the home book of verse-4-第17部分
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Thou hast thine absent master's tear；
Dropped by the far Australian foam。
Thy memory lasts both here and there；
And thou shalt live as long as we。
And after that … thou dost not care！
In us was all the world to thee。
Yet； fondly zealous for thy fame；
Even to a date beyond our own；
We strive to carry down thy name
By mounded turf and graven stone。
We lay thee； close within our reach；
Here； where the grass is smooth and warm；
Between the holly and the beech；
Where oft we watched thy couchant form；
Asleep； yet lending half an ear
To travelers on the Portsmouth road； …
There choose we thee； O guardian dear；
Marked with a stone； thy last abode！
Then some； who through this garden pass；
When we too； like thyself； are clay；
Shall see thy grave upon the grass；
And stop before the stone； and say：
People who lived here long ago
Did by this stone； it seems； intend
To name for future times to know
The dachs…hound； Geist； their little friend。
Matthew Arnold ＇1822…1888＇
〃HOLD〃
I know； where Hampshire fronts the Wight；
A little church； where 〃after strife〃
Reposes Guy de Blanquely； Knight；
By Alison his wife：
I know their features' graven lines
In time…stained marble monotone；
While crouched before their feet reclines
Their little dog of stone！
I look where Blanquely Castle still
Frowns o'er the oak wood's summer state；
（The maker of a patent pill
Has purchased it of late）；
And then through Fancy's open door
I backward turn to days of old；
And see Sir Guy … a bachelor
Who owns a dog called 〃Hold〃！
I see him take the tourney's chance；
And urge his coal…black charger on
To an arbitrament by lance
For lovely Alison；
I mark the onset； see him hurl
From broidered saddle to the dirt
His rival； that ignoble Earl …
Black…hearted Massingbert！
Then Alison； with down…dropped eyes；
Where happy tears bedim the blue；
Bestows a valuable prize
And adds her hand thereto；
My lord； his surcoat streaked with sand；
Remounts； low muttering curses hot；
And with a base…born； hireling band
He plans a dastard plot！
。 。 。 。 。 。 。
'Tis night … Sir Guy has sunk to sleep；
The castle keep is hushed and still …
See； up the spiral stairway creep；
To work his wicked will；
Lord Massingbert of odious fame；
Soft followed by his cut…throat staff；
Ah； 〃Hold〃 has justified his name
And pinned his lordship's calf！
A growl； an oath； then torches flare；
Out rings a sentry's startled shout；
The guard are racing for the stair；
Half…dressed； Sir Guy runs out；
On high his glittering blade he waves；
He gives foul Massingbert the point；
He carves the hired assassin knaves
Joint from plebeian joint！
。 。 。 。 。 。 。
The Knight is dead … his sword is rust；
But in his day I'm certain 〃Hold〃
Wore； as his master's badge of trust；
A collarette of gold：
And still I like to fancy that；
Somewhere beyond the Styx's bound；
Sir Guy's tall phantom stoops to pat
His little phantom hound！
Patrick R。 Chalmers ＇18…
THE BARB OF SATIRE
THE VICAR OF BRAY
In good King Charles's golden days；
When loyalty no harm meant；
A zealous high…churchman was I；
And so I got preferment。
To teach my flock I never missed：
Kings were by God appointed；
And lost are those that dare resist
Or touch the Lord's anointed。
And this is law that I'll maintain
Until my dying day； sir；
That whatsoever king shall reign；
Still I'll be the Vicar of Bray； sir。
When royal James possessed the crown；
And popery grew in fashion；
The penal laws I hooted down；
And read the Declaration；
The Church of Rome I found would fit
Full well my constitution；
And I had been a Jesuit
But for the Revolution。
When William was our king declared；
To ease the nation's grievance；
With this new wind about I steered；
And swore to him allegiance；
Old principles I did revoke；
Set conscience at a distance；
Passive obedience was a joke；
A jest was non…resistance。
When royal Anne became our queen；
The Church of England's glory；
Another face of things was seen；
And I became a Tory；
Occasional conformists base；
I blamed their moderation；
And thought the Church in danger was；
By such prevarication。
When George in pudding…time came o'er；
And moderate men looked big； sir；
My principles I changed once more；
And so became a Whig； sir；
And thus preferment I procured
From our new Faith's defender；
And almost every day abjured
The Pope and the Pretender。
The illustrious house of Hanover；
And Protestant succession；
To these I do allegiance swear …
While they can keep possession：
For in my faith and loyalty
I nevermore will falter；
And George my lawful king shall be …
Until the times do alter。
And this is law that I'll maintain
Until my dying day； sir；
