Imatges de pàgina
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AFTERNOON IN FEBRUARY.

X.

The day is ending,

The night is descending;

The marsh is frozen,

The river dead.

Through clouds like ashes,

The red sun flashes

On village windows

That glimmer red.

The snow recommences;

The buried fences

Mark no longer

The road o'er the plain;

While through the meadows,

Like fearful shadows,

Slowly passes

A funeral train.

The bell is pealing,
And every feeling
Within me responds
To the dismal knell,

Shadows are trailing,
My heart is bewailing,
And tolling within
Like a funeral bell.

Longfellow.

X.

Into ELEGIACS.

And now the day wanes, and the shades of night are gathering; the sluggish stream stops, the marsh stands frozen. As the fitful flame in the hearth, so the sun flashes from the cloud; while the window of the village glitters with red light. A heap of snow being overlaid, now the blocked-up hedge no longer as a boundary fences off the road in the plain. As illomened ghosts, on the edge of the meadow a languid procession comes in funeral train. The mournful bell resounds through the tremulous air; an echo stricken vibrates in our senses. Shades creep along the ground; my heart palpitates within; and my bosom utters, and reiterates funeral strokes.

XI.

I saw a glowworm light his fairy lamp,
Close where a little torrent forced its way
Through broad-leaved water-sedge and alder damp;
Above the glowworm, from some lower spray
Of the near mountain-ash, the silver song
Of night's sweet chorister came clear and strong.

No thrilling note of melancholy wail;

Ne'er pour'd the thrush more musical delight
Through noon-day laurels, than that nightingale,
In the lone forest to the ear of Night:
Ev'n as the light web by Arachne spun,
From bough to bough suspended in the sun,

Ensnares the heedless insect,-so, methought
Midway in air my soul arrested hung
In the melodious meshes; never aught
To mortal lute was so divinely sung!

Surely, O prophet, these the sound and sign;
Which make the lot, the search determines, mine.

Bulwer-King Arthur.

XI.

Into HEXAMETERS.

Its kindled torch brought before my feet the magic fires of the glowworm; where a rapid rivulet, among the broad leaves of the sedges, and by the dank alders, made itself a winding course with torrent streams. But above the little fires of the glowworm, as it were, a silvery voice fell upon the ear in the covert of the ashen bough. Inasmuch as the sweet songstress of night was putting forth clear melody, and yet no shrill modulation of sorrow. Not more, beneath the mid-sun of a summer day, has the thrush with its strains stolen over the inmost senses, than, when the calm night was still around, Philomela urged her harmonious notes in the hiding places of the woods. Just as Arachne suspends from bough to bough her light webs in the glittering glare of the sun, and catches the incautious fly in the midst of her nets; not otherwise, methought, aloft in the pure ather my enthralled mind hung in melodious meshes. Not thus to mortal harp did voice of songster modulated answer! Say, Thou, O dearest Prophet, this sound, this sign, why should it not be given to me as an omen? To follow the footsteps of the king it falls by lot to me alone.

Loud winds bluster,

XII.

The long rains fall;

Yet ripen'd fruits will cluster
Upon tree and wall:

For, wind and darkness passing,

Come flowers and perfume,

And in peace and light that follow

Open foliage and bloom;

Then the corn to full ear, fruit to ripeness,

In order due shall come.

Gusts howl and sweep,

The bitter waters foam

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Yet the mariners on the deep

Shall rest in their home;
For the blue of ocean and of air
Will both again be bright,
And waves and stars will sparkle

In the cool still night;

And, steady winds blowing,

Bring the shore in sight.

Lynch-Theophilus Trinal.

XII.

Into ELEGIACS.

Both the fury and the roar of the winds rise, a shower of stormy water falls from the loaded cloud. But the ripened produce and fruits will cling beneath the shade of the tree,

and on their walls. When the winds, when the dismal darkness has passed, the tender flower, and the scent in the tender flower will return. Peace, and the companion of peace, genial light again will follow, and the beauties and foliage will unfold on the trees. The crops shall flourish with ears of corn, and the fruits ready to fall, in separate order, each in their own time. The fitful blasts of Boreas sweep in the troubled sky, a bitter surge is on the waters of the ocean. To the sailors, who struggle in the water of the dark sea, it shall soon be given to enjoy the wished-for rest. The azure of ocean beneath, and of heaven above, illumined shall resume its wonted glory. Then waves and stars shall gleam, when the gentler hour brings the tender dews of night. Favouring breezes blow continually from the stern, and the near shore is again before their eyes.

Big clouds darken,

XIII.

The lightnings shoot;
Yet again shall we hearken

To the bird's glad note;
For, the heavy drops fallen,

The hidden sun will beam;
The clouds will melt and vanish,
The golden light will stream,
And the freshen'd earth with fragrance

And melody will teem.

All change changing,

Works and brings good;

And though frequent storms raging

Carry fire and flood;

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