« 上一页继续 »
NIGHT AND DEATH.
Who speaks through the dark night,
And lull of the wind ? 'Tis the sound of the pine-leaves
And sea-waves behind !
The dead girl is silent
I stand by her now,
Nor crimsons her brow.
The small hand that trembled
When last in my own, Lies patient and folded,
And colder than stone.
Like the white blossoms falling
To-night in the gale, So she in her beauty
Sank mournful and pale.
Yet I loved her! I utter
Such words by her grave, As I would not have spoken
Her last breath to save.
Of her love the angels .
In heaven might tell,
With shudders in hell !
'Twas well that the white ones,
Who bore her to bliss,
The visions of this;
Else, sure as I stand here,
And speak of my love,
ELIZABETH H. WHITTIER.
THE ECHO SPIRIT.
CHEQUERED with woven shadows as I lay
WILLIAM ALLINGHAM. CALM.
'Tis a dull, sullen day, — the dull beach o'er
In rippling curves the ebbing ocean flows; Along each tiny crest that nears the shore
A line of soft green shadow rises, glides, and goes.
The tide recedes, — the flat smooth beach grows bare,
More faint the low sweet plashing on my ears, Yet still I watch the dimpling shadows fair,
As each is born, glides, pauses, disappears.
What channel needs our faith, except the eyes ?
God leaves no spot of earth unglorified; Profuse and wasteful, lovelinesses rise ;
New beauties dawn before the old have died.
Trust thou thy joys in keeping of the Power
Who holds these faint soft shadows in His hand; Believe and live, and know that hour by hour
Will ripple newer beauty to thy strand.
The swallow with summer
Will wing o'er the seas, The wind that I sigh to
Will visit thy trees, The ship that it hastens
Thy ports will contain, But me — I must never
See England again!
There's many that weep there,
But one weeps alone,
So far from her own;
We know not our pain ; If death is between us,
Or only the main.
When the white cloud reclines
On the verge of the sea, I fancy the white cliffs,
And dream upon thee;
THE TWO OCEANS.
But the cloud spreads its wings
To the blue heaven and flies.
Except in the skies !
THE TWO OCEANS.
Two seas amid the night
In the moonshine roll and sparkle, Now spread in the silver light,
Now sadden, and wail, and darkle.
The one has a billowy motion,
And from land to land it gleams; The other is Sleep's wide ocean,
And its glimmering waves are dreams.
The one with murmur and roar
Bears fleets round coast and islet; The other, without a shore, · Ne'er knew the track of a pilot.