r. f. murray-第11章

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Now　my　sense　is　never　so　clear。　It　cheats　my　heart；　Making　me　start　A　thousand　times；　when　she　is　not　near。

When　she　is　not　near；　but　so　far　away；　I　could　not　come　To　the　place　of　her　home；　Though　I　travelled　and　sought　for　a　month　and　a　day。

Do　you　wonder　then　if　I　wish　the　street　Were　grown　with　grass；　And　no　foot　might　pass　Till　she　treads　it　again　with　her　sacred　feet？



FOR　A　PRESENT　OF　ROSES



Crimson　and　cream　and　white　…　My　room　is　a　garden　of　roses！　Centre　and　left　and　right；　Three　several　splendid　posies。

As　the　sender　is；　they　are　sweet；　These　lovely　gifts　of　your　sending；　With　the　stifling　summer　heat　Their　delicate　fragrance　blending。

What　more　can　my　heart　desire？　Has　it　lost　the　power　to　be　grateful？　Is　it　only　a　burnt…out　fire；　Whose　ashes　are　dull　and　hateful？

Yet　still　to　itself　it　doth　say；　‘I　should　have　loved　far　better　To　have　found；　coming　in　to…day；　The　merest　scrap　of　a　letter。'



IN　TIME　OF　SORROW



Despair　is　in　the　suns　that　shine；　And　in　the　rains　that　fall；　This　sad　forsaken　soul　of　mine　Is　weary　of　them　all。

They　fall　and　shine　on　alien　streets　From　those　I　love　and　know。　I　cannot　hear　amid　the　heats　The　North　Sea's　freshening　flow

The　people　hurry　up　and　down；　Like　ghosts　that　cannot　lie；　And　wandering　through　the　phantom　town　The　weariest　ghost　am　I。



A　NEW　SONG　TO　AN　OLD　TUNEFROM　VICTOR　HUGO



If　a　pleasant　lawn　there　grow　By　the　showers　caressed；　Where　in　all　the　seasons　blow　Flowers　gaily　dressed；　Where　by　handfuls　one　may　win　Lilies；　woodbine；　jessamine；　I　will　make　a　path　therein　For　thy　feet　to　rest。

If　there　live　in　honour's　sway　An　all…loving　breast　Whose　devotion　cannot　stray；　Never　gloom…oppressed　…　If　this　noble　breast　still　wake　For　a　worthy　motive's　sake；　There　a　pillow　I　will　make　For　thy　head　to　rest。

If　there　be　a　dream　of　love；　Dream　that　God　has　blest；　Yielding　daily　treasure…trove　Of　delightful　zest；　With　the　scent　of　roses　filled；　With　the　soul's　communion　thrilled；　There；　oh！　there　a　nest　I'll　build　For　thy　heart　to　rest。



THE　FIDDLER



There's　a　fiddler　in　the　street；　And　the　children　all　are　dancing：　Two　dozen　lightsome　feet　Springing　and　prancing。

Pleasure　he　gives　to　you；　Dance　then；　and　spare　not！　For　the　poor　fiddler's　due；　Know　not　and　care　not。

While　you　are　prancing；　Let　the　fiddler　play。　When　you're　tired　of　dancing　He　may　go　away。



THE　FIRST　MEETING



Last　night　for　the　first　time；　O　Heart's　Delight；　I　held　your　hand　a　moment　in　my　own；　The　dearest　moment　which　my　soul　has　known；　Since　I　beheld　and　loved　you　at　first　sight。

I　left　you；　and　I　wandered　in　the　night；　Under　the　rain；　beside　the　ocean's　moan。　All　was　black　dark；　but　in　the　north　alone　There　was　a　glimmer　of　the　Northern　Light。

My　heart　was　singing　like　a　happy　bird；　Glad　of　the　present；　and　from　forethought　free；　Save　for　one　note　amid　its　music　heard：　God　grant；　whatever　end　of　this　may　be；　That　when　the　tale　is　told；　the　final　word　May　be　of　peace　and　benison　to　thee。



A　CRITICISM　OF　CRITICS



How　often　have　the　critics；　trained　To　look　upon　the　sky　Through　telescopes　securely　chained；　Forgot　the　naked　eye。

Within　the　compass　of　their　glass　Each　smallest　star　they　knew；　And　not　a　meteor　could　pass　But　they　were　looking　through。

When　a　new　planet　shed　its　rays　Beyond　their　field　of　vision；　And　simple　folk　ran　out　to　gaze；　They　laughed　in　high　derision。

They　railed　upon　the　senseless　throng　Who　cheered　the　brave　new　light。　And　yet　the　learned　men　were　wrong；　The　simple　folk　were　right。



MY　LADY



My　Lady　of　all　ladies！　　Queen　by　right　Of　tender　beauty；　full　of　gentle　moods；　With　eyes　that　look　divine　beatitudes；　Large　eyes　illumined　with　her　spirit's　light；

