a dome of many-coloured glass(多彩玻璃顶)-第3章
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still； with the sound of birds； Where； though unseen； is heard the endless
song And murmur of the never resting sea。 'T was winter； Roger； when you
made this cup； But coming Spring guided your eager hand And round the
edge you fashioned young green leaves； A proper chalice made to hold the
shy And little flowers of the woods。 And here They will forget their sad
uprooting； lost In pleasure that this circle of bright leaves Should be their
setting； once more they will dream They hear winds wandering through
lofty trees And see the sun smiling between the leaves。
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A Dome of Many…Coloured Glass
Hora Stellatrix
The stars hang thick in the apple tree； The south wind smells of the
pungent sea； Gold tulip cups are heavy with dew。 The night's for you；
Sweetheart； for you！ Starfire rains from the vaulted blue。
Listen！ The dancing of unseen leaves。 A drowsy swallow stirs in the
eaves。 Only a maiden is sorrowing。 'T is night and spring； Sweetheart； and
spring！ Starfire lights your heart's blossoming。
In the intimate dark there's never an ear； Though the tulips stand on
tiptoe to hear； So give； ripe fruit must shrivel or fall。 As you are mine；
Sweetheart； give all！ Starfire sparkles； your coronal。
Fragment
What is poetry？ Is it a mosaic Of coloured stones which curiously
are wrought Into a pattern？ Rather glass that's taught By patient labor
any hue to take And glowing with a sumptuous splendor； make Beauty a
thing of awe； where sunbeams caught； Transmuted fall in sheafs of
rainbows fraught With storied meaning for religion's sake。
Loon Point
Softly the water ripples Against the canoe's curving side； Softly the
birch trees rustle Flinging over us branches wide。
Softly the moon glints and glistens As the water takes and leaves；
Like golden ears of corn Which fall from loose…bound sheaves；
Or like the snow…white petals Which drop from an overblown rose；
When Summer ripens to Autumn And the freighted year must close。
From the shore come the scents of a garden； And between a gap in
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the trees A proud white statue glimmers In cold； disdainful ease。
The child of a southern people； The thought of an alien race； What
does she in this pale； northern garden； How reconcile it with her grace？
But the moon in her wayward beauty Is ever and always the same；
As lovely as when upon Latmos She watched till Endymion came。
Through the water the moon writes her legends In light； on the
smooth； wet sand； They endure for a moment； and vanish； And no one
may understand。
All round us the secret of Nature Is telling itself to our sight； We may
guess at her meaning but never Can know the full mystery of night。
But her power of enchantment is on us； We bow to the spell which
she weaves； Made up of the murmur of waves And the manifold whisper
of leaves。
Summer
Some men there are who find in nature all Their inspiration； hers the
sympathy Which spurs them on to any great endeavor； To them the fields
and woods are closest friends； And they hold dear communion with the
hills； The voice of waters soothes them with its fall； And the great winds
bring healing in their sound。 To them a city is a prison house Where pent
up human forces labour and strive； Where beauty dwells not； driven forth
by man； But where in winter they must live until Summer gives back the
spaces of the hills。 To me it is not so。 I love the earth And all the gifts of
her so lavish hand： Sunshine and flowers； rivers and rushing winds； Thick
branches swaying in a winter storm； And moonlight playing in a boat's
wide wake； But more than these； and much； ah； how much more； I love the
very human heart of man。 Above me spreads the hot； blue mid…day sky；
Far down the hillside lies the sleeping lake Lazily reflecting back the sun；
And scarcely ruffled by the little breeze Which wanders idly through the
nodding ferns。 The blue crest of the distant mountain； tops The green crest
of the hill on which I sit； And it is summer； glorious； deep…toned summer；
The very crown of nature's changing year When all her surging life is at its
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full。 To me alone it is a time of pause； A void and silent space between two
worlds； When inspiration lags； and feeling sleeps； Gathering strength for
efforts yet to come。 For life alone is creator of life； And closest contact
with the human world Is like a lantern shining in the night To light me to a
