章节正文
General William Booth Enters into Heaven and Other Poems
by Vachel Lindsay
This book is dedicated to
Dr. Arthur Paul Wakefield
and
Olive Lindsay Wakefield
Missionaries in China
Contents
General William Booth Enters into Heaven
The Drunkards in the Street
The City That Will Not Repent
The Trap
Where is David, the Next King of Israel?
On Reading Omar Khayyam
The Beggar's Valentine
Honor Among Scamps
The Gamblers
On the Road to Nowhere
Upon Returning to the Country Road
The Angel and the Clown
Springfield Magical
Incense
The Wedding of the Rose and the Lotos
King Arthur's Men Have Come Again
Foreign Missions in Battle Array
Star of My Heart
Look You, I'll Go Pray
At Mass
Heart of God
The Empty Boats
With a Bouquet of Twelve Roses
St. Francis of Assisi
Buddha
A Prayer to All the Dead Among Mine Own People
To Reformers in Despair
Why I Voted the Socialist Ticket
To the United States Senate
The Knight in Disguise
The Wizard in the Street
The Eagle that is Forgotten
Shakespeare
Michelangelo
Titian
Lincoln
The Cornfields
Sweet Briars of the Stairways
Fantasies and Whims: --
The Fairy Bridal Hymn
The Potato's Dance
How a Little Girl Sang
Ghosts in Love
The Queen of Bubbles
The Tree of Laughing Bells, or The Wings of the Morning
Sweethearts of the Year
The Sorceress!
Caught in a Net
Eden in Winter
Genesis
Queen Mab in the Village
The Dandelion
The Light o' the Moon
A Net to Snare the Moonlight
Beyond the Moon
The Song of the Garden-Toad
A Gospel of Beauty: --
The Proud Farmer
The Illinois Village
On the Building of Springfield
General William Booth Enters into Heaven
[To be sung to the tune of `The Blood of the Lamb' with indicated instrument]
I
[Bass drum beaten loudly.]
Booth led boldly with his big bass drum --
(Are you washed in the blood of the Lamb?)
The Saints smiled gravely and they said: "He's come."
(Are you washed in the blood of the Lamb?)
Walking lepers followed, rank on rank,
Lurching bravoes from the ditches dank,
Drabs from the alleyways and drug fiends pale --
Minds still passion-ridden, soul-powers frail: --
Vermin-eaten saints with mouldy breath,
Unwashed legions with the ways of Death --
(Are you washed in the blood of the Lamb?)
[Banjos.]
Every slum had sent its half-a-score
The round world over. (Booth had groaned for more.)
Every banner that the wide world flies
Bloomed with glory and transcendent dyes.
Big-voiced lasses made their banjos bang,
Tranced, fanatical they shrieked and sang: --
"Are you washed in the blood of the Lamb?"
Hallelujah! It was queer to see
Bull-necked convicts with that land make free.
Loons with trumpets blowed a blare, blare, blare
On, on upward thro' the golden air!
(Are you washed in the blood of the Lamb?)
II
[Bass drum slower and softer.]
Booth died blind and still by Faith he trod,
Eyes still dazzled by the ways of God.
Booth led boldly, and he looked the chief
Eagle countenance in sharp relief,
Beard a-flying, air of high command
Unabated in that holy land.
[Sweet flute music.]
Jesus came from out the court-house door,
Stretched his hands above the passing poor.
Booth saw not, but led his queer ones there
Round and round the mighty court-house square.
Yet in an instant all that blear review
Marched on spotless, clad in raiment new.
The lame were straightened, withered limbs uncurled
And blind eyes opened on a new, sweet world.
[Bass drum louder.]
Drabs and vixens in a flash made whole!
Gone was the weasel-head, the snout, the jowl!
Sages and sibyls now, and athletes clean,
Rulers of empires, and of forests green!
[Grand chorus of all instruments. Tambourines to the foreground.]
The hosts were sandalled, and their wings were fire!
(Are you washed in the blood of the Lamb?)
But their noise played havoc with the angel-choir.
