No stir in the air, no stir in the sea,
The Ship was still as she could be;
Her sails from heaven received no motion,
Her keel was steady in the ocean.
Without either sign or sound of their shock,
The waves flow’d over the Inchcape Rock;
So little they rose, so little they fell,
They did not move the Inchcape Bell.
The Abbot of Aberbrothok
Had placed that bell on the Inchcape Rock;
On a buoy in the storm it floated and swung,
And over the waves its warning rung.
When the Rock was hid by the surge’s swell,
The Mariners heard the warning Bell;
And then they knew the perilous Rock,
And blest the Abbot of Aberbrothok
The Sun in the heaven was shining gay,
All things were joyful on that day;
The sea-birds scream’d as they wheel’d round,
And there was joyaunce in their sound.
The buoy of the Inchcpe Bell was seen
A darker speck on the ocean green;
Sir Ralph the Rover walk’d his deck,
And fix’d his eye on the darker speck.
He felt the cheering power of spring,
It made him whistle, it made him sing;
His heart was mirthful to excess,
But the Rover’s mirth was wickedness.
His eye was on the Inchcape Float;
Quoth he, “My men, put out the boat,
And row me to the Inchcape Rock,
And I’ll plague the Abbot of Aberbrothok.”
The boat is lower’d, the boatmen row,
And to the Inchcape Rock they go;
Sir Ralph bent over from the boat,
And he cut the bell from the Inchcape Float.
Down sank the Bell with a gurgling sound,
The bubbles rose and burst around;
Quoth Sir Ralph, “The next who comes to the Rock,
Won’t bless the Abbot of Aberbrothok.”
Sir ralph the Rover sail’d away,
He scour’d the seas for many a day;
And now grown rich with plunder’d store,
He steers his course for Scotland’s shore.
So thick a haze o’erspreads the sky,
They cannot see the sun on high;
The wind hath blown a gale all day,
At evening it hath died away.
On the deck the Rover takes his stand,
So dark it is they see no land.
Quoth Sir Ralph, “It will be lighter soon,
For there is the dawn of the rising Moon.”
“Canst hear,” said one, “the breakers roar?
For methinks we should be near the shore.”
“Now, where we are I cannot tell,
But I wish we could hear the Inchcape Bell.”
They hear no sound, the swell is strong,
Though the wind hath fallen they drift along;
Till the vessel strikes with a shivering shock,
“Oh Christ! It is the Inchcape Rock!”
Sir Ralph the Rover tore his hair,
He curst himself in his despair;
The waves rush in on every side,
The ship is sinking beneath the tide.
But even is his dying fear,
One dreadful sound could the Rover hear;
A sound as if with the Inchcape Bell,
The Devil below was ringing his knell.
BY BRISTOL ENGLAND IN 1802
第四册 88课. 作者: ououmama 时间: 2012-5-3 09:20
美国语文第5册，共116篇课文，其中诗歌56篇，占48.3%
第五册
LESSON 1 THE GOOD READER 朗读者
LESSON 2 THE BLUEBELL 风铃草
LESSON 3 THE GENTLE HAND 温柔的手
LESSON 4 THE GRANDFATHER 爷 爷
LESSON 5 A BOY ON A FARM 农场少年
LESSON 6 THE SINGING LESSON 唱歌课
LESSON 7 DO NOT MEDDLE 请别多管闲事
LESSON 8 WORK 劳 动
LESSON 9 THE MANIAC 疯 子
LESSON 10 ROBIN REDBREAST 知更鸟
LESSON 11 THE FISH I DIDN’T CATCH 脱钩的狗鱼
LESSON 12 IT SNOWS 下雪了
LESSON 13 RESPECT FOR THE SABBATH REWARDED 尊重安息日
LESSON 14 THE SANDS O’DEE 迪河沙滩
LESSON 15 SELECT PARAGRAPHS 《圣经》节选
LESSON 16 THE CORN SONG 玉米谣
LESSON 17 THE VENOMOUS WORM 致命的虫豸
LESSON 18 THE FESTAL BOARD 节日聚会
LESSON 19 HOW TO TELL BAD NEWS 如何告诉噩耗
LESSON 20 THE BATTLE OF BLENHEIM 布伦海姆战役
LESSON 21 “I PITY THEM” “我怜悯他们”
LESSON 22 AN ELEGY ON MADAM BLAIZE 布莱兹夫人的挽歌
LESSON 23 KING CHARLES II AND WILLIAM PENN 英王查尔斯二世与威廉 ? 佩恩先生
LESSON 24 WHAT I LIVE FOR 我为什么而活
LESSON 25 THE RIGHTEOUS NEVER FORSAKEN 公正不会缺席
LESSON 26 ABOU BEN ADHEM 阿博 ? 本 ? 艾德汉姆
LESSON 27 LUCY FORESTER 露西 ? 福斯特
LESSON 28 THE REAPER AND THE FLOWERS 花朵与死亡
LESSON 29 THE TOWN PUMP 小镇水泵
LESSON 30 GOOD NIGHT 晚 安
LESSON 31 AN OLD-FASHIONED GIRL 刻板守旧的姑娘
LESSON 32 MY MOTHER’S HANDS 妈妈的双手
LESSON 33 THE DISCONTENTED PENDULUM 不满意的钟摆
LESSON 34 THE DEATH OF THE FLOWERS 花朵的死亡
LESSON 35 THE THUNDERSTORM 暴 风 雨
LESSON 36 APRIL DAY 四月的日子
LESSON 37 THE TEA ROSE 香水月季
LESSON 38 THE CATARACT OF LODORE 洛多大瀑布
LESSON 39 THE BOBOLINK 北美食米鸟
LESSON 40 ROBERT OF LINCOLN 罗伯特 ? 林肯
LESSON 41 REBELLION IN MASSACHUSETTS STATE PRISON 马萨诸塞州的监狱叛乱
LESSON 42 FAITHLESS NELLY GRAY 无信仰的内莉 ? 盖
LESSON 43 THE GENEROUS RUSSIAN PEASANT 慷慨的俄国农民
LESSON 44 FORTY YEARS AGO 四十年前
LESSON 45 MRS. CAUDLE’S LECTURE 高德夫人的演讲
LESSON 46 THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH 乡村铁匠
LESSON 47 THE RELIEF OF LUCKNOW 勒克瑙救援
LESSON 48 THE SNOWSTORM 暴风雪
LESSON 49 BEHIND TIME 迟 到
LESSON 50 THE OLD SAMPLER 往日绣花图案
LESSON 51 THE GOODNESS OF GOD 上帝的仁爱
LESSON 52 MY MOTHER 妈 妈
LESSON 53 THE HOUR OF PRAYER 祷告时刻
LESSON 54 THE WILL 遗 嘱
LESSON 55 THE NOSE AND THE EYES 鼻子和眼睛
LESSON 56 AN ICEBERG 冰 山
LESSON 57 ABOUT QUAIL 鹌 鹑
LESSON 58 THE BLUE AND THE GRAY 蓝与灰
LESSON 59 THE MACHINIST’S RETURN 回家之路
LESSON 60 MAKE WAY FOR LIBERTY 请给自由让路
LESSON 61 THE ENGLISH SKYLARK 英国云雀
LESSON 62 HOW SLEEP THE BRAVE 勇士如何安睡
LESSON 63 THE RAINBOW 彩 虹
LESSON 64 SUPPOSED SPEECH OF JOHN ADAMS 约翰 ? 亚当斯的假设演讲
LESSON 65 THE RISING 呐喊震天
LESSON 66 CONTROL YOUR TEMPER 请君制怒
LESSON 67 WILLIAM TELL 威廉 ? 泰尔
LESSON 68 WILLIAM TELL 威廉 ? 泰尔（结束篇）
LESSON 69 THE CRAZY ENGINEER 癫狂的火车司机
LESSON 70 THE HERITAGE 遗 产
LESSON 71 NO EXCELLENCE WITHOUT LABOR 不经风雨，怎见彩虹
LESSON 72 THE OLD HOUSE CLOCK 老 钟
LESSON 73 THE EXAMINATION 考 试
LESSON 74 THE ISLE OF LONG AGO 很久以前的小岛
LESSON 75 THE BOSTON MASSACRE 波士顿惨案
LESSON 76 DEATH OF THE BEAUTIFUL 美丽的死亡
LESSON 77 SNOW FALLING 雪 落
LESSON 78 SQUEERS’S METHOD 斯格威尔的手段
LESSON 79 THE GIFT OF EMPTY HANDS 两手空空的礼物
LESSON 80 CAPTURING THE WILD HORSE 捕捉野马
LESSON 81 SOWING AND REAPING 播种与收获
LESSON 82 TAKING COMFORT 自我解脱
LESSON 83 CALLING THE ROLL 点 名
LESSON 84 TURTLE SOUP 龟煲汤
LESSON 85 THE BEST KIND OF REVENGE 最好的复仇
LESSON 86 THE SOLDIER OF THE RHINE 莱茵河畔的士兵
LESSON 87 THE WINGED WORSHIPERS 天 使
LESSON 88 THE PEEVISH WIFE 暴躁易怒的妻子
LESSON 89 THE RAINY DAY 雨 天
LESSON 90 BREAK, BREAK, BREAK 万马千钧
LESSON 91 TRANSPORTATION AND PLANTING OF SEEDS 种子的传播与种植
LESSON 92 SPRING AGAIN 又见春天
LESSON 93 RELIGION THE ONLY BASIS OF SOCIETY 宗教——社会的唯一基石
LESSON 94 ROCK ME TO SLEEP 在摇篮中安睡
LESSON 95 MAN AND THE INFERIOR ANIMALS 人类与动物
LESSON 96 THE BLIND MEN AND THE ELEPHANT 盲人摸象
LESSON 97 A HOME SCENE 家庭场景
LESSON 98 THE LIGHT OF OTHER DAYS 昔日的光辉
LESSON 99 A CHASE IN THE ENGLISH CHANNEL 英吉利海峡追逐战
LESSON 100 BURIAL OF SIR JOHN MOORE 约翰 ? 摩尔先生的葬礼
LESSON 101 LITTLE VICTORIES 微小的胜利
LESSON 102 THE CHARACTER OF A HAPPY LIFE 幸福生活的特点
LESSON 103 THE ART OF DISCOURAGEMENT 泼冷水的艺术
LESSON 104 THE MARINER’S DREAM 水手的梦
LESSON 105 THE PASSENGER PIGEON 野鸽过客
LESSON 106 THE COUNTRY LIFE 乡村生活
LESSON 107 THE VIRGINIANS 弗吉尼亚人
LESSON 108 MINOT’S LEDGE 迈诺特的利奇
LESSON 109 HAMLET 哈姆雷特
LESSON 110 DISSERTATION ON ROAST PIG 论烤猪
LESSON 111 A PEN PICTURE 北极光
LESSON 112 THE GREAT VOICES 伟大的声音
LESSON 113 A PICTURE OF HUMAN LIFE 人生如画
LESSON 114 A SUMMER LONGING 夏天的渴望
