英语巴士网

To the Rose upon the Rood of Time

分类: 英语诗歌 
Red Rose, proud Rose, sad Rose of all my days!

    Come near me, while I sing the ancient ways:

    Cuchulain battling with the bitter tide;

    The Druid, grey, wood-nurtured, quiet-eyed,

    Who cast round Fergus dreams, and ruin untold;

    And thine own sadness, whereof stars, grown old

    In dancing silver-sandalled on the sea,

    Sing in their high and lonely melody.

    Come near, that no more blinded by man‘s fate,

    I find under the boughs of love and hate,

    In all poor foolish things that live a day,

    Eternal beauty wandering on her way.

    Come near, come near, come near—Ah, leave me still

    A little space for the rose-breath to fill!

    Lest I no more hear common things that crave;

    The weak worm hiding down in its small cave,

    The field-mouse running by me in the grass,

    And heavy mortal hopes that toil and pass;

    But seek alone to hear the strange things said

    By God to the bright hearts of those long dead,

    And learn to chaunt a tongue men do not know.

    Come near; I would, before my time to go,

    Sing of old Eire and the ancient ways:

    Red Rose, proud Rose, sad Rose of all my days.

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