章节正文
Didn't ``hump'' her goods about.
Daphne by the fairy lake,
Far away from din and all,
Never ate a yard of snake,
Head and tail and skin and all.
Page: 205
A HYDE PARK LARRIKIN
Note:To the servants of God that are to be found in every denomination,
these verses, of course, do not apply
You may have heard of Proclus, sir,
If you have been a reader;
And you may know a bit of her
Who helped the Lycian leader.
I have my doubts - the head you ``sport''
(Now mark me, don't get crusty)
Is hardly of the classic sort -
Your lore, I think, is fusty.
Page: 206
Most likely you have stuck to tracts
Flushed through with flaming curses -
I judge you, neighbour, by your acts -
So don't you dn my verses.
But to my theme. The Asian sage,
Whose name above I mention,
Lived in the pitchy Pagan age,
A life without pretension.
He may have worshipped gods like Zeus,
And termed old Dis a master;
But then he had a strong excuse -
He never heard a pastor.
However, it occurs to me
That, had he cut Demeter
And followed you, or followed me,
He wouldn't have been sweeter.
Page: 207
No doubt with ``shepherds'' of this time
He's not the ``clean potato'',
Because - excuse me for my rhyme -
He pinned his faith to Plato.
But these are facts you can't deny,
My pastor, smudged and sooty,
His mind was like a summer sky -
He lived a life of beauty -
To lift his brothers' thoughts above
This earth he used to labour:
His heart was luminous with love -
He didn't wound his neighbour.
To him all men were just the same -
He never foamed at altars,
Although he lived ere Moody came -
Ere Sankey dealt in psalters.
Page: 208
The Lycian sage, my ``reverend'' sir,
Had not your chances ample;
But, after all, I must prefer
His perfect, pure example.
You, having read the Holy Writ -
The Book the angels foster -
Say have you helped us on a bit,
You overfed impostor?
What have you done to edify,
You clammy chapel tinker?
What act like his of days gone by -
The grand old Asian thinker?
Is there no deed of yours at all
With beauty shining through it?
Ah, no! your heart reveals its gall
On every side I view it.
Page: 209
A blatant bigot with a big
Fat heavy fetid carcass,
You well become your greasy ``rig'' -
You're not a second Arcas.
What sort of ``gospel'' do you preach?
What ``Bible'' is your Bible?
There's worse than wormwood in your speech,
You livid, living libel!
How many lives are growing gray
Through your depraved behaviour!
I tell you plainly - every day
You crucify the Saviour!
Some evil spirit curses you -
Your actions never vary:
You cannot point your finger to
One fact to the contrary.
Page: 210
You seem to have a wicked joy
In your malicious labour,
Endeavouring daily to destroy
The neighbour's love for neighbour.
The brutal curses you eject
Make strong men dread to hear you.
The world outside your petty sect
Feels sick when it is near you.
No man who shuns that little hole
You call your tabernacle
Can have, you shriek, a ransomed soul -
He wears the devil's shackle.
And, hence the ``Papist'' by your clan
Is dogged with words inhuman,
Because he loves that friend of man
The highest type of woman -
Page: 211
Because he has that faith which sees
Before the high Creator
A Virgin pleading on her knees -
A shining Mediator!
God help the souls who grope in night -
Who in your ways have trusted!
I've said enough! the more I write,
The more I feel disgusted.
The warm, soft air is tainted through
With your pernicious leaven.
I would not live one hour with you
In your peculiar heaven!
Now mount your musty pulpit - thump,
And muddle flat clodhoppers;
And let some long-eared booby ``hump''
The plate about for coppers.
Page: 212
At priest and parson spit and bark,
And shake your ``church'' with curses,
You bitter blackguard of the dark -
With this I close my verses.
Page: 213
NAMES UPON A STONE
(INSCRIBED TO G.L.FAGAN, ESQ.)
ACROSS bleak widths of broken sea
A fierce north-easter breaks,
And makes a thunder on the lea -
A whiteness of the lakes.
Here, while beyond the rainy stream
The wild winds sobbing blow,
I see the river of my dream
Four wasted years ago.
Page: 214
Narrara of the waterfalls,
The darling of the hills,
Whose home is under mountain walls
By many-luted rills!
Her bright green nooks and channels cool
I never more may see;
But, ah! the Past was beautiful -
The sights that used to be.
There was a rock-pool in a glen
Beyond Narrara's sands;
The mountains shut it in from men
In flowerful fairy lands;
But once we found its dwelling-place -
The lovely and the lone -
And, in a dream, I stooped to trace
Our names upon a stone.
Page: 215
Above us, where the star-like moss
Shone on the wet, green wall
That spanned the straitened stream across,
We saw the waterfall -
A silver singer far away,
By folded hills and hoar;
Its voice is in the woods to-day -
A voice I hear no more.