Lips　that　are　lovely　both　by　sound　and　sight；　Breathing　such　music　as　the　dove；　which　broods　Within　the　dark　and　silence　of　the　woods；　Croons　to　the　mate　that　is　her　heart's　delight。

Where　is　a　line；　in　cloud　or　wave　or　hill；　To　match　the　curve　which　rounds　her　soft…flushed　cheek？　A　colour；　in　the　sky　of　morn　or　of　even；　To　match　that　flush？　　Ah；　let　me　now　be　still！　If　of　her　spirit　I　should　strive　to　speak；　I　should　come　short；　as　earth　comes　short　of　heaven。



PARTNERSHIP　IN　FAME



Love；　when　the　present　is　become　the　past；　And　dust　has　covered　all　that　now　is　new；　When　many　a　fame　has　faded　out　of　view；　And　many　a　later　fame　is　fading　fast　…

If　then　these　songs　of　mine　might　hope　to　last；　Which　sing　most　sweetly　when　they　sing　of　you；　Though　queen　and　empress　wore　oblivion's　hue；　Your　loveliness　would　not　be　overcast。

Now；　while　the　present　stays　with　you　and　me；　In　love's　copartnery　our　hearts　combine；　Life's　loss　and　gain　in　equal　shares　to　take。　Partners　in　fame　our　memories　then　would　be：　Your　name　remembered　for　my　songs；　and　mine　Still　unforgotten　for　your　sweetness'　sake。



A　CHRISTMAS　FANCY



Early　on　Christmas　Day；　Love；　as　awake　I　lay；　And　heard　the　Christmas　bells　ring　sweet　and　clearly；　My　heart　stole　through　the　gloom　Into　your　silent　room；　And　whispered　to　your　heart；　‘I　love　you　dearly。'

There；　in　the　dark　profound；　Your　heart　was　sleeping　sound；　And　dreaming　some　fair　dream　of　summer　weather。　At　my　heart's　word　it　woke；　And；　ere　the　morning　broke；　They　sang　a　Christmas　carol　both　together。

Glory　to　God　on　high！　Stars　of　the　morning　sky；　Sing　as　ye　sang　upon　the　first　creation；　When　all　the　Sons　of　God　Shouted　for　joy　abroad；　And　earth　was　laid　upon　a　sure　foundation。

Glory　to　God　again！　Peace　and　goodwill　to　men；　And　kindly　feeling　all　the　wide　world　over；　Where　friends　with　joy　and　mirth　Meet　round　the　Christmas　hearth；　Or　dreams　of　home　the　solitary　rover。

Glory　to　God！　　True　hearts；　Lo；　now　the　dark　departs；　And　morning　on　the　snow…clad　hills　grows　grey。　Oh；　may　love's　dawning　light　Kindled　from　loveless　night；　Shine　more　and　more　unto　the　perfect　day！



THE　BURIAL　OF　WILLIAMTHE　CONQUEROR



Oh；　who　may　this　dead　warrior　be　That　to　his　grave　they　bring？　‘Tis　William；　Duke　of　Normandy；　The　conqueror　and　king。

Across　the　sea；　with　fire　and　sword；　The　English　crown　he　won；　The　lawless　Scots　they　owned　him　lord；　But　now　his　rule　is　done。

A　king　should　die　from　length　of　years；　A　conqueror　in　the　field；　A　king　amid　his　people's　tears；　A　conqueror　on　his　shield。

But　he；　who　ruled　by　sword　and　flame；　Who　swore　to　ravage　France；　Like　some　poor　serf　without　a　name；　Has　died　by　mere　mischance。

To　Caen　now　he　comes　to　sleep；　The　minster　bells　they　toll；　A　solemn　sound　it　is　and　deep；　May　God　receive　his　soul！

With　priests　that　chant　a　wailing　hymn；　He　slowly　comes　this　way；　To　where　the　painted　windows　dim　The　lively　light　of　day。

He　enters　in。　　The　townsfolk　stand　In　reverent　silence　round；　To　see　the　lord　of　all　the　land　Take　house　in　narrow　ground。

While；　in　the　dwelling…place　he　seeks；　To　lay　him　they　prepare；　One　Asselin　FitzArthur　speaks；　And　bids　the　priests　forbear。

‘The　ground　whereon　this　abbey　stands　Is　mine；'　he　cries；　‘by　right。　‘Twas　wrested　from　my　father's　hands　By　lawlessness　and　might。

Duke　William　took　the　land　away；　To　build　this　minster　high。　Bury　the　robber　where　ye　may；　But　here　he　shall　not　lie。'

The　holy　brethren　bid　him　cease；　But　he　will　not　be　stilled；　And　soon　the　house　of　God's　own　peace　With　noise　and　strife　is　filled。

And　some　cry　shame　on　Asselin；　Such　tumult　to　excite；　Some　say；　it　was　Duke　William's　sin；　And　Asselin　does　right。

