您现在的位置: 外语爱好者网站 >> 英语 >> 大学英语 >> 正文

                                爱伦坡AL AARAAF

                                作者:爱伦坡    文章来源:本站原创    更新时间:2016-10-6

                                爱伦坡AL AARAAF 阿尔 阿拉夫
                                PART I.

                                          O!  Nothing earthly save the ray
                                          (Thrown back from flowers) of Beauty's eye,AL AARAAF 
                                          As in those gardens where the day
                                          Springs from the gems of Circassy—
                                          O! nothing earthly save the thrill
                                          Of melody in woodland rill—
                                          Or (music of the passion-hearted)
                                          Joy's voice so peacefully departed
                                          That like the murmur in the shell,
                                          Its echo dwelleth and will dwell—
                                          Oh, nothing of the dross of ours—
                                          Yet all the beauty—all the flowers
                                          That list our Love, and deck our bowers—
                                          Adorn yon world afar, afar—
                                          The wandering star.

                                             'Twas a sweet time for Nesace—for there
                                          Her world lay lolling on the golden air,
                                          Near four bright suns—a temporary rest—
                                          An oasis in desert of the blest.


                                     * A star was discovered by Tycho Brahe which appeared
                                     suddenly in the heavens—attained, in a few days, a
                                     brilliancy surpassing that of Jupiter—then as suddenly
                                     disappeared, and has never been seen since.

                                          Away—away—'mid seas of rays that roll
                                          Empyrean splendor o'er th' unchained soul—
                                          The soul that scarce (the billows are so dense)
                                          Can struggle to its destin'd eminence—
                                          To distant spheres, from time to time, she rode,
                                          And late to ours, the favour'd one of God—
                                          But, now, the ruler of an anchor'd realm,
                                          She throws aside the sceptre—leaves the helm,
                                          And, amid incense and high spiritual hymns,
                                          Laves in quadruple light her angel limbs.

                                              Now happiest, loveliest in yon lovely Earth,
                                          Whence sprang the "Idea of Beauty" into birth,
                                          (Falling in wreaths thro' many a startled star,
                                          Like woman's hair 'mid pearls, until, afar,
                                          It lit on hills Achaian, and there dwelt)
                                          She look'd into Infinity—and knelt.
                                          Rich clouds, for canopies, about her curled—
                                          Fit emblems of the model of her world—
                                          Seen but in beauty—not impeding sight
                                          Of other beauty glittering thro' the light—
                                          A wreath that twined each starry form around,
                                          And all the opal'd air in color bound.

                                              All hurriedly she knelt upon a bed
                                          Of flowers:  of lilies such as rear'd the head
                                          *On the fair Capo Deucato, and sprang
                                          So eagerly around about to hang
                                          Upon the flying footsteps of—deep pride—
                                          **Of her who lov'd a mortal—and so died.
                                          The Sephalica, budding with young bees,
                                          Uprear'd its purple stem around her knees:


                                          * On Santa Maura—olim Deucadia.

                                          **And gemmy flower, of Trebizond misnam'd—
                                          Inmate of highest stars, where erst it sham'd
                                          All other loveliness: its honied dew
                                          (The fabled nectar that the heathen knew)
                                          Deliriously sweet, was dropp'd from Heaven,
                                          And fell on gardens of the unforgiven
                                          In Trebizond—and on a sunny flower
                                          So like its own above that, to this hour,
                                          It still remaineth, torturing the bee
                                          With madness, and unwonted reverie:
                                          In Heaven, and all its environs, the leaf
                                          And blossom of the fairy plant, in grief
                                          Disconsolate linger—grief that hangs her head,
                                          Repenting follies that full long have fled,
                                          Heaving her white breast to the balmy air,
                                          Like guilty beauty, chasten'd, and more fair:
                                          Nyctanthes too, as sacred as the light
                                          She fears to perfume, perfuming the night:
                                          **And Clytia pondering between many a sun,
                                          While pettish tears adown her petals run:
                                          ***And that aspiring flower that sprang on Earth—
                                          And died, ere scarce exalted into birth,
                                          Bursting its odorous heart in spirit to wing
                                          Its way to Heaven, from garden of a king:


                                     * This flower is much noticed by Lewenhoeck and Tournefort.
                                     The bee, feeding upon its blossom, becomes intoxicated.

