Ballads in Blue China and Verses and Translations [7]
crave from the fire on his stithy a ray; Philosophers kneel to the God without name, Like the people of Athens, agnostics are they; The hunter a fawn to Diana will slay, The maiden wild roses will wreathe for the Hours; But the wise man will ask, ere libation he pay, For a house full of books, and a garden of flowers.
Oh! grant me a life without pleasure or blame (As mortals count pleasure who rush through their day With a speed to which that of the tempest is tame)! O grant me a house by the beach of a bay, Where the waves can be surly in winter, and play With the sea-weed in summer, ye bountiful powers! And I'd leave all the hurry, the noise, and the fray, For a house full of books, and a garden of flowers.
ENVOY.
Gods, grant or withhold it; your "yea" and your "nay" Are immutable, heedless of outcry of ours: But life IS worth living, and here we would stay For a house full of books, and a garden of flowers.
BALLADE OF WORLDLY WEALTH. (OLD FRENCH.)
Money taketh town and wall, Fort and ramp without a blow; Money moves the merchants all, While the tides shall ebb and flow; Money maketh Evil show Like the Good, and Truth like lies: These alone can ne'er bestow Youth, and health, and Paradise.
Money maketh festival, Wine she buys, and beds can strow; Round the necks of captains tall, Money wins them chains to throw, Marches soldiers to and fro, Gaineth ladies with sweet eyes: These alone can ne'er bestow Youth, and health, and Paradise.
Money wins the priest his stall; Money mitres buys, I trow, Red hats for the Cardinal, Abbeys for the novice low; Money maketh sin as snow, Place of penitence supplies: These alone can ne'er bestow Youth, and health, and Paradise.
BALLADE OF LIFE. "'Dead and gone,'--a sorry burden of the Ballad of Life." Death's Jest Book.
Say, fair maids, maying In gardens green, In deep dells straying, What end hath been Two Mays between Of the flowers that shone And your own sweet queen - "They are dead and gone!"
Say, grave priests, praying In dule and teen, From cells decaying What have ye seen Of the proud and mean, Of Judas and John, Of the foul and clean? - "They are dead and gone!"
Say, kings, arraying Loud wars to win, Of your manslaying What gain ye glean? "They are fierce and keen, But they fall anon, On the sword that lean, - They are dead and gone!"
ENVOY.
Through the mad world's scene, We are drifting on, To this tune, I ween, "They are dead and gone!"
BALLADE OF BLUE CHINA.
There's a joy without canker or cark, There's a pleasure eternally new, 'Tis to gloat on the glaze and the mark Of china that's ancient and blue; Unchipp'd all the centuries through It has pass'd, since the chime of it rang, And they fashion'd it, figure and hue, In the reign of the Emperor Hwang.
These dragons (their tails, you remark, Into bunches of gillyflowers grew), - When Noah came out of the ark, Did these lie in wait for his crew? They snorted, they snapp'd, and they slew, They were mighty of fin and of fang, And their portraits Celestials drew In the reign of the Emperor Hwang.
Here's a pot with a cot in a park, In a park where the peach-blossoms blew, Where the lovers eloped in the dark, Lived, died, and were changed into two Bright birds that eternally flew Through the boughs of the may, as they sang: 'Tis a tale was undoubtedly true In the reign of the Emperor Hwang.
ENVOY.
Come, snarl at my ecstasies, do, Kind critic, your "tongue has a tang" But--a sage never heeded a shrew In the reign of the Emperor Hwang.
BALLADE OF DEAD LADIES. (AFTER VILLON.)
Nay, tell me now in what strange air The Roman Flora dwells to-day. Where Archippiada hides, and where Beautiful Thais has passed away? Whence answers Echo, afield, astray, By mere or stream,--around, below? Lovelier she than a woman of clay; Nay, but where is the last year's snow?
Where is wise Heloise, that care Brought on Abeilard, and dismay? All for her love he found a snare, A maimed poor monk in orders grey; And where's the Queen who willed to slay Buridan, that
Oh! grant me a life without pleasure or blame (As mortals count pleasure who rush through their day With a speed to which that of the tempest is tame)! O grant me a house by the beach of a bay, Where the waves can be surly in winter, and play With the sea-weed in summer, ye bountiful powers! And I'd leave all the hurry, the noise, and the fray, For a house full of books, and a garden of flowers.
ENVOY.
Gods, grant or withhold it; your "yea" and your "nay" Are immutable, heedless of outcry of ours: But life IS worth living, and here we would stay For a house full of books, and a garden of flowers.
BALLADE OF WORLDLY WEALTH. (OLD FRENCH.)
Money taketh town and wall, Fort and ramp without a blow; Money moves the merchants all, While the tides shall ebb and flow; Money maketh Evil show Like the Good, and Truth like lies: These alone can ne'er bestow Youth, and health, and Paradise.
Money maketh festival, Wine she buys, and beds can strow; Round the necks of captains tall, Money wins them chains to throw, Marches soldiers to and fro, Gaineth ladies with sweet eyes: These alone can ne'er bestow Youth, and health, and Paradise.
Money wins the priest his stall; Money mitres buys, I trow, Red hats for the Cardinal, Abbeys for the novice low; Money maketh sin as snow, Place of penitence supplies: These alone can ne'er bestow Youth, and health, and Paradise.
BALLADE OF LIFE. "'Dead and gone,'--a sorry burden of the Ballad of Life." Death's Jest Book.
Say, fair maids, maying In gardens green, In deep dells straying, What end hath been Two Mays between Of the flowers that shone And your own sweet queen - "They are dead and gone!"
Say, grave priests, praying In dule and teen, From cells decaying What have ye seen Of the proud and mean, Of Judas and John, Of the foul and clean? - "They are dead and gone!"
Say, kings, arraying Loud wars to win, Of your manslaying What gain ye glean? "They are fierce and keen, But they fall anon, On the sword that lean, - They are dead and gone!"
ENVOY.
Through the mad world's scene, We are drifting on, To this tune, I ween, "They are dead and gone!"
BALLADE OF BLUE CHINA.
There's a joy without canker or cark, There's a pleasure eternally new, 'Tis to gloat on the glaze and the mark Of china that's ancient and blue; Unchipp'd all the centuries through It has pass'd, since the chime of it rang, And they fashion'd it, figure and hue, In the reign of the Emperor Hwang.
These dragons (their tails, you remark, Into bunches of gillyflowers grew), - When Noah came out of the ark, Did these lie in wait for his crew? They snorted, they snapp'd, and they slew, They were mighty of fin and of fang, And their portraits Celestials drew In the reign of the Emperor Hwang.
Here's a pot with a cot in a park, In a park where the peach-blossoms blew, Where the lovers eloped in the dark, Lived, died, and were changed into two Bright birds that eternally flew Through the boughs of the may, as they sang: 'Tis a tale was undoubtedly true In the reign of the Emperor Hwang.
ENVOY.
Come, snarl at my ecstasies, do, Kind critic, your "tongue has a tang" But--a sage never heeded a shrew In the reign of the Emperor Hwang.
BALLADE OF DEAD LADIES. (AFTER VILLON.)
Nay, tell me now in what strange air The Roman Flora dwells to-day. Where Archippiada hides, and where Beautiful Thais has passed away? Whence answers Echo, afield, astray, By mere or stream,--around, below? Lovelier she than a woman of clay; Nay, but where is the last year's snow?
Where is wise Heloise, that care Brought on Abeilard, and dismay? All for her love he found a snare, A maimed poor monk in orders grey; And where's the Queen who willed to slay Buridan, that