Spell-Bound
How weary is it none can tell,
I hear the tinkling2 of the bell,
I see the cross against the sky.
The year wears round to Autumn-tide,
Yet comes no reaper3 to the corn;
The golden land is like a bride
When first she knows herself forlorn;
She sits and weeps with all her hair
Laid downward over tender hands;
For stainèd silk she hath no care,
No care for broken ivory wands;
The silver cups beside her stand;
The golden stars on the blue roof
Yet glitter, though against her hand
His cold sword presses for a proof
He is not dead, but gone away.
How many hours did she wait
For me, I wonder? Till the day
Had faded wholly, and the gate
Clanged to behind returning knights5?
I wonder did she raise her head
And go away, fleeing the lights;
And lay the samite on her bed,
The wedding samite strewn with pearls:
Then sit with hands laid on her knees,
Shuddering7 at half-heard sound of girls
That chatter8 outside in the breeze?
I wonder did her poor heart throb9
At distant tramp of coming knight6?
How often did the choking sob10
Raise up her head and lips? The light,
Did it come on her unawares,
And drag her sternly down before
People who loved her not? in prayers
Did she say one name and no more?
And once, all songs they ever sung,
All tales they ever told to me,
This only burden through them rung:
O golden love that waitest me!
The days pass on, pass on apace,
Sometimes I have a little rest
In fairest dreams, when on thy face
My lips lie, or thy hands are prest
About my forehead, and thy lips
Draw near and nearer to mine own;
But when the vision from me slips,
In colourless dawn I lie and moan,
And wander forth11 with fever’d blood,
That makes me start at little things,
The blackbird screaming from the wood,
The sudden whirr of pheasants’ wings.
O dearest, scarcely seen by me!
But when that wild time had gone by,
And in these arms I folded thee,
Who ever thought those days could die?
Yet now I wait, and you wait too,
For what perchance may never come;
You think I have forgotten you,
That I grew tired and went home.
But what if some day as I stood
Against the wall with strainèd hands,
And turn’d my face toward the wood,
Away from all the golden lands;
And saw you come with tired feet,
And pale face thin and wan4 with care,
And stainèd raiment no more neat,
The white dust lying on your hair:
Then I should say, I could not come;
This land was my wide prison, dear;
I could not choose but go; at home
There is a wizard whom I fear:
He bound me round with silken chains
I could not break; he set me here
Above the golden-waving plains,
Where never reaper cometh near.
And you have brought me my good sword,
Wherewith in happy days of old
I won you well from knight and lord;
My heart upswells and I grow bold.
But I shall die unless you stand,
Half lying now, you are so weak,
Within my arms, unless your hand
Pass to and fro across my cheek.
1 dismally | |
adv.阴暗地,沉闷地 | |
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2 tinkling | |
n.丁当作响声 | |
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3 reaper | |
n.收割者,收割机 | |
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4 wan | |
(wide area network)广域网 | |
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5 knights | |
骑士; (中古时代的)武士( knight的名词复数 ); 骑士; 爵士; (国际象棋中)马 | |
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6 knight | |
n.骑士,武士;爵士 | |
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7 shuddering | |
v.战栗( shudder的现在分词 );发抖;(机器、车辆等)突然震动;颤动 | |
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8 chatter | |
vi./n.喋喋不休;短促尖叫;(牙齿)打战 | |
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9 throb | |
v.震颤,颤动;(急速强烈地)跳动,搏动 | |
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10 sob | |
n.空间轨道的轰炸机;呜咽,哭泣 | |
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11 forth | |
adv.向前;向外,往外 | |
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