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native regions; when the winds hushed to listen to his tones; and
the world deemed him mad! I hear where I sit; the far murmur of
the sea。 Murmur on; ye blessed waters! The waves are the pulses
of the shore。 They beat with the gladness of the morning wind;
so beats my heart in the freshness and light that make up the
thoughts of thee!
。。。
〃Often in my childhood I have mused and asked for what I was
born; and my soul answered my heart and said; 'THOU WERT BORN TO
WORSHIP!' Yes; I know why the real world has ever seemed to me
so false and cold。 I know why the world of the stage charmed and
dazzled me。 I know why it was so sweet to sit apart and gaze my
whole being into the distant heavens。 My nature is not formed
for this life; happy though that life seem to others。 It is its
very want to have ever before it some image loftier than itself!
Stranger; in what realm above; when the grave is past; shall my
soul; hour after hour; worship at the same source as thine?
。。。
〃In the gardens of my neighbour there is a small fountain。 I
stood by it this morning after sunrise。 How it sprung up; with
its eager spray; to the sunbeams! And then I thought that I
should see thee again this day; and so sprung my heart to the new
morning which thou bringest me from the skies。
。。。
〃I HAVE seen; I have LISTENED to thee again。 How bold I have
become! I ran on with my childlike thoughts and stories; my
recollections of the past; as if I had known thee from an infant。
Suddenly the idea of my presumption struck me。 I stopped; and
timidly sought thine eyes。
〃'Well; and when you found that the nightingale refused to
sing?'
〃'Ah!' I said; 'what to thee this history of the heart of a
child?'
〃'Viola;' didst thou answer; with that voice; so inexpressibly
calm and earnest!'Viola; the darkness of a child's heart is
often but the shadow of a star。 Speak on! And thy nightingale;
when they caught and caged it; refused to sing?'
〃'And I placed the cage yonder; amidst the vine…leaves; and took
up my lute; and spoke to it on the strings; for I thought that
all music was its native language; and it would understand that I
sought to comfort it。'
〃'Yes;' saidst thou。 'And at last it answered thee; but not with
song;in a sharp; brief cry; so mournful; that thy hands let
fall the lute; and the tears gushed from thine eyes。 So softly
didst thou unbar the cage; and the nightingale flew into yonder
thicket; and thou heardst the foliage rustle; and; looking
through the moonlight; thine eyes saw that it had found its mate。
It sang to thee then from the boughs a long; loud; joyous
jubilee。 And musing; thou didst feel that it was not the vine…
leaves or the moonlight that made the bird give melody to night;
and that the secret of its music was the presence of a thing
beloved。'
〃How didst thou know my thoughts in that childlike time better
than I knew myself! How is the humble life of my past years;
with its mean events; so mysteriously familiar to thee; bright
stranger! I wonder;but I do not again dare to fear thee!
。。。
〃Once the thought of him oppressed and weighed me down。 As an
infant that longs for the moon; my being was one vague desire for
something never to be attained。 Now I feel rather as if to think
of thee sufficed to remove every fetter from my spirit。 I float
in the still seas of light; and nothing seems too high for my
wings; too glorious for my eyes。 It was mine ignorance that made
me fear thee。 A knowledge that is not in books seems to breathe
around thee as an atmosphere。 How little have I read!how
little have I learned! Yet when thou art by my side; it seems as
if the veil were lifted from all wisdom and all Nature。 I
startle when I look even at the words I have written; they seem
not to come from myself; but are the signs of another language
which thou hast taught my heart; and which my hand traces
rapidly; as at thy dictation。 Sometimes; while I write or muse;
I could fancy that I heard light wings hovering around me; and
saw dim shapes of beauty floating round; and vanishing as they
smiled upon me。 No unquiet and fearful dream ever comes to me
now in sleep; yet sleep and waking are alike but as one dream。
In sleep I wander with thee; not through the paths of earth; but
through impalpable airan air which seems a musicupward and
upward; as the soul mounts on the tones of a lyre! Till I knew
thee; I was as a slave to the earth。 Thou hast given to me the
liberty of the universe! Before; it was life; it seems to me now
as if I had commenced eternity!
。。。
〃Formerly; when I was to appear upon the stage; my heart beat
more loudly。 I trembled to encounter the audience; whose breath
gave shame or renown; and now I have no fear of them。 I see
them; heed them; hear them not! I know that there will be music
in my voice; for it is a hymn that I pour to thee。 Thou never
comest to the theatre; and that no longer grieves me。 Thou art
become too sacred to appear a part of the common world; and I
feel glad that thou art not by when crowds have a right to judge
me。
。。。
〃And he spoke to me of ANOTHER: to another he would consign me!
No; it is not love that I feel for thee; Zanoni; or why did I
hear thee without anger; why did thy command seem to me not a
thing impossible? As the strings of the instrument obey the hand
of the master; thy look modulates the wildest chords of my heart
to thy will。 If it please thee;yes; let it be so。 Thou art
lord of my destinies; they cannot rebel against thee! I almost
think I could love him; whoever it be; on whom thou wouldst shed
the rays that circumfuse thyself。 Whatever thou hast touched; I
love; whatever thou speakest of; I love。 Thy hand played with
these vine leaves; I wear them in my bosom。 Thou seemest to me
the source of all love; too high and too bright to be loved
thyself; but darting light into other objects; on which the eye
can gaze less dazzled。 No; no; it is not love that I feel for
thee; and therefore it is that I do not blush to nourish and
confess it。 Shame on me if I loved; knowing myself so worthless
a thing to thee!
。。。
〃ANOTHER!my memory echoes back that word。 Another! Dost thou
mean that I shall see thee no more? It is not sadness;it is
not despair that seizes me。 I cannot weep。 It is an utter sense
of desolation。 I am plunged back into the common life; and I
shudder coldly at the solitude。 But I will obey thee; if thou
wilt。 Shall I not see thee again beyond the grave? O how sweet
it were to die!
〃Why do I not struggle from the web in which my will is thus
entangled? Hast thou a right to dispose of me thus? Give me
backgive me back the life I knew before I gave life itself away
to thee。 Give me back the careless dreams of my youth;…my
liberty of heart that sung aloud as it walked the earth。 Thou
hast disenchanted me