As in a Pond
As in a pond that sleeps o'erhung by trees,
Two things at once in many a soul one sees :--
The sky, which points, the surface pure and calm,
With all its rays and clouds the heart to charm;
And then the depth, slime, hideous, dark, and dead,
Where foul black reptiles swarm, and vaguely tread.
poem by Victor Hugo
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God Whose Gifts In Gracious Flood
God, whose gifts in gracious flood
Unto all who seek are sent,
Only asks you to be good,
And is content.
So the world, when all things are
Sparkling, yet does nought ignite,
Only asks you to be fair,
And finds delight.
And my heart, in the sweet shade
Of two beauteous eyes steeped o'er,
Only asks if you be glad,
And nothing more.
poem by Victor Hugo
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June Nights
In summer, when day has fled, the plain covered with flowers
Pours out far away an intoxicating scent;
Eyes shut, ears half open to noises,
We only half sleep in a transparent slumber.
The stars are purer, the shade seems pleasanter;
A hazy half-day colours the eternal dome;
And the sweet pale dawn awaiting her hour
Seems to wander all night at the bottom of the sky.
poem by Victor Hugo
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Then, Most, I Smile
Late it is to look so proud,
Daisy queen! come is the gloom
Of the winter-burdened cloud!--
'But, in winter, most I bloom!'
Star of even! sunk the sun!
Lost for e'er the ruddy line;
And the earth is veiled in dun,--
'Nay, in darkness, best I shine!'
O, my soul! art 'bove alarm,
Quaffing thus the cup of gall--
Canst thou face the grave with calm?--
'Yes, the Christians smile at all.'
poem by Victor Hugo
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If My Verses Had The Wings
Songs as sweet as summer brings,
To your flowery lawn should fly
If my verses had the wings—
Wings of birds that haunt the sky.
Like the spark that upward springs,
They would seek your smiling hearth,
If my verses had the wings—
Wings such as a spirth hath.
Near you, close as ivy clings,
They would dwell by night and day
If my verses had the wings—
Wings like love to speed the way.
poem by Victor Hugo
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Lover’s Song
[ANGELO, Act II., May, 1835.]
My soul unto thy heart is given,
In mystic fold do they entwine,
So bound in one that, were they riven,
Apart my soul would life resign.
Thou art my song and I the lyre;
Thou art the breeze and I the brier;
The altar I, and thou the fire;
Mine the deep love, the beauty thine!
As fleets away the rapid hour
While weeping--may
My sorrowing lay
Touch thee, sweet flower.
poem by Victor Hugo
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A un poète aveugle
Merci, poète! -- au seuil de mes lares pieux,
Comme un hôte divin, tu viens et te dévoiles ;
Et l'auréole d'or de tes vers radieux
Brille autour de mon nom comme un cercle d'étoiles.
Chante ! Milton chantait ; chante ! Homère a chanté.
Le poète des sens perce la triste brume ;
L'aveugle voit dans l'ombre un monde de clarté.
Quand l'oeil du corps s'éteint,l'oeil de l'esprit s'allume.
poem by Victor Hugo
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To Cruel Ocean
Where are the hapless shipmen?--disappeared,
Gone down, where witness none, save Night, hath been,
Ye deep, deep waves, of kneeling mothers feared,
What dismal tales know ye of things unseen?
Tales that ye tell your whispering selves between
The while in clouds to the flood-tide ye pour;
And this it is that gives you, as I ween,
Those mournful voices, mournful evermore,
When ye come in at eve to us who dwell on shore.
poem by Victor Hugo
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The Quiet Rural Church
It was a humble church, with arches low,
The church we entered there,
Where many a weary soul since long ago
Had past with plaint or prayer.
Mournful and still it was at day's decline,
The day we entered there;
As in a loveless heart, at the lone shrine,
The fires extinguished were.
Scarcely was heard to float some gentlest sound,
Scarcely some low breathed word,
As in a forest fallen asleep, is found
Just one belated bird.
poem by Victor Hugo
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A une femme
Enfant! si j'étais roi, je donnerais l'empire,
Et mon char, et mon sceptre, et mon peuple à genoux
Et ma couronne d'or, et mes bains de porphyre,
Et mes flottes, à qui la mer ne peut suffire,
Pour un regard de vous!
Si j'étais Dieu, la terre et l'air avec les ondes,
Les anges, les démons courbés devant ma loi,
Et le profond chaos aux entrailles fécondes,
L'éternité, l'espace, et les cieux, et les mondes,
Pour un baiser de toi!
poem by Victor Hugo
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