But　he　round　whom　their　quarrels　keep；　Lies　still　and　takes　no　heed。　No　strife　can　mar　a　dead　man's　sleep；　And　this　is　rest　indeed。

Now　Asselin　at　length　is　won　The　land's　full　price　to　take；　And　let　the　burial　rites　go　on；　And　so　a　peace　they　make。

When　Harold；　king　of　Englishmen；　Was　killed　in　Senlac　fight；　Duke　William　would　not　yield　him　then　A　Christian　grave　or　rite。

Because　he　fought　for　keeping　free　His　kingdom　and　his　throne；　No　Christian　rite　nor　grave　had　he　In　land　that　was　his　own。

And　just　it　is；　this　Duke　unkind；　Now　he　has　come　to　die；　In　plundered　land　should　hardly　find　Sufficient　space　to　lie。



THE　DEATH　OF　WILLIAM　RUFUS



The　Red　King's　gone　a…hunting；　in　the　woods　his　father　made　For　the　tall　red　deer　to　wander　through　the　thicket　and　the　glade；　The　King　and　Walter　Tyrrel；　Prince　Henry　and　the　rest　Are　all　gone　out　upon　the　sport　the　Red　King　loves　the　best。

Last　night；　when　they　were　feasting　in　the　royal　banquet…hall；　De　Breteuil　told　a　dream　he　had；　that　evil　would　befall　If　the　King　should　go　to…morrow　to　the　hunting　of　the　deer；　And　while　he　spoke；　the　fiery　face　grew　well…nigh　pale　to　hear。

He　drank　until　the　fire　came　back；　and　all　his　heart　was　brave；　Then　bade　them　keep　such　woman's　tales　to　tell　an　English　slave；　For　he　would　hunt　to…morrow；　though　a　thousand　dreams　foretold　All　the　sorrow　and　the　mischief　De　Breteuil's　brain　could　hold。

So　the　Red　King's　gone　a…hunting；　for　all　that　they　could　do；　And　an　arrow　in　the　greenwood　made　De　Breteuil's　dream　come　true。　They　said　‘twas　Walter　Tyrrel；　and　so　it　may　have　been；　But　there's　many　walk　the　forest　when　the　leaves　are　thick　and　green。

There's　many　walk　the　forest；　who　would　gladly　see　the　sport；　When　the　King　goes　out　a…hunting　with　the　nobles　of　his　court；　And　when　the　nobles　scatter；　and　the　King　is　left　alone；　There　are　thickets　where　an　English　slave　might　string　his　bow　unknown。

The　forest　laws　are　cruel；　and　the　time　is　hard　as　steel　To　English　slaves；　trod　down　and　bruised　beneath　the　Norman　heel。　Like　worms　they　writhe；　but　by…and…by　the　Norman　heel　may　learn　There　are　worms　that　carry　poison；　and　that　are　not　slow　to　turn。

The　lords　came　back；　by　one　and　two；　from　straying　far　apart；　And　they　found　the　Red　King　lying　with　an　arrow　in　his　heart。　Who　should　have　done　the　deed；　but　him　by　whom　it　first　was　seen？　So　they　said　‘twas　Walter　Tyrrel；　and　so　it　may　have　been。

They　cried　upon　Prince　Henry；　the　brother　of　the　King；　And　he　came　up　the　greenwood；　and　rode　into　the　ring。　He　looked　upon　his　brother's　face；　and　then　he　turned　away；　And　galloped　off　to　Winchester；　where　all　the　treasure　lay。

‘God　strike　me；'　cried　De　Breteuil；　‘but　brothers'　blood　is　thin！　And　why　should　ours　be　thicker　that　are　neither　kith　nor　kin？'　They　spurred　their　horses　in　the　flank；　and　swiftly　thence　they　passed；　But　Walter　Tyrrel　lingered　and　forsook　his　liege　the　last。

They　say　it　was　enchantment；　that　fixed　him　to　the　scene；　To　look　upon　his　traitor's　work；　and　so　it　may　have　been。　But　presently　he　got　to　horse；　and　took　the　seaward　way；　And　all　alone　within　the　glade；　in　state　the　Red　King　lay。

Then　a　creaking　cart　came　slowly；　which　a　charcoal…burner　drove。　He　found　the　dead　man　lying；　a　ghastly　treasure…trove；　He　raised　the　corpse　for　charity；　and　on　his　wagon　laid；　And　so　the　Red　King　drove　in　state　from　out　the　forest　glade。

His　hair　was　like　a　yellow　flame　about　the　bloated　face；　The　blood　had　stained　his　tunic　from　the　fatal　arrow…place。　Not　good　to　look　upon　was　he；　in　life；　nor　yet　when　dead。　The　driver　of　the　cart　drove　on；　and　never　turned　his　head。

When　next　the　nobles　throng　at　night　the　royal　banquet…hall；　Another　King　will　rule　the　feast；　the　drinking　and　the　brawl；　While　Walter　Tyrrel　walks　alone　upon　the　Norman　shore；　And　the　Red　King　in　the　fo