(Are you washed in the blood of the Lamb?)
O, shout Salvation! It was good to see
Kings and Princes by the Lamb set free.
The banjos rattled and the tambourines
Jing-jing-jingled in the hands of Queens.
[Reverently sung, no instruments.]
And when Booth halted by the curb for prayer
He saw his Master thro' the flag-filled air.
Christ came gently with a robe and crown
For Booth the soldier, while the throng knelt down.
He saw King Jesus. They were face to face,
And he knelt a-weeping in that holy place.
Are you washed in the blood of the Lamb?
The Drunkards in the Street
The Drunkards in the street are calling one another,
Heeding not the night-wind, great of heart and gay, --
Publicans and wantons --
Calling, laughing, calling,
While the Spirit bloweth Space and Time away.
Why should I feel the sobbing, the secrecy, the glory,
This comforter, this fitful wind divine?
I the cautious Pharisee, the scribe, the whited sepulchre --
I have no right to God, he is not mine.
* * * * *
Within their gutters, drunkards dream of Hell.
I say my prayers by my white bed to-night,
With the arms of God about me, with the angels singing, singing
Until the grayness of my soul grows white.
The City That Will Not Repent
Climbing the heights of Berkeley
Nightly I watch the West.
There lies new San Francisco,
Sea-maid in purple dressed,
Wearing a dancer's girdle
All to inflame desire:
Scorning her days of sackcloth,
Scorning her cleansing fire.
See, like a burning city
Sets now the red sun's dome.
See, mystic firebrands sparkle
There on each store and home.
See how the golden gateway
Burns with the day to be --
Torch-bearing fiends of portent
Loom o'er the earth and sea.
Not by the earthquake daunted
Nor by new fears made tame,
Painting her face and laughing
Plays she a new-found game.
Here on her half-cool cinders
'Frisco abides in mirth,
Planning the wildest splendor
Ever upon the earth.
Here on this crumbling rock-ledge
'Frisco her all will stake,
Blowing her bubble-towers,
Swearing they will not break,
Rearing her Fair transcendent,
Singing with piercing art,
Calling to Ancient Asia,
Wooing young Europe's heart.
Here where her God has scourged her
Wantoning, singing sweet:
Waiting her mad bad lovers
Here by the judgment-seat!
'Frisco, God's doughty foeman,
Scorns and blasphemes him strong.
Tho' he again should smite her
She would not slack her song.
Nay, she would shriek and rally --
'Frisco would ten times rise!
Not till her last tower crumbles,
Not till her last rose dies,
Not till the coast sinks seaward,
Not till the cold tides beat
Over the high white Shasta,
'Frisco will cry defeat.
God loves this rebel city,
Loves foemen brisk and game,
by Vachel Lindsay
This book is dedicated to
Dr. Arthur Paul Wakefield
and
Olive Lindsay Wakefield
Missionaries in China
Contents
General William Booth Enters into Heaven
The Drunkards in the Street
The City That Will Not Repent
The Trap
Where is David, the Next King of Israel?
On Reading Omar Khayyam
The Beggar's Valentine
Honor Among Scamps
The Gamblers
On the Road to Nowhere
Upon Returning to the Country Road
The Angel and the Clown
Springfield Magical
Incense
The Wedding of the Rose and the Lotos
King Arthur's Men Have Come Again
Foreign Missions in Battle Array
Star of My Heart
Look You, I'll Go Pray
At Mass
Heart of God
The Empty Boats
With a Bouquet of Twelve Roses
St. Francis of Assisi
Buddha
A Prayer to All the Dead Among Mine Own People
To Reformers in Despair
Why I Voted the Socialist Ticket
To the United States Senate
The Knight in Disguise
The Wizard in the Street
The Eagle that is Forgotten
Shakespeare
Michelangelo
Titian
Lincoln
The Cornfields
Sweet Briars of the Stairways
Fantasies and Whims: --
The Fairy Bridal Hymn
The Potato's Dance
How a Little Girl Sang
Ghosts in Love
The Queen of Bubbles
The Tree of Laughing Bells, or The Wings of the Morning
Sweethearts of the Year
The Sorceress!
