按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！
ELLA WITH THE SHINING HAIR
THROUGH many a fragrant cedar grove
A darkened water moans；
And there pale Memory stood with Love
Amongst the moss…green stones。
The shimmering sunlight fell and kissed
The grasstree's golden sheaves；
But we were troubled with a mist
Of music in the leaves。
One passed us； like a sudden gleam；
Her face was deadly fair。
‘‘Oh； go；'' we said； ‘‘you homeless Dream
Of Ella's shining hair！
‘‘We halt； like one with tired wings；
And we would fain forget
That there are tempting； maddening things
Too high to clutch at yet！
‘‘Though seven Springs have filled the Wood
With pleasant hints and signs；
Since faltering feet went forth and stood
With Death amongst the pines。''
Page： 36
From point to point unwittingly
We wish to clamber still；
Till we have light enough to see
The summits of the hill。
‘‘O do not cry； my sister dear；''
Said beaming Hope to Love；
‘‘Though we have been so troubled here
The Land is calm above；
‘‘Beyond the regions of the storm
We'll find the golden gates；
Where； all the day； a radiant Form；
Our Ella； sits and waits。''
And Memory murmured： ‘‘She was one
Of God's own darlings lent；
And Angels wept that she had gone；
And wondered why she went。
‘‘I know they came； and talked to her；
Through every garden breeze；
About eternal Hills of Myrrh；
And quiet Jasper Seas。
‘‘For her the Earth contained no charms；
All things were strange and wild；
And I believe a Seraph's arms
Caught up the sainted Child。''
And Love looked round； and said： ‘‘Oh； you
That sit by Beulah's streams；
Shake on this thirsty life the dew
Which brings immortal dreams！
‘‘Ah！ turn to us； and greet us oft
With looks of pitying balm；
And hints of heaven； in whispers soft；
To make our troubles calm。
‘‘My Ella with the shining hair；
Behold； these many years；
We've held up wearied hands in prayer；
And groped about in tears。''
Page： 37
But Hope sings on： ‘‘Beyond the storm
We'll find the golden gates
Where； all the day； a radiant Form；
Our Ella； sits and waits。''
THE BARCOO
（The Squatter's Song）
FROM the runs of the Narran； wide…dotted with sheep；
And loud with the lowing of cattle；
We speed for a land where the strange forests sleep
And the hidden creeks bubble and brattle！
Now call on the horses； and leave the blind courses
And sources of rivers that all of us know；
For； crossing the ridges； and passing the ledges；
And running up gorges； we'll come to the verges
Of gullies where waters eternally flow。
Oh！ the herds they will rush down the spurs of the hill
To feed on the grasses so cool and so sweet；
And I think that my life with delight will stand still
When we halt with the pleasant Barcoo at our feet。
Good…bye to the Barwon； and brigalow scrubs；
Adieu to the Culgo？ranges；
But look for the mulga and salt…bitten shrubs；
Though the face of the forest…land changes。
The leagues we may travel down beds of hot gravel；
And clay…crusted reaches where moisture hath been；
While searching for waters； may vex us and thwart us；
Yet who would be quailing； or fainting； or failing？
Not you； who are men of the Narran； I ween！
When we leave the dry channels away to the south；
And reach the far plains we are journeying to；
We will cry； though our lips may be glued with the drouth；
Hip； hip； and hurrah for the pleasant Barcoo！
BELLS BEYOND THE FOREST
WILD…EYED woodlands； here I rest me； underneath the gaunt and ghastly trees；
Underneath fantastic…fronted caverns crammed with many a muffled breeze。
Page： 38
Far away from dusky towns and cities twinkling with the feet of men；
Listening to a sound of mellow music fleeting down the gusty glen；
Sitting by a rapid torrent； with the broken sunset in my face；
By a rapid； roaring torrent； tumbling through a dark and lonely place！
And I hear the bells beyond the forest； and the voice of distant streams；
And a flood of swelling singing； wafting round a world of ruined dreams。
Like to one who watches daylight dying from a lofty mountain spire；
When the autumn splendour scatters like a gust of faintly…gleaming fire；
So the silent spirit looketh through a mist of faded smiles and tears；
While across it stealeth all the sad and sweet divinity of years …
All the scenes of shine and shadow； light and darkness sleeping side by side
When my heart was wedded to existence； as a bridegroom to his bride：
While I travelled gaily onward with the vapours crowding in my wake；
Deeming that the Present hid the glory where the promised Morn would break。
Like to one who； by the waters standing； marks the reeling ocean wave
Moaning； hide his head all torn and shivered underneath his lonely cave；
So the soul within me glances at the tides of Purpose where they creep；
Dashed to fragments by the yawning ridges circling Life's tempestuous Deep！
Oh！ the tattered leaves are dropping； dropping round me like a fall of rain；
While the dust of many a broken aspiration sweeps my troubled brain；
Page： 39
With the yearnings after Beauty； and the longings to be good and great；
And the thoughts of catching Fortune； flying on the tardy wings of Fate。
Bells； beyond the forest chiming； where is all the inspiration now
That was wont to flush my forehead； and to chase the pallor from my brow？
Did I not； amongst these thickets； weave my thoughts and passions into rhyme；
Trusting that the words were golden； hoping for the praise of after…time？
Where have all those fancies fled to？ Can the fond delusion linger still；
When the Evening withers o'er me； and the night is creeping up the hill？
If the years of strength have left me； and my life begins to fail and fade；
Who will learn my simple ballads； who will stay to sing the songs I've made？
Bells； beyond the forest ringing； lo； I hasten to the world again；
For the sun has smote the empty windows； and the day is on the wane！
Hear I not a dreamy echo； soughing through the rafters of the tree；
Like a sound of stormy rivers； or the ravings of a restless sea？
Should I loiter here to listen； while this fitful wind is on the wing？
No； the heart of Time is sobbing； and my spirit is a withered thing！
Let the rapid torrents tumble； let the woodlands whistle in the blast；
Mighty minstrels sing behind me； but the promise of my youth is past。
Page： 40
ULMARRA
ALONE … a