قراءة كتاب Sea Spray: Verses and Translations
تنويه: تعرض هنا نبذة من اول ١٠ صفحات فقط من الكتاب الالكتروني، لقراءة الكتاب كاملا اضغط على الزر “اشتر الآن"
اللغة: English
Sea Spray: Verses and Translations
الصفحة رقم: 5
class="i0">And far to Southward I can see
The purple mountain ridges.
My fellow-travellers pretermit,
Seeing there is no danger,
That anxious glance with which we greet
The presence of a stranger.
Whom have we? First, some man of means
(I guess), brow-wrinkled, dull-eyed,
His face the index of a soul
By cares unworthy sullied.
Seeing there is no danger,
That anxious glance with which we greet
The presence of a stranger.
Whom have we? First, some man of means
(I guess), brow-wrinkled, dull-eyed,
His face the index of a soul
By cares unworthy sullied.
And then a lady, whom I deem
Some mask of Fashion merely;
And last, a maid of nineteen years,
Who, since I’ve seen her clearly,
Has won the careless glance I gave
To linger, as delighted
As with some green-rimmed waterspring
In midst of deserts blighted.
Some mask of Fashion merely;
And last, a maid of nineteen years,
Who, since I’ve seen her clearly,
Has won the careless glance I gave
To linger, as delighted
As with some green-rimmed waterspring
In midst of deserts blighted.
What is her charm? Not very fair,
Nor luring to the senses—
And yet her frank and girlish grace,
Her lack of small pretences,
Her clear, unconscious hazel eyes,
Pure lips, and simple neatness,
Fill my heart as I gaze on her
With deep and tender sweetness.
······
Nor luring to the senses—
And yet her frank and girlish grace,
Her lack of small pretences,
Her clear, unconscious hazel eyes,
Pure lips, and simple neatness,
Fill my heart as I gaze on her
With deep and tender sweetness.
······
The train has rolled without a break
For half an hour or more, perhaps;
My wealthy cit has fall’n asleep,
Will soon begin to snore, perhaps;
Kind Morpheus touch’d him as he scanned
The last returns of traffic—
The lady clad in furs and silks
Is trifling with her Graphic.
For half an hour or more, perhaps;
My wealthy cit has fall’n asleep,
Will soon begin to snore, perhaps;
Kind Morpheus touch’d him as he scanned
The last returns of traffic—
The lady clad in furs and silks
Is trifling with her Graphic.
The maiden looks with dreaming eyes
As wood and field and river
Flash past our roaring carriage-wheels
In whirling dance forever.
What are the thoughts that smooth her brows
To such content, I wonder,
While clangs about our silent group
The railroad’s rhythmic thunder?
As wood and field and river
Flash past our roaring carriage-wheels
In whirling dance forever.
What are the thoughts that smooth her brows
To such content, I wonder,
While clangs about our silent group
The railroad’s rhythmic thunder?
But now more slow the landscape moves—
We reach a little station—
And how the maiden’s face has changed,
Lit up with expectation!
A brother, with his sister’s eyes,
Brown-cheeked from sun and heather,
Awaits her; and with half a sigh
I watch them leave together.
We reach a little station—
And how the maiden’s face has changed,
Lit up with expectation!
A brother, with his sister’s eyes,
Brown-cheeked from sun and heather,
Awaits her; and with half a sigh
I watch them leave together.
The heavy train regathers speed,
And minute after minute
The country station drops behind—
Some spell is surely in it!
For now my fellow-travellers seem
No mark for peevish scorning—
Those withered lives had surely once
The innocence of morning.
And minute after minute
The country station drops behind—
Some spell is surely in it!
For now my fellow-travellers seem
No mark for peevish scorning—
Those withered lives had surely once
The innocence of morning.
But ah, the world’s use, soon or late,
Dispels the early glamour,
And faint the spheral music rings
In this incessant clamour!
Save when, at times, in some strange lull
Of tyrannous self-seeking,
The heart of memory is thrilled
By ancient voices speaking.
Dispels the early glamour,
And faint the spheral music rings
In this incessant clamour!
Save when, at times, in some strange lull
Of tyrannous self-seeking,
The heart of memory is thrilled
By ancient voices speaking.
And then the cloud in which we walk
Rolls by us, and from dreaming
We wake to see the primal world
In beauty round us gleaming;
Then common things to common eyes
Their secret life surrender,
And glow beneath the light of day
With visionary splendour.
Rolls by us, and from dreaming
We wake to see the primal world
In beauty round us gleaming;
Then common things to common eyes
Their secret life surrender,
And glow beneath the light of day
With visionary splendour.
·······
What wrought me so? I only know
I bowed in homage ardent
Before some high mysterious Power
A heart a little hardened.
That glory flashed upon a soul
By doubt and self o’erladen,
When all I saw in very sooth
Was but a simple maiden.
I bowed in homage ardent
Before some high mysterious Power
A heart a little hardened.
That glory flashed upon a soul
By doubt and self o’erladen,
When all I saw in very sooth
Was but a simple maiden.
In the airy whirling wheel is the springing strength of steel,
And the sinews grow to steel, day by day,
Till you feel your pulses leap at the easy swing and sweep
As the hedges flicker past upon the way.
Then it’s out to the kiss of the morning breeze,
And the rose of the morning sky,
And the long brown road, where the tired spirit’s load
Slips off as the leagues go by!
And the sinews grow to steel, day by day,
Till you feel your pulses leap at the easy swing and sweep
As the hedges flicker past upon the way.
Then it’s out to the kiss of the morning breeze,
And the rose of the morning sky,
And the long brown road, where the tired spirit’s load
Slips off as the leagues go by!
Black-and-silver, swift and strong, with a pleasant undersong
From the steady rippling murmur of the chain—
Half a thing of life and will, you may feel it start and thrill
With a quick elastic answer to the strain,
As you ride to the kiss of the morning breeze,
And the rose of the morning sky,
And the long brown road, where the tired spirit’s load
Slips off as the leagues go by!
From the steady rippling murmur of the chain—
Half a thing of life and will, you may feel it start and thrill
With a quick elastic answer to the strain,
As you ride to the kiss of the morning breeze,
And the rose of the morning sky,
And the long brown road, where the tired spirit’s load
Slips off as the leagues go by!
Miles a hundred you may run from the rising of the sun
To the gleam of the first white star;
You may ride through twenty towns, meet the sun upon the downs
And the wind on the mountain scaur.
Then it’s out to the kiss of the morning breeze
And the rose of the morning sky,
And the long brown road, where the tired spirit’s load
Slips off as the leagues go by!
To the gleam of the first white star;
You may ride through twenty towns, meet the sun upon the downs
And the wind on the mountain scaur.
Then it’s out to the kiss of the morning breeze
And the rose of the morning sky,
And the long brown road, where the tired spirit’s load
Slips off as the leagues go by!
Down the fragrant country-side, through the woodland’s summer pride
You have come in your forenoon spin;
And you never would have guessed how delicious is the rest
In the shade by the wayside inn,
When you’ve sought the kiss of the morning breeze
And the rose
You have come in your forenoon spin;
And you never would have guessed how delicious is the rest
In the shade by the wayside inn,
When you’ve sought the kiss of the morning breeze
And the rose