r. f. murray-第8章
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We went to bed； but one at least Went not to sleep till the black turned grey； And the sun rose up； and the light increased； And the birds awoke to a summer day。
And sometimes now； when the nights are mild； And the moon is away； and no stars shine； I wander out； and I go half…wild； To think of the kiss which was not mine。
Let great minds laugh at a grief so small； Let small minds laugh at a fool so great。 Kind maidens； pity me； one and all。 Shy youths； take warning by this my fate。
THE CAGED THRUSH
Alas for the bird who was born to sing！ They have made him a cage； they have clipped his wing； They have shut him up in a dingy street； And they praise his singing and call it sweet。 But his heart and his song are saddened and filled With the woods； and the nest he never will build； And the wild young dawn coming into the tree； And the mate that never his mate will be。 And day by day； when his notes are heard They freshen the streetbut alas for the bird
MIDNIGHT
The air is dark and fragrant With memories of a shower； And sanctified with stillness By this most holy hour。
The leaves forget to whisper Of soft and secret things； And every bird is silent； With folded eyes and wings。
O blessed hour of midnight； Of sleep and of release； Thou yieldest to the toiler The wages of thy peace。
And I； who have not laboured； Nor borne the heat of noon； Receive thy tranquil quiet … An undeserved boon。
Yes； truly God is gracious； Who makes His sun to shine Upon the good and evil； And idle lives like mine。
Upon the just and unjust He sends His rain to fall； And gives this hour of blessing Freely alike to all。
WHERE'S THE USE
Oh； where's the use of having gifts that can't be turned to money？ And where's the use of singing； when there's no one wants to hear？ It may be one or two will say your songs are sweet as honey； But where's the use of honey； when the loaf of bread is dear？
A MAY…DAY MADRIGAL
The sun shines fair on Tweedside； the river flowing bright； Your heart is full of pleasure； your eyes are full of light； Your cheeks are like the morning； your pearls are like the dew； Or morning and her dew…drops are like your pearls and you。
Because you are a princess； a princess of the land； You will not turn your lightsome eyes a moment where I stand； A poor unnoticed poet； a…making of his rhymes； But I have found a mistress； more fair a thousand times。
‘Tis May； the elfish maiden； the daughter of the Spring； Upon whose birthday morning the birds delight to sing。 They would not sing one note for you； if you should so command； Although you are a princess； a princess of the land。
SONG IS NOT DEAD
Song is not dead； although to…day Men tell us everything is said。 There yet is something left to say； Song is not dead。
While still the evening sky is red； While still the morning gold and grey； While still the autumn leaves are shed；
While still the heart of youth is gay； And honour crowns the hoary head； While men and women love and pray Song is not dead。
A SONG OF TRUCE
Till the tread of marching feet Through the quiet grass…grown street Of the little town shall come； Soldier； rest awhile at home。
While the banners idly hang； While the bugles do not clang； While is hushed the clamorous drum； Soldier； rest awhile at home。
In the breathing…time of Death； While the sword is in its sheath； While the cannon's mouth is dumb； Soldier； rest awhile at home。
Not too long the rest shall be。 Soon enough； to Death and thee； The assembly call shall come。 Soldier； rest awhile at home。
ONE TEAR
Last night； when at parting Awhile we did stand； Suddenly starting； There fell on my hand
Something that burned it； Something that shone In the moon as I turned it； And then it was gone。
One bright stray jewel … What made it stray？ Was I cold or cruel； At the close of day？
Oh； do not cry； lass！ What is crying worth？ There is no lass like my lass In the whole wide earth。
A LOVER'S CONFESSION
When people tell me they have loved But once in youth； I wonder； are they always moved To speak the truth？
Not that they wilfully deceive： They fondly cherish A constancy which they would grieve To think might perish。
They cherish it until they think ‘Twas always theirs。 So； if the truth they sometimes blink； ‘Tis unawares。
Yet unawares； I must profess； They do deceive Themselves； and those who questionless Their tale believe。
For I have loved； I freely own； A score of times； And woven； out of love alone； A hundred rhymes。
Boys will be fickle。 Yet； when all Is said and done； I was not one whom you could call A flirtnot one
Of those who into three or four Their hearts divide。 My queens came singly to the door； Not side by side。
Each； while she reigned； possessed alone My spirit loyal； Then left an undisputed throne To one more royal；
To one more fair in form and face Sweeter and stronger； Who filled the throne with truer grace； And filled it longer。
So； love by love； they came and passed； These loves of mine； And each one brighter than the last Their lights did shine。
Untilbut am I not too free； Most courteous stranger； With secrets which belong to me？ There is a danger。
Until； I say； the perfect love； The last； the best； Like flame descending from above； Kindled my breast；
Kindled my breast like ardent flame； With quenchless glow。 I knew not love until it came； But now I know。
You smile。 The twenty loves before Were each in turn； You say； the final flame that o'er My soul should burn。