                                     ** Clytia—The Chrysanthemum Peruvianum, or, to employ a
                                     better-known term, the turnsol—which continually turns
                                     towards the sun, covers itself, like Peru, the country from
                                     which it comes, with dewy clouds which cool and refresh its
                                     flowers during the most violent heat of the day.—B. de St.
                                     Pierre.

                                     *** There is cultivated in the king's garden at Paris, a
                                     species of serpentine aloes without prickles, whose large
                                     and beautiful flower exhales a strong odour of the vanilla,
                                     during the time of its expansion, which is very short. It
                                     does not blow till towards the month of July—you then
                                     perceive it gradually open its petals—expand them—fade
                                     and die.—St. Pierre.

                                     *And Valisnerian lotus thither flown
                                     From struggling with the waters of the Rhone:
                                     **And thy most lovely purple perfume, Zante!
                                     Isola d'oro!—Fior di Levante!
                                     ***And the Nelumbo bud that floats for ever
                                     With Indian Cupid down the holy river—
                                     Fair flowers, and fairy! to whose care is given
                                     ****To bear the Goddess' song, in odors, up to Heaven:

                                        "Spirit! that dwellest where,
                                              In the deep sky,
                                          The terrible and fair,
                                              In beauty vie!
                                          Beyond the line of blue—
                                              The boundary of the star
                                          Which turneth at the view
                                              Of thy barrier and thy bar—
                                          Of the barrier overgone
                                             By the comets who were cast
                                          From their pride, and from their throne
                                             To be drudges till the last—
                                          To be carriers of fire
                                             (The red fire of their heart)
                                          With speed that may not tire
                                             And with pain that shall not part—


                                     * There is found, in the Rhone, a beautiful lily of the
                                     Valisnerian kind. Its stem will stretch to the length of
                                     three or four feet—thus preserving its head above water
                                     in the swellings of the river.

                                     ** The Hyacinth.

                                     *** It is a fiction of the Indians, that Cupid was first
                                     seen floating in one of these down the river Ganges—and
                                     that he still loves the cradle of his childhood.

                                    **** And golden vials full of odors which are the prayers of the saints.
                                   —Rev. St. John.

                                          Who livest—that we know—
                                              In Eternity—we feel—
                                          But the shadow of whose brow
                                              What spirit shall reveal?
                                          Tho' the beings whom thy Nesace,
                                              Thy messenger hath known
                                          Have dream'd for thy Infinity
                                              *A model of their own—
                                          Thy will is done, Oh, God!
                                              The star hath ridden high
                                          Thro' many a tempest, but she rode
                                              Beneath thy burning eye;
                                          And here, in thought, to thee—
                                              In thought that can alone
                                          Ascend thy empire and so be
                                              A partner of thy throne—


                                     * The Humanitarians held that God was to be understood as
                                     having a really human form.—Vide Clarke's Sermons, vol.
                                     1, page 26, fol. edit.

                                     The drift of Milton's argument, leads him to employ language
                                     which would appear, at first sight, to verge upon their
                                     doctrine;  but it will be seen immediately, that he guards
                                     himself against the charge of having adopted one of the most
                                     ignorant errors of the dark ages of the church.—Dr.
                                     Sumner's Notes on Milton's Christian Doctrine.

                                     This opinion, in spite of many testimonies to the contrary,
                                     could never have been very general. Andeus, a Syrian of
                                     Mesopotamia, was condemned for the opinion, as heretical. He
                                     lived in the beginning of the fourth century. His disciples
                                     were called Anthropmorphites.—Vide Du Pin.

