The Complete Works. William Butler Yeats

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      Have seen immortal, mild, proud shadows walk;

      Dim Inchy wood, that hides badger and fox

      And marten-cat, and borders that old wood

      Wise Biddy Early called the wicked wood:

      Seven odours, seven murmurs, seven woods.

      I had not eyes like those enchanted eyes,

      Yet dreamed that beings happier than men

      Moved round me in the shadows, and at night

      My dreams were cloven by voices and by fires;

      And the images I have woven in this story

      Of Forgael and Dectora and the empty waters

      Moved round me in the voices and the fires,

      And more I may not write of, for they that cleave

      The waters of sleep can make a chattering tongue

      Heavy like stone, their wisdom being half silence.

      How shall I name you, immortal, mild, proud shadows?

      I only know that all we know comes from you,

      And that you come from Eden on flying feet.

      Is Eden far away, or do you hide

      From human thought, as hares and mice and coneys

      That run before the reaping-hook and lie

      In the last ridge of the barley? Do our woods

      And winds and ponds cover more quiet woods,

      More shining winds, more star-glimmering ponds?

      Is Eden out of time and out of space?

      And do you gather about us when pale light

      Shining on water and fallen among leaves,

      And winds blowing from flowers, and whirr of feathers

      And the green quiet, have uplifted the heart?

      I have made this poem for you, that men may read it

      Before they read of Forgael and Dectora,

      As men in the old times, before the harps began,

      Poured out wine for the high invisible ones.

      September, 1900.

THE HARP OF AENGUS

       Table of Contents

      Edain came out of Midher’s hill, and lay

      Beside young Aengus in his tower of glass,

      Where time is drowned in odour-laden winds

      And druid moons, and murmuring of boughs,

      And sleepy boughs, and boughs where apples made

      Of opal and ruby and pale chrysolite

      Awake unsleeping fires; and wove seven strings,

      Sweet with all music, out of his long hair,

      Because her hands had been made wild by love;

      When Midher’s wife had changed her to a fly,

      He made a harp with druid apple wood

      That she among her winds might know he wept;

      And from that hour he has watched over none

       But faithful lovers.

PERSONS IN THE PLAY

       Table of Contents

       FORGAEL

       AIBRIC

       SAILORS

       DECTORA

      The deck of an ancient ship. At the right of the stage is the mast, with a large square sail hiding a great deal of the sky and sea on that side. The tiller is at the left of the stage; it is a long oar coming through an opening in the bulwark. The deck rises in a series of steps behind the tiller, and the stern of the ship curves overhead. All the woodwork is of dark green; and the sail is dark green, with a blue pattern upon it, having a little copper colour here and there. The sky and sea are dark blue. All the persons of the play are dressed in various tints of green and blue, the men with helmets and swords of copper, the woman with copper ornaments upon her dress. When the play opens there are four persons upon the deck. AIBRIC stands by the tiller. FORGAEL sleeps upon the raised portion of the deck towards the front of the stage. Two SAILORS are standing near to the mast, on which a harp is hanging.

      FIRST SAILOR.

      Has he not led us into these waste seas

      For long enough?

      SECOND SAILOR.

      Aye, long and long enough.

      FIRST SAILOR.

      We have not come upon a shore or ship

      These dozen weeks.

      SECOND SAILOR.

      And I had thought to make

      A good round sum upon this cruise, and turn—

      For I am getting on in life—to something

      That has less ups and downs than robbery.

      FIRST SAILOR.

      I am so lecherous with abstinence

      I’d give the profit of nine voyages

      For that red Moll that had but the one eye.

      SECOND SAILOR.

      And all the ale ran out at the new moon;

      And now that time puts water in my blood,

      The ale cup is my father and my mother.

      FIRST SAILOR.

      It would СКАЧАТЬ