Caught in a Net
Eden in Winter
Genesis
Queen Mab in the Village
The Dandelion
The Light o' the Moon
A Net to Snare the Moonlight
Beyond the Moon
The Song of the Garden-Toad
A Gospel of Beauty: --
The Proud Farmer
The Illinois Village
On the Building of Springfield
General William Booth Enters into Heaven
[To be sung to the tune of `The Blood of the Lamb' with indicated instrument]
I
[Bass drum beaten loudly.]
Booth led boldly with his big bass drum --
(Are you washed in the blood of the Lamb?)
The Saints smiled gravely and they said: "He's come."
(Are you washed in the blood of the Lamb?)
Walking lepers followed, rank on rank,
Lurching bravoes from the ditches dank,
Drabs from the alleyways and drug fiends pale --
Minds still passion-ridden, soul-powers frail: --
Vermin-eaten saints with mouldy breath,
Unwashed legions with the ways of Death --
(Are you washed in the blood of the Lamb?)
[Banjos.]
Every slum had sent its half-a-score
The round world over. (Booth had groaned for more.)
Every banner that the wide world flies
Bloomed with glory and transcendent dyes.
Big-voiced lasses made their banjos bang,
Tranced, fanatical they shrieked and sang: --
"Are you washed in the blood of the Lamb?"
Hallelujah! It was queer to see
Bull-necked convicts with that land make free.
Loons with trumpets blowed a blare, blare, blare
On, on upward thro' the golden air!
(Are you washed in the blood of the Lamb?)
II
[Bass drum slower and softer.]
Booth died blind and still by Faith he trod,
Eyes still dazzled by the ways of God.
Booth led boldly, and he looked the chief
Eagle countenance in sharp relief,
Beard a-flying, air of high command
Unabated in that holy land.
[Sweet flute music.]
Jesus came from out the court-house door,
Stretched his hands above the passing poor.
Booth saw not, but led his queer ones there
Round and round the mighty court-house square.
Yet in an instant all that blear review
Marched on spotless, clad in raiment new.
The lame were straightened, withered limbs uncurled
And blind eyes opened on a new, sweet world.
[Bass drum louder.]
Drabs and vixens in a flash made whole!
Gone was the weasel-head, the snout, the jowl!
Sages and sibyls now, and athletes clean,
Rulers of empires, and of forests green!
[Grand chorus of all instruments. Tambourines to the foreground.]
The hosts were sandalled, and their wings were fire!
(Are you washed in the blood of the Lamb?)
But their noise played havoc with the angel-choir.
(Are you washed in the blood of the Lamb?)
O, shout Salvation! It was good to see
Kings and Princes by the Lamb set free.
The banjos rattled and the tambourines
Jing-jing-jingled in the hands of Queens.
[Reverently sung, no instruments.]
And when Booth halted by the curb for prayer
He saw his Master thro' the flag-filled air.
Christ came gently with a robe and crown
For Booth the soldier, while the throng knelt down.
He saw King Jesus. They were face to face,
And he knelt a-weeping in that holy place.
Are you washed in the blood of the Lamb?
The Drunkards in the Street
The Drunkards in the street are calling one another,
Heeding not the night-wind, great of heart and gay, --
Publicans and wantons --
Calling, laughing, calling,
While the Spirit bloweth Space and Time away.
Why should I feel the sobbing, the secrecy, the glory,
This comforter, this fitful wind divine?
I the cautious Pharisee, the scribe, the whited sepulchre --
I have no right to God, he is not mine.
* * * * *
Within their gutters, drunkards dream of Hell.
I say my prayers by my white bed to-night,
With the arms of God about me, with the angels singing, singing
Until the grayness of my soul grows white.
The City That Will Not Repent
Climbing the heights of Berkeley
Nightly I watch the West.
