Zamek w Locksley. Locksley Hall - ebook

Zamek w Locksley

Bracia, chwilkę mnie zostawcie,

ledwie świt śród niebios smug!

Pozostawcie, a gdy trzeba,

niech zawoła mnie wasz róg.

Tu to miejsce, tu jak dawniej

głos bekasów leci w dal,

Z bagnisk mgły się ciężkie wznoszą,

płynąc ponad Locksley-Hall.

Locksley-Hall, co szczyty swoje

nad piasczysty wznosi ścieg —

Ponad fale oceanu,

co się z hukiem rwą o brzeg.

Noc niejedną z okna tego,

nim spoczynku nadszedł czas,

Spoglądałem tam! na Zachód,

gdzie Orion zwolna gasł.

Noc niejedną na Plejadach

wypoczywał wzrok ten mój,

Lśniących we mgle, jak robaczków

w srebrnej sieci złoty rój.

Nad brzegami jam tu chodził,

karmiąc górną młodość mą

Czarodziejską wiedzy baśnią,

tem, co dawne dni nam ślą.

Kiedy za mną szereg wieków

niby plenny leżał łan;

Gdym się wdzierał w teraźniejszość,

której siew przyszłości dan;

Kiedym wnikał w dni, co idą,Locksley Hall

Comrades, leave me here a little, while as yet ’tis early morn:

Leave me here, and when you want me, sound upon the bugle horn.

’Tis the place, and all around it, as of old, the curlews call,

Dreary gleams about the moorland flying over Locksley Hall;

Locksley Hall, that in the distance overlooks the sandy tracts,

And the hollow ocean-ridges roaring into cataracts.

Many a night from yonder ivied casement, ere I went to rest,

Did I look on great Orion sloping slowly to the West.

Many a night I saw the Pleiads, rising thro’ the mellow shade,

Glitter like a swarm of fire-flies tangled in a silver braid.

Here about the beach I wander’d, nourishing a youth sublime

With the fairy tales of science, and the long result of Time;

When the centuries behind me like a fruitful land reposed;

When I clung to all the present for the promise that it closed:

When I dipt into the future far as human eye could see;

Saw the Vision of the world, and all the wonder that would be.—

In the Spring a fuller crimson comes upon the robin’s breast;

In the Spring the wanton lapwing gets himself another crest;

In the Spring a livelier iris changes on the burnish’d dove;

In the Spring a young man’s fancy lightly turns to thoughts of love.

Then her cheek was pale and thinner than should be for one so young,

And her eyes on all my motions with a mute observance hung.

And I said, ‘My cousin Amy, speak, and speak the truth to me,

Trust me, cousin, all the current of my being sets to thee.’

On her pallid cheek and forehead came a colour and a light,

As I have seen the rosy red flushing in the northern night.

And she turn’d—her bosom shaken with a sudden storm of sighs—

All the spirit deeply dawning in the dark of hazel eyes—

Saying, ‘I have hid my feelings, fearing they should do me wrong’;

Saying, ‘Dost thou love me, cousin?’ weeping, ‘I have loved thee long’.

Love took up the glass of Time, and turn’d it in his glowing hands;

Every moment, lightly shaken, ran itself in golden sands.

Love took up the harp of Life, and smote on all the chords with might;

Smote the chord of Self, that, trembling, pass’d in music out of sight.

Many a morning on the moorland did we hear the copses ring,

And her whisper throng’d my pulses with the fulness of the Spring.

Many an evening by the waters did we watch the stately ships,

And our spirits rush’d together at the touching of the lips.

O my cousin, shallow-hearted! O my Amy, mine no more!

O the dreary, dreary moorland! O the barren, barren shore!