the home book of verse-1-第49章
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A PORTRAIT
〃One name is Elizabeth〃 Ben Jonson
I will paint her as I see her。
Ten times have the lilies blown
Since she looked upon the sun。
And her face is lily…clear；
Lily…shaped； and dropped in duty
To the law of its own beauty。
Oval cheeks encolored faintly；
Which a trail of golden hair
Keeps from fading off to air：
And a forehead fair and saintly；
Which two blue eyes undershine；
Like meek prayers before a shrine。
Face and figure of a child； …
Though too calm； you think； and tender；
For the childhood you would lend her。
Yet child…simple； undefiled；
Frank； obedient； waiting still
On the turnings of your will。
Moving light； as all young things；
As young birds； or early wheat
When the wind blows over it。
Only； free from flutterings
Of loud mirth that scorneth measure …
Taking love for her chief pleasure。
Choosing pleasures； for the rest；
Which come softly … just as she；
When she nestles at your knee。
Quiet talk she liketh best；
In a bower of gentle looks； …
Watering flowers； or reading books。
And her voice； it murmurs lowly；
As a silver stream may run；
Which yet feels （you feel） the sun。
And her smile it seems half holy；
As if drawn from thoughts more far
Than our common jestings are。
And if any poet knew her；
He would sing of her with falls
Used in lovely madrigals。
And if any painter drew her；
He would paint her unaware
With a halo round her hair。
And if reader read the poem；
He would whisper … 〃You have done a
Consecrated little Una！〃
And a dreamer （did you show him
That same picture） would exclaim；
〃'Tis my angel； with a name！〃
And a stranger； … when he sees her
In the street even … smileth stilly；
Just as you would at a lily。
And all voices that address her；
Soften； sleeken every word；
As if speaking to a bird。
And all fancies yearn to cover
The hard earth； whereon she passes；
With the thymy…scented grasses。
And all hearts do pray； 〃God love her！〃
Ay and always； in good sooth；
We may all be sure HE DOTH。
Elizabeth Barrett Browning ＇1806…1861＇
TO A CHILD OF FANCY
The nests are in the hedgerows；
The lambs are on the grass；
With laughter sweet as music
The hours lightfooted pass；
My darling child of fancy；
My winsome prattling lass。
Blue eyes； with long brown lashes；
Thickets of golden curl；
Red little lips disclosing
Twin rows of fairy pearl；
Cheeks like the apple blossom；
Voice lightsome as the merle。
A whole Spring's fickle changes；
In every short…lived day；
A passing cloud of April；
A flowery smile of May；
A thousand quick mutations
From graver moods to gay。
Far off； I see the season
When thy childhood's course is run；
And thy girlhood opens wider
Beneath the growing sun；
And the rose begins to redden；
But the violets are done。
And further still the summer；
When thy fair tree； fully grown；
Shall bourgeon； and grow splendid
With blossoms of its own；
And the fruit begins to gather；
But the buttercups are mown。
If I should see thy autumn；
'Twill not be close at hand；
But with a spirit vision；
From some far…distant land。
Or； perhaps； I hence may see thee
Amongst the angels stand。
I know not what of fortune
The future holds for thee；
Nor if skies fair or clouded
Wait thee in days to be；
But neither joy nor sorrow
Shall sever thee from me。
Dear child； whatever changes
Across our lives may pass；
I shall see thee still for ever；
Clearly as in a glass；
The same sweet child of fancy；
The same dear winsome lass。
Lewis Morris ＇1833…1907＇
DAISY
Where the thistle lifts a purple crown
Six foot out of the turf；
And the harebell shakes on the windy hill …
O the breath of the distant surf！ …
The hills look over on the South；
And southward dreams the sea；
And with the sea…breeze hand in hand
Came innocence and she。
Where 'mid the gorse the raspberry
Red for the gatherer springs；
Two children did we stray and talk
Wise； idle； childish things。
She listened with big…lipped surprise；
Breast…deep 'mid flower and spine：
Her skin was like a grape； whose veins
Run snow instead of wine。
She knew not those sweet words she spake；
Nor knew her own sweet way；
But there's never a bird； so sweet a song
Thronged in whose throat that day！
Oh； there were flowers in Storrington
On the turf and on the spray；
But the sweetest flower on Sussex hills
Was the Daisy…flower that day！
Her beauty smoothed earth's furrowed face！
She gave me tokens three： …
A look； a word of her winsome mouth；
And a wild raspberry。
A berry red； a guileless look；
A still word； … strings of sand！
And yet they made my wild； wild heart
Fly down to her little hand。
For standing artless as the air；
And candid as the skies；
She took the berries with her hand；
And the love with her sweet eyes。
The fairest things have fleetest end：
Their scent survives their close；
But the rose's scent is bitterness
To him that loved the rose！
She looked a little wistfully；
Then went her sunshine way： …
The sea's eye had a mist on it；
And the leaves fell from the day。
She went her unremembering way；
She went and left in me
The pang of all the partings gone；
And partings yet to be。