knowledge of myself。 I love the vivid life of winter months In constant
intercourse with human minds； When every new experience is gain And
on all sides we feel the great world's heart； The pulse and throb of life
which makes us men！
〃To…morrow to Fresh Woods and Pastures New〃
As for a moment he stands； in hardy masculine beauty； Poised on the
fircrested rock； over the pool which below him Gleams in the wavering
sunlight； waiting the shock of his plunging。 So for a moment I stand； my
feet planted firm in the present； Eagerly scanning the future which is so
soon to possess me。
The Way
At first a mere thread of a footpath half blotted out by the grasses
Sweeping triumphant across it； it wound between hedges of roses Whose
blossoms were poised above leaves as pond lilies float on the water； While
hidden by bloom in a hawthorn a bird filled the morning with singing。
It widened a highway； majestic； stretching ever to distant horizons；
Where shadows of tree…branches wavered； vague outlines invaded by
sunshine； No sound but the wind as it whispered the secrets of earth to the
flowers； And the hum of the yellow bees； honey…laden and dusty with
pollen。 And Summer said； 〃Come； follow onward； with no thought save
the longing to wander； The wind； and the bees； and the flowers； all
singing the great song of Nature； Are minstrels of change and of
promise； they herald the joy of the Future。〃
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Later the solitude vanished； confused and distracted the road Where
many were seeking and jostling。 Left behind were the trees and the
flowers； The half…realized beauty of quiet； the sacred unconscious
communing。 And now he is come to a river； a line of gray； sullen water；
Not blue and splashing； but dark； rolling somberly on to the ocean。 But on
the far side is a city whose windows flame gold in the sunset。 It lies fair
and shining before him； a gem set betwixt sky and water； And spanning
the river a bridge； frail promise to longing desire； Flung by man in his
infinite courage； across the stern force of the water； And he looks at the
river and fears； the bridge is so slight； yet he ventures His life to its
fragile keeping； if it fails the waves will engulf him。 O Arches！ be strong
to uphold him； and bear him across to the city； The beautiful city whose
spires still glow with the fires of sunset！
Diya ｛original title is Greek； Delta…iota…psi…alpha｝
Look； Dear； how bright the moonlight is to…night！ See where it casts
the shadow of that tree Far out upon the grass。 And every gust Of light
night wind comes laden with the scent Of opening flowers which never
bloom by day： Night…scented stocks； and four…o'clocks； and that Pale
yellow disk； upreared on its tall stalk； The evening primrose； comrade of
the stars。 It seems as though the garden which you love Were like a
swinging censer； its incense Floating before us as a reverent act To
sanctify and bless our night of love。 Tell me once more you love me； that 't
is you Yes； really you； I touch； so； with my hand； And tell me it is by your
own free will That you are here； and that you like to be Just here； with me；
under this sailing pine。 I need to hear it often for my heart Doubts
naturally； and finds it hard to trust。 Ah； Dearest； you are good to love me
so； And yet I would not have it goodness； rather Excess of selfishness in
you to need Me through and through； as flowers need the sun。 I wonder
can it really be that you And I are here alone； and that the night Is full of
hours； and all the world asleep； And none can call to you to come away；
For you have given all yourself to me Making me gentle by your
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willingness。 Has your life too been waiting for this time； Not only mine
the sharpness of this joy？ Dear Heart； I love you； worship you as though I
were a priest before a holy shrine。 I'm glad that you are beautiful； although
Were you not lovely still I needs must love； But you are all things； it must
have been so For otherwise it were not you。 Come； close； When you are
in the circle of my arm Faith grows a mountain and I take my stand Upon
its utmost top。 Yes； yes； once more Kiss me； and let me feel you very
near Wanting me wholly； even as I want you。 Have years behind been dark？
Will those to come Bring unguessed sorrows into our two lives？ What
does it matter； we have had to…night！ To…night will make us strong； for we
believe Each in the other； this is a sacrament。 Beloved； is it true？
Roads
I know a
