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Thomas Hardy (Томас Гарди (Харди)) The Dead Quire I Beside the Mead of Memories, Where Church-way mounts to Moaning Hill, The sad man sighed his phantasies: He seems to sigh them still. II ‘’Twas the Birth-tide Eve, and the hamleteers Made merry with ancient Mellstock zest, But the Mellstock quire of former years Had entered into rest. III ‘Old Dewy lay by the gaunt yew tree, And Reuben and Michael a pace behind, And Bowman with his family By the wall that the ivies bind. IV ‘The singers had followed one by one, Treble, and tenor, and thorough-bass; And the worm that wasteth had begun To mine their mouldering place. V ‘For two-score years, ere Christ-day light, Mellstock had throbbed to strains from these; But now there echoed on the night No Christmas harmonies. VI ‘Three meadows off, at a dormered inn, The youth had gathered in high carouse, And, ranged on settles, some therein Had drunk them to a drowse. VII ‘Loud, lively, reckless, some had grown, Each dandling on his jigging knee Eliza, Dolly, Nance, or Joan – Livers in levity. VIII ‘The taper flames and hearthfire shine Grew smoke-hazed to a lurid light, And songs on subjects not divine Were warbled forth that night. IX ‘Yet many were sons and grandsons here Of those who, on such eves gone by, At that still hour had throated clear Their anthems to the sky. X ‘The clock belled midnight; and ere long One shouted, “Now ’tis Christmas morn; Here’s to our women old and young, And to John Barleycorn!” XI ‘They drink the toast and shout again: The pewter-ware rings back the boom, And for a breath-while follows then A silence in the room. XII ‘When nigh without, as in old days, The ancient quire of voice and string Seemed singing words of prayer and praise As they had used to sing: XIII ‘While shepherds watch’d their flocks by night, – Thus swells the long familiar sound In many a quaint symphonic flight – To, Glory shone around. XIV ‘The sons defined their fathers’ tones, The widow his whom she had wed, And others in the minor moans The viols of the dead. XV ‘Something supernal has the sound As verse by verse the strain proceeds, And stilly staring on the ground Each roysterer holds and heeds. XVI ‘Towards its chorded closing bar Plaintively, thinly, waned the hymn, Yet lingered, like the notes afar Of banded seraphim. XVII ‘With brows abashed, and reverent tread, The hearkeners sought the tavern door: But nothing, save wan moonlight, spread The empty highway o’er. XVIII ‘While on their hearing fixed and tense The aerial music seemed to sink, As it were gently moving thence Along the river brink. XIX ‘Then did the Quick pursue the Dead By crystal Froom that crinkles there; And still the viewless quire ahead Voiced the old holy air. XX ‘By Bank-walk wicket, brightly bleached, It passed, and ’twixt the hedges twain, Dogged by the living; till it reached The bottom of Church Lane. XXI ‘There, at the turning, it was heard Drawing to where the churchyard lay: But when they followed thitherward It smalled, and died away. XXII ‘Each headstone of the quire, each mound, Confronted them beneath the moon; But no more floated therearound That ancient Birth-night tune. XXIII ‘There Dewy lay by the gaunt yew tree, There Reuben and Michael, a pace behind, And Bowman with his family By the wall that the ivies bind. . . . XXIV ‘As from a dream each sobered son Awoke, and musing reached his door: ’Twas said that of them all, not one Sat in a tavern more.’ XXV – The sad man ceased; and ceased to heed His listener, and crossed the leaze From Moaning Hill towards the mead – The Mead of Memories. 1897 Thomas Hardy's other poems: Распечатать (Print) Количество обращений к стихотворению: 1458 |
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