在这里你会发现的PoemThe Hidden Heartof poet Roderic Quinn
AS I rode out of Lochinvar About me all the scene was fair; The skies, with not a cloud to mar, Were filled with fresh and dewy air, While making song, a merry throng, The thrushes warbled everywhere. As I rode out of Lochinvar Through Fairydom I seemed to go, For round about, and near and far, Enchanted lights began to glow; And where I went, on what intent, And who I was I did not know! For lo, I met a troubadour As I rode out of Lochinvar; His like on earth is seen no more, With feathered hat and gay guitar; And loud and clear, and sweet to hear, He sang a song of love and war. As I rode out of Lochinvar He sang a song I somehow knew, The while he touched his gay guitar; And when I asked him, 'Who are you?' 'Yourself!' he said ? and bowed his head, And vanished like the morning dew. Though I may see him nevermore, This much in very truth I ken, That one, at heart a troubadour, May seem a sober citizen, Who sets afar his gay guitar To seem just like his fellow men.
