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Late Lyrics and Earlier, With Many Other Verses
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Like mushroom balls on grassy ground.
– But all is dream!
O God, that creatures framed to feel
A yearning nature’s strong appeal
Should writhe on this eternal wheel
In rayless grime;
And vainly note, with wan regret,
Each star of early promise set;
Till Death relieves, and they forget
Their one Life’s time!
Westbourne Park Villas, 1866.
A MAIDEN’S PLEDGE
(SONG)
I do not wish to win your vow
To take me soon or late as bride,
And lift me from the nook where now
I tarry your farings to my side.
I am blissful ever to abide
In this green labyrinth – let all be,
If but, whatever may betide,
You do not leave off loving me!
Your comet-comings I will wait
With patience time shall not wear through;
The yellowing years will not abate
My largened love and truth to you,
Nor drive me to complaint undue
Of absence, much as I may pine,
If never another ’twixt us two
Shall come, and you stand wholly mine.
THE CHILD AND THE SAGE
You say, O Sage, when weather-checked,
“I have been favoured so
With cloudless skies, I must expect
This dash of rain or snow.”
“Since health has been my lot,” you say,
“So many months of late,
I must not chafe that one short day
Of sickness mars my state.”
You say, “Such bliss has been my share
From Love’s unbroken smile,
It is but reason I should bear
A cross therein awhile.”
And thus you do not count upon
Continuance of joy;
But, when at ease, expect anon
A burden of annoy.
But, Sage – this Earth – why not a place
Where no reprisals reign,
Where never a spell of pleasantness
Makes reasonable a pain?
December 21, 1908.
MISMET
I
He was leaning by a face,
He was looking into eyes,
And he knew a trysting-place,
And he heard seductive sighs;
But the face,
And the eyes,
And the place,
And the sighs,
Were not, alas, the right ones – the ones meet for him —
Though fine and sweet the features, and the feelings all abrim.
II
She was looking at a form,
She was listening for a tread,
She could feel a waft of charm
When a certain name was said;
But the form,
And the tread,
And the charm
Of name said,
Were the wrong ones for her, and ever would be so,
While the heritor of the right it would have saved her soul to know!
AN AUTUMN RAIN-SCENE
There trudges one to a merry-making
With a sturdy swing,
On whom the rain comes down.
– But all is dream!
O God, that creatures framed to feel
A yearning nature’s strong appeal
Should writhe on this eternal wheel
In rayless grime;
And vainly note, with wan regret,
Each star of early promise set;
Till Death relieves, and they forget
Their one Life’s time!
Westbourne Park Villas, 1866.
A MAIDEN’S PLEDGE
(SONG)
I do not wish to win your vow
To take me soon or late as bride,
And lift me from the nook where now
I tarry your farings to my side.
I am blissful ever to abide
In this green labyrinth – let all be,
If but, whatever may betide,
You do not leave off loving me!
Your comet-comings I will wait
With patience time shall not wear through;
The yellowing years will not abate
My largened love and truth to you,
Nor drive me to complaint undue
Of absence, much as I may pine,
If never another ’twixt us two
Shall come, and you stand wholly mine.
THE CHILD AND THE SAGE
You say, O Sage, when weather-checked,
“I have been favoured so
With cloudless skies, I must expect
This dash of rain or snow.”
“Since health has been my lot,” you say,
“So many months of late,
I must not chafe that one short day
Of sickness mars my state.”
You say, “Such bliss has been my share
From Love’s unbroken smile,
It is but reason I should bear
A cross therein awhile.”
And thus you do not count upon
Continuance of joy;
But, when at ease, expect anon
A burden of annoy.
But, Sage – this Earth – why not a place
Where no reprisals reign,
Where never a spell of pleasantness
Makes reasonable a pain?
December 21, 1908.
MISMET
I
He was leaning by a face,
He was looking into eyes,
And he knew a trysting-place,
And he heard seductive sighs;
But the face,
And the eyes,
And the place,
And the sighs,
Were not, alas, the right ones – the ones meet for him —
Though fine and sweet the features, and the feelings all abrim.
II
She was looking at a form,
She was listening for a tread,
She could feel a waft of charm
When a certain name was said;
But the form,
And the tread,
And the charm
Of name said,
Were the wrong ones for her, and ever would be so,
While the heritor of the right it would have saved her soul to know!
AN AUTUMN RAIN-SCENE
There trudges one to a merry-making
With a sturdy swing,
On whom the rain comes down.
Другие электронные книги автора Томас Харди
Другие аудиокниги автора Томас Харди
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