2018年4月30日 星期一

0430 2018 Mon.




早上回辦公室,知道曹永洋學長昨天來訪未遇。



上周,文華學長回京都前還我的書。很高興有人利用書架上的書。


彭錦堂指出《浮士德博士》譯文的高妙處 (pp.568~69)、


猶太人是非決策盲點

……

2018年4月29日 星期日

0429 2018 日

今天紫藤廬有聚會,約10人參加,後續會有報告。會後,我請彭夫人、錦堂夫婦、家恆兄等聚餐,提議如上。在此呼喚彭兄的朋友參加。

鼓吹/請家恆兄幫忙編《彭淮棟先生文存及紀念文》。
我在忙
2018年為紀念Herbert A. Simon的系列演講『益友系列: 友情六講 (及主要文獻根據 ) 2018年6月15日 』主題之一,預計5月9日在漢清講堂錄影。
I. Herbert A. Simon 1916~2001and Allen Newell 1927~1992
II.《席勒 (Friedrich Schiller 1759~1805)與歌德 (Johann Wolfgang von Goethe 1749~1832)》
III. Amos Tversky and Daniel Kahneman
IV. Gustave Flaubert, 1821~80 and George Sand 1804~76
V. 川端康成 與 東山魁夷
VI. 馬克斯與恩格斯 (2018年暫時跳過)
VII. W. Edwards Deming and W. A. Shewhart (10月14日)



"To suffer, to weep,
To enjoy, to be glad," "Prometheus" by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe.
不想再重複說阿彭的"故事"。
《宋詩紀事補訂 卷十四》作者:蘇舜欽
春陰垂野草青青,時有幽花一樹明。
晚泊孤舟古祠下,滿川風雨看潮生。



簡談大學校長"遴選"
大學是英國的寶貴財富 (牛津大學校長 Louise Richardson)
來台大專境外生11萬7970人 創歷年新高
蘋中信:管案說明了台大的自我消解(杭之)
《陳維昭回憶錄—在轉捩點上》;"臺北醫學大學"⋯⋯
更多

我們有許多組織、章程等,都無法達成有品質的決策。 美國的大學多,很早就注意到,美國大學校長的供需和品質,都是問題,而選校長是"難事"。 Leadership and Ambiguity: The American College President (1974, 2...
HCEDUCATION.BLOGSPOT.TW

東山魁夷1934年在柏林大學修日本美術史:...... 雪舟「秋冬山水」的小畫面,擴大映照在大螢幕,極具氣派。.......高度評價桃山時代的繪畫...... 「那樣的時代少有........」

https://www.youtube.com/watch… 212 日本水墨画家「雪舟」(1420-1506年) 漢清講堂 2017-12-20 雪舟(せっしゅう、応永27年(1420年) -… YOUTUBE.COM esshū Tōyō 1420-15...
HANCHINGCHUNG.BLOGSPOT.TW






Sand+Flaubert
http://www.gutenberg.org/cache/epub/5115/pg5115.txt

GEORGE SAND 1804~76
'1873 Flaubert and Turgenev visit Nohant. Sand travel one month throughout France despite her age...
1876 ...Flaubert who had read them serially, wrote to Sand: " La Tour de Percemont pleased me extremely, but Marianne has literally enhanced me."





錦堂學長,

(請代轉魏老師)

