« הקודםהמשך »
In the calm sunshine slept the glittering main.
Until it seemed to bring a joy to my despair.
And afterwards, by my good father taught,
He well could love in grief: his faith he kept;
We lived in peace and comfort; and were blest
With daily bread, by constant toil supplied.
Three lovely infants lay upon my breast;
And knew not why. My happy father died
When sad distress reduced the children's meal: The gambols and wild freaks at shearing time; Thrice happy! that for him the grave did hide My hen's rich nest through long grass scarce espied; The empty loom, cold hearth, and silent wheel, The cowslip-gathering in June's dewy prime; And tears which flowed for ills which patience could The swans, that, when I sought the water-side,
not heal. From far to meet me came, spreading their snowy pride!
'Twas a hard change, an evil time was come;
We had no hope, and no relief could gain. The staff I yet remember which upbore
But soon, with proud parade, the noisy drum The bending body of my active sire;
Beat round, to sweep the streets of want and pain.
My husband's arms now only served to strain
There long were we neglected, and we bore ment pecked.
Much sorrow, ere the fleet its anchor weighed;
Green fields before us, and our native shore,
For our departure; wished and wished-nor knew
'Mid that long sickness, and those hopes delayed, We toiled, and struggled—hoping for a day
That happier days we never more must view: When fortune should put on a kinder look;
The parting signal streamed, at last the land withBut vain were wishes-efforts vain as they:
drew. He from his old hereditary nook
(we took. Must part,—the summons came-our final leave
But the calm summer season now was past.
On as we drove, the equinoctial deep It was indeed a miserable hour
Ran mountains-high before the howling blast; When from the last hill-top, my sire surveyed,
And many perished in the whirlwind's sweep. Peering above the trees, the steeple tower
We gazed with terror on their gloomy sleep, That on his marriage day sweet music made!
Untaught that soon such anguish must ensue,
Our hopes such harvest of affiction reap,
That we the mercy of the waves should rue:
We reached the western world, a poor, devoted crew.
The pains and plagues thaton our heads came down,
The very ocean has its hour of rest.
Das With blindness link'd, did on my vitals fall, Labazteard my neighbours, in their beds, complain
Ah! how unlike those late terrific sleeps,
My memory and my strength returned; and, thence
They with their panniered asses semblance made
Of potters wandering on from door to door:
But life of happier sort to me pourtrayed,
The bag-pipe, dinning on the midnight moor,
Well met from far with revelry secure,
Among the forest glades, when jocund June 77 For me-farthest from earthly port to roam
Rolled fast along the sky his warm and genial moon. Was best, could I but shun the spot where man
But ill they suited me; those journies dark might come.
O'er moor and mountain, midnight theft to hatch! And oft I thought (my fancy was so strong)
To charm the surly house-dog's faithful bark, That I, at last, a resting-place had found;
Or hang on tip-toe at the lifted latch. " Here will I dwell,” said I, “ my whole life long, The gloomy lantern, and the dim blue match, Roaming the illimitable waters round:
The black disguise, the warning whistle shrill, Here will I live :-of every friend disowned,
And ear still busy on its nightly watch, 1, " And end my days upon the ocean flood.”
Were not for me, brought up in nothing ill: (still. To break my dream the vessel reached its bound: Besides, on griefs so fresh my thoughts were brooding And homeless near a thousand homes I stood,
What could I do, unaided and unblest? And near a thousand tables pined, and wanted fooil.
My father! gone was every friend of thine: By grief enfeebled, was I turned adrift,
And kindred of dead husband are at best Helpless as sailor cast on desert rock;
Small help; and, after marriage such as mine, Nor morsel to my mouth that day did lift,
With little kindness would to me incline. Nor dared my hand at any door to knock.
Ill was I then for toil or service fit: I lay where, with his drowsy mates, the cock
With tears whose course no effort could confine, From the cross timber of an out-house hung:
By the road-side forgetful would I sit
Whole hours, my idle arms in moping sorrow knit.
Uived upon what casual bounty yields, status 30 passed another day, and so the third;
Now coldly given, now utterly refused. ide to Then did I try in vain the crowd's resort.
The ground I for my bed have often used: -In deep despair, by frightful wishes stirred,
But, what afflicts my peace with keenest ruth Near the sea-side I reached a ruined fort:
Is, that I have my inner self abused, There, pains which nature could no more support,
Forgone the home delight of constant truth,
And clear and open soul, so prized in fearless youth. Ind I had many interruptions short
Three years thus wandering, often have I viewed, of hideous sense; I sank, nor step could crawl, and thence was carried to a neighbouring hospital.
