《Stanzas From The Grande Chartreuse By Matthew Arnold》歌词

[00:00:00] Stanzas From The Grande Chartreuse By Matthew Arnold - Gideon Wagner

[00:00:04] Stanzas From The Grande Chartreuse By Matthew Arnold

[00:00:10] Through Alpine meadows softsuffused

[00:00:12] With rain where thick the crocus blows

[00:00:16] Past the dark forges long disused

[00:00:19] The muletrack from Saint Laurent goes

[00:00:22] The bridge is crossd and slow we ride

[00:00:26] Through forest up the mountainside

[00:00:30] The autumnal evening darkens round

[00:00:33] The wind is up and drives the rain

[00:00:35] While hark far down with strangled sound

[00:00:39] Doth the Dead Guiers stream complain

[00:00:42] Where that wet smoke among the woods

[00:00:44] Over his boiling cauldron broods

[00:00:47] Swift rush the spectral vapours white

[00:00:50] Past limestone scars with ragged pines

[00:00:54] Showingthen blotting from our sight

[00:00:57] Haltthrough the clouddrift something shines

[00:01:00] High in the valley wet and drear

[00:01:03] The huts of Courrerie appear

[00:01:06] Strike leftward cries our guide and higher

[00:01:09] Mounts up the stony forestway

[00:01:12] At last the encircling trees retire

[00:01:15] Look through the showery twilight grey

[00:01:18] What pointed roofs are these advance

[00:01:20] A palace of the Kings of France

[00:01:24] Approach for what we seek is here

[00:01:26] Alight and sparely sup and wait

[00:01:29] For rest in this outbuilding near

[00:01:31] Then cross the sward and reach that gate

[00:01:33] Knock pass the wicket Thou art come

[00:01:36] To the Carthusians worldfamed home

[00:01:41] The silent courts where night and day

[00:01:44] Into their stonecarved basins cold

[00:01:46] The splashing icy fountains play

[00:01:49] The humid corridors behold

[00:01:52] Where ghostlike in the deepening night

[00:01:55] Cowld forms brush by in gleaming white

[00:01:59] The chapel where no organs peal

[00:02:02] Invests the stern and naked prayer

[00:02:05] With penitential cries they kneel

[00:02:07] And wrestle rising then with bare

[00:02:10] And white uplifted faces stand

[00:02:13] Passing the Host from hand to hand

[00:02:16] Each takes and then his visage wan

[00:02:18] Is buried in his cowl once more

[00:02:21] The cellsthe suffering Son of Man

[00:02:23] Upon the wallthe kneeworn floor

[00:02:27] And where they sleep that wooden bed

[00:02:30] Shall their coffin be when dead

[00:02:33] The library where tract and tome

[00:02:37] Not to feed priestly pride are there

[00:02:39] To hymn the conquering march of Rome

[00:02:42] Nor yet to amuse as ours are

[00:02:45] They paint of souls the inner strife

[00:02:48] Their drops of blood their death in life

[00:02:52] The garden overgrownyet mild

[00:02:54] See fragrant herbs are flowering there

[00:02:58] Strong children of the Alpine wild

[00:03:01] Whose culture is the brethrens care

[00:03:03] Of human tasks their only one

[00:03:07] And cheerful works beneath the sun