今天很高興跟您們打招呼,聽您們的高論,指出《浮士德博士》譯文的高妙處 (pp.568~69)、林順夫教授的文章之翻譯。

今天聽魏淑珠談《彭淮棟翻譯作品中的文言文》,才知道林順夫的《透過夢之窗口》 (新竹:清華大學出版社,2009)中有多篇是作者請彭先生翻譯的。 

您們有空上台北,請撥出二鐘頭來漢清講堂錄影。下次是6月15日。

《彭淮棟紀念文集》一定會請家恆兄編出、印出 (最好周年忌前出版)。


哥德《義大利遊記》W. H Auden等;德文本我請張旺山博士帶回送阿彭。

Italian Journey: 1786-1788 (Penguin Classics) Paperback – December 1, 1992

彭淮棟在漢清講堂:7片;吳鳴等人談托馬斯.曼(Thomas Mann)《浮士德博士》(Doctor Faustus)裡的音樂

http://hanchingchung.blogspot.tw/2018/03/7.html






今晨讀東山魁夷先生的《回憶川端先生》,其中記兩次一起夫婦出遊,我就決定跟著紙上走一回。
照片: "左から井上靖、川端康成、東山魁夷の3人の巨頭が、 安曇野に会した。長峰(ながみね)山で、1970年5月12日。"
安曇野市(旧穂高町)。
此行,東山魁夷先生的記事,如上面提到的,要點說了。
井上靖先生則在1970年6月寫篇《留下寧靜的美麗》 (我讀的都是中文翻譯《穂高的月亮》找不到原書名:兩篇對於植物和樹名的翻譯,相差頗大)。
---
發現網路的資料仍很有限 (古寺的寶物可能只給特別來賓看,又,可惜,我只有神護寺的,沒旁的西明寺)。
東山魁夷先生30年代留學遊歷歐洲,畫過Weimar和 Jena等地,也找不到。


2018年4月28日 星期六

0428 2018 六


218 生命典範的故事 - 李亮欽老師 2018-04-22 沈金標
四月二十二的漢清講堂,很謝謝清華大學的張旺山教授的尼…
YOUTUBE.COM

我們有許多組織、章程等,都無法達成有品質的決策。
美國的大學多,很早就注意選校長是難事。
In "Leadership and Ambiguity: The American College President(1974, 270 pages)" , Professors Michael D. Cohen and James G. March of Stanford University...
譬如說,過去十年稍微注意各校的"校長遴選辦法",台灣的,都草率。美國有些名大學,委託校外的專業人事公司提供名單,這稍好些。但......
我上周跟沈先生說我讀過幹過辛辛那提大學校長的回憶錄,他一年在校長公館舉辦500場派對.......
-----
我們的大樓是過去的老公寓,7樓30年了,管理基金數百萬,過去有人掛名領錢多年, 新一代的好多了。近年,開始討論換電梯或其控制系統的事,這還牽涉到廠商的技術與住戶對其信心,就很難辦事了.......

今晨讀東山魁夷先生的《回憶川端先生》,其中記兩次一起夫婦出遊,我就決定跟著紙上走一回。發現網路的資料仍很有限 (古寺的寶物可能只給特別來賓看,又,可惜,我只有神護寺的,沒旁的西明寺)。
東山魁夷先生30年代留學遊歷歐洲,畫過Weimar和 Jena等地,也找不到。


中國的太陽能供給過剩,無配套處理,也會出問題。
2016年4月28日 23:33 ·
Freud: A Life for Our Time is a 1988 biography of Sigmund Freud, the founder of psychoanalysis, by historian Peter Gay.
---《佛洛伊德傳》By Peter Gay :看Sigmund Freud手稿一處,只寫Wivenhoe:這應該是英國Essex大學所在地Wivenhoe Park*。 該校有University of Essex Centre for Psychoanalytic Studies,每年有Freud 講座。我從該中心知道倫敦的演講資訊和這篇: Freud 收藏品展我1990在荷蘭萊登大學參觀過;Peter Gay 當時為它寫過一本書。
* 該校的The Freud Collection 事1998年從文學代理商 Mark Paterson and Associates (版權商)處轉來。所以Peter Gay 應該是到那兒去的,不是到大學圖書館。