LESSON 115 FATE 命 运
LESSON 116 THE BIBLE THE BEST OF CLASSICS 《圣经》——最好的经典
LESSON 117 MY MOTHER’S BIBLE 妈妈的《圣经》
美国语文第6册，共138篇课文，诗歌55篇，占39.9%。尚不计莎士比亚戏剧中的美妙诗文。
第六册
LESSON 1 ANECDOTE OF THE DUKE OF NEWCASTLE 纽卡斯尔公爵趣事 1
LESSON 2 THE NEEDLE 银 针
LESSON 3 DAWN 黎 明
LESSON 4 DESCRIPTION OF A STORM 风 暴
LESSON 5 AFTER THE THUNDERSTORM 暴雨过后
LESSON 6 HOUSE CLEANING 大扫除
LESSON 7 SCHEMES OF LIFE OFTEN ILLUSORY 生活中通常貌似真实的计划
LESSON 8 THE BRAVE OLD OAK 勇敢的老橡树
LESSON 9 THE ARTIST SURPRISED 受惊的艺术家
LESSON 10 PICTURES OF MEMORY 记忆中的画
LESSON 11 THE MORNING ORATORIO 早晨的清唱剧
LESSON 12 SHORT SELECTIONS IN POETRY 诗歌采英
LESSON 13 DEATH OF LITTLE NELL 耐儿之死
LESSON 14 VANITY OF LIFE 生命之虚妄
LESSON 15 A POLITICAL PAUSE 一场政治暂停
LESSON 16 MY EXPERIENCE IN ELOCUTION 我的演说经历
LESSON 17 ELEGY IN A COUNTRY CHURCHYARD 墓地挽歌
LESSON 18 TACT AND TALENT 机智和才能
LESSON 19 SPEECH BEFORE THE VIRGINIA CONVENTION 在弗吉尼亚制宪大会上的演讲
LESSON 20 THE AMERICAN FLAG 国旗颂
LESSON 21 IRONICAL EULOGY ON DEBT 第二十一课 欠债讽诵
LESSON 22 THE THREE WARNINGS 三个警告
LESSON 23 THE MEMORY OF OUR FATHERS 怀念先辈
LESSON 24 SHORT SELECTIONS IN PROSE 散文选篇
LESSON 25 THE JOLLY OLD PEDAGOGUE 快活的老先生
LESSON 26 THE TEACHER AND SICK SCHOLAR 教师和生病的学者
LESSON 27 THE SNOW SHOWER 洁白的雪
LESSON 28 CHARACTER OF NAPOLEON BONAPARTE 拿破仑?波拿巴的性格
LESSON 29 NAPOLEON AT REST 躺下的拿破仑
LESSON 30 WAR 战 争
LESSON 31 SPEECH OF WALPOLE IN REPROOF OF MR. PITT 沃尔浦尔反驳皮特先生的演讲
LESSON 32 PITT’S REPLY TO SIR ROBERT WALPOLE 皮特对罗伯特?沃尔浦尔爵士的答复
LESSON 33 CHARACTER OF MR. PITT 皮特先生的品格
LESSON 34 THE SOLDIER’S REST 士兵的休息
LESSON 35 HENRY V. TO HIS TROOPS 亨利五世致部队士兵
LESSON 36 SPEECH OF PAUL ON MARS HILL 保罗在玛斯山上的演讲
LESSON 37 GOD IS EVERYWHERE 上帝无处不在
LESSON 38 LAFAYETTE AND ROBERT RAIKES 拉法耶特和罗伯特?莱克斯
LESSON 39 FALL OF CARDINAL WOLSEY 伍尔西大主教的垮台
LESSON 40 THE PHILOSOPHER 哲学家
LESSON 41 MARMION AND DOUGLAS 马米恩和道格拉斯
LESSON 42 THE PRESENT 今 朝
LESSON 43 THE BAPTISM 洗 礼
LESSON 44 SPARROWS 麻 雀
LESSON 45 OBSERVANCE OF THE SABBATH 守安息日
LESSON 46 GOD’S GOODNESS TO SUCH AS FEAR HIM 上帝的善就是心怀敬畏
LESSON 47 CHARACTER OF COLUMBUS 哥伦布的性格
LESSON 48 “HE GIVETH HIS BELOVED SLEEP” 他让自己的最爱安眠
LESSON 49 DESCRIPTION OF A SIEGE 对被围困的描写
LESSON 50 MARCO BOZZARIS 马尔科?博萨里斯
LESSON 51 SONG OF THE GREEK BARD 希腊游吟诗人之歌
LESSON 52 NORTH AMERICAN INDIANS 北美印第安人
LESSON 53 LOCHIEL’S WARNING 洛切尔的警告
LESSON 54 ON HAPPINESS OF TEMPER 论幸福感
LESSON 55 THE FORTUNE TELLER 占卜者
LESSON 56 RIENZI’S ADDRESS TO THE ROMANS 里恩齐对罗马人的演说
LESSON 57 THE PURITAN FATHERS OF NEW ENGLAND 新英格兰清教徒先辈的品格
LESSON 58 LANDING OF THE PILGRIM FATHERS 朝圣先辈登岸
LESSON 59 NECESSITY OF EDUCATION 教育的必要性
LESSON 60 RIDING ON A SNOWPLOW 乘坐扫雪机
LESSON 61 THE QUARREL OF BRUTUS AND CASSIUS 布鲁图和凯西尤的争吵
LESSON 62 THE QUACK 江湖庸医
LESSON 63 RIP VAN WINKLE 瑞普 凡 温克尔
LESSON 64 BILL AND JOE 比尔和乔
LESSON 65 SORROW FOR THE DEAD 为死者悲
LESSON 66 THE EAGLE 鹰之歌
LESSON 67 POLITICAL TOLERATION 政治信仰自由
LESSON 68 WHAT CONSTITUTES A STATE? 国家的构成
LESSON 69 THE BRAVE AT HOME 家里的勇敢者
LESSON 70 SOUTH CAROLINA 南卡罗来纳州
LESSON 71 MASSACHUSETTS AND SOUTH CAROLINA 马萨诸塞人和南卡罗来纳
LESSON 72 THE CHURCH SCENE FROM EVANGELINE 伊万杰琳眼中的教堂景象
LESSON 73 SONG OF THE SHIRT 衬衫之歌
LESSON 74 DIAMOND CUT DIAMOND 砖石切砖石
LESSON 75 THANATOPSIS 对死亡的见解
LESSON 76 INDIAN JUGGLERS 印第安耍把戏者
LESSON 77 ANTONY OVER CAESAR’S DEAD BODY 安东尼站在恺撒尸体前
LESSON 78 THE ENGLISH CHARACTER 英国人的性格
LESSON 79 THE SONG OF THE POTTER 陶工之歌
LESSON 80 A HOT DAY IN NEW YORK 纽约一个大热天
LESSON 81 DISCONTENT.(AN ALLEGORY) 不 满
LESSON 82 JUPITER AND TEN 朱庇特和十个
LESSON 83 SCENE FROM “THE POOR GENTLEMAN” 穷绅士
LESSON 84 MY MOTHER’S PICTURE 我妈妈的画像
LESSON 85 DEATH OF SAMSON 萨姆逊之死
LESSON 86 AN EVENING ADVENTURE 夜间奇遇
LESSON 87 THE BAREFOOT BOY 赤脚的孩子
LESSON 88 THE GLOVE AND THE LIONS 手套和猛狮
LESSON 89 THE FOLLY OF INTOXICATION 愚人的陶醉
LESSON 90 STARVED ROCK 饥饿的岩石
LESSON 91 PRINCE HENRY AND FALSTAFF 亨利王子和福尔斯塔夫
LESSON 92 STUDIES 论学问
LESSON 93 SURRENDER OF GRANADA 格兰纳达的投降
LESSON 94 HAMLET’S SOLILOQUY 哈姆雷特的独白
LESSON 95 GINEVRA 吉内乌拉
LESSON 96 INVENTIONS AND DISCOVERIES 发明与发现
LESSON 97 ENOCH ARDEN AT THE WINDOW 窗前的伊诺克 艾登
LESSON 98 LOCHINVAR 罗钦瓦尔
LESSON 99 SPEECH ON THE TRIAL OF A MURDERER 关于审判杀人凶手的演讲
LESSON 100 THE CLOSING YEAR 一年即逝
LESSON 101 A NEW CITY IN COLORADO 科罗拉多的新城
LESSON 102 IMPORTANCE OF THE UNION 联邦的重要性
LESSON 103 THE INFLUENCES OF THE SUN 日光的影响
LESSON 104 COLLOQUIAL POWERS OF FRANKLIN 富兰克林的话语感染力
LESSON 105 THE DREAM OF CLARENCE 克拉伦斯的梦
LESSON 106 HOMEWARD BOUND 向家的方向航行
LESSON 107 IMPEACHMENT OF WARREN HASTINGS 控告沃伦?哈斯廷斯
LESSON 108 DESTRUCTION OF THE CARNATIC 卡那提克的毁灭
LESSON 109 THE RAVEN 乌 鸦
LESSON 110 A VIEW OF THE COLOSSEUM 角斗场印象记
LESSON 111 THE BRIDGE 桥
LESSON 112 OBJECTS AND LIMITS OF SCIENCE 科学的目标和局限
LESSON 113 THE DOWNFALL OF POLAND 波兰的陷落
LESSON 114 LABOR 做 工
LESSON 115 THE LAST DAYS OF HERCULANEUM 赫库兰尼姆的最后日子
LESSON 116 HOW MEN REASON 人是如何推理的
LESSON 117 THUNDERSTORM ON THE ALPS 阿尔卑斯山的暴风雨
LESSON 118 ORIGIN OF PROPERTY 财产的起源
LESSON 119 BATTLE OF WATERLOO 滑铁卢之战
LESSON 120 “WITH BRAINS, SIR” “要用脑子，先生”
LESSON 121 THE NEW ENGLAND PASTOR 新英格兰牧师
LESSON 122 DEATH OF ABSALOM 押沙龙之死
LESSON 123 ABRAHAM DAVENPORT 亚伯拉罕?达文波特
LESSON 124 THE FALLS OF THE YOSEMITE 约斯迈特瀑布
LESSON 125 A PSALM OF LIFE 生活赞美诗
LESSON 126 FRANKLIN’S ENTRY INTO PHILADELPHIA 富兰克林进入费城
LESSON 127 LINES TO A WATERFOWL 对水禽的描绘
LESSON 128 GOLDSMITH AND ADDISON 歌德斯密和艾迪生
LESSON 129 IMMORTALITY OF THE SOUL 灵魂的不朽
LESSON 130 CHARACTER OF WASHINGTON 华盛顿的性格
LESSON 131 EULOGY ON WASHINGTON 颂华盛顿
LESSON 132 THE SOLITARY REAPER 孤独的割麦女
LESSON 133 VALUE OF THE PRESENT 现在的价值
LESSON 134 HAPPINESS 幸 福
LESSON 135 MARION 马里恩
LESSON 136 A COMMON THOUGHT 共同的想法
LESSON 137 A DEFINITE AIM IN READING 确定阅读目标
LESSON 138 ODE TO MT. BLANC 咏白朗峰
美国语文第4册，共90篇，其中诗歌共33篇，占36.7%
第四册
LESSON 1 PERSEVERANCE 坚持不懈
LESSON 2 TRY, TRY AGAIN 试一次，再试一次
LESSON 3 WHY THE SEA IS SALT 海水为什么是咸的
LESSON 4 WHY THE SEA IS SALT（CONCLUDED） 海水为什么是咸的（结束篇）
LESSON 5 POPPING CORN 爆米花
LESSON 6 SMILES 微 笑
LESSON 7 LAZY NED 懒人奈德
LESSON 8 THE MONKEY 猴 子
LESSON 9 MEDDLESOME MATTY 爱捣乱的玛蒂
LESSON 10 THE GOOD SON 好孩子
LESSON 11 TOMORROW 明 天
LESSON 12 WHERE THERE IS A WILL THERE IS A WAY 有志者事竟成
LESSON 13 PICCOLA 皮克拉
LESSON 14 TRUE MANLINESS 真正的男子汉
LESSON 15 TRUE MANLINESS（CONCLUDED） 真正的男子汉（结束篇）
LESSON 16 THE BROWN THRUSH 棕色画眉鸟
LESSON 17 A SHIP IN A STORM 暴风雨中的船
LESSON 18 THE SAILOR’S CONSOLATION 水手的慰藉
LESSON 19 TWO WAYS OF TELLING A STORY 两种方式讲述同一个故事
LESSON 20 FREAKS OF THE FROST 霜之奇想
LESSON 21 WASTE NOT, WANT NOT 不浪费，不愁缺
LESSON 22 JEANNETTE AND JO 珍妮特和乔
LESSON 23 THE LION 狮 子
LESSON 24 STRAWBERRIES 草 莓
LESSON 25 HARRY’S RICHES 哈里的财富
LESSON 26 IN TIME’S SWING 在时间的秋千上
LESSON 27 HARRY AND HIS DOG 哈利与他的狗
LESSON 28 THE VOICE OF THE GRASS 小草之声
LESSON 29 THE EAGLE 鹰
LESSON 30 THE OLD EAGLE TREE 老鹰树
LESSON 31 ALPINE SONG 阿尔卑斯之歌
LESSON 32 CIRCUMSTANCES ALTER CASES 环境不同，处理各异
LESSON 33 THE NOBLEST REVENGE 最高尚的复仇
LESSON 34 EVENING HYMN 夜晚圣歌
LESSON 35 HOW MARGERY WONDERED 好奇的玛芝莉
LESSON 36 THE CHILD’S WORLD 孩子的世界
LESSON 37 SUSIE’S COMPOSITION 苏西的作文
