"What books have we here for afternoon reading?" said Flemming, taking a volume from the parlour table, when they had returned from the dining-room. "O, it is Uhland's Poems. Have you read any thing of his? He and Tieck are the best living poets of Germany. They dispute the palm of superiority. Let me give you a lesson in German, this afternoon, Miss Ashburton; so that no one may accuse you of 'omitting the sweet benefit of time, to clothe your age with angel-like perfection.' I have opened at random5 upon the ballad6 of the Black Knight7. You repeat the German after me, and I will translate to you. Pfingsten war, das Fest der Freude!"
"I should never persuade my unwilling8 lips to pronounce such sounds. So I beg you not to perplex me with your German, but read me the ballad in English."
"'T was Pentecost, the Feast of Gladness,
When woods and fields put off all sadness.
Thus began the King and spake;
'So from the halls
Of ancient Hofburg's walls,
A luxuriant Spring shall break.'
From balcony the King looked on;
In the play of spears,
Fell all the cavaliers,
Before the monarch's stalwart son.
"To the barrier of the fight,
'Sir Knight! your name and scutcheon, say!'
'Should I speak it here,
Ye would stand aghast with fear;
"When he rode into the lists,
The arch of heaven grew black with mists,
And the castle 'gan to rock.
At the first blow,
Fell the youth from saddle-bow,
Hardly rises from the shock.
"Pipe and viol call the dances,
Torch-light through the high halls glances;
Waves a mighty shadow in.
Doth with her the dance begin.
"Danced in sable iron sark,
Coldly clasped her limbs around.
From breast and hair
Down fall from her the fair
'Twixt son and daughter all distraught,
With mournful mind
The ancient King reclined,
Gazed at them in silent thought.
"Pale the children both did look,
But the guest a beaker took;
'Golden wine will make you whole!"
The children drank,
"Each the father's breast embraces,
Son and daughter; and their faces
Whichever way
Looks the fear-struck father gray,
Takest thou in the joy of youth;
Take me, too, the joyless father!'
Spake the Grim Guest,
From his hollow, cavernous breast;
'Roses in the spring I gather!' "
"That is indeed a striking ballad!" said Miss Ashburton, "but rather too grim and ghostly for this dull afternoon."
"It begins joyously25 enough with the feast of Pentecost, and the crimson banners at the old castle. Then the contrast is well managed. The Knight in black mail, and the waving in of the mighty shadow in the dance, and the dropping of the faded flowers, are all strikingly presented to the imagination. However, it tellsits own story, and needs no explanation. Here is something in a different vein26, though still melancholy27. The Castle by the Sea. Shall I read it?"
"Yes, if you like."
Flemming read;
"Hast thou seen that lordly castle,
That Castle by the Sea?
Golden and red above it
The clouds float gorgeously.
"And fain it would stoop downward
To the mirrored wave below;
And fain it would soar upward
In the evening's crimson glow.
" 'Well have I seen that castle,
That Castle by the Sea,
And the mist rise solemnly.'
"The winds and the waves of ocean,
Had they a merry chime?
" 'The winds and the waves of ocean,
They rested quietly,
And tears came to my eye.'
The King and his royal bride?
And the golden crown of pride?
A beauteous maiden there?
Resplendent as the morning sun,
Beaming with golden hair?
" 'Well saw I the ancient parents,
Without the crown of pride;
They were moving slow, in weeds of woe,
No maiden was by their side!'
How do you like that?"
"It is very graceful37, and pretty. But Uhland seems to leave a great deal to his reader's imagination. All his readers should be poets themselves, or they will hardly comprehend him. I confess, Ihardly understand the passage where he speaks of the castle's stooping downward to the mirrored wave below, and then soaring upward into the gleaming sky. I suppose, however, he wishes to express the momentary38 illusion we experience at beholding39 a perfect reflection of an old tower in the sea, and look at it as if it were not a mere40 shadow in the water; and yet the real tower rises far above, and seems to float in the crimson evening clouds. Is that the meaning?"
