Волшебница Шалотт и другие стихотворения

For the Spring and the middle Summer sat each on the lap of the breeze;

And the red passion-flower to the cliffs, and the darkblue clematis, clung,

And starr’d with a myriad blossom the long convolvulus hung;

And the topmost spire of the mountain was lilies in lieu of snow,

And the lilies like glaciers winded down, running out below

Thro’ the fire of the tulip and poppy, the blaze of gorse, and the blush

Of millions of roses that sprang without leaf or a thorn from the bush;

And the whole isle-side flashing down from the peak without ever a tree

Swept like a torrent of gems from the sky to the blue of the sea;

And we roll’d upon capes of crocus and vaunted our kith and our kin,

And we wallow’d in beds of lilies, and chanted the triumph of Finn,

Till each like a golden image was pollen’d from head to feet

And each was as dry as a cricket, with thirst in the middle-day heat.

Blossom and blossom, and promise of blossom, but never a fruit!

And we hated the Flowering Isle, as we hated the isle that was mute,

And we tore up the flowers by the million and flung them in bight and bay,

And we left but a naked rock, and in anger we sail’d away.

And we came to the Isle of Fruits: all round from the cliffs and the capes,

Purple or amber, dangled a hundred fathom of grapes,

And the warm melon lay like a little sun on the tawny sand,

And the fig ran up from the beach and rioted over the land,

And the mountain arose like a jewell’d throne thro’ the fragrant air,

Glowing with all-colour’d plums and with golden masses of pear,

And the crimson and scarlet of berries that flamed upon bine and vine,

But in every berry and fruit was the poisonous pleasure of wine;

And the peak of the mountain was apples, the hugest that ever were seen,

And they prest, as they grew, on each other, with hardly a leaflet between,

And all of them redder than rosiest health or than utterest shame,

And setting, when Even descended, the very sunset aflame;

And we stay’d three days, and we gorged and we madden’d, till every one drew

His sword on his fellow to slay him, and ever they struck and they slew;

And myself, I had eaten but sparely, and fought till I sunder’d the fray,

Then I bad them remember my father’s death, and we sail’d away.