My Springs

In the heart of the Hills of Life, I know [1]

Two springs that with unbroken flow

Forever pour their lucent streams

Into my soul's far Lake of Dreams.

Not larger than two eyes, they lie

Beneath the many-changing sky

And mirror all of life and time,

-- Serene and dainty pantomime.

Shot through with lights of stars and dawns,

And shadowed sweet by ferns and fawns,

-- Thus heaven and earth together vie [11]

Their shining depths to sanctify.

Always when the large Form of Love

Is hid by storms that rage above,

I gaze in my two springs and see

Love in his very verity.

Always when Faith with stifling stress

Of grief hath died in bitterness,

I gaze in my two springs and see

A Faith that smiles immortally.

Always when Charity and Hope, [21]

In darkness bounden, feebly grope,

I gaze in my two springs and see

A Light that sets my captives free.

Always, when Art on perverse wing

Flies where I cannot hear him sing,

I gaze in my two springs and see

A charm that brings him back to me.

When Labor faints, and Glory fails,

And coy Reward in sighs exhales,

I gaze in my two springs and see [31]

Attainment full and heavenly.

O Love, O Wife, thine eyes are they,

-- My springs from out whose shining gray

Issue the sweet celestial streams

That feed my life's bright Lake of Dreams.

Oval and large and passion-pure

And gray and wise and honor-sure;

Soft as a dying violet-breath

Yet calmly unafraid of death;

Thronged, like two dove-cotes of gray doves, [41]

With wife's and mother's and poor-folk's loves,

And home-loves and high glory-loves

And science-loves and story-loves,

And loves for all that God and man

In art and nature make or plan,

And lady-loves for spidery lace

And broideries and supple grace

And diamonds and the whole sweet round

Of littles that large life compound,

And loves for God and God's bare truth, [51]

And loves for Magdalen and Ruth,

Dear eyes, dear eyes and rare complete --

Being heavenly-sweet and earthly-sweet,

-- I marvel that God made you mine,

For when He frowns, 'tis then ye shine!

____

Baltimore, 1874.

Select Poems of Sidney Lanier · 第 28 / 88 题