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r. f. murray-his poems with a memoir-第13章

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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 list
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