fairer
Than the human face of things!
Soul of mine from sin abhorrent
Fain would hide by flashing current,
Like a sister of the torrent,
Far away by Mooni's springs.
He that is by Mooni now,
Sees the water-sapphires gleaming
Where the River Spirit, dreaming,
Sleeps by fall and fountainstreaming
Under lute of leaf and bough -
Hears, where stamp of storm with stress is,
Psalms from unseen wildernesses
Deep amongst far hill-recesses -
He that is by Mooni now.
Page: 46
Yea, for him by Mooni's marge
Sings the yellow-haired September,
With the face the gods remember
When the ridge is burnt to ember,
And the dumb sea chains the barge!
Where the mount like molten brass is,
Down beneath fern-feathered passes,
Noonday dew in cool green grasses
Gleams on him by Mooni's marge.
Who that dwells by Mooni yet,
Feels, in flowerful forest arches,
Smiting wings and breath that parches
Where strong Summer's path of march is,
And the suns in thunder set?
Housed beneath the gracious kirtle
Of the shadowy water myrtle,
Winds may hiss with heat, and hurtle -
He is safe by Mooni yet!
Page: 47
Days there were when he who sings
(Dumb so long through passion's losses)
Stood where Mooni's water crosses
Shining tracts of green-haired mosses,
Like a soul with radiant wings;
Then the psalm the wind rehearses -
Then the song the stream disperses
Lent a beauty to his verses,
Who to-night of Mooni sings.
Ah, the theme - the sad, grey theme!
Certain days are not above me,
Certain hearts have ceased to love me,
Certain fancies fail to move me
Like the affluent morning dream.
Head whereon the white is stealing,
Heart whose hurts are past all healing,
Where is now the first pure feeling?
Ah, the theme - the sad, grey theme!
Page: 48
Sin and shame have left their trace!
He who mocks the mighty, gracious
Love of Christ, with eyes audacious,
Hunting after fires fallacious,
Wears the issue in his face.
Soul that flouted gift and Giver,
Like the broken Persian river,
Thou hast lost thy strength for ever!
Sin and shame have left their trace.
In the years that used to be,
When the large, supreme occasion
Brought the life of inspiration,
Like a god's transfiguration
- sunset [´sʌnset]
n.日落；晚霞 (初中英语单词) - crystal [´kristəl] n.水晶 a.水晶的 (初中英语单词)
- singer [´siŋə] n.歌手，演唱者 (初中英语单词)
- knowing [´nəuiŋ] a.会意的，心照不宣的 (初中英语单词)
- beggar [´begə] n.乞丐 (初中英语单词)
- robber [´rɔbə] n.强盗；盗贼 (初中英语单词)
- principal [´prinsəpəl] a.主要的 n.负责人 (初中英语单词)
- timber [´timbə] n.木材；木料；横梁 (初中英语单词)
- readily [´redili] ad.乐意地；容易地 (初中英语单词)
- scarce [skeəs, skers] a.缺乏的；稀有的 (初中英语单词)
- bundle [´bʌndl] n.包，捆；包袱(裹) (初中英语单词)
- saddle [´sædl] n.鞍子 v.装鞍(于) (初中英语单词)
- whisper [´wispə] v.耳语 n.低语；沙沙声 (初中英语单词)
- working [´wə:kiŋ] a.工人的；劳动的 (初中英语单词)
- circle [´sə:kəl] n.圆圈 v.环绕；盘旋 (初中英语单词)
- monarch [´mɔnək] n.君主；(大)王 (初中英语单词)
- planet [´plænit] n.行星 (初中英语单词)
- differ [´difə] vi.不同；有差别 (初中英语单词)
- trifle [´traifəl] n.琐事，小事；少量 (初中英语单词)
- fountain [´fauntin] n.泉水；源泉；根源 (初中英语单词)
- stress [stres] n.强调；压力 vt.强调 (初中英语单词)
- breath [breθ] n.呼吸；气息 (初中英语单词)
- thunder [´θʌndə] n.雷 vi.打雷 vt.吼出 (初中英语单词)
- gracious [´greiʃəs] a.和蔼可亲的；任慈的 (初中英语单词)
- stream [stri:m] n.河 vi.流出；飘扬 (初中英语单词)
- christ [kraist] n.基督 int.天啊! (初中英语单词)
- persian [´pə:ʃən] a.波斯的 n.波斯人 (初中英语单词)
- supreme [su:´pri:m, sju:-] a.最高的，无上的 (初中英语单词)
- throng [θrɔŋ] n.群众 v.拥挤；群集 (高中英语单词)
- radiant [´reidiənt] a.发光的 n.光源(体) (高中英语单词)
- classic [´klæsik] a.第一流的 n.杰作 (高中英语单词)
- tenderly [´tendəli] ad.娇嫩地；柔和地 (高中英语单词)
- rascal [´rɑ:skəl] n.流氓 (高中英语单词)
- genuine [´dʒenjuin] a.真正的；真诚的 (高中英语单词)
- perfection [pə´fekʃən] n.完美；极致；熟练 (高中英语单词)
- breadth [bredθ] n.宽度，幅面，广度 (高中英语单词)
- unseen [,ʌn´si:n] a.未看见的 (高中英语单词)
- amongst [ə´mʌŋst] prep.其中之一 =among (高中英语单词)
- shadowy [´ʃædəui] a.有阴影的；模糊的 (高中英语单词)
- mighty [´maiti] a.强有力的 ad.很 (高中英语单词)
- wondrous [´wʌndrəs] a.极好的 ad.惊人地 (英语四级单词)
- sapphire [´sæfaiə] n.蓝宝石 a.深蓝色的 (英语四级单词)
- requisite [´rekwizit] a.需要的；必要的 n.必需品 (英语四级单词)
- shingle [´ʃiŋgəl] n.盖屋板；木瓦 (英语四级单词)
- unlucky [ʌn´lʌki] a.倒霉的，不幸的 (英语四级单词)
- masculine [´mæ:skjulin] a.男性的 n.男子 (英语四级单词)
- classical [´klæsikəl] a.经典的；传统的 (英语四级单词)
- authentic [ɔ:´θentik] a.真实的；可靠的 (英语四级单词)
- molten [´məultən] melt的过去分词 (英语四级单词)
- weeping [´wi:piŋ] a.&n.哭泣(的) (英语六级单词)
- resplendent [ri´splendənt] a.灿烂的；辉煌的 (英语六级单词)
- glassy [´glɑ:si] a.光滑的；无神的 (英语六级单词)
- tranquil [´træŋkwil] a.平静的，稳定的 (英语六级单词)
- bluntly [´blʌntli] ad.钝，迟钝地；直率地 (英语六级单词)
- poetical [pəu´etikəl] a.理想化了的 (英语六级单词)
- daphne [´dæfni] n.瑞香 (英语六级单词)
- jumper [´dʒʌmpə] n.跳跃者，跳高运动员 (英语六级单词)
- august [ɔ:´gʌst] a.尊严的；威严的 (英语六级单词)
- orthodox [´ɔ:θədɔks] a.正统的；正统的；习惯的 (英语六级单词)
- grecian [´gri:ʃən] a.古希腊的 n.希腊人 (英语六级单词)
- whereon [weər´ɔn] ad.在什么上面；因此 (英语六级单词)
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章节正文
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