這篇提到我們2008年的戴明學者講座,很快,快十周年了。前一陣子,想過"再辦一次"。
2013年4月28日 23:09 ·
在台中老家 (回來幫吳氏祖厝新設計案) 。同學李基正 (Peter Lee)先生從網路上知道我在台中,特地從沙鹿趕來一聚 (請吃飯),真是風雨故人來。
Peter 與我在美術館前停車,找適合於長談的餐廳。妙的是,我們初以為前面的車是逆向停車,不過看他們很淡定,我們掃瞄180度之後,赫然發現是我們逆向 ,闖入單行道。Peter說這經歷有寓意,人總是先怪別人。
我們找一家法式餐廳 ,他們賣早餐(約250元),還在清掃,所以我們在外頭的露天桌椅聊起。Peter 每年都會捐點錢給東海,之前幾年他捐給博雅學程 (覺得效果可以) ,今年捐給勞作制。他跟我講最近的一些經歷,先是一次看文理大道的學生,將落葉都掃入排水溝中,他示範"正確掃法",並趕緊報出他是學長 ,讓他們"肅然起敬"。
另外一次他租真理廳 (學校設備最佳之新場所,我們2008年在此舉辦"戴明學者講座"......)給各地百來位獅子會的朋友開會,他專門請學生打掃會場與照顧洗手間的清潔。由於落葉頗多,所以開會當天,他自己先到,在周遭就打掃起來。他與一位工讀生說 ,會場還要打掃,某位工讀生認為他只負責場內 ,前一天就弄得很乾淨。一句話,兩位工讀生的"態度"天壤之別。我們談到如何將"工頭"教育成leader,懂得示範,懂得要求,懂得建立起有向心力的團隊。
Peter謙虛地說他注重的不是學校的大方向 ,因為許多事他不懂。他更重視學生的人文修養,大力鼓吹大學是通識教育為主,所以必修學分要盡量少,好讓學生多選修自己喜歡的課。
他認為70年代前半葉的"世界主要宗教"等課程都讓他受益,所以他可以同理心地 和中東地區的客人談伊斯蘭教,贏得各國都有不錯的朋友。
他談當初剛出道時,如何以熱心和認真 (寫了7-8本自動製罐機的手冊,他們公司以前以技術自豪,一台價數百萬元的機器,沒manuals) 而讓老闆等人覺得他是中間幹部。等他做兩年想出國留學,老闆用到歐州和非美國地區的市場開發工作,勸他留任。可以公費到世界各地打天下。
他的闖天下的故事很多,如1983年到印度失蹤二周,每天的故事都是一籮筐。
很可惜在近2點時,KJ Wu就提前到我家 (約3點),我就說回去認識吳董吧。妙的是,他也是廣東中山市通,所以他們可以大談"窈窕"地方 (吳董說,廣東的許多地名都古色古香......)。
90年代初,Peter 他們就去設廠,現在已遷到越南。吳先生則想多往自動化走,漸漸"返鄉",因為中國的誘因幾乎沒啦。

Wiki的錯誤比較不容易發現。
Amalie Becker (1778-97)
Goethe immortalized her in a poem which first appeared in Schiller's Musen Almanach of 1799.[1]
然而,席勒死於1805:"Recitations and musical settings
Goethe wrote his epilogue to the "Song of the Bell" shortly after Schiller’s death in order to have it read by the actress Amalie Becker at the conclusion of a memorial celebration in the Lauchstädt Theater. After the three last acts of Maria Stuart, the "Song of the Bell" was recited with distributed roles. "





圖像裡可能有2 個人


沒有自動替代文字。

沒有自動替代文字。



今天家恆這篇,讓我要寫篇"譯藝獎的遺憾"。 我是 彭淮棟兄的大學同學,一起登過武陵四秀、參加媽祖進香,到台南找老師等等。當兵 後,在永和等地都保持聯絡,互訪等。 他1984~87年翻譯好幾本書,我認為憑這些成就,就可.....
HCTRANSLATIONS.BLOGSPOT.TW

2018年4月27日 星期五

THE LAY OF THE BELL.


在英文,稱打油詩等"劣詩"為
doggerel
ˈdɒɡ(ə)r(ə)l/
noun
  1. comic verse composed in irregular rhythm.

    "doggerel verses"
    • verse or words that are badly written or expressed.