I wonder if the leaves that screen
The rock-pool of the past
Are yet as soft and cool and green
As when we saw them last!
I wonder if that tender thing,
The moss, has overgrown
The letters by the limpid spring -
Our names upon the stone!
Page: 216
Across the face of scenes we know
There may have come a change -
The places seen four years ago
Perhaps would now look strange.
To you, indeed, they cannot be
What haply once they were:
A friend beloved by you and me
No more will greet us there.
Because I know the filial grief
That shrinks beneath the touch -
The noble love whose words are brief -
I will not say too much;
But often when the night-winds strike
Across the sighing rills,
I think of him whose life was like
The rock-pool's in the hills.
Page: 217
A beauty like the light of song
Is in my dreams, that show
The grand old man who lived so long
As spotless as the snow.
A fittinggarland for the dead
I cannot compass yet;
But many things he did and said
I never will forget.
In dells where once we used to rove
The slow, sad water grieves;
And ever comes from glimmering grove
The liturgy of leaves.
But time and toil have marked my face,
My heart has older grown
Daphne by the fairy lake,
Far away from din and all,
Never ate a yard of snake,
Head and tail and skin and all.
Page: 205
A HYDE PARK LARRIKIN
Note:To the servants of God that are to be found in every denomination,
these verses, of course, do not apply
You may have heard of Proclus, sir,
If you have been a reader;
And you may know a bit of her
Who helped the Lycian leader.
I have my doubts - the head you ``sport''
(Now mark me, don't get crusty)
Is hardly of the classic sort -
Your lore, I think, is fusty.
Page: 206
Most likely you have stuck to tracts
Flushed through with flaming curses -
I judge you, neighbour, by your acts -
So don't you dn my verses.
But to my theme. The Asian sage,
Whose name above I mention,
Lived in the pitchy Pagan age,
A life without pretension.
He may have worshipped gods like Zeus,
And termed old Dis a master;
But then he had a strong excuse -
He never heard a pastor.
However, it occurs to me
That, had he cut Demeter
And followed you, or followed me,
He wouldn't have been sweeter.
Page: 207
No doubt with ``shepherds'' of this time
He's not the ``clean potato'',
Because - excuse me for my rhyme -
He pinned his faith to Plato.
But these are facts you can't deny,
My pastor, smudged and sooty,
His mind was like a summer sky -
He lived a life of beauty -
To lift his brothers' thoughts above
This earth he used to labour:
His heart was luminous with love -
He didn't wound his neighbour.
To him all men were just the same -
He never foamed at altars,
Although he lived ere Moody came -
Ere Sankey dealt in psalters.
Page: 208
The Lycian sage, my ``reverend'' sir,
Had not your chances ample;
But, after all, I must prefer
His perfect, pure example.
You, having read the Holy Writ -
The Book the angels foster -
Say have you helped us on a bit,
You overfed impostor?
What have you done to edify,
You clammy chapel tinker?
What act like his of days gone by -
The grand old Asian thinker?
Is there no deed of yours at all
With beauty shining through it?
Ah, no! your heart reveals its gall
On every side I view it.
Page: 209
A blatant bigot with a big
Fat heavy fetid carcass,
You well become your greasy ``rig'' -
You're not a second Arcas.
What sort of ``gospel'' do you preach?
What ``Bible'' is your Bible?
There's worse than wormwood in your speech,
You livid, living libel!
How many lives are growing gray
Through your depraved behaviour!
I tell you plainly - every day
You crucify the Saviour!
Some evil spirit curses you -
Your actions never vary:
You cannot point your finger to
One fact to the contrary.
Page: 210
You seem to have a wicked joy
In your malicious labour,
Endeavouring daily to destroy
The neighbour's love for neighbour.
The brutal curses you eject
Make strong men dread to hear you.
The world outside your petty sect
Feels sick when it is near you.
No man who shuns that little hole
You call your tabernacle
Can have, you shriek, a ransomed soul -
He wears the devil's shackle.
And, hence the ``Papist'' by your clan
Is dogged with words inhuman,
Because he loves that friend of man
The highest type of woman -
Page: 211
Because he has that faith which sees
Before the high Creator
A Virgin pleading on her knees -
A shining Mediator!
God help the souls who grope in night -
Who in your ways have trusted!
I've said enough! the more I write,
The more I feel disgusted.
The warm, soft air is tainted through
With your pernicious leaven.
I would not live one hour with you
In your peculiar heaven!
Now mount your musty pulpit - thump,
And muddle flat clodhoppers;
And let some long-eared booby ``hump''
The plate about for coppers.