LESSON 38 THE SUMMER SHOWER 夏季的雨
LESSON 39 CONSEQUENCES OF IDLENESS 懒惰的后果
LESSON 40 ADVANTAGES OF INDUSTRY 勤奋的益处
LESSON 41 THE FOUNTAIN 喷 泉
LESSON 42 COFFEE 咖 啡
LESSON 43 THE WINTER KING 冬天之王
LESSON 44 THE NETTLE 荨 麻
LESSON 45 THE TEMPEST 暴风雨
LESSON 46 THE CREATOR 造物主
LESSON 47 THE HORSE 马
LESSON 48 EMULATION 竞 争
LESSON 49 THE SANDPIPER 矶 鹞
LESSON 50 THE RIGHT WAY 正确的方式
LESSON 51 THE GOLDEN RULE 黄金法则
LESSON 52 THE SNOW MAN 雪 人
LESSON 53 ROBINSON CRUSOE’S HOUSE 鲁滨逊?克鲁索的住所
LESSON 54 ROBINSON CRUSOE’S DRESS 鲁滨逊?克鲁索的衣服
LESSON 55 SOMEBODY’S DARLING 谁的亲人沉睡在这里
LESSON 56 KNOWLEDGE IS POWER 知识的力量
LESSON 57 GOOD WILL 善 意
LESSON 58 A CHINESE STORY 中国故事一则
LESSON 59 THE WAY TO BE HAPPY 幸福之道
LESSON 60 THE GIRAFFE 长颈鹿
LESSON 61 THE LOST CHILD 失踪的孩子
LESSON 62 WHICH? 把哪个送人
LESSON 63 THE PET FAWN 小宠物鹿
LESSON 64 ANNIE’S DREAM 安妮的梦
LESSON 65 MY GHOST 我见到的鬼
LESSON 66 THE ELEPHANT 大 象
LESSON 67 DARE TO DO RIGHT 道德勇气
LESSON 68 DARE TO DO RIGHT（CONCLUDED） 道德勇气（结束篇）
LESSON 69 THE WRECK OF THE HESPERUS 赫斯珀洛斯号的残骸
LESSON 70 ANECDOTES OF BIRDS 鸟类趣闻
LESSON 71 THE RAINBOW PILGRIMAGE 彩虹之旅
LESSON 72 THE OLD OAKEN BUCKET 旧橡木桶
LESSON 73 THE SERMON ON THE MOUNT 登山宝训
LESSON 74 THE YOUNG WITNESS 小证人
LESSON 75 KING SOLOMON AND THE ANTS 所罗门王和蚂蚁
LESSON 76 RIVERMOUTH THEATER 河口剧场
LESSON 77 ALFRED THE GREAT 阿尔弗雷德大帝
LESSON 78 LIVING ON A FARM 农场生活
LESSON 79 HUGH IDLE AND MR. TOIL 休?伊德和特劳先生
LESSON 80 HUGH IDLE AND MR. TOIL（CONCLUDED） 休 伊德和特劳先生（结束篇）
LESSON 81 BURNING THE FALLOW 火 警
LESSON 82 THE DYING SOLDIERS 垂死的士兵
LESSON 83 THE ATTACK ON NYMWEGEN 袭击纳梅亨
LESSON 84 THE SEASONS 四 季
LESSON 85 BRANDYWINE FORD 白兰地酒河浅滩
LESSON 86 BRANDYWINE FORD（CNCLUDED） 白兰地酒河浅滩（结束篇）
LESSON 87 THE BEST CAPITAL 最好的资本
LESSON 88 THE INCHCAPE ROCK 印奇开普暗礁
LESSON 89 MY MOTHER’S GRAVE 母亲的坟墓
LESSON 90 A MOTHER’S GIFT—THE BIBLE 母亲的礼物——《圣经》
美国语文第3册，共79篇，其中诗歌共30篇，占38%
第三册
LESSON 1 THE SHEPHERD BOY 牧 童
LESSON 2 JOHNNY’S FIRST SNOWSTORM 乔尼初次见雪
LESSON 3 LET IT RAIN 下雨吧
LESSON 4 CASTLE-BUILDING 建造城堡
LESSON 5 CASTLE-BUILDING(CONCLUDED)
建造城堡（结束篇）
LESSON 6 LEND A HAND 伸出一只手
LESSON 7 THE TRUANT 逃 学
LESSON 8 THE WHITE KITTEN 小白猫
LESSON 9 THE BEAVER 海 狸
LESSON 10 THE YOUNG TEACHER 小老师
LESSON 11 THE BLACKSMITH 铁 匠
LESSON 12 A WALK IN THE GARDEN 园中漫步
LESSON 13 THE WOLF 狼来了
LESSON 14 THE LITTLE BIRD’S SONG
LESSON 15 HARRY AND ANNIE 哈利和安妮
LESSON 16 BIRD FRIENDS 鸟类的朋友
LESSON 17 WHAT THE MINUTES SAY 分针之语
LESSON 18 THE WIDOW AND THE MERCHANT 寡妇和商人
LESSON 19 THE BIRDS SET FREE 小鸟自由了
LESSON 20 A MOMENT TOO LATE 为时已晚
LESSON 21 HUMMING BIRDS 蜂 鸟
LESSON 22 THE WIND AND THE SUN 风和太阳
LESSON 23 SUNSET 日 落
LESSON 24 BEAUTIFUL HANDS 美丽的手
LESSON 25 THINGS TO REMEMBER 应牢记之事
LESSON 26 THREE LITTLE MICE 三只小老鼠
LESSON 27 THE NEW YEAR 新 年
LESSON 28 THE CLOCK AND THE SUNDIAL 时钟与日晷
LESSON 29 REMEMBER 记 住
LESSON 30 COURAGE AND COWARDICE 勇敢与懦弱
LESSON 31 WEIGHING AN ELEPHANT 称 象
LESSON 32 THE SOLDIER 战 士
LESSON 33 THE ECHO 回 声
LESSON 34 GEORGE’S FEAST 乔治的美餐
LESSON 35 THE LORD’S PRAYER 主祷文
LESSON 36 FINDING THE OWNER 寻找失主
LESSON 37 BATS 蝙 蝠
LESSON 38 A SUMMER DAY 夏 日
LESSON 39 I WILL THINK OF IT 我要想一想
LESSON 40 CHARLIE AND ROB 查理和罗伯
LESSON 41 RAY AND HIS KITE 芮和他的风筝
LESSON 42 BEWARE OF THE FIRST DRINK 谨防第一次饮酒
LESSON 43 SPEAK GENTLY 请轻声说话
LESSON 44 THE SEVEN STICKS 七根棍子
LESSON 45 THE MOUNTAIN SISTER 山妹子
LESSON 46 HARRY AND THE GUIDEPOST 哈里和路牌
LESSON 47 THE MONEY AMY DID NOT EARN 艾米没有赚到的钱
LESSON 48 WHO MADE THE STARS 星星是谁造的
LESSON 49 DEEDS OF KINDNESS 善 举
LESSON 50 THE ALARM CLOCK 闹 钟
LESSON 51 SPRING 春
LESSON 52 TRUE COURAGE 真正的勇气
LESSON 53 THE OLD CLOCK 老时钟
LESSON 54 THE WAVES 海 浪
LESSON 55 DON’T KILL THE BIRDS 不要杀害鸟类
LESSON 56 WHEN TO SAY NO 什么时候说不
LESSON 57 WHICH LOVED BEST 谁最爱
LESSON 58 JOHN CARPENTER 约翰 卡朋特
LESSON 59 PERSEVERE 持之以恒
LESSON 60 THE CONTENTED BOY 知足的男孩
LESSON 61 LITTLE GUSTAVA 小古斯塔瓦
LESSON 62 THE INSOLENT BOY 无礼的男孩
LESSON 63 WE ARE SEVEN 我们是七个
LESSON 64 MARY’S DIME 玛丽的硬币
LESSON 65 MARY DOW 玛丽 道
LESSON 66 THE LITTLE LOAF 小块面包
LESSON 67 SUSIE AND ROVER 苏茜与罗孚
LESSON 68 THE VIOLET 紫罗兰
LESSON 69 NO CROWN FOR ME 不要给我花冠
LESSON 70 YOUNG SOLDIERS 小战士
LESSON 71 HOW WILLIE GOT OUT OF THE SHAFT 威利是怎样逃出枯井的
LESSON 72 THE PERT CHICKEN 无礼的小公鸡
LESSON 73 INDIAN CORN 印第安玉米
LESSON 74 THE SNOWBIRD’S SONG 雪鸟之歌
LESSON 75 MOUNTAINS 高 山
LESSON 76 A CHILD’S HYMN 儿童赞美诗
LESSON 77 HOLDING THE FORT 守住堡垒
LESSON 78 THE LITTLE PEOPLE 小人儿
LESSON 79 GOOD NIGHT 晚 安
美国语文第2册，共71篇，其中诗歌共24篇，占33.8%
第二册
LESSON 1 EVENING AT HOME 家人团聚的夜晚
LESSON 2 BUBBLES 吹泡泡
LESSON 3 WILLIE’S LETTER 威利的信
LESSON 4 THE LITTLE STAR 小 星 星
LESSON 5 TWO DOGS 两条狗
LESSON 6 AFRAID IN THE DARK 害怕黑暗
LESSON 7 BABY BYE 宝贝再见
LESSON 8 PUSS AND HER KITTENS 猫和小猫
LESSON 9 KITTY AND MOUSIE 猫和老鼠
LESSON 10 AT WORK 专心做事
LESSON 11 WHAT A BIRD TAUGHT 小鸟说什么
LESSON 12 SUSIE SUNBEAM 阳光女孩
LESSON 13 IF I WERE A SUNBEAM 如果我是阳光
LESSON 14 HENRY, THE BOOTBLACK 擦鞋童亨利
LESSON 15 DON’T WAKE THE BABY 不要唤醒宝贝
LESSON 16 A KIND BROTHER 善良的哥哥
LESSON 17 MY GOOD-FOR-NOTHING 我什么都做不了
LESSON 18 THE KINGBIRD 必胜鸟
LESSON 19 EVENING HYMN 黄昏赞歌
LESSON 20 THE QUARREL 争 吵
LESSON 21 THE BEE 蜜 蜂
LESSON 22 THE SONG OF THE BEE 蜜蜂之歌
LESSON 23 THE TORN DOLL 撕破的娃娃
LESSON 24 SHEEP-SHEARING 剪羊毛
LESSON 25 THE CLOUDS 云
LESSON 26 PATTY AND THE SQUIRREL 帕蒂和松鼠
LESSON 27 THE SPARROW 麻 雀
LESSON 28 SAM AND HARRY 山姆与哈里
LESSON 29 THE LITTLE RILL 小 溪
LESSON 30 THE BOAT UPSET 翻 船
LESSON 31 MARY’S LETTER 玛丽的信
LESSON 32 THE TIGER 老 虎
LESSON 33 THE FIRESIDE 火炉旁
LESSON 34 BIRDIE’S MORNING SONG 小鸟的晨歌
LESSON 35 WILLIE AND BOUNCE 威利和鲍恩斯
LESSON 36 WILLIE AND BOUNCE(Concluded)
威利和鲍恩斯（结束篇）
LESSON 37 THE KITCHEN CLOCK 厨房里的钟
LESSON 38 THE NEW SCALES 新 秤
LESSON 39 THE BEAR AND THE CHILDREN 狗熊和孩子们
LESSON 40 THE LITTLE HAREBELL 小蓝铃花
LESSON 41 THE FISHHAWK 鹗
LESSON 42 WHAT THE LEAF SAID 树叶说什么
LESSON 43 THE WIND AND THE LEAVES 风儿和树叶
LESSON 44 MAMMA’S PRESENT 妈妈的礼物
LESSON 45 MARY’S STORY 玛丽的故事
LESSON 46 RALPH WICK 拉尔夫 维克
LESSON 47 COASTING DOWN THE HILL 滑下山坡
LESSON 48 THE FOX AND THE DUCKS 狐狸和鸭子
LESSON 49 PRETTY IS THAT PRETTY DOES 不要以貌取人
LESSON 50 THE STORY-TELLER 讲故事者
LESSON 51 THE STORY TELLER(Concluded)
讲故事者（结束篇）
LESSON 52 THE OWL 猫头鹰
LESSON 53 THE OWL(Concluded) 猫头鹰（结束篇）
LESSON 54 GRANDFATHER’S STORY 爷爷的故事
LESSON 55 GOD IS GREAT AND GOOD 上帝伟大而仁爱
LESSON 56 A GOOD OLD MAN 善良的老人
LESSON 57 THE GREEDY GIRL 贪吃的小女孩
LESSON 58 A PLACE FOR EVERYTHING 物归原处
LESSON 59 MY MOTHER 我的妈妈
LESSON 60 THE BROKEN WINDOW 打破的窗户
LESSON 61 THE BROKEN WINDOW(Concluded) 打破的窗户（结束篇）
LESSON 62 FRANK AND THE HOURGLASS 弗兰克和时漏
LESSON 63 MARCH 三 月
LESSON 64 JENNY’S CALL 詹妮的召唤
LESSON 65 POOR DAVY 可怜的大卫
LESSON 66 ALICE’S SUPPER 爱丽丝的晚餐
LESSON 67 A SNOWSTORM 一场暴风雪
LESSON 68 BESSIE 贝 希
LESSON 69 BESSIE(Concluded) 贝 希（结束篇）
LESSON 70 CHEERFULNESS 欢 乐
LESSON 71 LULLABY 摇篮曲
by T. H. Palmer
‘Tis a lesson you should heed,
If at first you don’t succeed,
Try, try again;
Then your courage should appear,
For if you will persevere,
You will conquer, never fear
Try, try again.
