قراءة كتاب Peter Bell the Third
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3.
All things that Peter saw and felt
Had a peculiar aspect to him;
And when they came within the belt 275
Of his own nature, seemed to melt,
Like cloud to cloud, into him.
4.
And so the outward world uniting
To that within him, he became
Considerably uninviting 280
To those who, meditation slighting,
Were moulded in a different frame.
5.
And he scorned them, and they scorned him;
And he scorned all they did; and they
Did all that men of their own trim 285
Are wont to do to please their whim,
Drinking, lying, swearing, play.
6.
Such were his fellow-servants; thus
His virtue, like our own, was built
Too much on that indignant fuss 290
Hypocrite Pride stirs up in us
To bully one another's guilt.
7.
He had a mind which was somehow
At once circumference and centre
Of all he might or feel or know; 295
Nothing went ever out, although
Something did ever enter.
8.
He had as much imagination
As a pint-pot;—he never could
Fancy another situation, 300
From which to dart his contemplation,
Than that wherein he stood.
9.
Yet his was individual mind,
And new created all he saw
In a new manner, and refined 305
Those new creations, and combined
Them, by a master-spirit's law.
10.
Thus—though unimaginative—
An apprehension clear, intense,
Of his mind's work, had made alive 310
The things it wrought on; I believe
Wakening a sort of thought in sense.
11.
But from the first 'twas Peter's drift
To be a kind of moral eunuch,
He touched the hem of Nature's shift, 315
Felt faint—and never dared uplift
The closest, all-concealing tunic.
12.
She laughed the while, with an arch smile,
And kissed him with a sister's kiss,
And said—My best Diogenes, 320
I love you well—but, if you please,
Tempt not again my deepest bliss.
13.
''Tis you are cold—for I, not coy,
Yield love for love, frank, warm, and true;
And Burns, a Scottish peasant boy— 325
His errors prove it—knew my joy
More, learned friend, than you.
14.
'Boeca bacciata non perde ventura,
Anzi rinnuova come fa la luna:—
So thought Boccaccio, whose sweet words might cure a 330
Male prude, like you, from what you now endure, a
Low-tide in soul, like a stagnant laguna.
15.
Then Peter rubbed his eyes severe.
And smoothed his spacious forehead down
With his broad palm;—'twixt love and fear, 335
He looked, as he no doubt felt, queer,
And in his dream sate down.
16.
The Devil was no uncommon creature;
A leaden-witted thief—just huddled
Out of the dross and scum of nature; 340
A toad-like lump of limb and feature,
With mind, and heart, and fancy muddled.
17.
He was that heavy, dull, cold thing,
The spirit of evil well may be:
A drone too base to have a sting; 345
Who gluts, and grimes his lazy wing,
And calls lust, luxury.
18.
Now he was quite the kind of wight
Round whom collect, at a fixed aera,
Venison, turtle, hock, and claret,— 350
Good cheer—and those who come to share it—
And best East Indian madeira!
19.
It was his fancy to invite
Men of science, wit, and learning,
Who came to lend each other light; 355
He proudly thought that his gold's might
Had set those spirits burning.
20.
And men of learning, science, wit,
Considered him as you and I
Think of some rotten tree, and sit 360
Lounging and dining under it,
Exposed to the wide sky.
21.
And all the while with loose fat smile,
The willing wretch sat winking there,
Believing 'twas his power that made 365
That jovial scene—and that all paid
Homage to his unnoticed chair.
22.
Though to be sure this place was Hell;
He was the Devil—and all they—
What though the claret circled well, 370
And wit, like ocean, rose and fell?—
Were damned eternally.
PART 5. GRACE.
Among the guests who often stayed
Till the Devil's petits-soupers,
A man there came, fair as a maid, 375
And Peter noted what he said,
Standing behind his master's chair.
2.
He was a mighty poet—and
A subtle-souled psychologist;
All things he seemed to understand, 380
Of old or new—of sea or land—
But his own mind—which was a mist.
3.
This was a man who might have turned
Hell into Heaven—and so in gladness
A Heaven unto himself have earned; 385
But he in shadows undiscerned
Trusted.—and damned himself to madness.
4.
He spoke of poetry, and how
'Divine it was—a light—a love—
A spirit which like wind doth blow 390
As it listeth, to and fro;
A dew rained down from God above;
5.
'A power which comes and goes like dream,
And which none can ever trace—
Heaven's light on earth—Truth's brightest beam.' 395
And when he ceased there lay the gleam
Of those words upon his face.
6.
Now Peter, when he heard such talk,
Would, heedless of a broken pate,
Stand like a man asleep, or balk 400
Some wishing guest of knife or fork,
Or drop and break his master's plate.
7.
At night he oft would start and wake
Like a lover, and began
In a wild measure songs to make 405
On moor, and glen, and rocky lake,
And on the heart of man—
8.
And on the universal sky—
And the wide earth's bosom green,—
And the sweet, strange mystery 410
Of what beyond these things may lie,
And yet remain unseen.
9.
For in his thought he visited
The spots in which, ere dead and damned,
He his wayward life had led; 415
Yet knew not whence the thoughts were fed
Which thus his fancy crammed.
10.
And these obscure remembrances
Stirred such harmony in Peter,
That,