Page: 212
At priest and parson spit and bark,
And shake your ``church'' with curses,
You bitter blackguard of the dark -
With this I close my verses.
Page: 213
NAMES UPON A STONE
(INSCRIBED TO G.L.FAGAN, ESQ.)
ACROSS bleak widths of broken sea
A fierce north-easter breaks,
And makes a thunder on the lea -
A whiteness of the lakes.
Here, while beyond the rainy stream
The wild winds sobbing blow,
I see the river of my dream
Four wasted years ago.
Page: 214
Narrara of the waterfalls,
The darling of the hills,
Whose home is under mountain walls
By many-luted rills!
Her bright green nooks and channels cool
I never more may see;
But, ah! the Past was beautiful -
The sights that used to be.
There was a rock-pool in a glen
Beyond Narrara's sands;
The mountains shut it in from men
In flowerful fairy lands;
But once we found its dwelling-place -
The lovely and the lone -
And, in a dream, I stooped to trace
Our names upon a stone.
Page: 215
Above us, where the star-like moss
Shone on the wet, green wall
That spanned the straitened stream across,
We saw the waterfall -
A silver singer far away,
By folded hills and hoar;
Its voice is in the woods to-day -
A voice I hear no more.
I wonder if the leaves that screen
The rock-pool of the past
Are yet as soft and cool and green
As when we saw them last!
I wonder if that tender thing,
The moss, has overgrown
The letters by the limpid spring -
Our names upon the stone!
Page: 216
Across the face of scenes we know
There may have come a change -
The places seen four years ago
Perhaps would now look strange.
To you, indeed, they cannot be
What haply once they were:
A friend beloved by you and me
No more will greet us there.
Because I know the filial grief
That shrinks beneath the touch -
The noble love whose words are brief -
I will not say too much;
But often when the night-winds strike
Across the sighing rills,
I think of him whose life was like
The rock-pool's in the hills.
Page: 217
A beauty like the light of song
Is in my dreams, that show
The grand old man who lived so long
As spotless as the snow.
A fittinggarland for the dead
I cannot compass yet;
But many things he did and said
I never will forget.
In dells where once we used to rove
The slow, sad water grieves;
And ever comes from glimmering grove
The liturgy of leaves.
But time and toil have marked my face,
My heart has older grown
- chapel [´tʃæpəl]
n.小教堂 (初中英语单词) - plainly [´pleinli] ad.平坦地；简单地 (初中英语单词)
- wicked [´wikid] a.邪恶的；不道德的 (初中英语单词)
- shriek [ʃri:k] v.&n.尖叫(声) (初中英语单词)
- peculiar [pi´kju:liə] a.特有的；奇异的 (初中英语单词)
- priest [pri:st] n.教士；牧师；神父 (初中英语单词)
- fierce [fiəs] a.残忍的；强烈的 (初中英语单词)
- thunder [´θʌndə] n.雷 vi.打雷 vt.吼出 (初中英语单词)
- darling [´dɑ:liŋ] n.爱人 a.亲爱的 (初中英语单词)
- stream [stri:m] n.河 vi.流出；飘扬 (初中英语单词)
- singer [´siŋə] n.歌手，演唱者 (初中英语单词)
- beloved [bi´lʌvd] a.为....所爱的 n.爱人 (初中英语单词)
- compass [´kʌmpəs] n.指南针；圆规 (初中英语单词)
- classic [´klæsik] a.第一流的 n.杰作 (高中英语单词)
- pastor [´pɑ:stə] n.牧师 (高中英语单词)
- foster [´fɔstə] vt.促进；推动；鼓励 (高中英语单词)
- virgin [´və:dʒin] a.处女(般)的 n.处女 (高中英语单词)
- parson [´pɑ:sən] n.教区牧师 (高中英语单词)
- waterfall [´wɔ:təfɔ:l] n.瀑布 (高中英语单词)
- garland [´gɑ:lənd] n.花环 vt.给带花环 (高中英语单词)
- flaming [´fleimiŋ] a.熊熊燃烧的；热情的 (英语四级单词)
- luminous [´lu:minəs] a.发光的；明晰的 (英语四级单词)
- brutal [´bru:tl] a.兽性的；残暴的 (英语四级单词)
- pulpit [´pulpit] n.讲坛 (英语四级单词)
- greasy [´gri:si] a.油腻的；润滑的 (英语六级单词)
- malicious [mə´liʃəs] a.恶意的；预谋的 (英语六级单词)
- pernicious [pə´niʃəs] a.有害的；有毒的；致命的 (英语六级单词)
- filial [´filiəl] a.子女的；孝顺的 (英语六级单词)
- fitting [´fitiŋ] a.适当的 n.试衣 (英语六级单词)
文章标签:名著
章节正文
京公网安备 11011202003401号