Once or twice, though you should fail,
Try, try again;
If you would at last prevail,
Try, try again;
If we strive, 'tis no disgrace
Though we do not win the race;
What should you do in the case?
Try, try again
If you find your task is hard,
Time will bring you your reward,
Try, try again
All that other folks can do,
Why, with patience, should not you?
Only keep this rule in view:
Try, try again.
1. SPRING.
H. G. Adams, an English writer, has compiled two volumes of poetical quotations, and is the author of several volumes of original poems. The following is from the "Story of the Seasons."
A bursting into greenness;
A waking as from sleep;
A twitter and a warble
That make the pulses leap:
A watching, as in childhood,
For the flowers that, one by one,
Open their golden petals
To woo the fitful sun.
A gust, a flash, a gurgle,
A wish to shout and sing,
As, filled with hope and gladness,
We hail the vernal Spring.
II. SUMMER.
Now is the high tide of the year,
And whatever of life hath ebbed away
Comes flooding back with a ripply cheer,
Into every bare inlet and creek and bay.
We may shut our eyes, but we can not help knowing
That skies are clear and grass is growing;
The breeze comes whispering in our ear,
That dandelions are blossoming near,
That maize has sprouted, that streams are flowing,
That the river is bluer than the sky,
That the robin is plastering his house hard by;
And if the breeze kept the good news back
For other couriers we should not lack;
We could guess it all by yon heifer's lowing,--
¬And hark! how clear bold chanticleer,
Warmed with the new wine of the year,
Tells all in his lusty crowing.
--Lowell.
III. AUTUMN.
Thomas Hood, author of the following selection, was born in 1798, at London, where he was editor of the "London Magazine," and died in 1845. He is best known as a humorist, but some of his poems are full of tender feeling.
The autumn is old;
The sear leaves are flying;
He hath gathered up gold
And now he is dying:
Old age, begin sighing!
The year's in the wane;
There is nothing adorning;
The night has no eve,
And the day has no morning;
Cold winter gives warning.
IV. WINTER.
Charles T. Brooks translated the following selection from the original by the German poet, Ludwig Holty. Mr. Brooks was born at Salem, Mass., in 1813. After graduation at Harvard he entered the ministry. He trans¬lated much from the German, both of poetry and prose. He died in 1883.
Now no plumed throng
Charms the wood with song;
Icebound trees are glittering;
Merry snowbirds, twittering,
Fondly strive to cheer
Scenes so cold and drear.
Winter, still I see
Many charms in thee,
¬Love thy chilly greeting,
Snowstorms fiercely beating,
And the dear delights
Of the long, long nights.
1. "Great, wide, beautiful, wonderful world,
With the wonderful water round you curled,
And the wonderful grass upon your breast,--
¬World, you are beautifully drest."
2. "The wonderful air is over me,
And the wonderful wind is shaking the tree;
It walks on the water, and whirls the mills,
And talks to itself on the tops of the hills."
104 ECLECTIC SERIES.
3. "You friendly Earth! how far do you go
With the wheat fields that nod, and the
rivers that flow;
With cities and gardens, and cliffs and isles,
And people upon you for thousands of miles?"
4. "Ah, you are so great, and I am so small,
I tremble to think of you, World, at all:
And yet, when I said my prayers, to-day,
A whisper inside me seemed to say,
You are more than the Earth, though
you are such a dot:
You can love and think, and the Earth
can not!'". 作者: ououmama 时间: 2012-5-4 12:02 标题: 第4册 31课 阿尔卑斯之歌 ALPINE SONG
ALPINE SONG.
William W. Story, the author, was born in Salem, Mass., In 1819. His writings in poetry and prose are well known, and he also gained distinction in his profession as a sculptor. He died in 1895.
1. With alpenstock and knapsack light,
I wander o'er hill and valley;
I climb the snow peak's flashing height,
And sleep in the sheltered chalet,--
Free in heart--happy and free--
This is the summer life for me.
2. The city's dust I leave behind
For the keen, sweet air of the mountain,
The grassy path by the wild rose lined,
The gush of the living fountain,--
Free in heart--happy and free--
This is the summer life for me.
3. High above me snow clouds rise,
In the early morning gleaming;
And the patterned valley beneath me lies
Softly in sunshine dreaming,--
Free in heart--happy and free--
This is the summer life for me.
4. The bells of wandering herds I list,
Chiming in upland meadows;
How sweet they sound, as I lie at rest
Under the dark pine shadows¬--
Glad in heart--happy and free--
This is the summer life for me.. 作者: ououmama 时间: 2012-5-4 12:11 标题: 第四册第26课 在时间的秋千上IN TIME'S SWING.
IN TIME'S SWING.
By Lucy Larcom.
1. Father Time, your footsteps go
Lightly as the falling snow.
In your swing I'm sitting, see!
Push me softly; one, two; three,
Twelve times only. Like a sheet,
Spread the snow beneath my feet.
Singing merrily, let me swing
Out of winter into spring.
2. Swing me out, and swing me in!
Trees are bare, but birds begin
Twittering to the peeping leaves,
On the bough beneath the eaves.
Wait,--one lilac bud I saw.
Icy hillsides feel the thaw.
April chased off March to-day;
Now I catch a glimpse of May.
3. Oh, the smell of sprouting grass!
In a blur the violets pass.
Whispering from the wildwood come
Mayflower's breath and insect's hum.
Roses carpeting the ground;
Thrushes, orioles, warbling sound:¬--
Swing me low, and swing me high,
To the warm clouds of July.
4. Slower now, for at my side
White pond lilies open wide.
Underneath the pine's tall spire
Cardinal blossoms burn like fire.
They are gone; the golden-rod
Flashes from the dark green sod.
Crickets in the grass I hear;
Asters light the fading year.
5. Slower still! October weaves
Rainbows of the forest leaves.
Gentians fringed, like eyes of blue,
Glimmer out of sleety dew.
Meadow green I sadly miss:
Winds through withered sedges hiss.
Oh, 't is snowing, swing me fast,
While December shivers past!
6. Frosty-bearded Father Time,
Stop your footfall on the rime!
Hard you push, your hand is rough;
You have swung me long enough.
"Nay, no stopping," say you? Well,
Some of your best stories tell,
While you swing me--gently, do!--
From the Old Year to the New.
Lucy Larcom. 作者: ououmama 时间: 2012-5-4 12:12 标题: 第四册 72课 旧橡木桶 THE OLD OAKEN BUCKET
LXXII. THE OLD OAKEN BUCKET.
By Samuel Woodworth, who was born in Massachusetts in 1785. He was both author and editor. This is his best known poem. He died in 1842.
1. How dear to this heart are the scenes of my childhood,
When fond recollection presents them to view!
The orchard, the meadow, the deep tangled wildwood,
And every loved spot which my infancy knew;
The wide-spreading pond, and the mill that stood by it:
The bridge and the rock where the cataract fell:
The cot of my father, the dairy house nigh it,
And e'en the rude bucket which hung in the well:
The old oaken bucket, the ironbound bucket,
The moss-covered bucket which hung in the well.
2. That moss-covered vessel I hail as a treasure;
For often, at noon, when returned from the field,
I found it the source of an exquisite pleasure,
The purest and sweetest that nature can yield.
How ardent I seized it, with hands that were glowing,
And quick to the white-pebble bottom it fell;
Then soon, with the emblem of truth overflowing,
And dripping with coolness, it rose from the well:
The old oaken bucket, the ironbound bucket,
The moss-covered bucket arose from the well.
3. How sweet from the green mossy brim to receive it,
As poised on the curb, it inclined to my lips!
Not a full blushing goblet could tempt me to leave it,
Though filled with the nectar which Jupiter sips;
And now, far removed from thy loved situation,
The tear of regret will intrusively swell,
As fancy reverts to my father's plantation,
And sighs for the bucket which hangs in the well:
The old oaken bucket, the ironbound bucket,
The moss-covered bucket, which hangs in the well.
EXERCISES.--Who was the author of "The Old Oaken Bucket"? What is said of this piece? What does the poem describe? and what feeling does it express?. 作者: ououmama 时间: 2012-5-4 12:31 标题: 第四册75课所罗门王与蚂蚁KING SOLOMON AND THE ANTS.
LXXV. KING SOLOMON AND THE ANTS.
By John Greenleaf Whittier, born near Haverhill, Mass., In 1807, and died at Hampton Falls, N. H., In 1892. Until he was eighteen years old he worked on the farm, and during that time learned the trade at a shoemaker. He afterwards became an editor and one of the first poets of America.
1. Out from Jerusalem
The king rode with his great
War chiefs and lords of state,
And Sheba's queen with them.
2. Proud in the Syrian sun,
In gold and purple sheen,
The dusky Ethiop queen
Smiled on King Solomon.
3. Wisest of men, he knew
The languages of all
The creatures great or small
That trod the earth or flew.
4. Across an ant-hill led
The king's path, and he heard
Its small folk, and their word
He thus interpreted:
5. "Here comes the king men greet
As wise and good and just,
To crush us in the dust
Under his heedless feet."
6. The great king bowed his head,
And saw the wide surprise
Of the Queen of Sheba's eyes
As he told her what they said.
7. "O king!" she whispered sweet,
"Too happy fate have they
Who perish in thy way
Beneath thy gracious feet!
8. "Thou of the God-lent crown,
Shall these vile creatures dare
Murmur against thee where
The knees of kings kneel down?"
9. "Nay," Solomon replied,
"The wise and strong should seek
The welfare of the weak;"
And turned his horse aside.
10. His train, with quick alarm,
Curved with their leader round
The ant-hill's peopled mound,
And left it free from harm.
11. The jeweled head bent low;
"O king!" she said, "henceforth
The secret of thy worth
And wisdom well I know.
12. "Happy must be the State
Whose ruler heedeth more
The murmurs of the poor
Than flatteries of the great.". 作者: ououmama 时间: 2012-5-4 12:33 标题: 第四册78课 农场生活LIVING ON A FARM
LIVING ON A FARM.
1. How brightly through the mist of years,
My quiet country home appears!
My father busy all the day
In plowing corn or raking hay;
My mother moving with delight
Among the milk pans, silver-bright;
We children, just from school set free,
Filling the garden with our glee.
The blood of life was flowing warm
When I was living on a farm.
2. I hear the sweet churchgoing bell,
As o'er the fields its music fell,
I see the country neighbors round
Gathering beneath the pleasant sound;
They stop awhile beside the door,
To talk their homely matters o'er¬
The springing corn, the ripening grain,
And "how we need a little rain;"
"A little sun would do no harm,
We want good weather for the farm."
3. When autumn came, what joy to see
The gathering of the husking bee,
To hear the voices keeping tune,
Of girls and boys beneath the moon,
To mark the golden corn ears bright,
More golden in the yellow light!
Since I have learned the ways of men,
I often turn to these again,
And feel life wore its highest charm.
When I was living on the farm.. 作者: ououmama 时间: 2012-5-4 12:35 标题: 第四册 82课垂死的士兵 THE DYING SOLDIERS
THE DYING SOLDIERS.