In tears, the sun towards that country tend
Where my poor heart lost all its fortitude: ecovery came with food: but still my brain
And now across this moor my steps I bendweak, nor of the past had memory.
Oh! tell me whither-for no earthly friend
Havel.”-Sheceased, and weeping turned away; many things which never troubled me;
As if because her tale was at an end feet still bustling round with busy glee;
She wept;-because she had no more to say looks where common kindness had no part;
Of that perpetual weight which on her spirit lay.
'TIS SAID, THAT SOME HAVE DIED
aking the sile 52 joy to my
| ese things just served to stir the torpid sense,
nor pity in my bosom raised.
'Tis said, that some have died re:
But su And if
Whec Aad Thon Yet.
In the cold north's unhallowed ground,
I heard, and saw the flashes drive; Because the wretched man himself had slain,
And yet they are upon my eyes,
And yet I am alive.
Oh let my body die away!
My fire is dead: it knew no pain;
Yet is it dead, and I remain.
All stiff with ice the ashes lie;
And they are dead, and I will die.
When I was well, I wished to live, “ Oh, move, thou cottage, from behind that oak! For clothes, for warmth, for food, and fire; Or let the aged tree uprooted lie,
But they to me no joy can give, That in some other way yon smoke
No pleasure now, and no desire.
Then here contented will I lie!
Alas! ye might have dragged me on
Another day, a single one!
Too soon I yielded to despair; “ 0! what a weight is in these shadest Ye leaves, Why did ye listen to my prayer? When will that dying murmur be supprest?
When ye were gone my limbs were stronger; Your sound my heart of peace bereaves,
And oh how grievously I rue, It robs my heart of rest.
That, afterwards, a little longer, Thou thrush, that singest loud-and loud and free, My friends, I did not follow you! Into yon row of willows flit,
For strong and without pain I lay, Upon that alder sit;
My friends, when ye were gone away. Or sing another song, or choose another tree.
My child! they gave thee to another, ** Roll back, sweet rill! back to thy mountain bounds, A woman who was not thy mother. And there for ever be thy waters chained!
When from my arms my babe they took, For thou dost haunt the air with sounds
On me how strangely did he look! That cannot be sustained;
Through his whole body something ran, If still beneath that pine-tree's ragged bough
A most strange working did I see; Headlong yon waterfall must come,
- As if he strove to be a man, Oh let it then be dumb!
That he might pull the sledge for me.
Oh mercy! like a belpless child.
My little joy! my little pride! Thou one fair shrub, oh! shed thy flowers,
In two days more I must have died. And stir uot in the gale.
Then do not weep and grieve for me ; For thus to see thee nodding in the air,
I feel I must have died with thee.
Oh wind, that o'er my head art flying
The way my friends their course did bend,
THE COMPLAINT OF A FORSAKEN
THE LAST OF THE FLOCK.
pag A healthy man, a man full grown,
Another still! and still another! Weep in the public roads alone.
A little lamb, and then its inother! But such a one, on English ground,
It was a vein that never stopp'dAnd in the broad high-way, I met;
Like blood-drops from my heart they dropp'd. Along the broad high-way he came,
Till thirty were not left alive His cheeks with tears were wet.
They dwindled, dwindled, one by one, Sturdy he seemed, though he was sad;
And I may say, that many a time And in his arms a lamb he had.
I wished they all were gone:
They dwindled one by one away;
For me it was a woeful day.
To wicked deeds I was inclined,
And wicked fancies crossed my mind; 1 To wipe those briny tears away.
And every man I chanced to see, 12 I followed him, and said, “ My friend, at What ails you? wherefore weep you so?”.
I thought he knew some ill of me. -“ Shame on me, sir! this lusty lamb,
No peace, no comfort could I find,
No ease, within doors or without; He makes my tears to flow.
And crazily, and wearily, To-day I fetched him from the rock;
I went my work about. He is the last of all my flock.
Oft-times I thought to run away; When I was young, a single man,
For me it was a woeful day. * And after youthful follies ran,
Sir! 'twas a precious flock to me, Though little given to care and thought,
As dear as my own children be; * Yet, so it was, a ewe I bought;
For daily with my growing store And other sheep from her I raised,
I loved my children more and more. c* As healthy sheep as you might see;
Alas! it was an evil time; PRE. And then I married, and was rich
God cursed me in my sore distress; As I could wish to be;
I prayed, yet every day I thought Of sheep I numbered a full score,
I loved my children less ; And every year increased my store.
