These cheeks where the worm never dies,

And has come past the stars of the Lion,

To point us the path to the skies

To the Lethean peace of the skies

Come up, in despite of the Lion,

To shine on us with her bright eyes

Come up, through the lair of the Lion,

With love in her luminous eyes."

But Psyche, uplifting her finger,

Said - "Sadly this star I mistrust

Her pallor I strangely mistrust

Ah, hasten!
– ah, let us not linger!

Ah, fly!
– let us fly!
– for we must."

In terror she spoke; letting sink her

Wings till they trailed in the dust

In agony sobbed; letting sink her

Plumes till they trailed in the dust

Till they sorrowfully trailed in the dust.

I replied - "This is nothing but dreaming.

Let us on, by this tremulous light!

Let us bathe in this crystalline light!

Its Sibyllic splendor is beaming

With Hope and in Beauty to-night

See!
– it flickers up the sky through the night!

Ah, we safely may trust to its gleaming

And be sure it will lead us aright

We surely may trust to a gleaming

That cannot but guide us aright

Since it flickers up to Heaven through the night."

Thus I pacified Psyche and kissed her,

And tempted her out of her gloom

And conquered her scruples and gloom;

And we passed to the end of the vista

But were stopped by the door of a tomb

By the door of a legended tomb:

And I said - "What is written, sweet sister,

On the door of this legended tomb?"

She replied - "Ulalume - Ulalume!

'T is the vault of thy lost Ulalume!"

Then my heart it grew ashen and sober

As the leaves that were crisped and sere

As the leaves that were withering and sere

And I cried - "It was surely October,

On _this_ very night of last year,

That I journeyed - I journeyed down here!

That I brought a dread burden down here

On this night, of all nights in the year,

Ah, what demon hath tempted me here?

Well I know, now, this dim lake of Auber

This misty mid region of Weir:

Well I know, now, this dank tarn of Auber

This ghoul-haunted woodland of Weir."

Said we, then - the two, then - "Ah, can it

Have been that the woodlandish ghouls

The pitiful, the merciful ghouls,

To bar up our way and to ban it

From the secret that lies in these wolds

From the thing that lies hidden in these wolds

Have drawn up the spectre of a planet

From the limbo of lunary souls

This sinfully scintillant planet

From the Hell of the planetary souls?"

(1847-1849)

36. ЮЛАЛЮМ

Скорбь и пепел был цвет небосвода,

Листья сухи и в форме секир,

Листья скрючены в форме секир.

Моего незабвенного года,

Был октябрь, и был сумрачен мир.

То был край, где спят Обера воды,

То был дымно-туманный Уир,

Лес, где озера Обера воды,

Ведьм любимая область - Уир.

Кипарисов аллеей, как странник,

Там я шел с Психеей вдвоем,

Я с душою своей шел вдвоем,

Мрачной думы измученный странник.

Реки мыслей катились огнем,

Словно лава катилась огнем,

Словно серные реки, что Яник

Льет у полюса в сне ледяном,

Что на северном полюсе Яник

Со стоном льет подо льдом.

Разговор наш был - скорбь без исхода,

Каждый помысл, как взмахи секир,

Память срезана взмахом секир:

Мы не помнили месяца, года

(Ах, меж годами страшного года!),

Мы забыли, что в сумраке мир,

Что поблизости Обера воды

(Хоть когда-то входили в Уир!),

Что здесь озера Обера воды,

Лес и область колдуний - Уир!

Дали делались бледны и серы,

И заря была явно близка,

По кадрану созвездий - близка,

Пар прозрачный вставал, полня сферы,