1. A waste of land, a sodden plain,
A lurid sunset sky,
With clouds that fled and faded fast
In ghostly phantasy;
A field upturned by trampling feet,
A field uppiled with slain,
With horse and rider blent in death
Upon the battle plain.
2. The dying and the dead lie low;
For them, no more shall rise
The evening moon, nor midnight stars,
Nor day light's soft surprise:
They will not wake to tenderest call,
Nor see again each home,
Where waiting hearts shall throb and break,
When this day's tidings come.
3. Two soldiers, lying as they fell
Upon the reddened clay--
In daytime, foes; at night, in peace
Breathing their lives away!
Brave hearts had stirred each manly breast;
Fate only, made them foes;
And lying, dying, side by side,
A softened feeling rose.
4. "Our time is short," one faint voice said;
"To-day we've done our best
On different sides: what matters now?
To-morrow we shall rest!
Life lies behind. I might not care
For only my own sake;
But far away are other hearts,
That this day's work will break.
5. "Among New Hampshire's snowy hills,
There pray for me to-night
A woman, and a little girl
With hair like golden light;"
And at the thought, broke forth, at last,
The cry of anguish wild,
That would not longer be repressed
"O God, my wife, my child!"
6. "And," said the other dying man,
"Across the Georgia plain,
There watch and wait for me loved ones
I ne'er shall see again:
A little girl, with dark, bright eyes,
Each day waits at the door;
Her father's step, her father's kiss,
Will never greet her more.
7. "To-day we sought each other's lives:
Death levels all that now;
For soon before God's mercy seat
Together we shall bow.
Forgive each other while we may;
Life's but a weary game,
And, right or wrong, the morning sun
Will find us, dead, the same."
8. The dying lips the pardon breathe;
The dying hands entwine;
The last ray fades, and over all
The stars from heaven shine;
And the little girl with golden hair,
And one with dark eyes bright,
On Hampshire's hills, and Georgia's plain,
Were fatherless that night!. 作者: ououmama 时间: 2012-5-4 12:38 标题: 第四册90课 母亲的礼物--圣经 A MOTHER'S GIFT-THE BIBLE
A MOTHER'S GIFT-THE BIBLE.
1.Remember, love, who gave thee this,
When other days shall come,
When she who had thine earliest kiss,
Sleeps in her narrow home.
Remember! 'twas a mother gave
The gift to one she'd die to save!
2. That mother sought a pledge of love,
The holiest for her son,
And from the gifts of God above,
She chose a goodly one;
She chose for her beloved boy,
The source of light, and life, and joy.
3. She bade him keep the gift, that, when
The parting hour should come,
They might have hope to meet again
In an eternal home.
She said his faith in this would be
Sweet incense to her memory.
4. And should the scoffer, in his pride,
Laugh that fond faith to scorn,
And bid him cast the pledge aside,
That he from youth had borne,
She bade him pause, and ask his breast
If SHE or HE had loved him best.
5. A parent's blessing on her son
Goes with this holy thing;
The love that would retain the one,
Must to the other cling.
Remember! 'tis no idle toy:
A mother's gift! remember, boy.. 作者: ououmama 时间: 2012-5-4 12:47 标题: 第四册69课、赫斯帕罗斯号的残骸THE WRECK OF THE HESPERUS
LXIX. THE WRECK OF THE HESPERUS.
By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, one of the greatest of American poets. He was born in Portland, Me., in 1807. For some years he held the professorship of Modern Languages in Bowdoin College, and later a similar professorship in Harvard College. He died March 21th, 1882.
1. It was the schooner Hesperus,
That sailed the wintry sea;
And the skipper had taken his little daughter,
To bear him company.
2. Blue were her eyes as the fairy flax,
Her checks like the dawn of day,
And her bosom white as the hawthorn buds,
That ope in the month of May.
3. The skipper, he stood beside the helm,
His pipe was in his mouth,
And he watched how the veering flaw did blow
The smoke now west, now south.
4. Then up and spake an old sailor,
Had sailed to the Spanish Main,
"I pray thee, put into yonder port,
For I fear the hurricane.
5. "Last night, the moon had a golden ring,
And to-night no moon we see!"
The skipper, he blew a whiff from his pipe,
And a scornful laugh laughed he.
6. Colder and louder blew the wind,
A gale from the northeast;
The snow fell hissing in the brine,
And the billows frothed like yeast.
7. Down came the storm, and smote amain
The vessel in its strength;
She shuddered and paused, like a frighted steed,
Then leaped her cable's length.
8. "Come hither! come hither! my little daughter,
And do not tremble so;
For I can weather the roughest gale
That ever wind did blow."
9. He wrapped her warm in his seaman's coat,
Against the stinging blast:
He cut a rope from a broken spar,
And bound her to the mast.
10. "O father! I hear the church bells ring,
Oh say, what may it be?"
"'Tis a fog bell on a rock-bound coast!"¬
And he steered for the open sea.
11. "O father! I hear the sound of guns,
Oh say, what may it be?"
"Some ship in distress, that can not live
In such an angry sea!"
12. "O father! I see a gleaming light,
Oh say, what may it be?"
But the father answered never a word,
A frozen corpse was he.
13. Lashed to the helm, all stiff and stark,
With his face turned to the skies,
The lantern gleamed through the gleaming snow
On his fixed and glassy eyes.
14. Then the maiden clasped her hands, and prayed
That saved she might be;
And she thought of Christ, who stilled the wave
On the lake of Galilee.
15. And fast through the midnight dark and drear,
Through the whistling sleet and snow,
Like a sheeted ghost, the vessel swept
Tow'rds the reef of Norman's Woe.
16. And ever the fitful gusts between
A sound came from the land:
It was the sound of the trampling surf
On the rocks and the hard sea sand.
17. The breakers were right beneath her bows,
She drifted a dreary wreck,
And a whooping billow swept the crew
Like icicles from her deck.
18. She struck where the white and fleecy waves
Looked soft as carded wool,
But the cruel rocks, they gored her side
Like the horns of an angry bull.
19. Her rattling shrouds, all sheathed in ice,
With the masts, went by the board;
Like a vessel of glass, she stove and sank,
Ho! ho! the breakers roared!
20. At day break, on the bleak seabeach,
A fisherman stood aghast,
To see the form of a maiden fair
Lashed close to a drifting mast.
21. The salt sea was frozen on her breast,
The salt tears in her eyes;
And he saw her hair, like the brown seaweed,
On the billows fall and rise.
22. Such was the wreck of the Hesperus
In the midnight and the snow:
Heav'n save us all from a death like this
On the reef of Norman's Woe!
NOTES.--This piece is written in the style of the old English ballads. The syllables marked (') have a peculiar accent not usually allowed.
4. The Spanish Main was the name formerly applied to the northern coast of South America from the Mosquito Territory to the Leeward Islands.
15. The reef of Norman's Woe. A dangerous ledge of rocks on the Massachusetts coast, near Gloucester harbor.
19. Went by the board. A sailor's expression, meaning "fell over the side of the vessel.". 作者: ououmama 时间: 2012-5-4 12:50 标题: 第四册65课 我见到的鬼 MY GHOST
MY GHOST.
By Mrs. S. M. B. Piatt, who was born near Lexington, Ky., in 1836. Among her published works may be mentioned "The Nests at Washington, and Other Poems," and "A Woman's Poems."
1. Yes, Katie, I think you are very sweet,
Now that the tangles are out of your hair,
And you sing as well as the birds you meet,
That are playing, like you, in the blossoms there.
But now you are coming to kiss me, you say:
Well, what is it for? Shall I tie your shoe?
Or loop up your sleeve in a prettier way?
"Do I know about ghosts?" Indeed I do.
2. "Have I seen one?" Yes; last evening, you know,
We were taking a walk that you had to miss,
(I think you were naughty, and cried to go,
But, surely, you'll stay at home after this!)
And, away in the twilight, lonesomely,
("What is the twilight?" It's--getting late!)
I was thinking of things that were sad to me!¬--
There, hush! you know nothing about them, Kate.
3. Well, we had to go through the rocky lane,
Close to that bridge where the water roars,
By a still, red house, where the dark and rain
Go in when they will at the open doors.
And the moon, that had just waked up, looked through
The broken old windows, and seemed afraid,
And the wild bats flew, and the thistles grew
Where once in the roses the children played.
4. Just across the road by the cherry trees
Some fallen white stones had been lying so long,
Half hid in the grass, and under these
There were people dead. I could hear the song
Of a very sleepy dove as I passed
The graveyard near, and the cricket that cried;
And I look'd (ah! the Ghost is coming at last!)
And something was walking at my side.
5. It seemed to be wrapped in a great dark shawl
(For the night was a little cold, you know,);
It would not speak. It was black and tall;
And it walked so proudly and very slow.
Then it mocked me everything I could do:
Now it caught at the lightning flies like me;
Now it stopped where the elder blossoms grew;
Now it tore the thorns from a gray bent tree.
6. Still it followed me under the yellow moon,
Looking back to the graveyard now and then,
Where the winds were playing the night a tune¬--
But, Kate, a Ghost doesn't care for men,
And your papa could n't have done it harm.
Ah! dark-eyed darling, what is it you see?
There, you needn't hide in your dimpled arm¬--
It was only my shadow that walk'd with me!. 作者: ououmama 时间: 2012-5-4 12:53 标题: 第四册62课 把哪个送人 WHICH?
WHICH?
By MRS. E. L. BEERS.
1. Which shall it be? Which shall it be?
I looked at John--John looked at me;
Dear, patient John, who loves me yet
As well as though my locks were jet.
And when I found that I must speak,
My voice seemed strangely low and weak:
"Tell me again what Robert said!"
And then I, listening, bent my head.
"This is his letter:"
2. "'I will give
A house and land while you shall live,
If, in return, from out your seven,
One child to me for aye is given.'"
I looked at John's old garments worn,
I thought of all that John had borne
Of poverty, and work, and care,
Which I, though willing, could not share;
I thought of seven mouths to feed,
Of seven little children's need,
And then of this.
3. "Come, John," said I,
"We'll choose among them as they lie
Asleep;" so, walking hand in hand,
Dear John and I surveyed our band.
First to the cradle light we stepped,
Where Lilian the baby slept,
A glory 'gainst the pillow white.
Softly the father stooped to lay
His rough hand down in loving way,
When dream or whisper made her stir,
And huskily he said: "Not her!"
4. We stooped beside the trundle-bed,
And one long ray of lamplight shed
Athwart the boyish faces there,
In sleep so pitiful and fair;
I saw on Jamie's rough, red cheek,
A tear undried. Ere John could speak,
"He's but a baby, too," said I,
And kissed him as we hurried by.
5.Pale, patient Robbie's angel face
Still in his sleep bore suffering's trace:
"No, for a thousand crowns, not him,"
He whispered, while our eyes were dim.
6. Poor Dick! bad Dick! our wayward son,
Turbulent, reckless, idle one--
Could he be spared? "Nay, He who gave,
Bade us befriend him to the grave;
Only a mother's heart can be
Patient enough for such as he;
And so," said John, "I would not dare
To send him from her bedside prayer."
7.Then stole we softly up above
And knelt by Mary, child of love.
"Perhaps for her 't would better be,"
I said to John. Quite silently
He lifted up a curl that lay
Across her cheek in willful way,
And shook his head. "Nay, love, not thee,"
The while my heart beat audibly.
8.Only one more, our eldest lad,
Trusty and truthful, good and glad
¬So like his father. "No, John, no--
I can not, will not let him go."
9.And so we wrote in courteous way,
We could not drive one child away.
And afterward, toil lighter seemed,
Thinking of that of which we dreamed;
Happy, in truth, that not one face
We missed from its accustomed place;
Thankful to work for all the seven,
Trusting the rest to One in heaven!. 作者: ououmama 时间: 2012-5-4 12:55 标题: 第四册58课 中国故事一则A CHINESE STORY
LVIII. A CHINESE STORY.
By Christopher Pearse Cranch, who was born at Alexandria, Va. (then D. C.), in 1813. He has written some well-known children's stories, besides numerous poems; but his greatest literary work is "The AEneid of Vergil, translated into English blank verse." He died in Cambridge Mass., 1892.
1.Two young, near-sighted fellows, Chang and Ching,
Over their chopsticks idly chattering,
Fell to disputing which could see the best;
At last, they agreed to put it to the test.
