按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页,按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页,按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部!
————未阅读完?加入书签已便下次继续阅读!
A softer light; more tinged with rose;
Than your grim apparition cast
Upon the darkness of the past。
Listen; and hear in English rhyme
What the good Monk of Lauresheim
Gives as the gossip of his time;
In mediaeval Latin prose。〃
THE STUDENT'S TALE
EMMA AND EGINHARD
When Alcuin taught the sons of Charlemagne;
In the free schools of Aix; how kings should reign;
And with them taught the children of the poor
How subjects should be patient and endure;
He touched the lips of some; as best befit;
With honey from the hives of Holy Writ;
Others intoxicated with the wine
Of ancient history; sweet but less divine;
Some with the wholesome fruits of grammar fed;
Others with mysteries of the stars o'er…head;
That hang suspended in the vaulted sky
Like lamps in some fair palace vast and high。
In sooth; it was a pleasant sight to see
That Saxon monk; with hood and rosary;
With inkhorn at his belt; and pen and book;
And mingled lore and reverence in his look;
Or hear the cloister and the court repeat
The measured footfalls of his sandaled feet;
Or watch him with the pupils of his school;
Gentle of speech; but absolute of rule。
Among them; always earliest in his place。
Was Eginhard; a youth of Frankish race;
Whose face was bright with flashes that forerun
The splendors of a yet unrisen sun。
To him all things were possible; and seemed
Not what he had accomplished; but had dreamed;
And what were tasks to others were his play;
The pastime of an idle holiday。
Smaragdo; Abbot of St。 Michael's; said;
With many a shrug and shaking of the head;
Surely some demon must possess the lad;
Who showed more wit than ever schoolboy had;
And learned his Trivium thus without the rod;
But Alcuin said it was the grace of God。
Thus he grew up; in Logic point…device;
Perfect in Grammar; and in Rhetoric nice;
Science of Numbers; Geometric art;
And lore of Stars; and Music knew by heart;
A Minnesinger; long before the times
Of those who sang their love in Suabian rhymes。
The Emperor; when he heard this good report
Of Eginhard much buzzed about the court;
Said to bimself; 〃This stripling seems to be
Purposely sent into the world for me;
He shall become my scribe; and shall be schooled
In all the arts whereby the world is ruled。〃
Thus did the gentle Eginhard attain
To honor in the court of Charlemagne;
Became the sovereign's favorite; his right hand;
So that his fame was great in all the land;
And all men loved him for his modest grace
And comeliness of figure and of face。
An inmate of the palace; yet recluse;
A man of books; yet sacred from abuse
Among the armed knights with spur on heel;
The tramp of horses and the clang of steel;
And as the Emperor promised he was schooled
In all the arts by which the world is ruled。
But the one art supreme; whose law is fate;
The Emperor never dreamed of till too late。
Home from her convent to the palace came
The lovely Princess Emma; whose sweet name;
Whispered by seneschal or sung by bard;
Had often touched the soul of Eginhard。
He saw her from his window; as in state
She came; by knights attended through the gate;
He saw her at the banquet of that day;
Fresh as the morn; and beautiful as May;
He saw her in the garden; as she strayed
Among the flowers of summer with her maid;
And said to him; 〃O Eginhard; disclose
The meaning and the mystery of the rose〃;
And trembling he made answer: 〃In good sooth;
Its mystery is love; its meaning youth!〃
How can I tell the signals and the signs
By which one heart another heart divines?
How can I tell the many thousand ways
By which it keeps the secret it betrays?
O mystery of love! O strange romance!
Among the Peers and Paladins of France;
Shining in steel; and prancing on gay steeds;
Noble by birth; yet nobler by great deeds;
The Princess Emma had no words nor looks
But for this clerk; this man of thought and books。
The summer passed; the autumn came; the stalks
Of lilies blackened in the garden walks;
The leaves fell; russet…golden and blood…red;
Love…letters thought the poet fancy…led;
Or Jove descending in a shower of gold
Into the lap of Danae of old;
For poets cherish many a strange conceit;
And love transmutes all nature by its heat。
No more the garden lessons; nor the dark
And hurried meetings in the twilight park;
But now the studious lamp; and the delights
Of firesides in the silent winter nights;
And watching from his window hour by hour
The light that burned in Princess Emma's tower。
At length one night; while musing by the fire;
O'ercome at last by his insane desire;
For what will reckless love not do and dare?
He crossed the court; and climbed the winding stair;
With some feigned message in the Emperor's name;
But when he to the lady's presence came
He knelt down at her feet; until she laid
Her hand upon him; like a naked blade;
And whispered in his ear: 〃Arise; Sir Knight;
To my heart's level; O my heart's delight。〃
And there he lingered till the crowing cock;
The Alectryon of the farmyard and the flock;
Sang his aubade with lusty voice and clear;
To tell the sleeping world that dawn was near。
And then they parted; but at parting; lo!
They saw the palace courtyard white with snow;
And; placid as a nun; the moon on high
Gazing from cloudy cloisters of the sky。
〃Alas!〃 he said; 〃how hide the fatal line
Of footprints leading from thy door to mine;
And none returning!〃 Ah; he little knew
What woman's wit; when put to proof; can do!
That night the Emperor; sleepless with the cares
And troubles that attend on state affairs;
Had risen before the dawn; and musing gazed
Into the silent night; as one amazed
To see the calm that reigned o'er all supreme;
When his own reign was but a troubled dream。
The moon lit up the gables capped with snow;
And the white roofs; and half the court below;
And he beheld a form; that seemed to cower
Beneath a burden; come from Emma's tower;
A woman; who upon her shoulders bore
Clerk Eginhard to his own private door;
And then returned in haste; but still essayed
To tread the footprints she herself had made;
And as she passed across the lighted space;
The Emperor saw his daughter Emma's face!
He started not; he did not speak or moan;
But seemed as one who hath been turned to stone;
And stood there like a statue; nor awoke
Out of his trance of pain; till morning broke;
Till the stars faded; and the moon went down;
And o'er the towers and steeples of the town
Came the gray daylight; then the sun; who took
The empire of the world with sovereign look;
Suffusing with a soft and golden glow
All the dead landscape in its shroud of snow;
Touching with flame the tapering chapel spires;
Windows and roofs; and smoke of household fires;
And kindling park and palace as he came;
The stork's nest on the chimney seemed in flame。
And th