Poem: The Garden Of Eros
上海龙凤shlf最新地址Poem: The Garden Of Eros
上海龙凤shlf最新地址It is full summer now, the heart of June;
上海龙凤shlf最新地址Not yet the sunburnt reapers are astir
上海龙凤shlf最新地址Upon the upland meadow where too soon
上海龙凤shlf最新地址Rich autumn time, the season's usurer,
上海龙凤shlf最新地址Will lend his hoarded gold to all the trees,
And see his treasure scattered by the wild and spendthrift breeze.
Too soon indeed! yet here the daffodil,
That love-child of the Spring, has lingered on
上海龙凤shlf最新地址To vex the rose with jealousy, and still
The harebell spreads her azure pavilion,
And like a strayed and wandering reveller
Abandoned of its brothers, whom long since June's messenger
The missel-thrush has frighted from the glade,
上海龙凤shlf最新地址One pale narcissus loiters fearfully
Close to a shadowy nook, where half afraid
上海龙凤shlf最新地址Of their own loveliness some violets lie
That will not look the gold sun in the face
上海龙凤shlf最新地址For fear of too much splendour, - ah! methinks it is a place
Which should be trodden by Persephone
When wearied of the flowerless fields of Dis!
Or danced on by the lads of Arcady!
上海龙凤shlf最新地址The hidden secret of eternal bliss
上海龙凤shlf最新地址Known to the Grecian here a man might find,
Ah! you and I may find it now if Love and Sleep be kind.
上海龙凤shlf最新地址There are the flowers which mourning Herakles
上海龙凤shlf最新地址Strewed on the tomb of Hylas, columbine,
上海龙凤shlf最新地址Its white doves all a-flutter where the breeze
上海龙凤shlf最新地址Kissed them too harshly, the small celandine,
That yellow-kirtled chorister of eve,
上海龙凤shlf最新地址And lilac lady's-smock, - but let them bloom alone, and leave
上海龙凤shlf最新地址Yon spired hollyhock red-crocketed
To sway its silent chimes, else must the bee,
Its little bellringer, go seek instead
Some other pleasaunce; the anemone
上海龙凤shlf最新地址That weeps at daybreak, like a silly girl
上海龙凤shlf最新地址Before her love, and hardly lets the butterflies unfurl
Their painted wings beside it, - bid it pine
上海龙凤shlf最新地址In pale virginity; the winter snow
上海龙凤shlf最新地址Will suit it better than those lips of thine
Whose fires would but scorch it, rather go
上海龙凤shlf最新地址And pluck that amorous flower which blooms alone,
Fed by the pander wind with dust of kisses not its own.
上海龙凤shlf最新地址The trumpet-mouths of red convolvulus
上海龙凤shlf最新地址So dear to maidens, creamy meadow-sweet
Whiter than Juno's throat and odorous
As all Arabia, hyacinths the feet
上海龙凤shlf最新地址Of Huntress Dian would be loth to mar
上海龙凤shlf最新地址For any dappled fawn, - pluck these, and those fond flowers which
are
Fairer than what Queen Venus trod upon
上海龙凤shlf最新地址Beneath the pines of Ida, eucharis,
上海龙凤shlf最新地址That morning star which does not dread the sun,
And budding marjoram which but to kiss
上海龙凤shlf最新地址Would sweeten Cytheraea's lips and make
上海龙凤shlf最新地址Adonis jealous, - these for thy head, - and for thy girdle take
Yon curving spray of purple clematis
Whose gorgeous dye outflames the Tyrian King,
And foxgloves with their nodding chalices,
But that one narciss which the startled Spring
Let from her kirtle fall when first she heard
上海龙凤shlf最新地址In her own woods the wild tempestuous song of summer's bird,
Ah! leave it for a subtle memory
上海龙凤shlf最新地址Of those sweet tremulous days of rain and sun,
When April laughed between her tears to see
The early primrose with shy footsteps run
上海龙凤shlf最新地址From the gnarled oak-tree roots till all the wold,
上海龙凤shlf最新地址Spite of its brown and trampled leaves, grew bright with shimmering
gold.
