« 上一頁繼續 »
Joy sparkled in the prancing Courser's eyes;
A rout this morning left Sir Walter's Hall,
Sir Walter, restless as a veering wind,
The Knight hallooed, he chid and cheered them on With suppliant gestures and upbraidings stern; But breath and eye-sight fail; and, one by one, The Dogs are stretched among the mountain fern.
Where is the throng, the tumult of the race?
poor Hart toils along the mountain side;
Dismounting then, he leaned against a thorn;
Close to the thorn on which Sir Walter leaned,
Upon his side the Hart was lying stretched:
And now, too happy for repose or rest, (Was never man in such a joyful case !)
Sir Walter walked all round, north, south, and west, And gazed and gazed upon that darling place.
And climbing up the hill-(it was at least
Nine roods of sheer ascent) Sir Walter found Three several hoof-marks which the hunted Beast Had left imprinted on the verdant ground.
Sir Walter wiped his face and cried,
Such sight was never seen by living eyes:
Three leaps have borne him from this lofty brow,
Down to the very fountain where he lies.
I'll build a Pleasure-house upon this spot,
And a small Arbour, made for rural joy; "Twill be the Traveller's shed, the Pilgrim's cot, A place of love for Damsels that are coy.
A cunning Artist will I have to frame
A bason for that Fountain in the dell ;
And they who do make mention of the same From this day forth, shall call it HART-LEAP WELL.
And, gallant brute! to make thy praises known,
And in the summer-time when days are long,
I will come hither with my Paramour ;
Till the foundations of the mountains fail
My Mansion with its Arbour shall endure ;
Then home he went, and left the Hart, stone-dead, With breathless nostrils stretched above the spring. And soon the Knight performed what he had said, The fame whereof through many a land did ring..
Ere thrice the moon into her port had steered,
And near the fountain, flowers of stature tall