Изображения страниц
PDF
EPUB

Where early violets die
Under the willow.

Eleu loro !
Soft shall be his pillow.

10

15

There, through the summer day,

Cool streams are laving : There, while the tempests sway,

Scarce are boughs waving ; There thy rest shalt thou take,

Parted for ever, Never again to wake, Never, O never !

Eleu loro ! Never, O never !

20

25

Where shall the traitor rest,

He, the deceiver,
Who could win maiden's breast,

Ruin, and leave her ?
In the lost battle,

Borne down by the flying,
Where mingles war's rattle
With groans of the dying ;

Eleu loro !
There shall he be lying.

30

Her wing shall the eagle flap

O'er the falsehearted ;
His warm blood the wolf shall lap

Ere life be parted :
Shame and dishonour sit

35
By his grave ever ;
Blessing shall hallow it
Never, O never !

Eleu loro !
Never, O never !

40 SIR W. SCOTT.

193

LA BELLE DAME SANS MERCI

[merged small][merged small][ocr errors]

• O what can ail thee, knight-at-arms,

Alone and palely loitering ?
The sedge has wither'd from the Lake,

And no birds sing.
O what can ail thee, knight-at-arms !

So haggard and so woebegone ?
The squirrel's granary is full,

And the harvest's done. 'I see a lily on thy brow

With anguish moist and fever dew, And on thy cheeks a fading rose

Fast withereth too.'
'I met a Lady in the Meads,

Full beautiful- a fairy's child,
Her hair was long, her foot was light,

And her eyes were wild.
I made a garland for her head,

And bracelets too, and fragrant zone ;
She look'd at me as she did love,

And made sweet moan. ' I set her on my pacing steed

And nothing else saw all day long, For sidelong would she bend, and sing

A fairy's song. "She found me roots of relish sweet,

And honey wild and manna dew, And sure in language strange she said

"I love thee true.'s

15

20

25

30

She took me to her elfin grot,

And there she wept, and sigh'd full sore, And there I shut her wild wild eyes

With kisses four.

. And there she lulled me asleep,

And there I dream'd-Ah! woe betide ! The latest dream I ever dreamt

On the cold hill side.

35

'I saw pale Kings and Princes too,

Pale warriors, death-pale were they all ; They cried—“La belle Dame sans Merci Thee hath in thrall ! "

40

' I saw their starved lips in the gloam

With horrid warning gapéd wide, And I awoke and found me here

On the cold hill's side.

45

And this is why I sojourn here

Alone and palely loitering Though the sedge is wither'd from the Lake And no birds sing.'

J. KEATS.

194

5

THE ROVER
• A weary lot is thine, fair maid,

A weary lot is thine !
To pull the thorn thy brow to braid,

And press the rue for wine.
A lightsome eye, a soldier's mien,

A feather of the blue,
A doublet of the Lincoln green-
No more of me you knew

My Love!
No more of me you knew.
* This morn is merry June, I trow,

The rose is budding fain;
But she shall bloom in winter snow

Ere we two meet again.'
He turn’d his charger as he spake

Upon the river shore,

10

15

He gave his bridle-reins a shake,
Said ' Adieu for evermore

My Love !
And adieu for evermore.'

20 SIR W. SCOTT.

5

195 THE FLIGHT OF LOVE When the lamp is shattered,

The light in the dust lies deadWhen the cloud is scattered,

The rainbow's glory is shed. When the lute is broken,

Sweet tones are remembered not ;
When the lips have spoken,

Loved accents are soon forgot.
As music and splendour
Survive not the lamp and the lute,

10 The heart's echoes render

No song when the spirit is muteNo song but sad dirges,

Like the wind through a ruined cell, Or the mournful surges

That ring the dead seaman's knell.
When hearts have once mingled,

Love first leaves the well-built nest ;
The weak one is singled
To endure what it once possest.

20 O Love! who bewailest

The frailty of all things here, Why choose you the frailest

For your cradle, your home, and your bier ? Its passions will rock thee

As the storms rock the ravens on high ; Bright reason will mock thee

Like the sun from a wintry sky.

15

25

From thy nest every rafter
Will rot, and thine eagle home

30 Leave thee naked to laughter, When leaves fall and cold winds come.

P. B. SIIELLEY.

196

THE MAID OF NEIDPATH

5

10

O lovers' eyes are sharp to see,

And lovers' ears in hearing ; And love, in life's extremity,

Can lend an hour of cheering.
Disease had been in Mary's bower

And slow decay from mourning,
Though now she sits on Neidpath's tower

To watch her love's returning.
All sunk and dim her eyes so bright,

Her form decay'd by pining,
Till through her wasted hand, at night,

You saw the taper shining.
By fits a sultry hectic hue

Across her cheek was flying ; By fits so ashy pale she grew

Her maidens thought her dying. Yet keenest powers to see and hear

Seem'd in her frame residing ;
Before the watch-dog prick'd his ear

She heard her lover's riding ;
Ere scarce a distant form was kenn'd

She knew and waved to greet him,
And o'er the battlement did bend

As on the wing to meet him.
He came—he pass'dan heedless gaze,

As o'er some stranger glancing ;
Her welcome, spoke in faltering phrase,

Lost in his courser's prancing

15

20

25

« ПредыдущаяПродолжить »