Nay, pluck it too, it is not half so sweet
上海龙凤shlf最新地址As thou thyself, my soul's idolatry!
上海龙凤shlf最新地址And when thou art a-wearied at thy feet
上海龙凤shlf最新地址Shall oxlips weave their brightest tapestry,
For thee the woodbine shall forget its pride
And veil its tangled whorls, and thou shalt walk on daisies pied.
And I will cut a reed by yonder spring
And make the wood-gods jealous, and old Pan
Wonder what young intruder dares to sing
上海龙凤shlf最新地址In these still haunts, where never foot of man
上海龙凤shlf最新地址Should tread at evening, lest he chance to spy
The marble limbs of Artemis and all her company.
上海龙凤shlf最新地址And I will tell thee why the jacinth wears
Such dread embroidery of dolorous moan,
上海龙凤shlf最新地址And why the hapless nightingale forbears
上海龙凤shlf最新地址To sing her song at noon, but weeps alone
When the fleet swallow sleeps, and rich men feast,
And why the laurel trembles when she sees the lightening east.
上海龙凤shlf最新地址And I will sing how sad Proserpina
Unto a grave and gloomy Lord was wed,
And lure the silver-breasted Helena
Back from the lotus meadows of the dead,
上海龙凤shlf最新地址So shalt thou see that awful loveliness
上海龙凤shlf最新地址For which two mighty Hosts met fearfully in war's abyss!
And then I'll pipe to thee that Grecian tale
How Cynthia loves the lad Endymion,
上海龙凤shlf最新地址And hidden in a grey and misty veil
上海龙凤shlf最新地址Hies to the cliffs of Latmos once the Sun
上海龙凤shlf最新地址Leaps from his ocean bed in fruitless chase
Of those pale flying feet which fade away in his embrace.
And if my flute can breathe sweet melody,
上海龙凤shlf最新地址We may behold Her face who long ago
上海龙凤shlf最新地址Dwelt among men by the AEgean sea,
上海龙凤shlf最新地址And whose sad house with pillaged portico
And friezeless wall and columns toppled down
Looms o'er the ruins of that fair and violet cinctured town.
上海龙凤shlf最新地址Spirit of Beauty! tarry still awhile,
They are not dead, thine ancient votaries;
上海龙凤shlf最新地址Some few there are to whom thy radiant smile
Is better than a thousand victories,
Though all the nobly slain of Waterloo
上海龙凤shlf最新地址Rise up in wrath against them! tarry still, there are a few
上海龙凤shlf最新地址Who for thy sake would give their manlihood
上海龙凤shlf最新地址And consecrate their being; I at least
Have done so, made thy lips my daily food,
上海龙凤shlf最新地址And in thy temples found a goodlier feast
Than this starved age can give me, spite of all
上海龙凤shlf最新地址Its new-found creeds so sceptical and so dogmatical.
Here not Cephissos, not Ilissos flows,
上海龙凤shlf最新地址The woods of white Colonos are not here,
On our bleak hills the olive never blows,
No simple priest conducts his lowing steer
Up the steep marble way, nor through the town
Do laughing maidens bear to thee the crocus-flowered gown.
Yet tarry! for the boy who loved thee best,
上海龙凤shlf最新地址Whose very name should be a memory
To make thee linger, sleeps in silent rest
Beneath the Roman walls, and melody
Still mourns her sweetest lyre; none can play
The lute of Adonais: with his lips Song passed away.