"I should think it was. To me it is all a beautiful cloud landscape, which I comprehend and feel, and yet should find some difficulty perhaps in explaining."
"And why need one always explain? Some feelings are quite untranslatable. No language has yet been found for them. They gleam upon us beautifully through the dim twilight41 of fancy, and yet, when we bring them close to us, and hold them up to the light of reason, lose their beauty, all at once; just as glow-worms, which gleam with such a spiritual light in the shadows of evening, when brought in where the candlesare lighted, are found to be only worms, like so many others."
"Very true. We ought sometimes to be content with feeling. Here, now, is an exquisite42 piece, which soothes43 one like the fall of evening shadows,--like the dewy coolness of twilight after a sultry day. I shall not give you a bald translation of my own, because I have laid up in my memory another, which, though not very literal, equals the original in beauty. Observe how finely it commences.
"Many a year is in its grave,
Since I crossed this restless wave;
And the evening, fair as ever,
Shines on ruin, rock, and river.
"Then, in this same boat, beside,
Sat two comrades old and tried;
One with all a father's truth,
One with all the fire of youth.
And his grave in silence sought;
But the younger, brighter form
Passed in battle and in storm!
"So, whene'er I turn my eye
Back upon the days gone by,
Saddening thoughts of friends come o'er me,--
Friends, who closed their course before me.
But that soul with soul can blend?
Soul-like were those hours of yore;
Let us walk in soul once more!
"Take, O boatman, thrice thy fee;
Take,--I give it willingly;
For, invisibly to thee,
Spirits twain have crossed with me!"
"O, that is beautiful,--'beautiful exceedingly!' Who translated it?"
"I do not know. I wish I could find him out. It is certainly admirably done; though in the measure of the original there is something like the rocking motion of a boat, which is not preserved in the translation."
"Yes, he generally looks into the spirit-world. I am now trying to find here a little poem on the Death of a Country Clergyman; in which he introduces a beautiful picture. But I cannot turn to it. No matter. He describes the spirit of the good old man, returning to earth on a bright summer morning, and standing amid the golden corn and the red and blue flowers, and mildly greeting the reapers47 as of old. The idea is beautiful, is it not?"
"Yes, very beautiful!"
"But there is nothing morbid48 in Uhland's mind. He is always fresh and invigorating, like a breezy morning. In this he differs entirely49 from such writers as Salis and Matthisson."
"And who are they?"
"Two melancholy gentlemen to whom life was only a Dismal50 Swamp, upon whose margin51 they walked with cambric handkerchiefs in their hands, sobbing52 and sighing, and making signals to Death, to come and ferry them over the lake. And now their spirits stand in the green fields of German song, like two weeping-willows, bending over agrave. To read their poems, is like wandering through a village churchyard on a summer evening, reading the inscription53 upon the grave-stones, and recalling sweet images of the departed; while above you,
Where the stream of life runs free,
'Sister spirit! hail to thee!' "
"How musically those lines flow! Are they Matthisson's!"
"Yes; and they do indeed flow musically. I wish I had his poems here. I should like to read to you his Elegy56 on the Ruins of an Ancient Castle. It is an imitation of Gray's Elegy. You have been at Baden-Baden?
"Yes; last summer."
"And have not forgotten--"
"The old castle? Of course not. What a magnificent ruin it is!"
"That is the scene of Matthisson's Poem, andseems to have filled the melancholy bard57 with more than wonted inspiration."
"I should like very much to see the poem, I remember that old ruin with so much delight."
"I am sorry I have not a translation of it for you. Instead of it I will give you a sweet and mournful poem from Salis. It is called the Song of the Silent Land.
"Into the Silent Land!
Clouds in the evening sky more darkly gather,
Who leads us with a gentle hand,
Thither, oh, thither.
Into the Silent Land?
"Into the Silent Land!
