Poems, with The Ballad of Reading Gaol. Оскар Уайльд

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ The pine-trees waved as waves a woman’s hair,

       And in the orchards every twining spray

       Was breaking into flakes of blossoming foam:

       But when I knew that far away at Rome

       In evil bonds a second Peter lay,

       I wept to see the land so very fair.

      Turin.

      SAN MINIATO

      See, I have climbed the mountain side

       Up to this holy house of God,

       Where once that Angel-Painter trod

       Who saw the heavens opened wide,

      And throned upon the crescent moon

       The Virginal white Queen of Grace—

       Mary! could I but see thy face

       Death could not come at all too soon.

      O crowned by God with thorns and pain!

       Mother of Christ! O mystic wife!

       My heart is weary of this life

       And over-sad to sing again.

      O crowned by God with love and flame!

       O crowned by Christ the Holy One!

       O listen ere the searching sun

       Show to the world my sin and shame.

      AVE MARIA GRATIA PLENA

      Was this His coming! I had hoped to see

       A scene of wondrous glory, as was told

       Of some great God who in a rain of gold

       Broke open bars and fell on Danae:

       Or a dread vision as when Semele

       Sickening for love and unappeased desire

       Prayed to see God’s clear body, and the fire

       Caught her brown limbs and slew her utterly:

       With such glad dreams I sought this holy place,

       And now with wondering eyes and heart I stand

       Before this supreme mystery of Love:

       Some kneeling girl with passionless pale face,

       An angel with a lily in his hand,

       And over both the white wings of a Dove.

      Florence.

      ITALIA

      Italia! thou art fallen, though with sheen

       Of battle-spears thy clamorous armies stride

       From the north Alps to the Sicilian tide!

       Ay! fallen, though the nations hail thee Queen

       Because rich gold in every town is seen,

       And on thy sapphire-lake in tossing pride

       Of wind-filled vans thy myriad galleys ride

       Beneath one flag of red and white and green.

       O Fair and Strong! O Strong and Fair in vain!

       Look southward where Rome’s desecrated town

       Lies mourning for her God-anointed King!

       Look heaven-ward! shall God allow this thing?

       Nay! but some flame-girt Raphael shall come down,

       And smite the Spoiler with the sword of pain.

      Venice.

      SONNET

      WRITTEN IN HOLY WEEK AT GENOA

      I wandered through Scoglietto’s far retreat,

       The oranges on each o’erhanging spray

       Burned as bright lamps of gold to shame the day;

       Some startled bird with fluttering wings and fleet

       Made snow of all the blossoms; at my feet

       Like silver moons the pale narcissi lay:

       And the curved waves that streaked the great green bay

       Laughed i’ the sun, and life seemed very sweet.

       Outside the young boy-priest passed singing clear,

       ‘Jesus the son of Mary has been slain,

       O come and fill His sepulchre with flowers.’

       Ah, God! Ah, God! those dear Hellenic hours

       Had drowned all memory of Thy bitter pain,

       The Cross, the Crown, the Soldiers and the Spear.

      ROME UNVISITED

      I.

      The corn has turned from grey to red,

       Since first my spirit wandered forth

       From the drear cities of the north,

       And to Italia’s mountains fled.

      And here I set my face towards home,

       For all my pilgrimage is done,

       Although, methinks, yon blood-red sun

       Marshals the way to Holy Rome.

      O Blessed Lady, who dost hold

       Upon the seven hills thy reign!

       O Mother without blot or stain,

       Crowned with bright crowns of triple gold!

      O Roma, Roma, at thy feet

       I lay this barren gift of song!

       For, ah! the way is steep and long

       That leads unto thy sacred street.

      II.

      And yet what joy it were for me

       To turn my feet unto the south,

СКАЧАТЬ