Said Chang, "A marble tablet, so I hear,
Is placed upon the Bo-hee temple near,
With an inscription on it. Let us go
And read it (since you boast your optics so),
Standing together at a certain place
In front, where we the letters just may trace;
Then he who quickest reads the inscription there,
The palm for keenest eyes henceforth shall bear."
"Agreed," said Ching, "but let us try it soon:
Suppose we say to-morrow afternoon."
2. "Nay, not so soon," said Chang; "I'm bound to go
To-morrow a day's ride from Hoang-Ho,
And sha'n't be ready till the following day:
At ten A. M., on Thursday, let us say."
3.So 'twas arranged; but Ching was wide-awake:
Time by the forelock he resolved to take;
And to the temple went at once, and read,
Upon the tablet, "To the illustrious dead,
The chief of mandarins, the great Goh-Bang."
Scarce had he gone when stealthily came Chang,
Who read the same; but peering closer, he
Spied in a corner what Ching failed to see¬--
The words, "This tablet is erected here
By those to whom the great Goh-Bang was dear."
4.So on the appointed day--both innocent
As babes, of course--these honest fellows went,
And took their distant station; and Ching said,
"I can read plainly, 'To the illustrious dead,
The chief of mandarins, the great Goh-Bang.'"
"And is that all that you can spell?" said Chang;
"I see what you have read, but furthermore,
In smaller letters, toward the temple door,
Quite plain, 'This tablet is erected here
By those to whom the great Goh-Bang was dear.'"
5. "My sharp-eyed friend, there are no such words!" said Ching.
"They're there," said Chang, "if I see anything,
As clear as daylight." "Patent eyes, indeed,
You have!" cried Ching; "do you think I can not read?"
"Not at this distance as I can," Chang said,
"If what you say you saw is all you read."
6. In fine, they quarreled, and their wrath increased,
Till Chang said, "Let us leave it to the priest;
Lo! here he comes to meet us," "It is well,"
Said honest Ching; "no falsehood he will tell."
7.The good man heard their artless story through,
And said, "I think, dear sirs, there must be few
Blest with such wondrous eyes as those you wear:
There's no such tablet or inscription there!
There was one, it is true; 't was moved away
And placed within the temple yesterday.". 作者: ououmama 时间: 2012-5-4 12:57 标题: 第四册55课SOMEBODY'S DARLING谁的亲人沉睡在这里
SOMEBODY'S DARLING.
1. Into a ward of the whitewashed halls,
Where the dead and dying lay,
Wounded by bayonets, shells, and balls,
Somebody's darling was borne one day;
2. Somebody's darling, so young and brave,
Wearing yet on his pale, sweet face,
Soon to be hid by the dust of the grave,
The lingering light of his boyhood's grace.
3. Matted and damp are the curls of gold,
Kissing the snow of that fair young brow;
Pale are the lips of delicate mold¬
Somebody's darling is dying now.
4. Back from his beautiful, blue-veined brow,
Brush all the wandering waves of gold;
Cross his hands on his bosom now;
Somebody's darling is still and cold.
5. Kiss him once for somebody's sake,
Murmur a prayer soft and low;
One bright curl from its fair mates take;
They were somebody's pride, you know;
6. Somebody's hand has rested there;
Was it a mother's, soft and white?
And have the lips of a sister fair
Been baptized in the waves of light?
7. God knows best! he was somebody's love:
Somebody's heart enshrined him there;
Somebody wafted his name above,
Night and morn, on the wings of prayer.
8. Somebody wept when he marched away,
Looking so handsome, brave, and grand;
Somebody's kiss on his forehead lay;
Somebody clung to his parting hand.
9. Somebody's watching and waiting for him,
Yearning to hold him again to her heart;
And there he lies, with his blue eyes dim,
And the smiling, childlike lips apart.
10. Tenderly bury the fair young dead,
Pausing too drop on his grave a tear;
Carve on the wooden slab at his head,
"Somebody's darling slumbers here.". 作者: ououmama 时间: 2012-5-4 12:59 标题: 第四册52课THE SNOW MAN.雪人
THE SNOW MAN.
By Marian Douglas
1. Look! how the clouds are flying south!
The winds pipe loud and shrill!
And high above the white drifts stands
The snow man on the hill.
2. Blow, wild wind from the icy north!
Here's one who will not fear
To feel thy coldest touch, or shrink
Thy loudest blast to hear.
3. Proud triumph of the schoolboy's skill!
Far rather would I be
A winter giant, ruling o'er
A frosty realm, like thee,
4. And stand amid the drifted snow,
Like thee, a thing apart,
Than be a man who walks with men,
But has a frozen heart!
EXERCISES.--With what is the snow man compared in this poem? What is meant by a man with "a frozen heart"? Do you think such a man would follow the Golden Rule?. 作者: ououmama 时间: 2012-5-4 13:01 标题: 第四册49课THE SANDPIPER矶鹞
XLIX. THE SANDPIPER.
By CELIA THAXTER.
1. Across the lonely beach we flit,
One little sandpiper and I,
And fast I gather, bit by bit,
The scattered driftwood, bleached and dry.
The wild waves reach their hands for it,
The wild wind raves, the tide runs high,
As up and down the beach we flit,
One little sandpiper and I.
2. Above our heads the sullen clouds
Scud, black and swift, across the sky;
Like silent ghosts in misty shrouds
Stand out the white lighthouses high.
Almost as far as eye can reach
I see the close-reefed vessels fly,
As fast we flit across the beach,
One little sandpiper and I.
3. I watch him as he skims along,
Uttering his sweet and mournful cry;
He starts not at my fitful song,
Nor flash of fluttering drapery.
He has no thought of any wrong,
He scans me with a fearless eye;
Stanch friends are we, well-tried and strong,
The little sandpiper and I.
4. Comrade, where wilt thou be to-night,
When the loosed storm breaks furiously?
My driftwood fire will burn so bright!
To what warm shelter canst thou fly?
I do not fear for thee, though wroth
The tempest rushes through the sky;
For are we not God's children both,
Thou, little sandpiper, and I?. 作者: ououmama 时间: 2012-5-4 13:05 标题: 第四册 45课THE TEMPEST暴风雨
XLV. THE TEMPEST.
By James T. Fields (born 1817, died 1881), who was born at Portsmouth, N. H. He was a poet, and the author, also, of some well known prose works. Of these, his "Yesterdays with Authors" is the most noted.
1. We were crowded in the cabin;
Not a soul would dare to sleep:
It was midnight on the waters,
And a storm was on the deep.
2. 'T is a fearful thing in winter
To be shattered by the blast,
And to hear the rattling trumpet
Thunder, "Cut away the mast!"
3. So we shuddered there in silence,
For the stoutest held his breath,
While the hungry sea was roaring,
And the breakers threatened death.
4. And as thus we sat in darkness,
Each one busy in his prayers,
"We are lost!" the captain shouted,
As he staggered down the stairs.
5. But his little daughter whispered,
As she took his icy hand,
"Is n't God upon the ocean,
Just the same as on the land?"
6. Then we kissed the little maiden,
And we spoke in better cheer;
And we anchored safe in harbor
When the morn was shining clear.. 作者: ououmama 时间: 2012-5-4 13:09 标题: 第四册43课THE WINTER KING.冬天之王
XLIII. THE WINTER KING.
1. Oh! what will become of thee, poor little bird?
The muttering storm in the distance is heard;
The rough winds are waking, the clouds growing black,
They'll soon scatter snowflakes all over thy back!
From what sunny clime hast thou wandered away?
And what art thou doing this cold winter day?
2. "I'm picking the gum from the old peach tree;
The storm doesn't trouble me. Pee, dee, dee!"
3. But what makes thee seem so unconscious of care?
The brown earth is frozen, the branches are bare:
And how canst thou be so light-hearted and free,
As if danger and suffering thou never should'st see,
When no place is near for thy evening nest,
No leaf for thy screen, for thy bosom no rest?
4."Because the same Hand is a shelter for me,
That took off the summer leaves. Pee, dee, dee!"
5. But man feels a burden of care and of grief,
While plucking the cluster and binding the sheaf:
In the summer we faint, in the winter we're chilled,
With ever a void that is yet to be filled.
We take from the ocean, the earth, and the air,
Yet all their rich gifts do not silence our care.
6. "A very small portion sufficient will be,
If sweetened with gratitude. Pee, dee, dee!"
7. But soon there'll be ice weighing down the light bough,
On which thou art flitting so playfully now;
And though there's a vesture well fitted and warm,
Protecting the rest of thy delicate form,
What, then, wilt thou do with thy little bare feet,
To save them from pain, mid the frost and the sleet?
8."I can draw them right up in my feathers, you see,
To warm them, and fly away. Pee, dee, dee!"
9.I thank thee, bright monitor; what thou hast taught
Will oft be the theme of the happiest thought;
We look at the clouds; while the birds have an eye
To Him who reigns over them, changeless and high.
And now little hero, just tell me thy name,
That I may be sure whence my oracle came.
10."Because, in all weather, I'm merry and free,
They call me the Winter King. Pee, dee, dee!". 作者: ououmama 时间: 2012-5-4 17:08 标题: 第四册38课 THE SUMMER SHOWER.夏季的雨
XXXVIII. THE SUMMER SHOWER.
The author, Thomas Buchanan Read, was born in Chester Co., Pa., March 12, 1822. His life was devoted to the fine arts, and he attained a high reputation both as artist and poet. He died in New York, May 11, 1872.
1. Before the stout harvesters falleth the grain,
As when the strong stormwind is reaping the plain,
And loiters the boy in the briery lane;
But yonder aslant comes the silvery rain,
Like a long line of spears brightly burnished and tall.
2. Adown the white highway like cavalry fleet,
It dashes the dust with its numberless feet.
Like a murmurless school, in their leafy retreat,
The wild birds sit listening the drops round
them beat;
And the boy crouches close to the blackberry wall.
3. The swallows alone take the storm on the wing,
And, taunting the tree-sheltered laborers, sing.
Like pebbles the rain breaks the face of the spring,
While a bubble darts up from each widening ring;
And the boy in dismay hears the loud shower fall.
4. But soon are the harvesters tossing their sheaves;
The robin darts out from his bower of leaves;
The wren peereth forth from the moss-covered eaves;
And the rain-spattered urchin now gladly perceives
That the beautiful bow bendeth over them all.. 作者: ououmama 时间: 2012-5-4 17:10 标题: 第四册34课 EVENING HYMN夜晚圣歌
XXXIV. EVENING HYMN.
1. Come to the sunset tree,
The day is past and gone;
The woodman's ax lies free,
And the reaper's work is done;
The twilight star to heaven,
And the summer dew to flowers,
And rest to us is given,
By the soft evening hours.
2. Sweet is the hour of rest,
Pleasant the woods' low sigh,
And the gleaming of the west,
And the turf whereon we lie,
When the burden and the heat
Of the laborer's task is o'er,
And kindly voices greet
The tired one at the door.
3. Yes, tuneful is the sound
That dwells in whispering boughs:
Welcome the freshness round,
And the gale that fans our brows;
But rest more sweet and still
Than ever the nightfall gave,
Our yearning hearts shall fill,
In the world beyond the grave.
4. There, shall no tempests blow,
Nor scorching noontide heat;
There, shall be no more snow,
No weary, wandering feet;
So we lift our trusting eyes
From the hills our fathers trod,
To the quiet of the skies,
To the Sabbath of our God.. 作者: ououmama 时间: 2012-5-4 17:12 标题: 28课THE VOICE OF THE GRASS.小草之声
XXVIII. THE VOICE OF THE GRASS.
By Sarah Roberts
1. Here I come, creeping, creeping, everywhere;
By the dusty roadside,
On the sunny hillside,
Close by the noisy brook,
In every shady nook,
I come creeping, creeping, everywhere.
2. Here I come, creeping, creeping everywhere;
All round the open door,
Where sit the aged poor,
Here where the children play,
In the bright and merry May,
I come creeping, creeping, everywhere.
3. Here I come, creeping, creeping, everywhere;
You can not see me coming,
Nor hear my low, sweet humming,
For in the starry night,
And the glad morning light,
I come, quietly creeping, everywhere.
4. Here I come, creeping, creeping, everywhere;
More welcome than the flowers,
In summer's pleasant hours;
The gentle cow is glad,
And the merry birds not sad,
To see me creeping, creeping, everywhere.