That whatsoever king shall reign；
Still I'll be the Vicar of Bray； sir。
Unknown
THE LOST LEADER
＇William Wordsworth＇
Just for a handful of silver he left us；
Just for a ribbon to stick in his coat …
Found the one gift of which fortune bereft us；
Lost all the others she lets us devote；
They； with the gold to give； doled him out silver；
So much was theirs who so little allowed：
How all our copper had gone for his service！
Rags … were they purple； his heart had been proud …
We that had loved him so； followed him； honored him；
Lived in his mild and magnificent eye；
Learned his great language； caught his clear accents；
Made him our pattern to live and to die！
Shakespeare was of us； Milton was for us；
Burns； Shelley； were with us； … they watch from their graves！
He alone breaks from the van and the freemen；
… He alone sinks to the rear and the slaves！
We shall march prospering； … not through his presence；
Songs may inspirit us； … not from his lyre；
Deeds will be done； … while he boasts his quiescence；
Still bidding crouch whom the rest bade aspire：
Blot out his name； then； record one lost soul more；
One task more declined； one more footpath untrod；
One more devil's…triumph and sorrow for angels；
One wrong more to man； one more insult to God！
Life's night begins： let him never come back to us！
There would be doubt； hesitation and pain；
Forced praise on our part … the glimmer of twilight；
Never glad confident morning again！
Best fight on well； for we taught him … strike gallantly；
Menace our heart ere we master his own；
Then let him receive the new knowledge and wait us；
Pardoned in heaven； the first by the throne！
Robert Browning ＇1812…1889＇
ICHABOD
＇Daniel Webster＇
So fallen！ so lost！ the light withdrawn
Which once he wore！
The glory from his gray hairs gone
Forevermore！
Revile him not； the Tempter hath
A snare for all；
And pitying tears； not scorn and wrath；
Befit his fall！
Oh； dumb be passion's stormy rage；
When he who might
Have lighted up and led his age；
Falls back in night。
Scorn！ would the angels laugh； to mark
A bright soul driven；
Fiend…goaded； down the endless dark；
From hope and heaven！
Let not the land once proud of him
Insult him now；
Nor brand with deeper shame his dim；
Dishonored brow。
But let its humbled sons； instead；
From sea to lake；
A long lament； as for the dead；
In sadness make。
Of all we loved and honored； naught
Save power remains；
A fallen angel's pride of thought；
Still strong in chains。
All else is gone； from those great eyes
The soul has fled：
When faith is lost； when honor dies；
The man is dead！
Then； pay the reverence of old days
To his dead fame；
Walk backward； with averted gaze；
And hide the shame！
John Greenleaf Whittier ＇1807…1892＇
WHAT MR。 ROBINSON THINKS
Guvener B。 is a sensible man；
He stays to his home an' looks arter his folks；
He draws his furrer ez straight ez he can；
An' into nobody's tater…patch pokes；
But John P。
Robinson he
Sez he wunt vote fer Guvener B。
My！ aint it terrible？ Wut shall we du？
We can't never choose him o' course； … thet's flat；
Guess we shall hev to come round； （don't you？）
An' go in fer thunder an' guns； an' all that；
Fer John P。
Robinson he
Sez he wunt vote fer Guvener B。
Gineral C。 is a dreffle smart man：
He's ben on all sides that give places or pelf；
But consistency still wuz a part of his plan； …
He's ben true to one party； … an' thet is himself； …
So John P。
Robinson he
Sez he shall vote fer Gineral C。
Gineral C。 he goes in fer the war；
He don't vally princerple more'n an old cud；
Wut did God make us raytional creeturs fer；
But glory an' gunpowder； plunder an' blood？
So John P。
Robinson he
Sez he shall vote fer Gineral C。
We were gittin' on nicely up here to our village；
With good old idees o' wut's right an' wut aint；
We kind o' thought Christ went agin war an' pillage；
An' thet eppyletts worn't the best mark of a saint；
But John P。
Robinson he
Sez this kind o' thing's an exploded idee。
The side of our country must ollers be took；
An' Presidunt Polk； you know； he is our country；
An' the angel thet writes all our sins in a book
Puts the debit to him； an' to us the per contry；
An' John P。
Robinson he
Sez this is his view o' the thing to a T。
Parson Wilbur he calls all these argimunts lies；
Sez they're nothin' on airth but jest fee； faw； fum；
An' thet all this big talk of our destinies
Is half on it ign'ance； an' t'other half rum；
But John P。
Robinson he
Sez it aint no sech thing； an'； of course； so must we。
Parson Wilbur sez he never heerd in his life
That th' Apostles rigged out in their swaller…tail coats；
An' marched round in front of a drum an' a fife；
To git some on 'em office； an' some on 'em votes；
But
