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Rampolli
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Onward must alone content thee—
Weary, thou must not stand still
Wouldst thou thy perfection fill!
Thou must spread thee wider, bigger,
Wouldst thou have the world take figure!
To the deep the man descendeth
Who existence comprehendeth.
Leads persistence to the goal;
Leads abundance to precision;
Dwells in the abyss the Vision.
In the following epigrams I have altered the form,
which in the original is the elegiac distich
KNOWLEDGE
To this man, ‘tis a goddess tall,
Who lifts a star-encircled head;
To that, a fine cow in a stall,
Which gives him butter to his bread.
MY FAITH
Which religion I profess?
None of which you mention make.
Wherefore so?—And can’t you guess?
For Religion’s sake.
FRIEND AND FOE
Dear is my friend, but my foe too
Is friendly to my good;
My friend the thing shows I can do,
My foe, the thing I should.
EXPECTATION AND FULFILMENT
Thousand-masted, mighty float,
Out to sea Youth’s navy goes:
Silent, in his one saved boat,
Age into the harbour rows.
THE DIVER
“Which of you, knight or squire, will dare
Plunge into yonder gulf?
A golden beaker I fling in it—there!
The black mouth swallows it like a wolf!
Who brings me the cup again, whoever,
It is his own—he may keep it for ever!”
Tis the king who speaks; and he flings from the brow
Of the cliff, that, rugged and steep,
Hangs out o’er the endless sea below,
The cup in the whirlpool’s howling heap:—
“Again I ask, what hero will follow?
What brave heart plunge into yon dark hollow?”
The knights and the squires, the king about,
Hear him, and dumbly stare
Into the wild sea’s tumbling rout;
But to win the beaker, they hardly care!
The king, for the third time, round him glaring—
“Not a soul of you has the daring?”
Speechless all, as before, they stand:
When a vassal bold, gentle, and gay,
Steps out from his comrades’ shrinking band,
Flinging his girdle and cloak away;
And all the women and men that surrounded
Gazed on the grand-looking youth, astounded.
And when he stepped to the rock’s rough brow
Looking down on the gulf so black,
The waters which it had swallowed, now
Charybdis bellowing rendered back;
And, with a roar as of distant thunder,
Foaming they burst from the dark lap under.
It wallows, seethes, hisses, in raging rout,
As when water wrestles with fire,
Till to heaven the yeasty tongues they spout;
And flood upon flood keeps mounting higher:
It will never its endless coil unravel,
As the sea with another sea were in travail!
But, at last, slow sinks the writhing spasm,
And, black through the foaming white,
Downward gapes a yawning chasm—
Bottomless, cloven to hell’s wide night;
And, sucked up, see the billows roaring
Down through the whirling funnel pouring!
Then in haste, ere the out-rage return again,
The youth to his God doth pray,
And—ascends a cry of horror and pain—
Already the vortex hath swept him away!
And o’er the bold swimmer, in darkness eternal,
Close the great jaws of the gulf infernal!
Weary, thou must not stand still
Wouldst thou thy perfection fill!
Thou must spread thee wider, bigger,
Wouldst thou have the world take figure!
To the deep the man descendeth
Who existence comprehendeth.
Leads persistence to the goal;
Leads abundance to precision;
Dwells in the abyss the Vision.
In the following epigrams I have altered the form,
which in the original is the elegiac distich
KNOWLEDGE
To this man, ‘tis a goddess tall,
Who lifts a star-encircled head;
To that, a fine cow in a stall,
Which gives him butter to his bread.
MY FAITH
Which religion I profess?
None of which you mention make.
Wherefore so?—And can’t you guess?
For Religion’s sake.
FRIEND AND FOE
Dear is my friend, but my foe too
Is friendly to my good;
My friend the thing shows I can do,
My foe, the thing I should.
EXPECTATION AND FULFILMENT
Thousand-masted, mighty float,
Out to sea Youth’s navy goes:
Silent, in his one saved boat,
Age into the harbour rows.
THE DIVER
“Which of you, knight or squire, will dare
Plunge into yonder gulf?
A golden beaker I fling in it—there!
The black mouth swallows it like a wolf!
Who brings me the cup again, whoever,
It is his own—he may keep it for ever!”
Tis the king who speaks; and he flings from the brow
Of the cliff, that, rugged and steep,
Hangs out o’er the endless sea below,
The cup in the whirlpool’s howling heap:—
“Again I ask, what hero will follow?
What brave heart plunge into yon dark hollow?”
The knights and the squires, the king about,
Hear him, and dumbly stare
Into the wild sea’s tumbling rout;
But to win the beaker, they hardly care!
The king, for the third time, round him glaring—
“Not a soul of you has the daring?”
Speechless all, as before, they stand:
When a vassal bold, gentle, and gay,
Steps out from his comrades’ shrinking band,
Flinging his girdle and cloak away;
And all the women and men that surrounded
Gazed on the grand-looking youth, astounded.
And when he stepped to the rock’s rough brow
Looking down on the gulf so black,
The waters which it had swallowed, now
Charybdis bellowing rendered back;
And, with a roar as of distant thunder,
Foaming they burst from the dark lap under.
It wallows, seethes, hisses, in raging rout,
As when water wrestles with fire,
Till to heaven the yeasty tongues they spout;
And flood upon flood keeps mounting higher:
It will never its endless coil unravel,
As the sea with another sea were in travail!
But, at last, slow sinks the writhing spasm,
And, black through the foaming white,
Downward gapes a yawning chasm—
Bottomless, cloven to hell’s wide night;
And, sucked up, see the billows roaring
Down through the whirling funnel pouring!
Then in haste, ere the out-rage return again,
The youth to his God doth pray,
And—ascends a cry of horror and pain—
Already the vortex hath swept him away!
And o’er the bold swimmer, in darkness eternal,
Close the great jaws of the gulf infernal!
Другие электронные книги автора George MacDonald
Последний отзыв
очень хорошая книга для студентов и учителей