      "the last stanza deteriorates into doggerel"
例:He translated into wretched English doggerel Schiller's Das Lied von Der Glocke. (Herbert Simon's Models of My Life, p.9)
他還把(Schiller)的詩《大鐘歌》翻譯成糟糕的英文打油詩。


[44]  "I call the living--I mourn the dead--I break the lightning."
These words are inscribed on the great bell of the Minster of
Schaffhausen--also on that of the Church of Art near Lucerne. There was
an old belief in Switzerland that the undulation of air caused by the
sound of a bell, broke the electric fluid of a thunder-cloud.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=l4isfql_MaY

          THE LAY OF THE BELL.


   "Vivos voco--Mortuos plango--Fulgura frango." [44]

     Fast, in its prison-walls of earth,
      Awaits the mould of baked clay.
     Up, comrades, up, and aid the birth
      The bell that shall be born to-day!
        Who would honor obtain,
        With the sweat and the pain,
   The praise that man gives to the master must buy.--
   But the blessing withal must descend from on high!

     And well an earnest word beseems
      The work the earnest hand prepares;
     Its load more light the labor deems,
      When sweet discourse the labor shares.
     So let us ponder--nor in vain--
      What strength can work when labor wills;
     For who would not the fool disdain
      Who ne'er designs what he fulfils?
     And well it stamps our human race,
      And hence the gift to understand,
     That man within the heart should trace
      Whate'er he fashions with the hand.

     From the fir the fagot take,
      Keep it, heap it hard and dry,
     That the gathered flame may break
      Through the furnace, wroth and high.
        When the copper within
        Seeths and simmers--the tin,
   Pour quick, that the fluid that feeds the bell
   May flow in the right course glib and well.

     Deep hid within this nether cell,
      What force with fire is moulding thus,
     In yonder airy tower shall dwell,
      And witness wide and far of us!
     It shall, in later days, unfailing,
      Rouse many an ear to rapt emotion;
     Its solemn voice with sorrow wailing,
      Or choral chiming to devotion.
     Whatever fate to man may bring,
      Whatever weal or woe befall,
     That metal tongue shall backward ring,
      The warning moral drawn from all.

     See the silvery bubbles spring!
      Good! the mass is melting now!
     Let the salts we duly bring
      Purge the flood, and speed the flow.
        From the dross and the scum,
        Pure, the fusion must come;
   For perfect and pure we the metal must keep,
   That its voice may be perfect, and pure, and deep.

     That voice, with merry music rife,
      The cherished child shall welcome in;
     What time the rosy dreams of life,
      In the first slumber's arms begin.
     As yet, in Time's dark womb unwarning,
      Repose the days, or foul or fair;
     And watchful o'er that golden morning,
      The mother-love's untiring care!
     And swift the years like arrows fly
     No more with girls content to play,
     Bounds the proud boy upon his way,
     Storms through loud life's tumultuous pleasures,
     With pilgrim staff the wide world measures;
     And, wearied with the wish to roam,
     Again seeks, stranger-like, the father-home.
     And, lo, as some sweet vision breaks
      Out from its native morning skies
     With rosy shame on downcast cheeks,
      The virgin stands before his eyes.

     A nameless longing seizes him!
      From all his wild compassions flown;
     Tears, strange till then, his eyes bedim;
      He wanders all alone.
     Blushing, he glides where'er she move;
      Her greeting can transport him;
     To every mead to deck his love,
      The happy wild flowers court him!
     Sweet hope--and tender longing--ye
      The growth of life's first age of gold;
     When the heart, swelling, seems to see
      The gates of heaven unfold!
   O love, the beautiful and brief! O prime,
   Glory, and verdure, of life's summer time!

     Browning o'er, the pipes are simmering,
      Dip this wand of clay [45] within;
     If like glass the wand be glimmering,
      Then the casting may begin.
        Brisk, brisk now, and see
        If the fusion flow free;
   If--(happy and welcome indeed were the sign!)
   If the hard and the ductile united combine.
   For still where the strong is betrothed to the weak,
   And the stern in sweet marriage is blent with the meek,
    Rings the concord harmonious, both tender and strong
   So be it with thee, if forever united,
   The heart to the heart flows in one, love-delighted;
    Illusion is brief, but repentance is long.