Of all perfection! Tender morning-visions
Of beauteous souls! Eternity's own band!
Who in Life's battle firm doth stand,
Shall bear Hope's tender blossoms
Into the Silent Land!
"O Land! O Land!
For all the broken-hearted
To lead us with a gentle hand
Into the land of the great departed,
Into the Silent Land!
Is not that a beautiful poem?"
Mary Ashburton made no answer. She had turned away to hide her tears. Flemming wondered, that Berkley could say she was not beautiful. Still he was rather pleased than offended at it. He felt at that moment how sweet a thing it would be to possess one, who should seem beautiful to him alone, and yet to him be more beautiful than all the world beside! How bright the world became to him at that thought! It was like one of those paintings in which all the light streams from the face of the Virgin66. O, there is nothing holier in this life of ours, than the first consciousness of love,--the first fluttering of its silken wings; the first rising sound and breath of thatwind, which is so soon to sweep through the soul, to purify or to destroy!
Old histories tell us, that the great Emperor Charlemagne stamped his edicts with the hilt of his sword. The greater Emperor, Death, stamps his with the blade; and they are signed and executed with the same stroke. Flemming received that night a letter from Heidelberg, which told him, that Emma of Ilmenau was dead. The fate of this poor girl affected67 him deeply; and he said in his heart;
"Father in Heaven! Why was the lot of this weak and erring68 child so hard! What had she done, to be so tempted69 in her weakness, and perish? Why didst thou suffer her gentle affections to lead her thus astray?"
And, through the silence of the awful midnight, the voice of an avalanche70 answered from the distant mountains, and seemed to say;
"Peace! peace! Why dost thou question God's providence71!"
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1
dissection
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| n.分析；解剖 | |
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2
scrap
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| n.碎片；废料；v.废弃，报废 | |
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3
inviting
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| adj.诱人的，引人注目的 | |
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discourse
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| n.论文，演说；谈话；话语；vi.讲述，著述 | |
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random
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| adj.随机的；任意的；n.偶然的(或随便的)行动 | |
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ballad
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| n.歌谣，民谣，流行爱情歌曲 | |
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7
knight
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| n.骑士，武士；爵士 | |
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8
unwilling
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| adj.不情愿的 | |
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9
improvise
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| v.即兴创作；临时准备，临时凑成 | |
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10
trumpets
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| 喇叭( trumpet的名词复数 )； 小号； 喇叭形物； （尤指）绽开的水仙花 | |
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11
crimson
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| n./adj.深(绯)红色(的)；vi.脸变绯红色 | |
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12
sable
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| n.黑貂；adj.黑色的 | |
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13
mighty
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| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
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14
bland
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| adj.淡而无味的，温和的，无刺激性的 | |
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15
maiden
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| n.少女，处女；adj.未婚的，纯洁的，无经验的 | |
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16
weird
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| adj.古怪的，离奇的；怪诞的，神秘而可怕的 | |
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17
wilted
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| （使）凋谢，枯萎( wilt的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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18
sumptuous
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| adj.豪华的，奢侈的，华丽的 | |
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19
dame
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| n.女士 | |
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20
courteous
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| adj.彬彬有礼的，客气的 | |
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21
draught
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| n.拉，牵引，拖；一网（饮，吸，阵)；顿服药量，通风；v.起草，设计 | |
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22
utterly
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| adv.完全地，绝对地 | |
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23
beholds
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| v.看，注视( behold的第三人称单数 )；瞧；看呀；（叙述中用于引出某人意外的出现）哎哟 | |
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24
woe
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| n.悲哀，苦痛，不幸，困难；int.用来表达悲伤或惊慌 | |
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25
joyously
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| ad.快乐地, 高兴地 | |
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26
vein
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| n.血管，静脉；叶脉，纹理；情绪；vt.使成脉络 | |
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27
melancholy
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| n.忧郁，愁思；adj.令人感伤（沮丧）的，忧郁的 | |
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28
standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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29
chambers
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| n.房间( chamber的名词复数 )；（议会的）议院；卧室；会议厅 | |
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30
harp
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| n.竖琴；天琴座 | |