5. Here I come, creeping, creeping, everywhere;
When you're numbered with the dead,
In your still and narrow bed,
In the happy spring I'll come,
And deck your narrow home,
Creeping, silently creeping, everywhere.
6. Here I come, creeping, creeping, everywhere;
My humble song of praise,
Most gratefully I raise,
To Him at whose command
I beautify the land,
Creeping, silently creeping, everywhere.. 作者: ououmama 时间: 2012-5-4 17:16 标题: 第四册24课 STRAWBERRIES草莓
XXIV. STRAWBERRIES.
By John Townsend Trowbridge, who was born at Ogden, N. Y., in 1827. He is a well-known author, and has written much for children both in poetry and prose.
1.Little Pearl Honeydew, six years old,
From her bright ear parted the curls of gold;
And laid her head on the strawberry bed,
To hear what the red-cheeked berries said.
2.Their cheeks were blushing, their breath was sweet,
She could almost hear their little hearts beat;
And the tiniest, lisping, whispering sound
That ever you heard, came up from the ground.
3. "Little friends," she said, "I wish I knew
How it is you thrive on sun and dew!"
And this is the story the berries told
To little Pearl Honeydew, six years old.
4. "You wish you knew? And so do we.
But we can't tell you, unless it be
That the same Kind Power that cares for you
Takes care of poor little berries, too.
5. "Tucked up snugly, and nestled below
Our coverlid of wind-woven snow,
We peep and listen, all winter long,
For the first spring day and the bluebird's song.
6. "When the swallows fly home to the old brown shed,
And the robins build on the bough overhead,
Then out from the mold, from the darkness and cold,
Blossom and runner and leaf unfold.
7. "Good children, then, if they come near,
And hearken a good long while, may hear
A wonderful tramping of little feet,--
So fast we grow in the summer heat.
8. "Our clocks are the flowers; and they count the hours
Till we can mellow in suns and showers,
With warmth of the west wind and heat of the south,
A ripe red berry for a ripe red month.
9. "Apple blooms whiten, and peach blooms fall,
And roses are gay by the garden wall,
Ere the daisy's dial gives the sign
That we may invite little Pearl to dine.
10. "The days are longest, the month is June,
The year is nearing its golden noon,
The weather is fine, and our feast is spread
With a green cloth and berries red.
11. "Just take us betwixt your finger and thumb,¬
And quick, oh, quick! for, see! there come
Tom on all fours, and Martin the man,
And Margaret, picking as fast as they can.
12. "Oh, dear! if you only knew how it shocks
Nice berries like us to be sold by the box,
And eaten by strangers, and paid for with pelf,
You would surely take pity, and eat us yourself!"
13.And this is the story the small lips told
To dear Pearl Honeydew, six years old,
When she laid her head on the strawberry bed
To hear what the red-cheeked berries said.
EXERCISES.--What did little Pearl ask of the strawberries? What did they reply? Can you tell what name is given to this kind of story?. 作者: ououmama 时间: 2012-5-4 17:17 标题: 第四册22课JEANNETTE AND JO珍妮和乔
XXII. JEANNETTE AND JO.
By Mary Mapes Dodge, who was born in New York City in 1838. She is the editor of the "St. Nicholas" magazine, and has written many stories for children.
1. Two girls I know--Jeannette and Jo,
And one is always moping;
The other lassie, come what may,
Is ever bravely hoping.
2. Beauty of face and girlish grace
Are theirs, for joy or sorrow;
Jeannette takes brightly every day,
And Jo dreads each to-morrow.
3. One early morn they watched the dawn--
¬I saw them stand together;
Their whole day's sport, 't was very plain,
Depended on the weather.
4. "'T will storm!" cried Jo. Jeannette spoke low;
"Yes, but 't will soon be over."
And, as she spoke, the sudden shower
Came, beating down the clover.
5. "I told you so!" cried angry Jo:
"It always is a-raining!"
Then hid her face in dire despair,
Lamenting and complaining.
6. But sweet Jeannette, quite hopeful yet,--
¬I tell it to her honor,--
Looked up and waited till the sun
Came streaming in upon her.
7. The broken clouds sailed off in crowds,
Across a sea of glory.
Jeannette and Jo ran, laughing, in--
Which ends my simple story.
8. Joy is divine. Come storm, come shine,
The hopeful are the gladdest;
And doubt and dread, children, believe
Of all things are the saddest.
9. In morning's light, let youth be bright;
Take in the sunshine tender;
Then, at the close, shall life's decline
Be full of sunset splendor.
10. And ye who fret, try, like Jeannette,
To shun all weak complaining;
And not, like Jo, cry out too soon--
"It always is a-raining!". 作者: ououmama 时间: 2012-5-4 17:19 标题: 第四册20课FREAKS OF THE FROST霜之奇想
XX. FREAKS OF THE FROST.
By Hannah Flagg Gould, who was born at Lancaster, Vermont, in 1789. She published several volumes of poems (one for children) and one collection of prose articles, entitled "Gathered Leaves." She died in 1865.
.
1.The Frost looked forth one still, clear night,
And whispered, "Now I shall be out of sight;
So through the valley and over the height
In silence I'll take my way;
I will not go on, like that blustering train,
The wind and the snow, the hail and the rain,
Who make so much bustle and noise in vain,
But I'll be as busy as they."
2. Then he flew to the mountain, and powdered its crest;
He lit on the trees, and their boughs he dressed
In diamond beads; and over the breast
Of the quivering lake, he spread
A coat of mail, that it need not fear
The downward point of many a spear,
That he hung on its margin, far and near,
Where a rock could rear its head.
3. He went to the windows of those who slept,
And over each pane, like a fairy, crept;
Wherever he breathed, wherever he stepped,
By the light of the morn were seen
Most beautiful things; there were flowers and trees;
There were bevies of birds, and swarms of bees;
There were cities with temples and towers, and these
All pictured in silver sheen.
4. But he did one thing that was hardly fair;
He peeped in the cupboard, and, finding there
That all had forgotten for him to prepare,
"Now just to set them a-thinking,
I'll bite this basket of fruit," said he,
"This costly pitcher I'll burst in three;
And the glass of water they've left for me
Shall 'tchick!' to tell them I'm drinking."
EXERCISES.--What did the frost say? What did he do to the mountain? The trees? The lake? What is a "coat of mail"? What did he do to the window? The pitcher?. 作者: ououmama 时间: 2012-5-4 17:21 标题: 第四册18课 THE SAILOR'S CONSOLATION水手的慰藉
XVIII. THE SAILOR'S CONSOLATION.
Charles Dibdin, the author, was born at Southampton, England, in 1745. He wrote a number of fine sea songs. He died in 1814.
1. One night came on a hurricane,
The sea was mountains rolling,
When Barney Buntline turned his quid,
And said to Billy Bowling:
"A strong norwester's blowing, Bill;
Hark! don't ye hear it roar now?
Lord help 'em, how I pities all
Unhappy folks on shore now!
2. "Foolhardy chaps who live in town,
What danger they are all in,
And now are quaking in their beds,
For fear the roof shall fall in;
Poor creatures, how they envy us,
And wish, as I've a notion,
For our good luck, in such a storm,
To be upon the ocean.
3. "But as for them who're out all day,
On business from their houses,
And late at night are coming home,
To cheer the babes and spouses;
While you and I, Bill, on the deck,
Are comfortably lying,
My eyes! what tiles and chimney pots
About their heads are flying!
4. "And very often have we heard
How men are killed and undone
By overturns of carriages,
By thieves, and fires in London.
We know what risks all landsmen run,
From noblemen to tailors;
Then, Bill, let us thank Providence
That you and I are sailors."
NOTES.--l. "Barney Buntline" and "Billy Bowling" are supposed to be two sailors. "Norwester" is a sailor's name for a northwest storm. 4. "Landsmen" is a term applied by sailors to all who live on shore.. 作者: ououmama 时间: 2012-5-4 17:23 标题: 第四册16课 THE BROWN THRUSH棕色画眉鸟
XVI. THE BROWN THRUSH.
Lucy Larcom, the author of the following poem, was born in 1826, and passed many years of her life as a factory girl at Lowell, Mass. She died in 1893.
1. There's a merry brown thrush sitting up in a tree;
"He's singing to me! he's singing to me!"
And what does he say, little girl, little boy?
"Oh, the world's running over with joy!
Don't You hear? Don't you see?
Hush! look! In my tree
I'm as happy as happy can be!"
2. And the brown thrush keeps singing, "A nest do
you see,
And five eggs hid by me in the juniper tree?
Don't meddle! don't touch! little girl, little boy,
Or the world will lose some of its joy!
Now I'm glad! now I'm free!
And I always shall be,
If you never bring sorrow to me."
3. So the merry brown thrush sings away in the tree,
To you and to me, to you and to me;
And he sings all the day, little girl, little boy,
"Oh, the world's running over with joy!
But long it won't be,
Don't you know? Don't you see?
Unless we're as good as can be."
EXERCISES.--What is a thrush? Why was the thrush so happy? Do you think he would have been happy if the little boy or girl had robbed the nest?. 作者: ououmama 时间: 2012-5-4 17:25 标题: 第四册13课 PICCOLA皮克拉
XIII. PICCOLA.
By Celia Laighton Thaxter, who was born at Portsmouth, N. H., June 29, 1836. Much of her childhood was passed at White Island, one of the Isles of Shoals, off the coast of New Hampshire. "Among the Isles of Shoals," is her most noted work in prose. She published a volume of poems, many of which are favorites with children. She died in 1894.
1. Poor, sweet Piccola! Did you hear
What happened to Piccola, children dear?
'T is seldom Fortune such favor grants
As fell to this little maid of France.
2. 'T was Christmas time, and her parents poor
Could hardly drive the wolf from the door,
Striving with poverty's patient pain
Only to live till summer again.
3. No gift for Piccola! sad were they
When dawned the morning of Christmas day!
Their little darling no joy might stir;
St. Nicholas nothing would bring to her!
4. But Piccola never doubted at all
That something beautiful must befall
Every child upon Christmas day,
And so she slept till the dawn was gray.
5. And full of faith, when at last she woke,
She stole to her shoe as the morning broke;
Such sounds of gladness filled all the air,
'T was plain St. Nicholas had been there.
6. In rushed Piccola, sweet, half wild¬--
Never was seen such a joyful child--
"See what the good saint brought!" she cried,
And mother and father must peep inside.
7. Now such a story I never heard!
There was a little shivering bird!
A sparrow, that in at the window flew,
Had crept into Piccola's tiny shoe!
8."How good poor Piccola must have been!"
She cried, as happy as any queen,
While the starving sparrow she fed and warmed,
And danced with rapture, she was so charmed.
9.Children, this story I tell to you
Of Piccola sweet and her bird, is true.
In the far-off land of France, they say,
Still do they live to this very day.
EXERCISES.--What is meant by "driving the wolf from the door"? In the third stanza, what does "St." before Nicholas mean? Who is St. Nicholas? What did Piccola find in her shoe on Christmas morning?. 作者: ououmama 时间: 2012-5-4 17:27 标题: 第四册11课 TOMORROW明天
XI. TOMORROW.
Mrs. M. B. Johnson is the authoress of "To-morrow," one of a col¬lection of poems; entitled "Poems of Home Life."
1.A bright, merry boy, with laughing face,
Whose every motion was full of grace,
Who knew no trouble and feared no care,
Was the light of our household--the youngest there.
2. He was too young, this little elf,
With troublesome questions to vex himself;
But for many days a thought would rise,
And bring a shade to his dancing eyes.
3. He went to one whom he thought more wise
Than any other beneath the skies;
"Mother,"--O word that makes the home!¬--
"Tell me, when will to-morrow come?"
4. "It is almost night," the mother said,
"And time for my boy to be in bed;
When you wake up and it's day again,
It will be to-morrow, my darling, then."
5.The little boy slept through all the night,
But woke with the first red streak of light;
He pressed a kiss to his mother's brow,
And whispered, "Is it to-morrow now?"
6. "No, little Eddie, this is to-day:
To-morrow is always one night away."
He pondered a while, but joys came fast,
And this vexing question quickly passed.
7. But it came again with the shades of night;
"Will it be to-morrow when it is light?"
From years to come he seemed care to borrow,
He tried so hard to catch to-morrow.