     Lovely, thither are they bringing.
      With the virgin wreath, the bride!
     To the love-feast clearly ringing,
      Tolls the church-bell far and wide!
     With that sweetest holiday,
      Must the May of life depart;
   With the cestus loosed--away
    Flies illusion from the heart!
     Yet love lingers lonely,
      When passion is mute,
     And the blossoms may only
      Give way to the fruit.
     The husband must enter
      The hostile life,
      With struggle and strife
      To plant or to watch.
      To snare or to snatch,
      To pray and importune,
     Must wager and venture
      And hunt down his fortune!
   Then flows in a current the gear and the gain,
   And the garners are filled with the gold of the grain,
   Now a yard to the court, now a wing to the centre!
       Within sits another,
        The thrifty housewife;
       The mild one, the mother--
        Her home is her life.
       In its circle she rules,
       And the daughters she schools
        And she cautions the boys,
       With a bustling command,
       And a diligent hand
        Employed she employs;
       Gives order to store,
       And the much makes the more;
   Locks the chest and the wardrobe, with lavender smelling,
   And the hum of the spindle goes quick through the dwelling;
   And she hoards in the presses, well polished and full,
   The snow of the linen, the shine of the wool;
   Blends the sweet with the good, and from care and endeavor
   Rests never!
     Blithe the master (where the while
     From his roof he sees them smile)
      Eyes the lands, and counts the gain;
     There, the beams projecting far,
     And the laden storehouse are,
     And the granaries bowed beneath
      The blessed golden grain;
     There, in undulating motion,
     Wave the cornfields like an ocean.
     Proud the boast the proud lips breathe:--
     "My house is built upon a rock,
     And sees unmoved the stormy shock
      Of waves that fret below!"
     What chain so strong, what girth so great,
     To bind the giant form of fate?--
      Swift are the steps of woe.

     Now the casting may begin;
      See the breach indented there:
     Ere we run the fusion in,
      Halt--and speed the pious prayer!
        Pull the bung out--
        See around and about
   What vapor, what vapor--God help us!--has risen?--
   Ha! the flame like a torrent leaps forth from its prison!
   What friend is like the might of fire
   When man can watch and wield the ire?
   Whate'er we shape or work, we owe
   Still to that heaven-descended glow.
   But dread the heaven-descended glow,
   When from their chain its wild wings go,
   When, where it listeth, wide and wild
   Sweeps free Nature's free-born child.
   When the frantic one fleets,
    While no force can withstand,
   Through the populous streets
    Whirling ghastly the brand;
   For the element hates
   What man's labor creates,
    And the work of his hand!
   Impartially out from the cloud,
    Or the curse or the blessing may fall!
   Benignantly out from the cloud
    Come the dews, the revivers of all!
   Avengingly out from the cloud
    Come the levin, the bolt, and the ball!
   Hark--a wail from the steeple!--aloud
   The bell shrills its voice to the crowd!
      Look--look--red as blood
        All on high!
   It is not the daylight that fills with its flood
        The sky!
   What a clamor awaking
    Roars up through the street,
   What a hell-vapor breaking.
    Rolls on through the street,
   And higher and higher
   Aloft moves the column of fire!
   Through the vistas and rows
   Like a whirlwind it goes,
   And the air like the stream from the furnace glows.
   Beams are crackling--posts are shrinking
   Walls are sinking--windows clinking--
        Children crying--
        Mothers flying--
   And the beast (the black ruin yet smouldering under)
   Yells the howl of its pain and its ghastly wonder!
   Hurry and skurry--away--away,
   The face of the night is as clear as day!
        As the links in a chain,
        Again and again
   Flies the bucket from hand to hand;
        High in arches up-rushing
        The engines are gushing,
   And the flood, as a beast on the prey that it hounds
   With a roar on the breast of the element bounds.
        To the grain and the fruits,
        Through the rafters and beams,
   Through the barns and garners it crackles and streams!
   As if they would rend up the earth from its roots,
        Rush the flames to the sky
        Giant-high;
   And at length,
   Wearied out and despairing, man bows to their strength!
   With an idle gaze sees their wrath consume,
   And submits to his doom!
        Desolate
   The place, and dread
   For storms the barren bed.
   In the blank voids that cheerful casements were,
   Comes to and fro the melancholy air,
    And sits despair;
   And through the ruin, blackening in its shroud
   Peers, as it flits, the melancholy cloud.

