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Voici tout le passage, et cette suite de jeux de mots qui sont bien dans les habitudes d'esprit du temps, mais auxquels il a été impossible de trouver un équivalent en français: O, how that name befits my composition! Old Gaunt, indeed; and gaunt in being old: Within me grief hath kept a tedious fast, And who abstains from meat and is not gaunt?
So beginning, I wrought out the bedstead, and finished it utterly, and with gold enwrought it about, and with silver and ivory, and stretched on it a thong of oxhide, with the purple made bright. Thus then the sign I have shown thee; nor, woman, know I aright If my bed yet bideth steadfast, or if to another place Some man hath moved it, and smitten the olive-bole from its base.»
Oh! who can tell? save he whose heart hath tried, And danced in triumph o'er the waters wide. The exulting sense the pulse's maddening play, That thrills the wanderer of that trackless way?
There lieth a wreck on the dismal shore Of cold and pitiless Labrador; Where, under the moon, upon mounts of frost, Full many a mariner's bones are tost! You shadowy bark hath been to that wreck, And the dim blue fire, that lights her deck, Doth play on as pale and livid a crew As ever yet drank the church-yard dew!
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