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31
gale
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| n.大风，强风，一阵闹声（尤指笑声等） | |
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32
wail
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| vt./vi.大声哀号，恸哭；呼啸，尖啸 | |
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33
turrets
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| （六角）转台( turret的名词复数 )； （战舰和坦克等上的）转动炮塔； （摄影机等上的）镜头转台； （旧时攻城用的）塔车 | |
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34
mantles
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| vt.&vi.覆盖（mantle的第三人称单数形式） | |
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35
forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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36
rapture
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| n.狂喜；全神贯注；着迷；v.使狂喜 | |
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37
graceful
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| adj.优美的，优雅的；得体的 | |
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38
momentary
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| adj.片刻的，瞬息的；短暂的 | |
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39
beholding
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| v.看，注视( behold的现在分词 )；瞧；看呀；（叙述中用于引出某人意外的出现）哎哟 | |
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40
mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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41
twilight
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| n.暮光，黄昏；暮年，晚期，衰落时期 | |
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42
exquisite
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| adj.精美的；敏锐的；剧烈的，感觉强烈的 | |
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43
soothes
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| v.安慰( soothe的第三人称单数 )；抚慰；使舒服；减轻痛苦 | |
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44
wrought
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| v.引起；以…原料制作；运转；adj.制造的 | |
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45
binds
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| v.约束( bind的第三人称单数 )；装订；捆绑；（用长布条）缠绕 | |
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46
soothing
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| adj.慰藉的；使人宽心的；镇静的 | |
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47
reapers
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| n.收割者，收获者( reaper的名词复数 )；收割机 | |
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48
morbid
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| adj.病的；致病的；病态的；可怕的 | |
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49
entirely
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| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
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50
dismal
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| adj.阴沉的，凄凉的，令人忧郁的，差劲的 | |
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51
margin
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| n.页边空白；差额；余地，余裕；边，边缘 | |
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52
sobbing
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| <主方>Ⅰ adj.湿透的 | |
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53
inscription
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| n.（尤指石块上的）刻印文字，铭文，碑文 | |
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54
grove
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| n.林子，小树林，园林 | |
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55
psalms
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| n.赞美诗( psalm的名词复数 )；圣诗；圣歌；(中的) | |
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56
elegy
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| n.哀歌，挽歌 | |
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57
bard
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| n.吟游诗人 | |
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58
thither
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| adv.向那里；adj.在那边的，对岸的 | |
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59
wrecks
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| n.沉船( wreck的名词复数 )；（事故中）遭严重毁坏的汽车（或飞机等）；（身体或精神上）受到严重损伤的人；状况非常糟糕的车辆（或建筑物等）v.毁坏[毁灭]某物( wreck的第三人称单数 )；使（船舶）失事，使遇难，使下沉 | |
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60
strand
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| vt.使（船）搁浅，使（某人）困于（某地） | |
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61
boundless
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| adj.无限的；无边无际的；巨大的 | |
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62
herald
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| vt.预示...的来临，预告，宣布，欢迎 | |
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63
allotted
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| 分配，拨给，摊派( allot的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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64
beckons
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| v.（用头或手的动作）示意，召唤( beckon的第三人称单数 ) | |
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65
inverted
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| adj.反向的，倒转的v.使倒置，使反转( invert的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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66
virgin
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| n.处女，未婚女子；adj.未经使用的；未经开发的 | |
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67
affected
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| adj.不自然的，假装的 | |
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68
erring
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| 做错事的，错误的 | |
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69
tempted
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| v.怂恿（某人）干不正当的事；冒…的险（tempt的过去分词） | |
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70
avalanche
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| n.雪崩，大量涌来 | |
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71
providence
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| n.深谋远虑，天道，天意；远见；节约；上帝 | |
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