   One human glance of grief upon the grave
   Of all that fortune gave
   The loiterer takes--then turns him to depart,
   And grasps the wanderer's staff and mans his heart
   Whatever else the element bereaves
   One blessing more than all it reft--it leaves,
   The faces that he loves!--He counts them o'er,
   See--not one look is missing from that store!

   Now clasped the bell within the clay--
    The mould the mingled metals fill--
   Oh, may it, sparkling into day,
    Reward the labor and the skill!
        Alas! should it fail,
        For the mould may be frail--
   And still with our hope must be mingled the fear--
   And, ev'n now, while we speak, the mishap may be near!
   To the dark womb of sacred earth
    This labor of our hands is given,
   As seeds that wait the second birth,
    And turn to blessings watched by heaven!
   Ah, seeds, how dearer far than they,
    We bury in the dismal tomb,
   Where hope and sorrow bend to pray
   That suns beyond the realm of day
    May warm them into bloom!

        From the steeple
         Tolls the bell,
        Deep and heavy,
         The death-knell!
   Guiding with dirge-note--solemn, sad, and slow,
   To the last home earth's weary wanderers know.
        It is that worshipped wife--
        It is that faithful mother! [46]
   Whom the dark prince of shadows leads benighted,
   From that dear arm where oft she hung delighted
   Far from those blithe companions, born
   Of her, and blooming in their morn;
   On whom, when couched her heart above,
   So often looked the mother-love!

   Ah! rent the sweet home's union-band,
    And never, never more to come--
   She dwells within the shadowy land,
    Who was the mother of that home!
   How oft they miss that tender guide,
    The care--the watch--the face--the mother--
   And where she sate the babes beside,
    Sits with unloving looks--another!

      While the mass is cooling now,
       Let the labor yield to leisure,
      As the bird upon the bough,
       Loose the travail to the pleasure.
      When the soft stars awaken,
      Each task be forsaken!
   And the vesper-bell lulling the earth into peace,
   If the master still toil, chimes the workman's release!

    Homeward from the tasks of day,
    Through the greenwood's welcome way
    Wends the wanderer, blithe and cheerly,
    To the cottage loved so dearly!
    And the eye and ear are meeting,
    Now, the slow sheep homeward bleating--
    Now, the wonted shelter near,
    Lowing the lusty-fronted steer;
    Creaking now the heavy wain,
    Reels with the happy harvest grain.
    While with many-colored leaves,
    Glitters the garland on the sheaves;
    For the mower's work is done,
    And the young folks' dance begun!
    Desert street, and quiet mart;--
    Silence is in the city's heart;
    And the social taper lighteth;
    Each dear face that home uniteth;
    While the gate the town before
    Heavily swings with sullen roar!

     Though darkness is spreading
      O'er earth--the upright
     And the honest, undreading,
      Look safe on the night--
     Which the evil man watches in awe,
     For the eye of the night is the law!
      Bliss-dowered! O daughter of the skies,
     Hail, holy order, whose employ
     Blends like to like in light and joy--
     Builder of cities, who of old
     Called the wild man from waste and wold.
     And, in his hut thy presence stealing,
     Roused each familiar household feeling;
      And, best of all the happy ties,
     The centre of the social band,--
     The instinct of the Fatherland!