And every week, and every day,
My flock, it seemed to melt away. ** Year after year my stock it grew; And from this one, this single ewe,
They dwindled, sir, sad sight to see! Full fifty comely sheep I raised,
From ten to five, from five to three, 14:12 As sweet a flock as ever grazed!
A lamb, a wether, and a ewe ; Banco Upon the mountain did they feed,
And then at last, from three to two; They throve, and we at home did thrive.
And of my fifty, yesterday - This lusty lamb, of all my store,
I had but only one: Is all that is alive;
And here it lies upon my arm, And now I care not if we die,
Alas! and I have none;And perish all of poverty.
To-day I fetched it from the rock;
It is the last of all my flock."
“ With sacrifice, before the rising morn They said I was a wealthy man;
Performed, my slaughtered lord have I required; My sheep upon the mountain fed,
And in thick darkness, amid shades forlorn, And it was fit that thence I took
Him of the infernal gods have I desired: Whereof to buy us bread. “ Do this: how can we give to you,”
Celestial pity I again implore ;
Restore him to my sight-great Jove, restore!" They cried, " what to the poor is due ?"
So speaking, and by fervent love endowed [hands; I sold a sheep, as they had said,
With faith, the suppliant heaven-ward lifts her And bought my little children bread,
While, like the sun emerging from a cloud, And they were healthy with their food;
Her countenance brightens-and her eye expands, For me-it never did me good.
Her bosom heaves and spreads, her stature grows, A woeful time it was for me,
And she expects the issue in repose.
O terror! what hath she perceived ?-Ojoy! With all my care and pains,
What doth she look on ?-whom doth she behold? 1 To see it melt like snow away!
Her bero slain upon the beach of Troy? For me it was a woeful day.
His vital presence-his corporeal mold?
What time the fleet at Aulis lay enchained.
And, if no worthier led the way, resolved
I act emb
[breat be toy ad
It is-if sense deceive her not-'tis he!
“ Be taught, O faithful consort, to control
On the to And a god leads him-winged Mercury!
Rebellious passion: for the gods approve
Ad cath The depth, and not the tumult of the soul;
The paths Mild Hermes spake—and touched her with his wand
A fervent, not ungovernable love.
hower That calms all fear,“ Such grace hath crowned thy
Thy transports moderate ; and meekly mourn Laodamia, that at Jove's command (prayer,
When I depart, for brief is my sojourn—" Thy husband walks the paths of upper air:
* But shot He comes to tarry with thee three hours' space; “ Ah, wherefore ? —Did not Hercules by forcedit Accept the gift, behold him face to face !"
Wrest from the guardian monster of the tomb
Alcestis, a reanimated corse, Forth sprang the impassioned queen her lord to
Given back to dwell on earth in beauty's blocat maite
And Æson stood a youth ʼmid youthful peers.
“ The gods to us are merciful—and they And re-assume his place before her sight.
Yet further may relent: for mightier far
(krbiet “ Protesilaus, lo! thy guide is gone!
Of magic potent over sun and star, Confirm, I pray, the vision with thy voice:
Is love, though oft to agony distrest, This is our palace,-yonder is thy throne;
And though his favourite seat be feeble wonasi
Larob Speak, and the floor thou tread'st on will rejoice.
Iswards Not to appal me have the gods bestowed
“ But if thou go’st, I follow"_" Peace!" he saidThis precious boon,--and blest a sad abode." She looked upon him and was calmed and cheers: Encourag
The ghastly colour from his lips had led; “ Great Jove, Laodamia, doth not leave
In his deportment, shape, and mien, appeared His gifts imperfect:-Spectre though I be,
Elysian beauty-melancholy graceI am not sent to scare thee or deceive;
Brought from a pensive though a happy place.
ladhe But in reward of thy fidelity. And something also did my worth obtain ;
He spake of love, such love as spirits feel For fearless virtue bringeth boundless gain.
In worlds whose course is equable and pure;
No fears to beat away–no strife to heal“ Thou know'st, the Delphic oracle foretold
The past unsighed for, and the future sure;
Spake, as a witness, of a second birth
Of all that is most beauteous—imaged there
In happier beauty; more pellucid streams,
An ampler ether, a diviner air,
leadth The tour
Hel A loot
Climes which the sun, who sheds the brightest day
“ The wish’d-for wind was given :--I then revolved
“ No spectre greets me,-no vain shadow this:
Сpte You Yout The Bot