                                     Among Milton's poems are these lines:—
                                                Dicite sacrorum præsides nemorum Deæ, &c.
                                                Quis ille primus cujus ex imagine
                                                Natura solers finxit humanum genus?
                                                Eternus, incorruptus, æquævus polo,
                                                Unusque et universus exemplar Dei.—And afterwards,
                                                Non cui profundum Cæcitas lumen dedit
                                                Dircæus augur vidit hunc alto sinu, &c.

                                          *By winged Fantasy,
                                              My embassy is given,
                                          Till secrecy shall knowledge be
                                              In the environs of Heaven."


                                          She ceas'd—and buried then her burning cheek
                                          Abash'd, amid the lilies there, to seek
                                          A shelter from the fervour of His eye;
                                          For the stars trembled at the Deity.
                                          She stirr'd not—breath'd not—for a voice was there
                                          How solemnly pervading the calm air!
                                          A sound of silence on the startled ear
                                          Which dreamy poets name "the music of the sphere."
                                          Ours is a world of words:  Quiet we call
                                          "Silence"—which is the merest word of all.
                                          All Nature speaks, and ev'n ideal things
                                          Flap shadowy sounds from visionary wings—
                                          But ah! not so when, thus, in realms on high
                                          The eternal voice of God is passing by,
                                          And the red winds are withering in the sky!

                                          **"What tho' in worlds which sightless cycles run,
                                          Link'd to a little system, and one sun—
                                          Where all my love is folly and the crowd
                                          Still think my terrors but the thunder cloud,
                                          The storm, the earthquake, and the ocean-wrath—
                                          (Ah! will they cross me in my angrier path?)
                                          What tho' in worlds which own a single sun
                                          The sands of Time grow dimmer as they run,

                                     * Seltsamen Tochter Jovis
                                       Seinem Schosskinde
                                       Der Phantasie.—Göethe.

                                    ** Sightless—too small to be seen—Legge.

                                          Yet thine is my resplendency, so given
                                          To bear my secrets thro' the upper Heaven.
                                          Leave tenantless thy crystal home, and fly,
                                          With all thy train, athwart the moony sky—
                                          *Apart—like fire-flies in Sicilian night,
                                          And wing to other worlds another light!
                                          Divulge the secrets of thy embassy
                                          To the proud orbs that twinkle—and so be
                                          To ev'ry heart a barrier and a ban
                                          Lest the stars totter in the guilt of man!"

                                              Up rose the maiden in the yellow night,
                                          The single-mooned eve!—on Earth we plight
                                          Our faith to one love—and one moon adore—
                                          The birth-place of young Beauty had no more.
                                          As sprang that yellow star from downy hours
                                          Up rose the maiden from her shrine of flowers,
                                          And bent o'er sheeny mountain and dim plain
                                          **Her way—but left not yet her Therasæan reign.

                                     * I have often noticed a peculiar movement of the fire-flies;
                                    —they will collect in a body and fly off, from a common
                                     centre, into innumerable radii.

                                     ** Therasæa, or Therasea, the island mentioned by Seneca,
                                     which, in a moment, arose from the sea to the eyes of
                                     astonished mariners.
                                 

                                 

                                [1] [2] 下一页

                                edgar allan poe alone poem
                                爱伦坡ANNABEL LEE
                                爱伦坡THE ASSIGNATION
                                爱伦坡THE BALLOON-HOAX
                                爱伦坡THE BELLS

                                爱伦坡AL AARAAF
                              1. 下一篇文章:

                              2. 山东群英会客户端下载_北京快3客户端下载-河北快3怎么样 古力娜扎取关张翰| 台风丹娜丝生成| 快乐大本营| 打老师案被告上诉| 轮回乐园| 大族激光| 周星驰否认已婚| 浙江大学| 继承者们| 布偶猫|