   United thus--each helping each,
    Brisk work the countless hands forever;
   For naught its power to strength can teach,
    Like emulation and endeavor!
   Thus linked the master with the man,
    Each in his rights can each revere,
   And while they march in freedom's van,
    Scorn the lewd rout that dogs the rear!
   To freemen labor is renown!
    Who works--gives blessings and commands;
   Kings glory in the orb and crown--
    Be ours the glory of our hands.

   Long in these walls--long may we greet
   Your footfalls, peace and concord sweet!
   Distant the day, oh! distant far,
   When the rude hordes of trampling war
    Shall scare the silent vale;
      And where,
     Now the sweet heaven, when day doth leave
      The air,
     Limns its soft rose-hues on the veil of eve;
    Shall the fierce war-brand tossing in the gale,
   From town and hamlet shake the horrent glare!

     Now, its destined task fulfilled,
      Asunder break the prison-mould;
     Let the goodly bell we build,
      Eye and heart alike behold.
        The hammer down heave,
        Till the cover it cleave:--
   For not till we shatter the wall of its cell
   Can we lift from its darkness and bondage the bell.

    To break the mould, the master may,
     If skilled the hand and ripe the hour;
    But woe, when on its fiery way
     The metal seeks itself to pour.
    Frantic and blind, with thunder-knell,
     Exploding from its shattered home,
    And glaring forth, as from a hell,
     Behold the red destruction come!
    When rages strength that has no reason,
    There breaks the mould before the season;
    When numbers burst what bound before,
    Woe to the state that thrives no more!
    Yea, woe, when in the city's heart,
     The latent spark to flame is blown;
    And millions from their silence start,
     To claim, without a guide, their own!

    Discordant howls the warning bell,
     Proclaiming discord wide and far,
    And, born but things of peace to tell,
     Becomes the ghastliest voice of war:
    "Freedom! Equality!"--to blood
     Rush the roused people at the sound!
    Through street, hall, palace, roars the flood,
     And banded murder closes round!
    The hyena-shapes (that women were!),
     Jest with the horrors they survey;
    They hound--they rend--they mangle there--
     As panthers with their prey!
    Naught rests to hollow--burst the ties
     Of life's sublime and reverent awe;
    Before the vice the virtue flies,
     And universal crime is law!
    Man fears the lion's kingly tread;
     Man fears the tiger's fangs of terror;
    And still the dreadliest of the dread,
     Is man himself in error!
    No torch, though lit from heaven, illumes
     The blind!--Why place it in his hand?
    It lights not him--it but consumes
     The city and the land!

     Rejoice and laud the prospering skies!
      The kernel bursts its husk--behold
     From the dull clay the metal rise,
      Pure-shining, as a star of gold!
        Neck and lip, but as one beam,
        It laughs like a sunbeam.
   And even the scutcheon, clear-graven, shall tell
   That the art of a master has fashioned the bell!

   Come in--come in
    My merry men--we'll form a ring
    The new-born labor christening;
     And "Concord" we will name her!--
    To union may her heartfelt call
    In brother-love attune us all!
   May she the destined glory win
     For which the master sought to frame her--
   Aloft--(all earth's existence under),
    In blue-pavillioned heaven afar
   To dwell--the neighbor of the thunder,
    The borderer of the star!
   Be hers above a voice to rise
    Like those bright hosts in yonder sphere,
   Who, while they move, their Maker praise,
    And lead around the wreathed year!
   To solemn and eternal things
    We dedicate her lips sublime!--
   As hourly, calmly, on she swings
    Fanned by the fleeting wings of time!--
   No pulse--no heart--no feeling hers!
    She lends the warning voice to fate;
   And still companions, while she stirs,
    The changes of the human state!
   So may she teach us, as her tone
    But now so mighty, melts away--
   That earth no life which earth has known
    From the last silence can delay!

     Slowly now the cords upheave her!
      From her earth-grave soars the bell;
     Mid the airs of heaven we leave her!
      In the music-realm to dwell!
        Up--upwards yet raise--
        She has risen--she sways.
   Fair bell to our city bode joy and increase,
   And oh, may thy first sound be hallowed to peace! [47]