« ElőzőTovább »
At bughts, in the morning, nae blythe lads are scorning;
Nae daffing, nae gabbing, but sighing and sabbing ;
In har'st, at the shearing, nae youths now are jeering,
At fair, or at preaching, nae wooing, nae fleeching ;
At e'en, in the gloaming, nae younkers are roaming
Dool and wae for the order, sent our lads to the Border!
The Flowers o' the Forest, that fought aye the foremost
THE skies they were ashen and sober;
Here once, through an alley Titanic
Of cypress, I roamed with my Soul,—
These were days when my heart was volcanic
1 Partly traditional.
As the scoriac rivers that roll,-
Our talk had been serious and sober,
But our thoughts they were palsied and sere,—— Our memories were treacherous and sere ; For we knew not the month was October, And we marked not the night of the year (Ah, night of all nights in the year!) We noted not the dim lake of Auber
(Though once we had journeyed down here), Remembered not the dank tarn of Auber,
Nor the ghoul-haunted woodland of Weir.
And now, as the night was senescent,
And I said, 'She is warmer than Dian :
She has seen that the tears are not dry on
To shine on us with her bright eyes;
But Psyche, uplifting her finger,
Said Sadly, this star I mistrust-
Oh, fly let us fly !-for we must.'
Wings until they trailed in the dustIn agony sobbed, letting sink her
Plumes till they trailed in the dustTill they sorrowfully trailed in the dust.
I replied "This is nothing but dreaming:
Let us bathe in this crystalline light :
With hope and in beauty to-night :
See!-it flickers up the sky through the night;
Ah, we safely may trust to its gleaming,
We safely may trust to a gleaming
That cannot but guide us aright,
Since it flickers up to Heaven through the night.'
Thus I pacified Psyche and kissed her,
And tempted her out of her gloom—
And we passed to the end of a vista,
But were stopped by the door of a tomb,-
And I said, 'What is written, sweet sister,
Then my heart it grew ashen and sober
As the leaves that were crisped and sere,
As the leaves that were withering and sere;
And I cried-'It was surely October
On this very night of last year,
That I journeyed-I journeyed down here-
Well I know, now, this dank tarn of Auber,—
A VISION IN A DREAM.
IN Xanadu did Kubla Khan
So twice five miles of fertile ground
With walls and towers were girdled round:
But oh! that deep romantic chasm which slanted
As e'er beneath a waning moon was haunted
By woman wailing for her demon-lover!
And from this chasm, with ceaseless turmoil seething
And 'mid this tumult Kubla heard from far
The shadow of the dome of pleasure
A sunny pleasure-dome with caves of ice!
In a vision once I saw :
It was an Abyssinian maid,
Could I revive within me
Her symphony and song,
To such a deep delight 'twould win me
I would build that dome in air,
That sunny dome! Those caves of ice!
And drunk the milk of Paradise.
HENCE, loathed Melancholy,
Of Cerberus and blackest Midnight born
In Stygian cave forlorn
'Mongst horrid shapes, and shrieks, and sights unholy! Find out some uncouth cell
Where brooding Darkness spreads his jealous wings
And the night-raven sings;
There under ebon shades, and low-brow'd rocks
As ragged as thy locks,
In dark Cimmerian desert ever dwell.
But come, thou Goddess fair and free,