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Poems and Songs-Part6_Henry Kendall(1839-1882)_English Literature(文学名著)-第2页

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For the tracks of the wild Kangaroo!

We will merrily pass,



Looking down to the grass

For the tracks of the wild Kangaroo.



Ho, brothers, away to the woods;

Euroka hath clambered the hill;



But the morning there seldom intrudes,

Where the night-shadows slumber on still.



We will roam o'er these forest-lands wild,

And thread the dark masses of vines,



Where the winds, like the voice of a child,

Are singing aloft in the pines.



We must keep down the glee of our hounds;

We must steal through the glittering dew;



And the breezes shall sleep as we cautiously creep

To the haunts of the wild Kangaroo.



And the breezes shall sleep,

As we cautiously creep



To the haunts of the wild Kangaroo.

When we pass through a stillness like death



The swamp fowl and timorous quail,

Like the leaves in a hurricane's breath,



Will start from their nests in the vale;

And the forester,* snuffing the air,



Will bound from his covert so dark,

While we follow along in the rear,



As arrows speed on to their mark!

Then the swift hounds shall bring him to bay,



And we'll send forth a hearty halloo,

As we gather them all to be in at the fall -



At the death of the wild Kangaroo!

As we gather them all



To be in at the fall -

At the death of the wild Kangaroo!



Note:*The Kangaroo

Page: 33



CLARI

TOO cold, O my brother, too cold for my wife



Is the Beauty you showed me this morning:

Nor yet have I found the sweet dream of my life,



And good-bye to the sneering and scorning.

Would you have me cast down in the dark of her frown,



Like others who bend at her shrine;

And would barter their souls for a statue-like face,



And a heart that can never be mine?

That can never be theirs nor mine.



Go after her, look at her, kneel at her feet,

And mimic the lover romantic;



I have hated deceit, and she misses the treat

Of driving me hopelessly frantic!



Now watch her, as deep in her carriage she lies,

And love her, my friend, if you dare!



She would wither your life with her beautiful eyes,

And strangle your soul with her hair!



With a mesh of her splendid hair.

WOLLONGONG



LET me talk of years evanished, let me harp upon the time

When we trod these sands together, in our boyhood's golden prime;



Let me lift again the curtain, while I gaze upon the past,

As the sailor glances homewards, watching from the topmost mast.



Here we rested on the grasses, in the glorious summer hours,

When the waters hurriedseaward, fringed with ferns and forest flowers;



When our youthful eyes, rejoicing, saw the sunlight round the spray

In a rainbow-wreath of splendour, glittering underneath the day;



Sunlight flashing past the billows, falling cliffs and crags among,

Clothing hopeful friendship basking on the shores of Wollongong.



Page: 34

Echoes of departed voices, whispers from forgotten dreams,



Come across my spirit, like the murmurs of melodious streams.




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