There lies new San Francisco,
Sea-maid in purple dressed,
Wearing a dancer's girdle
All to inflame desire:
Scorning her days of sackcloth,
Scorning her cleansing fire.
See, like a burning city
Sets now the red sun's dome.
See, mystic firebrands sparkle
There on each store and home.
See how the golden gateway
Burns with the day to be --
Torch-bearing fiends of portent
Loom o'er the earth and sea.
Not by the earthquake daunted
Nor by new fears made tame,
Painting her face and laughing
Plays she a new-found game.
Here on her half-cool cinders
'Frisco abides in mirth,
Planning the wildest splendor
Ever upon the earth.
Here on this crumbling rock-ledge
'Frisco her all will stake,
Blowing her bubble-towers,
Swearing they will not break,
Rearing her Fair transcendent,
Singing with piercing art,
Calling to Ancient Asia,
Wooing young Europe's heart.
Here where her God has scourged her
Wantoning, singing sweet:
Waiting her mad bad lovers
Here by the judgment-seat!
'Frisco, God's doughty foeman,
Scorns and blasphemes him strong.
Tho' he again should smite her
She would not slack her song.
Nay, she would shriek and rally --
'Frisco would ten times rise!
Not till her last tower crumbles,
Not till her last rose dies,
Not till the coast sinks seaward,
Not till the cold tides beat
Over the high white Shasta,
'Frisco will cry defeat.
God loves this rebel city,
Loves foemen brisk and game,
- reading [´ri:diŋ]
n.(阅)读；朗读；读物 (初中英语单词) - wedding [´wediŋ] n.婚礼，结婚 (初中英语单词)
- illinois [,ili´nɔi] n.伊利诺斯 (初中英语单词)
- beaten [´bi:tn] beat 的过去分词 (初中英语单词)
- gravely [´greivli] ad.庄重地，严肃地 (初中英语单词)
- banner [´bænə] n.旗(帜)；头号标题 (初中英语单词)
- upward [´ʌpwəd] a.&ad.向上(的)；以上 (初中英语单词)
- countenance [´kauntinəns] n.面部表情；脸色；面容 (初中英语单词)
- instant [´instənt] a.立即的 n.紧迫；瞬间 (初中英语单词)
- chorus [´kɔ:rəs] n.合唱；齐声 v.合唱 (初中英语单词)
- gently [´dʒentli] ad.温和地；静静地 (初中英语单词)
- purple [´pə:pl] n.紫色 a.紫(红)的 (初中英语单词)
- shriek [ʃri:k] v.&n.尖叫(声) (初中英语单词)
- socialist [´səuʃəlist] n.社会主义者 (高中英语单词)
- knight [nait] n.骑士；爵士 (高中英语单词)
- gospel [´gɔspəl] n.福音；信条；真理 (高中英语单词)
- boldly [´bəuldli] ad.大胆地；醒目地 (高中英语单词)
- mighty [´maiti] a.强有力的 ad.很 (高中英语单词)
- throng [θrɔŋ] n.群众 v.拥挤；群集 (高中英语单词)
- earthquake [´ə:θkweik] n.地震；大变动 (高中英语单词)
- bouquet [bu:´kei] n.花束；恭维话 (英语四级单词)
- wizard [´wizəd] n.术士；男巫 (英语四级单词)
- bridal [´braidl] a.&n.婚礼(的) (英语四级单词)
- raiment [´reimənt] n.衣饰 (英语四级单词)
- secrecy [´si:krəsi] n.保密；秘密 (英语四级单词)
- comforter [´kʌmfətə] n.慰问者；毛围巾；圣灵 (英语四级单词)
- cautious [´kɔ:ʃəs] a.小心的；谨慎的 (英语四级单词)
- inflame [in´fleim] v.(使)发炎；恼火 (英语四级单词)
- calling [´kɔ:liŋ] n.点名；职业；欲望 (英语六级单词)
- mystic [´mistik] a.神秘的；难以理解的 (英语六级单词)
- piercing [´piəsiŋ] a.刺(贯)穿的；尖刻的 (英语六级单词)
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