« 上一頁繼續 »
Let sea-discoverers to new worlds have gone, :
Let maps to others, worlds on worlds have shown,
Let us possess one world-each hath one, and is one.
My face in thine eye, thine in mine appears,
And true plain hearts do in the faces rest; .
Where can we find two fitter hemispheres,
Without sharp North, without declining West?
Whatever dies was not mix'd equally;
If our two loves be one, both thou and I
Love just alike in all, and such loves never die."
The following, though not entirely without the faults of his style, is exceedingly graceful and elegant:
“ The Dream.
“ Dear love, for nothing less than thee ,
Would I have broke this happy dream;
It was a theme
For reason, much too strong for phantasy ;
Therefore thou wak’dst me wisely; yet
My dream thou brok’st not, but continued it.
Thou art so true, that thoughts of thee suffice
To make dreams truths, and fables histories.
As lightning, or a taper's light,
Thine eyes, and not thy noise, wak'd me;
Yet I thought thee ?
(For thou lov'st truth) an angel, at first sight;
But when I saw thou saw'st my heart,
And knew'st my thoughts, beyond an angel's art,
When thou knew'st what I dreamt, when thou knew'st when
Excess of joy would wake me, and came then,
I must confess it could not chuse but be
Profane to think thee any thing but thee.” What follows is extremely solemn and fine, and scarcely at all disfigured by the author's characteristic faults :
.. “ The Apparition.
“ When by thy scorn, O murderess, I am dead,
And that thou thinkest thee free
From all solicitation from me,
Then shall my ghost come to thy bed,
And thee (fain'd vestal) in worse arms shall see.
Then thy sick taper will begin to wink,
And he, whose thou art then, being tired before,
Will, if thou stir, or pinch to wake him, think
Thou call'st for more,
And in false sleep from thee shrink;
And then, poor aspen wretch, neglected thou,
Bathed in a cold quicksilver sweat, wilt lie,
A verier ghost than I.
What I will say, I will not tell thee now, .
Lest that preserve thee. And since my love is spent,
I had rather thou should'st painfully repent,
Than by my threatenings rest still innocent.”
The next specimens that we shall give of this singular writer will be taken from among those of his poems which unite, in a nearly equal proportion, his characteristic faults and beauties; and which may be considered as scarcely less worthy of attention than the foregoing, partly on account of that very union of opposite qualities, but chiefly on account of their remarkable fullness of thought and imagery; in which, indeed, his very worst pieces abound to overflowing.
Notwithstanding the extravagance, as well as the ingenuity, which characterise the two following pieces, there is an air of sincerity about them, which renders their general effect impressive, and even solemn; to say nothing of their individual beauties, both of thought and expression.
· 10" The Anniversary.
“ All kings, and all their favourites ;
All glory of honours, beauties, wits ;
The sun itself, which makes times, as these pass,
Is elder by a year now than it was
When thou and I first one another saw...
All other things to their destruction draw:
Only our love hath no decay;
This, no to-morrow hath, nor yesterday;
But truly keeps his first, last, everlasting day.
Two graves must hide thine and my corse;
If one might, death were no divorce.
Alas! as well as other princes, we
(Who prince enough in one another be)
Must leave at last in death these eyes and ears,
Oft fed with true oaths, and with sweet salt tears.
But souls where nothing dwells but love, (All other thoughts being inmates) then shall prove, When bodies to their graves, souls from their graves remove.
And then we shall be thoro’ly blest;
But now, no more than all the rest.
Here upon earth we are kings, and none but we
Can be such kings, nor of such subjects be.
Who is so safe as we ?--where none can do
Treason to us, except one of us two.
True and false fears let us refrain;
Let us love nobly, and live, and add again
Years and years unto years, till we attain
Unto threescore: this is the second of our reign.”
“I scarce believe my love to be so pure
As I had thought it was,
Because it doth endure
Vicissitude and season, as the grass.
Methinks I lied all winter when I swore
My love was infinite, if Spring can make it more.
But if this med'cine, Love, which cures all sorrow
With more, not only be no quintessence,
But mixt of all stuffs,—vexing soul or sense,
And of the Sun his active vigour borrow,-
Love's not so fine and abstract as they use
To say, which have no mistress but their muse;
But as all else being elemented too,
Love sometimes would contemplate, sometimes do.
And yet no greater, but more eminent,
Love by the spring is grown;
As in the firmament
Stars by the sun are not enlarg'd, but shown.
Gentle love-deeds, as blossoms on a bough,
From Love's awaken'd root do bud out now.
If, as in water stirr'd more circles be
Produc'd by one, Love such additions take,
Those, like so many spheres, but one heaven make,
For they are all concentrique unto thee.
And though each spring do add to love new heat,
(As princes do in times of action get
The reader will not fail to observe the occasional obscurities which arise out of the extreme condensation of expression in the foregoing pieces, and in most of those which follow. These passages may always be unravelled by a little attention, and they seldom fail to repay the trouble bestowed upon them. But they must be regarded as unequivocal faults nevertheless.
The following is, doubtless, "high-fantastical,” in the last degree; but it is fine notwithstanding, and an evidence of something more than mere ingenuity.
“ Let me pour forth
My tears before thy face, whilst I stay here;
For thy face coins them, and thy stamp they bear;
And by this mintage they are something worth ;
For thus they be
Pregnant of thee,
Fruits of much grief they are, emblems of more:
When a tear falls, then thou fáll’st which it bore:
So thou and I are nothing then, when on a diverse shore.
On a round ball
A workman (that hath copies by) can lay
An Europe, Afrique, and an Asia,
And quickly make that, which was nothing, all:
So doth each tear,
Which thee doth wear,
A globe, yea world, by that impression grow; .'
Till thy tears, mixt with mine, do overflow
This world, by waters sent from thee-my heaven dissolved so.
O, more than moon,
Draw not up seas to drown me in thy sphere !
Weep me not dead in thine arms, but forbear
To teach the sea what it may do too soon.
Let not the wind
To do me more harm than it purposeth;
Since thou and I sigh one-another's breath,
Whoe'er sighs most is cruellest, and hastes the other's death."
The feelings which dictated such poetry as this, (for it is poetry, and nothing but real feelings could dictate it,) must have pierced deeper than the surface of both the heart and the
imagination. In fact, they wanted nothing but to have been excited under more fayourable circumstances, to have made them well-springs of the richest poetry uttering itself in the rarest words. indiferents write ringen
For clearness of expression, melody of versification, and a çertain wayward simplicity of thought peculiarly appropriate to such compositions as these, the most successful of our modern lyrists might envy the following trifle : r;. .;,..
: The Neder ..! i ; O ro ? .. sele “ The Message.
“ Send home my long stray'd eyes to me,
Which (oh) too long have dwelt on thee:
Yet since there they have learn'd such ill-
Such forced fashions,
And false passions,
That they be
Made by me
Fit for no good sight-keep them still !-
Send home my harmless heart again,
Which no unworthy thought could stain :
*But if it be taught by thine
To make jestings
And break both
Word and oath,-
Keep it,--for then 'tis none of mine!
Yet send me back both heart and eyes,
That I may know and see thy lies,
And may laugh and joy when thou
"Art in anguish,
And dost languish
For some one .: That will none, Or prove as false as thou art now.” Perhaps the two short pieces which follow, include all the characteristics of Donne's style--beauties as well as faults.
. *** A Lecture.
“Stand still, and I will read to thee
A lecture, Love, in Love's philosophy.
i. These three hours that we have spent
Walking here, two shadows went ist Along with us, which we ourselves produced.