上海龙凤shlf最新地址Nay, when Keats died the Muses still had left
One silver voice to sing his threnody,
But ah! too soon of it we were bereft
When on that riven night and stormy sea
Panthea claimed her singer as her own,
And slew the mouth that praised her; since which time we walk
alone,
Save for that fiery heart, that morning star
Of re-arisen England, whose clear eye
Saw from our tottering throne and waste of war
上海龙凤shlf最新地址The grand Greek limbs of young Democracy
Rise mightily like Hesperus and bring
The great Republic! him at least thy love hath taught to sing,
And he hath been with thee at Thessaly,
And seen white Atalanta fleet of foot
上海龙凤shlf最新地址In passionless and fierce virginity
上海龙凤shlf最新地址Hunting the tusked boar, his honied lute
Hath pierced the cavern of the hollow hill,
上海龙凤shlf最新地址And Venus laughs to know one knee will bow before her still.
And he hath kissed the lips of Proserpine,
上海龙凤shlf最新地址And sung the Galilaean's requiem,
上海龙凤shlf最新地址That wounded forehead dashed with blood and wine
上海龙凤shlf最新地址He hath discrowned, the Ancient Gods in him
上海龙凤shlf最新地址Have found their last, most ardent worshipper,
And the new Sign grows grey and dim before its conqueror.
上海龙凤shlf最新地址Spirit of Beauty! tarry with us still,
It is not quenched the torch of poesy,
The star that shook above the Eastern hill
Holds unassailed its argent armoury
From all the gathering gloom and fretful fight -
O tarry with us still! for through the long and common night,
Morris, our sweet and simple Chaucer's child,
Dear heritor of Spenser's tuneful reed,
上海龙凤shlf最新地址With soft and sylvan pipe has oft beguiled
The weary soul of man in troublous need,
上海龙凤shlf最新地址And from the far and flowerless fields of ice
Has brought fair flowers to make an earthly paradise.
We know them all, Gudrun the strong men's bride,
上海龙凤shlf最新地址Aslaug and Olafson we know them all,
How giant Grettir fought and Sigurd died,
上海龙凤shlf最新地址And what enchantment held the king in thrall
When lonely Brynhild wrestled with the powers
That war against all passion, ah! how oft through summer hours,
Long listless summer hours when the noon
Being enamoured of a damask rose
Forgets to journey westward, till the moon
上海龙凤shlf最新地址The pale usurper of its tribute grows
上海龙凤shlf最新地址From a thin sickle to a silver shield
上海龙凤shlf最新地址And chides its loitering car - how oft, in some cool grassy field
上海龙凤shlf最新地址Far from the cricket-ground and noisy eight,
上海龙凤shlf最新地址At Bagley, where the rustling bluebells come
Almost before the blackbird finds a mate
And overstay the swallow, and the hum
上海龙凤shlf最新地址Of many murmuring bees flits through the leaves,
Have I lain poring on the dreamy tales his fancy weaves,
And through their unreal woes and mimic pain
上海龙凤shlf最新地址Wept for myself, and so was purified,
And in their simple mirth grew glad again;
For as I sailed upon that pictured tide
The strength and splendour of the storm was mine
Without the storm's red ruin, for the singer is divine;
上海龙凤shlf最新地址The little laugh of water falling down
Is not so musical, the clammy gold
上海龙凤shlf最新地址Close hoarded in the tiny waxen town
Has less of sweetness in it, and the old
上海龙凤shlf最新地址Half-withered reeds that waved in Arcady
Touched by his lips break forth again to fresher harmony.
Spirit of Beauty, tarry yet awhile!
上海龙凤shlf最新地址Although the cheating merchants of the mart
With iron roads profane our lovely isle,
And break on whirling wheels the limbs of Art,
Ay! though the crowded factories beget
上海龙凤shlf最新地址The blindworm Ignorance that slays the soul, O tarry yet!
