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Time's Laughingstocks, and Other Verses
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She changed death-white, and heaved a cry: we’d never heard so grieved a cry
As came from her at this from him: heart-broken quite seemed she;
And suddenly, as we looked on, she turned, and rushed; and she was gone,
Whither, her husband, following after, knew not; nor knew we.
XI
We searched till dawn about the house; within the house, without the house,
We searched among the laurel boughs that grew beneath the wall,
And then among the crocks and things, and stores for winter junketings,
In linhay, loft, and dairy; but we found her not at all.
XII
Then John rushed in: “O friends,” he said, “hear this, this, this!” and bends his head:
“I’ve – searched round by the —well, and find the cover open wide!
I am fearful that – I can’t say what.. Bring lanterns, and some cords to knot.”
We did so, and we went and stood the deep dark hole beside.
XIII
And then they, ropes in hand, and I – ay, John, and all the band, and I
Let down a lantern to the depths – some hundred feet and more;
It glimmered like a fog-dimmed star; and there, beside its light, afar,
White drapery floated, and we knew the meaning that it bore.
XIV
The rest is naught.. We buried her o’ Sunday. Neighbours carried her;
And Swetman – he who’d married her – now miserablest of men,
Walked mourning first; and then walked John; just quivering, but composed anon;
And we the quire formed round the grave, as was the custom then.
XV
Our old bass player, as I recall – his white hair blown – but why recall! —
His viol upstrapped, bent figure – doomed to follow her full soon —
Stood bowing, pale and tremulous; and next to him the rest of us.
We sang the Ninetieth Psalm to her – set to Saint Stephen’s tune.
THE DEAD QUIRE
I
Beside the Mead of Memories,
Where Church-way mounts to Moaning Hill,
The sad man sighed his phantasies:
He seems to sigh them still.
II
“’Twas the Birth-tide Eve, and the hamleteers
Made merry with ancient Mellstock zest,
But the Mellstock quire of former years
Had entered into rest.
III
“Old Dewy lay by the gaunt yew tree,
And Reuben and Michael a pace behind,
And Bowman with his family
By the wall that the ivies bind.
IV
“The singers had followed one by one,
Treble, and tenor, and thorough-bass;
And the worm that wasteth had begun
To mine their mouldering place.
V
“For two-score years, ere Christ-day light,
Mellstock had throbbed to strains from these;
But now there echoed on the night
No Christmas harmonies.
VI
“Three meadows off, at a dormered inn,
The youth had gathered in high carouse,
And, ranged on settles, some therein
Had drunk them to a drowse.
VII
“Loud, lively, reckless, some had grown,
Each dandling on his jigging knee
Eliza, Dolly, Nance, or Joan —
Livers in levity.
VIII
“The taper flames and hearthfire shine
Grew smoke-hazed to a lurid light,
And songs on subjects not divine
Were warbled forth that night.
IX
As came from her at this from him: heart-broken quite seemed she;
And suddenly, as we looked on, she turned, and rushed; and she was gone,
Whither, her husband, following after, knew not; nor knew we.
XI
We searched till dawn about the house; within the house, without the house,
We searched among the laurel boughs that grew beneath the wall,
And then among the crocks and things, and stores for winter junketings,
In linhay, loft, and dairy; but we found her not at all.
XII
Then John rushed in: “O friends,” he said, “hear this, this, this!” and bends his head:
“I’ve – searched round by the —well, and find the cover open wide!
I am fearful that – I can’t say what.. Bring lanterns, and some cords to knot.”
We did so, and we went and stood the deep dark hole beside.
XIII
And then they, ropes in hand, and I – ay, John, and all the band, and I
Let down a lantern to the depths – some hundred feet and more;
It glimmered like a fog-dimmed star; and there, beside its light, afar,
White drapery floated, and we knew the meaning that it bore.
XIV
The rest is naught.. We buried her o’ Sunday. Neighbours carried her;
And Swetman – he who’d married her – now miserablest of men,
Walked mourning first; and then walked John; just quivering, but composed anon;
And we the quire formed round the grave, as was the custom then.
XV
Our old bass player, as I recall – his white hair blown – but why recall! —
His viol upstrapped, bent figure – doomed to follow her full soon —
Stood bowing, pale and tremulous; and next to him the rest of us.
We sang the Ninetieth Psalm to her – set to Saint Stephen’s tune.
THE DEAD QUIRE
I
Beside the Mead of Memories,
Where Church-way mounts to Moaning Hill,
The sad man sighed his phantasies:
He seems to sigh them still.
II
“’Twas the Birth-tide Eve, and the hamleteers
Made merry with ancient Mellstock zest,
But the Mellstock quire of former years
Had entered into rest.
III
“Old Dewy lay by the gaunt yew tree,
And Reuben and Michael a pace behind,
And Bowman with his family
By the wall that the ivies bind.
IV
“The singers had followed one by one,
Treble, and tenor, and thorough-bass;
And the worm that wasteth had begun
To mine their mouldering place.
V
“For two-score years, ere Christ-day light,
Mellstock had throbbed to strains from these;
But now there echoed on the night
No Christmas harmonies.
VI
“Three meadows off, at a dormered inn,
The youth had gathered in high carouse,
And, ranged on settles, some therein
Had drunk them to a drowse.
VII
“Loud, lively, reckless, some had grown,
Each dandling on his jigging knee
Eliza, Dolly, Nance, or Joan —
Livers in levity.
VIII
“The taper flames and hearthfire shine
Grew smoke-hazed to a lurid light,
And songs on subjects not divine
Were warbled forth that night.
IX
Другие электронные книги автора Томас Харди
Другие аудиокниги автора Томас Харди
Последний отзыв
Классная книга. Очень многое объясняет, что скрытое реально происходит в человеке