Smile on； my friend。 I will not say You have no reason； But if the love I feel to…day Depart； ‘tis treason！
If this depart； not once again Will I on paper Declare the loves that waste and wane； Like some poor taper。
No； no！ This flame； I cannot doubt； Despite your laughter； Will burn till Death shall put it out； And may be after。
TRAFALGAR SQUARE
These verses have I pilfered like a bee Out of a letter from my C。 C。 C。 In London； showing what befell him there； With other things； of interest to me。
One page described a night in open air He spent last summer in Trafalgar Square； With men and women who by want are driven Thither for lodging； when the nights are fair。
No roof there is between their heads and heaven； No warmth but what by ragged clothes is given； No comfort but the company of those Who with despair； like them； have vainly striven。
On benches there uneasily they doze； Snatching brief morsels of a poor repose； And if through weariness they might sleep sound； Their eyes must open almost ere they close。
With even tramp upon the paven ground； Twice every hour the night patrol comes round To clear these wretches off； who may not keep The miserable couches they have found。
Yet the stern shepherds of the poor black sheep Will soften when they see a woman weep。 There was a mother there who strove in vain； With sobs； to hush a starving child to sleep。
And through the night which took so long to wane； He saw sad sufferers relieving pain； And daughters of iniquity and scorn Performing deeds which God will not disdain。
There was a girl； forlorn of the forlorn； Whose dress was white； but draggled； soiled； and torn； Who wandered like a ghost without a home。 She spoke to him before the day was born。
She； who all night； when spoken to； was dumb； Earning dislike from most； abuse from some； Now asked the hour； and when he told her ‘Two；' Wailed； ‘O my God； will daylight never come？'
Yes； it will come； and change the sky anew From star…besprinkled black to sunlit blue； And bring sweet thoughts and innocent desires To countless girls。 What will it bring to you？
A SUMMER MORNING
Never was sun so bright before； No matin of the lark so sweet； No grass so green beneath my feet； Nor with such dewdrops jewelled o'er。
I stand with thee outside the door； The air not yet is close with heat； And far across the yellowing wheat The waves are breaking on the shore。
A lovely day！ Yet many such； Each like to each； this month have passed； And none did so supremely shine。 One thing they lacked： the perfect touch Of theeand thou art come at last； And half this loveliness is thine。
WELCOME HOME
The fire burns bright And the hearth is clean swept； As she likes it kept； And the lamp is alight。 She is coming to…night。
The wind's east of late。 When she comes； she'll be cold； So the big chair is rolled Close up to the grate； And I listen and wait。
The shutters are fast； And the red curtains hide Every hint of outside。 But hark； how the blast Whistled then as it passed！
Or was it the train？ How long shall I stand； With my watch in my hand； And listen in vain For the wheels in the lane？
Hark！ A rumble I hear （Will the wind not be still？）； And it comes down the hill； And it grows on the ear； And now it is near。
Quick； a fresh log to burn！ Run and open the door； Hold a lamp out before To light up the turn； And bring in the urn。
You are come； then； at last！ O my dear； is it you？ I can scarce think it true I am holding you fast； And sorrow is past。
AN INVITATION
Dear Ritchie； I am waiting for the signal word to fly； And tell me that the visit which has suffered such belating Is to be a thing of now； and no more of by…and…by。 Dear Ritchie； I am waiting。
The sea is at its bluest； and the Spring is new creating The woods and dens we know of； and the fields rejoicing lie； And the air is soft as summer； and the hedge…birds all are mating。
The Links are full of larks' nests； and the larks possess the sky； Like a choir of happy spirits； melodiously debating； All is ready for your coming； dear Ritchieyes； and I； Dear Ritchie； I am waiting。
FICKLE SUMMER
Fickle Summer's fled away； Shall we see her face again？ Hearken to the weeping rain； Never sunbeam greets the day。
More inconstant than the May； She cares nothing for our pain； Nor will hear the birds complain In their bowers that once were gay。
Summer； Summer； come once more； Drive the shadows from the field； All thy radiance round thee fling； Be our lady as of yore； Then the earth her fruits shall yield； Then the morning stars shall sing。
SORROW'S TREACHERY
I made a truce last night with Sorrow； The queen of tears； the foe of sleep； To keep her tents until the morrow； Nor send such dreams to make me weep。
Before the lusty day was springing； Before the tired moon was set； I dreamed I heard my dead love singing； And when I woke my eyes were wet。
THE CROWN OF YEARS
Years grow and gathereach a gem Lustrous with laughter and with tears； And cunning Time a crown of years Contrives for her who weareth them。
No chance can snatch this diadem； It trembles not with hopes or fears； It shines before the rose appears； And when the leaves forsake her stem。
Time sets his jewels one by one。 Then wherefore mourn the wreaths that lie In attic chambers of the past？ They withered ere the day was done。 This coronal will never die； Nor shall you lose it at the last。
HOPE DEFERRED
When the weary night is fled； And the morning sky is red； Then my heart doth rise and say； ‘Surely she will come to…day。'
In the golden blaze of noon； ‘Surely she is coming soon。' In