For One at least there is, - He bears his name
From Dante and the seraph Gabriel, -
上海龙凤shlf最新地址Whose double laurels burn with deathless flame
To light thine altar; He too loves thee well,
Who saw old Merlin lured in Vivien's snare,
And the white feet of angels coming down the golden stair,
Loves thee so well, that all the World for him
上海龙凤shlf最新地址A gorgeous-coloured vestiture must wear,
And Sorrow take a purple diadem,
Or else be no more Sorrow, and Despair
Gild its own thorns, and Pain, like Adon, be
上海龙凤shlf最新地址Even in anguish beautiful; - such is the empery
上海龙凤shlf最新地址Which Painters hold, and such the heritage
上海龙凤shlf最新地址This gentle solemn Spirit doth possess,
Being a better mirror of his age
In all his pity, love, and weariness,
上海龙凤shlf最新地址Than those who can but copy common things,
And leave the Soul unpainted with its mighty questionings.
上海龙凤shlf最新地址But they are few, and all romance has flown,
And men can prophesy about the sun,
And lecture on his arrows - how, alone,
上海龙凤shlf最新地址Through a waste void the soulless atoms run,
How from each tree its weeping nymph has fled,
上海龙凤shlf最新地址And that no more 'mid English reeds a Naiad shows her head.
Methinks these new Actaeons boast too soon
That they have spied on beauty; what if we
Have analysed the rainbow, robbed the moon
Of her most ancient, chastest mystery,
Shall I, the last Endymion, lose all hope
上海龙凤shlf最新地址Because rude eyes peer at my mistress through a telescope!
What profit if this scientific age
Burst through our gates with all its retinue
Of modern miracles! Can it assuage
One lover's breaking heart? what can it do
上海龙凤shlf最新地址To make one life more beautiful, one day
More godlike in its period? but now the Age of Clay
上海龙凤shlf最新地址Returns in horrid cycle, and the earth
Hath borne again a noisy progeny
Of ignorant Titans, whose ungodly birth
上海龙凤shlf最新地址Hurls them against the august hierarchy
上海龙凤shlf最新地址Which sat upon Olympus; to the Dust
They have appealed, and to that barren arbiter they must
Repair for judgment; let them, if they can,
From Natural Warfare and insensate Chance,
上海龙凤shlf最新地址Create the new Ideal rule for man!
Methinks that was not my inheritance;
For I was nurtured otherwise, my soul
Passes from higher heights of life to a more supreme goal.
Lo! while we spake the earth did turn away
Her visage from the God, and Hecate's boat
上海龙凤shlf最新地址Rose silver-laden, till the jealous day
Blew all its torches out: I did not note
The waning hours, to young Endymions
Time's palsied fingers count in vain his rosary of suns!
上海龙凤shlf最新地址Mark how the yellow iris wearily
Leans back its throat, as though it would be kissed
By its false chamberer, the dragon-fly,
上海龙凤shlf最新地址Who, like a blue vein on a girl's white wrist,
上海龙凤shlf最新地址Sleeps on that snowy primrose of the night,
Which 'gins to flush with crimson shame, and die beneath the light.
Come let us go, against the pallid shield
Of the wan sky the almond blossoms gleam,
上海龙凤shlf最新地址The corncrake nested in the unmown field
Answers its mate, across the misty stream
On fitful wing the startled curlews fly,
上海龙凤shlf最新地址And in his sedgy bed the lark, for joy that Day is nigh,
Scatters the pearled dew from off the grass,
In tremulous ecstasy to greet the sun,
上海龙凤shlf最新地址Who soon in gilded panoply will pass
上海龙凤shlf最新地址Forth from yon orange-curtained pavilion
上海龙凤shlf最新地址Hung in the burning east: see, the red rim
上海龙凤shlf最新地址O'ertops the expectant hills! it is the God! for love of him
上海龙凤shlf最新地址Already the shrill lark is out of sight,
Flooding with waves of song this silent dell, -
Ah! there is something more in that bird's flight
上海龙凤shlf最新地址Than could be tested in a crucible! -
上海龙凤shlf最新地址But the air freshens, let us go, why soon
The woodmen will be here; how we have lived this night of June!