Poems of Paul Verlaine | Page 2

us, pensive pilgrims, here.
MANDOLINE.
The courtly serenaders,
The beauteous listeners,?Sit idling 'neath the branches
A balmy zephyr stirs.
It's Tircis and Aminta,
Clitandre,--ever there!--?Damis, of melting sonnets
To many a frosty fair.
Their trailing flowery dresses,
Their fine beflowered coats,?Their elegance and lightness,
And shadows blue,--all floats
And mingles,--circling, wreathing,
In moonlight opaline,?While through the zephyr's harping
Tinkles the mandoline.
L'AMOUR PAR TERRE
The wind the other night blew down the Love
That in the dimmest corner of the park?So subtly used to smile, bending his arc,?And sight of whom did us so deeply move
One day! The other night's wind blew him down!
The marble dust whirls in the morning breeze.?Oh, sad to view, o'erblotted by the trees,?There on the base, the name of great renown!
Oh, sad to view the empty pedestal!
And melancholy fancies come and go?Across my dream, whereon a day of woe?Foreshadowed is--I know what will befall!
Oh, sad!--And you are saddened also, Sweet,
Are not you, by this scene? although your eye?Pursues the gold and purple butterfly?That flutters o'er the wreck strewn at our feet.
[Illustration: "En Sourdine"]
EN SOURDINE
Tranquil in the twilight dense
By the spreading branches made,?Let us breathe the influence
Of the silence and the shade.
Let your heart melt into mine,
And your soul reach out to me,?'Mid the languors of the pine
And the sighing arbute-tree.
Close your eyes, your hands let be
Folded on your slumbering heart,?From whose hold all treachery
Drive forever, and all art.
Let us with the hour accord!
Let us let the gentle wind,?Rippling in the sunburnt sward,
Bring us to a patient mind!
And when Night across the air
Shall her solemn shadow fling,?Touching voice of our despair,
Long the nightingale shall sing.
COLLOQUE SENTIMENTAL
In the deserted park, silent and vast,?Erewhile two shadowy glimmering figures passed.
Their lips were colorless, and dead their eyes;?Their words were scarce more audible than sighs.
In the deserted park, silent and vast,?Two spectres conjured up the buried past.
"Our ancient ecstasy, do you recall?"?"Why, pray, should I remember it at all?"
"Does still your heart at mention of me glow??Do still you see my soul in slumber?" "No!"
"Ah, blessed, blissful days when our lips met!?You loved me so!" "Quite likely,--I forget."
"How sweet was hope, the sky how blue and fair!"?"The sky grew black, the hope became despair."
Thus walked they 'mid the frozen weeds, these dead,?And Night alone o'erheard the things they said.
La Bonne Chanson
SINCE SHADE RELENTS
Since shade relents, since 'tis indeed the day,
Since hope I long had deemed forever flown,?Wings back to me that call on her and pray,
Since so much joy consents to be my own,--
The dark designs all I relinquish here,
And all the evil dreams. Ah, done am I?Above all with the narrowed lips, the sneer,
The heartless wit that laughed where one should sigh.
Away, clenched fist and bosom's angry swell,
That knave and fool at every turn abound.?Away, hard unforgivingness! Farewell,
Oblivion in a hated brewage found!
For I mean, now a Being of the Morn
Has shed across my night excelling rays?Of love at once immortal and newborn,--
By favor of her smile, her glance, her grace,
I mean by you upheld, O gentle hand,
Wherein mine trembles,--led, sweet eyes, by you,?To walk straight, lie the path o'er mossy land
Or barren waste that rocks and pebbles strew.
Yes, calm I mean to walk through life, and straight,
Patient of all, unanxious of the goal,?Void of all envy, violence, or hate
It shall be duty done with cheerful soul.
And as I may, to lighten the long way,
Go singing airs ingenuous and brave,?She'll listen to me graciously, I say,--
And, verily, no other heaven I crave.
[Illustration: "Avant Que Tu T'en Ailles."]
BEFORE YOUR LIGHT QUITE FAIL
Before your light quite fail,?Already paling star,
(The quail?Sings in the thyme afar!)
Turn on the poet's eyes?That love makes overrun--
(See rise?The lark to meet the sun!)
Your glance, that presently?Must drown in the blue morn;
(What glee?Amid the rustling corn!)
Then flash my message true?Down yonder,--far away!--
(The dew?Lies sparkling on the hay.)
Across what visions seek?The Dear One slumbering still.
(Quick, quick!?The sun has reached the hill!)
O'ER THE WOOD'S BROW
O'er the wood's brow,
Pale, the moon stares;?In every bough
Wandering airs?Faintly suspire. . . .
O heart's-desire!
Two willow-trees
Waver and weep,?One in the breeze,
One in the deep?Glass of the stream. . . .
Dream we our dream!
An infinite
Resignedness?Rains where the white
Mists opalesce?In the moon-shower. . . .
Stay, perfect hour!
THE SCENE BEHIND THE CARRIAGE WINDOW-PANES
The scene behind the carriage window-panes?Goes flitting past in furious flight; whole plains?With streams and harvest-fields and trees and blue?Are swallowed by the whirlpool, whereinto?The telegraph's slim pillars topple o'er,?Whose wires look strangely like a music-score.
A smell of smoke and steam, a horrid din?As of a thousand clanking chains that pin?A thousand giants that are whipped and howl,--?And, suddenly, long hoots as of an owl.
What is it all to me? Since in mine eyes?The vision lingers that beatifies,?Since still the soft voice murmurs in mine ear,?And since the Name, so sweet, so high, so dear,?Pure pivot of this madding whirl, prevails?Above the brutal clangor of the rails?
THE ROSY HEARTH, THE LAMPLIGHT'S NARROW BEAM
The rosy hearth, the lamplight's narrow beam,?The meditation that is rather