She left me marveling why my soul
Was sad that she was glad；
At all the sadness in the sweet；
The sweetness in the sad。
Still； still I seemed to see her； still
Look up with soft replies；
And take the berries with her hand；
And the love with her lovely eyes。
Nothing begins； and nothing ends；
That is not paid with moan；
For we are born in others' pain；
And perish in our own。
Francis Thompson ＇1859？…1907＇
TO PETRONILLA WHO HAS PUT UP HER HAIR
Yesterday it blew alway；
Yesterday is dead；
Now forever must it stay
Coiled about your head；
Tell me Whence the great Command
Hitherward has sped。
〃Silly boy； as if I knew；〃
Petronilla said。
Nay； but I am very sure；
Since you left my side；
Something has befallen you；
You are fain to hide；
Homage has been done to you；
Innocents have died。
〃Silly boy； and what of that？〃
Petronilla cried。
Petronilla； much I fear
Scarcely have you wept
All those merry yesterdays；
Slaughtered whilst you slept；
Slain to bind that pretty crown
Closer round your head。
〃Silly boy； as if I cared；〃
Petronilla said。
Henry Howarth Bashford ＇1880…
THE GYPSY GIRL
Passing I saw her as she stood beside
A lonely stream between two barren wolds；
Her loose vest hung in rudely gathered folds
On her swart bosom； which in maiden pride
Pillowed a string of pearls； among her hair
Twined the light bluebell and the stone…crop gay；
And not far thence the small encampment lay；
Curling its wreathed smoke into the air。
She seemed a child of some sun…favored clime；
So still； so habited to warmth and rest；
And in my wayward musings on past time；
When my thought fills with treasured memories；
That image nearest borders on the blest
Creations of pure art that never dies。
Henry Alford ＇1810…1871＇
FANNY
A Southern Blossom
Come and see her as she stands；
Crimson roses in her hands；
And her eyes
Are as dark as Southern night；
Yet than Southern dawn more bright；
And a soft； alluring light
In them lies。
None deny if she beseech
With that pretty； liquid speech
Of the South。
All her consonants are slurred；
And the vowels are preferred；
There's a poem in each word
From that mouth。
Even Cupid is her slave；
Of her arrows； half he gave
Her one day
In a merry； playful hour。
Dowered with these and beauty's dower；
Strong indeed her magic power；
So they say。
Venus； not to be outdone
By her generous little son；
Shaped the mouth
Very like to Cupid's bow。
Lack…a…day！ Our North can show
No such lovely flowers as grow
In the South！
Anne Reeve Aldrich ＇1866…1892＇
SOMEBODY'S CHILD
Just a picture of Somebody's child； …
Sweet face set in golden hair；
Violet eyes； and cheeks of rose；
Rounded chin； with a dimple there；
Tender eyes where the shadows sleep；
Lit from within by a secret ray； …
Tender eyes that will shine like stars
When love and womanhood come this way：
Scarlet lips with a story to tell； …
Blessed be he who shall find it out；
Who shall learn the eyes' deep secret well；
And read the heart with never a doubt。
Then you will tremble； scarlet lips；
Then you will crimson； loveliest cheeks：
Eyes will brighten and blushes will burn
When the one true lover bends and speaks。
But she's only a child now； as you see；
Only a child in her careless grace：
When Love and Womanhood come this way
Will anything sadden the flower…like face？
Louise Chandler Moulton ＇1835…1908＇
EMILIA
Halfway up the Hemlock valley turnpike；
In the bend of Silver Water's arm；
Where the deer come trooping down at even；
Drink the cowslip pool； and fear no harm；
Dwells Emilia；
Flower of the fields of Camlet Farm。
Sitting sewing by the western window
As the too brief mountain sunshine flies；
Hast thou seen a slender…shouldered figure
With a chestnut braid； Minerva…wise；
Round her temples；
Shadowing her gray； enchanted eyes？
When the freshets flood the Silver Water；
When the swallow flying northward braves
Sleeting rains that sweep the birchen foothills
Where the windflowers' pale plantation waves …
（Fairy gardens
Springing from the dead leaves in their graves）； …
Falls forgotten； then； Emilia's needle；
Ancient ballads； fleeting through her brain；
Sing the cuckoo and the English primrose；
Outdoors calling with a quaint refrain；
And a rainbow
Seems to brighten through the gusty rain。
Forth she goes； in some old dress and faded；
Fearless of the showery shifting wind；
Kilted are her skirts to clear the mosses；
And her bright braids in a 'kerchief pinned；
Younger sister
Of the damsel…errant Rosalind。
While she helps to serve the harvest supper
In the lantern…lighted village hall；
Moonlight rises on the burning woodland；
Echoes dwindle from the distant Fall。
Hark； Emilia！
In her ear the airy voices call。
Hidden papers in the dusty garret；
Where her few and secret poems lie； …
Thither flies her heart to join her treasure；
While she serves； with absent…musing eye；
Mighty tankards
Foaming cider in the glasses high。
〃Would she mingle with her young companions！〃
Vainly do her aunts and uncles say；
Ever； from the village sports and dances；
Early missed； Emilia slips away。
Whither vanished？
With what unimagined mates to play？
Did they seek her； wandering by the wat
