« 上一頁繼續 »
'Tis not the loss of love's assurance,
It is not doubting what thou art,
Of absence, that afflicts my heart.
When each is lonely doomed to weep,
Or riches buried in the deep. What though, untouched by jealous madness,
Our bosom's peace may fall to wreck; Th' undoubting heart, that breaks with sadness,
Is but more slowly doomed to break. Absence! is not the soul torn by it
From more than light, or life, or breath? "Tis Lethe's gloom, but not its quiet
The pain without the peace of death!
WITHDRAW not yet those lips and fingers,
Whose touch to mine is rapture's spell;
And death seems in the word-farewell.
Flies like a courser nigh the goal;
soul? Our hearts shall beat, our tears shall flow, But not together-no, no, no!
THE LAST MAN.
All worldly shapes shall melt in gloom,
The Sun himself must die,
Adown the gulf of Time!
As Adam saw her prime'
The Earth with age was wan,
Around that lonely man!
In plague and famine some !
To shores where all was dumb!
With dauntless words and high, That shook the sere leaves from the wood
As if a storm passed by, Saying, We are twins in death, proud Sun, Thy face is cold, thy race is run,
'Tis Mercy bids thee go. For thou ten thousand thousand years Hast seen the tide of human tears,
That shall no longer flow. What though beneath thee man put forth
His pomp, his pride, his skill;
And arts that made fire, floods, and earth,
The vassals of his will ;
For all those trophied arts
Entailed on human hearts.
Upon the stage of men,
Life's tragedy again.
Of pain anew to writhe;
Like grass beneath the scythe.
To watch thy fading fire ;
Behold not me expire.
To see thou shalt not boast.
Receive my parting ghost ! This spirit shall return to Him
That gave its heavenly, spark;
When thou thyself art dark !
By him recalled to breath,
Who captive led captivity,
And took the sting from death!
On Nature's awful waste
Of grief that man shall taste,
On Earth's sepulchral clod,
Or shake his trust in God!
THE RITTER BANN.
THE Ritter Bann from Hungary
Came back, renowned in arms, But scorning jousts of chivalry
And love and ladies' charms. While other knights held revels, he
Was wrapt in thoughts of gloom,
Slow paced his lonely room,
Whose voice, he was aware,
In the holy house of prayer. 'Twas the Abbot of St. James's monks,
A fresh and fair old man; His reverend air arrested eria The gloomy Ritter Bann.
But seeing with him an ancient dame
Come clad in Scotch attire,
And loud he spoke in ire,
Name not her name to me;
Art poor?-take alms, and flee.”
“ This case your ear demands;" And the crone cried, with a cross enclosed
In both her trembling hands :
And he that shall rebut
Of Mercy shall be shut.
Your cousin Jane in Spring ;-
For Churchmen's pardoning,
Betrothed her to De Grey,
Was wrenched by force away.
Crying, 'Help me, nurse, to flee
But word arrived-ah me!
By foul means or by fair,
The seal on her despair