8."You can not catch it, my little Ted;
Enjoy to-day," the mother said;
"Some wait for to-morrow through many a year
It is always coming, but never is here."
EXERCISES.--What is meant by "dancing eyes" in the second stanza? What is meant by "the shades of night," in the seventh stanza? Of what name are "Eddie" and "Ted" nicknames? What troubled Eddie? Can you define tomorrow? What did Eddie's mother advise him to do?
IX. MEDDLESOME MATTY.
1. Oh, how one ugly trick has spoiled
The sweetest and the best!
Matilda, though a pleasant child,
One grievous fault possessed,
Which, like a cloud before the skies,
Hid all her better qualities.
2. Sometimes, she'd lift the teapot lid
To peep at what was in it;
Or tilt, the kettle, if you did
But turn your back a minute.
In vain you told her not to touch,
Her trick of meddling grew so much.
3. Her grand mamma went out one day,
And, by mistake, she laid
Her spectacles and snuffbox gay,
Too near the little maid;
"Ah! well," thought she, "I'll try them on,
As soon as grand mamma is gone."
4. Forthwith, she placed upon her nose
The glasses large and wide;
And looking round, as I suppose,
The snuffbox, too, she spied.
"Oh, what a pretty box is this!
I'll open it," said little miss.
5. "I know that grandmamma would say,
'Don't meddle with it, dear;'
But then she's far enough away,
And no one else is near;
Beside, what can there be amiss
In opening such a box as this?"
6. So, thumb and finger went to work
To move the stubborn lid;
And, presently, a mighty jerk
The mighty mischief did;
For all at once, ah! woeful case!
The snuff came puffing in her face.
7. Poor eyes, and nose, and mouth, and chin
A dismal sight presented;
And as the snuff got further in,
Sincerely she repented.
In vain she ran about for ease,
She could do nothing else but sneeze.
8. She dashed the spectacles away,
To wipe her tingling eyes;
And, as in twenty bits they lay,
Her grandmamma she spies.
"Heyday! and what's the matter now?"
Cried grandmamma, with angry brow.
9. Matilda, smarting with the pain,
And tingling still, and sore,
Made many a promise to refrain
From meddling evermore;
And 't is a fact, as I have heard,
She ever since has kept her word.
EXERCISES.--What did Matilda do? How was she punished? What effect did it have on her?. 作者: ououmama 时间: 2012-5-4 17:31 标题: 第四册7课LAZY NED懒人奈德
VII. LAZY NED.
1."'T is royal fun," cried lazy Ned,
"To coast, upon my fine, new sled,
And beat the other boys;
But then, I can not bear to climb
The tiresome hill, for every time
It more and more annoys."
2.So, while his schoolmates glided by,
And gladly tugged uphill, to try
Another merry race,
Too indolent to share their plays,
Ned was compelled to stand and gaze,
While shivering in his place.
3.Thus, he would never take the pains
To seek the prize that labor gains,
Until the time had passed;
For, all his life, he dreaded still
The silly bugbear of uphill,
And died a dunce at last.
EXERCISES.--What did Ned like? What did he not like?. 作者: ououmama 时间: 2012-5-4 17:33 标题: 第四册5课 POPPING CORN爆米花
V. POPPING CORN.
1. One autumn night, when the wind was high,
And the rain fell in heavy plashes,
A little boy sat by the kitchen fire,
A-popping corn in the ashes;
And his sister, a curly-haired child of three,
Sat looking on, just close to his knee.
2. Pop! pop! and the kernels, one by one,
Came out of the embers flying;
The boy held a long pine stick in his hand,
And kept it busily plying;
He stirred the corn and it snapped the more,
And faster jumped to the clean-swept floor.
3. Part of the kernels flew one way,
And a part hopped out the other;
Some flew plump into the sister's lap,
Some under the stool of the brother;
The little girl gathered them into a heap,
And called them a flock of milk-white sheep.. 作者: ououmama 时间: 2012-5-4 18:18 标题: 第五册L2THE BLUEBELL风铃草
II. THE BLUEBELL.
1. There is a story I have heard¬--
A poet learned it of a bird,
And kept its music every word--
2. A story of a dim ravine,
O'er which the towering tree tops lean,
With one blue rift of sky between;
3. And there, two thousand years ago,
A little flower as white as snow
Swayed in the silence to and fro.
4. Day after day, with longing eye,
The floweret watched the narrow sky,
And fleecy clouds that floated by.
5. And through the darkness, night by night,
One gleaming star would climb the height,
And cheer the lonely floweret's sight.
6. Thus, watching the blue heavens afar,
And the rising of its favorite star,
A slow change came--but not to mar;
7. For softly o'er its petals white
There crept a blueness, like the light
Of skies upon a summer night;
8. And in its chalice, I am told,
The bonny bell was formed to hold
A tiny star that gleamed like gold.
9. Now, little people, sweet and true,
I find a lesson here for you
Writ in the floweret's hell of blue:
10. The patient child whose watchful eye
Strives after all things pure and high,
Shall take their image by and by.. 作者: ououmama 时间: 2012-5-4 18:19 标题: 第五册 L4 THE GRANDFATHER 爷爷
IV. THE GRANDFATHER.
Charles G. Eastman (b. 1816, d.1861) was born in Maine, but removed at an early age to Vermont, where he was connected with the press at Burlington, Woodstock, and Montpelier. He published a volume of poems in 1848, written in a happy lyric and ballad style, and faithfully portraying rural life in New England.
1. The farmer sat in his easy-chair
Smoking his pipe of clay,
While his hale old wife with busy care,
Was clearing the dinner away;
A sweet little girl with fine blue eyes,
On her grandfather's knee, was catching flies.
2. The old man laid his hand on her head,
With a tear on his wrinkled face,
He thought how often her mother, dead,
Had sat in the selfsame place;
As the tear stole down from his half-shut eye,
"Don't smoke!" said the child, "how it makes you cry!"
3. The house dog lay stretched out on the floor,
Where the shade, afternoons, used to steal;
The busy old wife by the open door
Was turning the spinning wheel,
And the old brass clock on the manteltree
Had plodded along to almost three.
4. Still the farmer sat in his easy-chair,
While close to his heaving breast
The moistened brow and the cheek so fair
Of his sweet grandchild were pressed;
His head bent down, all her soft hair lay;
Fast asleep were they both on that summer day.. 作者: ououmama 时间: 2012-5-4 18:22 标题: 第五册 L6 THE SINGING LESSON 唱歌课
VI. THE SINGING LESSON.
Jean Ingelow (b. 1830, d.1897) was born at Boston, Lincolnshire, England. Her fame as a poetess was at once established upon the publication of her "Poems" in 1863; since which time several other volumes have appeared. The most generally admired of her poems are "Songs of Seven" and "The High Tide on the Coast of Lincolnshire," She has also written several successful novels, of which, "Off the Skelligs" is the most popular. "Stories Told to a Child," "The Cumberers," "Poor Mat," "Studies for Stories," and "Mopsa, the Fairy" are also well known. Miss Ingelow resided in London, England, and spent much of her time in deeds of charity.
1. A nightingale made a mistake;
She sang a few notes out of tune:
Her heart was ready to break,
And she hid away from the moon.
She wrung her claws, poor thing,
But was far too proud to weep;
She tucked her head under her wing,
And pretended to be asleep.
2. A lark, arm in arm with a thrush,
Came sauntering up to the place;
The nightingale felt herself blush,
Though feathers hid her face;
She knew they had heard her song,
She felt them snicker and sneer;
She thought that life was too long,
And wished she could skip a year.
3. "O nightingale!" cooed a dove;
"O nightingale! what's the use?
You bird of beauty and love,
Why behave like a goose?
Don't sulk away from our sight,
Like a common, contemptible fowl;
You bird of joy and delight,
Why behave like an owl?
4. "Only think of all you have done;
Only think of all you can do;
A false note is really fun
From such a bird as you!
Lift up your proud little crest,
Open your musical beak;
Other birds have to do their best,
You need only to speak!"
6. The nightingale shyly took
Her head from under her wing,
And, giving the dove a look,
Straightway began to sing.
There was never a bird could pass;
The night was divinely calm;
And the people stood on the grass
To hear that wonderful psalm.
6. The nightingale did not care,
She only sang to the skies;
Her song ascended there,
And there she fixed her eyes.
The people that stood below
She knew but little about;
And this tale has a moral, I know,
If you'll try and find it out.
NOTE.--The nightingale is a small bird, about six inches in length, with a coat of dark-brown feathers above and of grayish, white beneath. Its voice is astonishingly strong and sweet, and, when wild, it usually sings throughout the evening and night from April to the middle of summer. The bird is common in Europe, but is not found in America.. 作者: ououmama 时间: 2012-5-4 18:24 标题: 第五册 L8 WORK.劳动
VIII. WORK.
Eliza Cook (b. 1817, d. 1889) was born at London. In 1837 she commenced contributing to periodicals. In 1840 the first collection of her poems was made. In 1849 she became editor of "Eliza Cook's Journal."
1. Work, work, my boy, be not afraid;
Look labor boldly in the face;
Take up the hammer or the spade,
And blush not for your humble place.
2. There's glory in the shuttle's song;
There's triumph in the anvil's stroke;
There's merit in the brave and strong
Who dig the mine or fell the oak.
3. The wind disturbs the sleeping lake,
And bids it ripple pure and fresh;
It moves the green boughs till they make
Grand music in their leafy mesh.
4. And so the active breath of life
Should stir our dull and sluggard wills;
For are we not created rife
With health, that stagnant torpor kills?
5. I doubt if he who lolls his head
Where idleness and plenty meet,
Enjoys his pillow or his bread
As those who earn the meals they eat.
6. And man is never half so blest
As when the busy day is spent
So as to make his evening rest
A holiday of glad content.. 作者: ououmama 时间: 2012-5-4 18:25 标题: 第五册 L10 ROBIN REDBREAST 知更鸟
X. ROBIN REDBREAST.
William Allingham (b. 1828, d. 1889) was born at Ballyshannon, Ire¬land. His father was a banker, and gave him a good education in Irish schools. He showed his literary tastes at an early date, contributing to periodicals, etc. In 1850 he published his first volume of poems; in 1854 his "Day and Night Songs" appeared, and in 1864 a poem in twelve chapters entitled "Lawrence Bloomfield in Ireland," His reputation was established chiefly through his shorter lyrics, or ballad poetry. In 1864 he received a literary pension.
1. Good-by, good-by to Summer!
For Summer's nearly done;
The garden smiling faintly,
Cool breezes in the sun;
Our thrushes now are silent,
Our swallows flown away,--
But Robin's here in coat of brown,
And scarlet brestknot gay.
Robin, Robin Redbreast,
O Robin dear!
Robin sings so sweetly
In the falling of the year.
2. Bright yellow, red, and orange,
The leaves come down in hosts;
The trees are Indian princes,
But soon they'll turn to ghosts;
The leathery pears and apples
Hang russet on the bough;
It's autumn, autumn, autumn late,
'T will soon be winter now.
Robin, Robin Redbreast,
O Robin dear!
And what will this poor Robin do?
For pinching days are near.
3. The fireside for the cricket,
The wheat stack for the mouse,
When trembling night winds whistle
And moan all round the house.
The frosty ways like iron,
The branches plumed with snow,¬--
Alas! in winter dead and dark,
Where can poor Robin go?
Robin, Robin Redbreast,
O Robin dear!
And a crumb of bread for Robin,
His little heart to cheer.
Note.--The Old World Robin here referred to is quite different in appearance and habits from the American Robin. It is only about half the size of the latter. Its prevailing color above is olive green, while the forehead, cheeks, throat, and breast are a light yellowish red. It does not migrate, but is found at all seasons throughout temperate Europe, Asia Minor, and northern Africa.. 作者: ououmama 时间: 2012-5-4 18:29 标题: 第五册 L12 下雪了
XII. IT SNOWS.
Sarah Josepha Hale (b. 1788?, d.1879) was born in Newport, N.H. Her maiden name was Buell. In 1814 she married David Hale, an eminent lawyer, who died in 1822. Left with five children to support, she turned her attention to literature. In 1828 she became editor of the "Ladies' Magazine." In 1837 this periodical was united with "Godey's Lady's Book," of which Mrs. Hale was literary editor for more than forty years.
1. "It snows!" cries the Schoolboy, "Hurrah!" and his shout
Is ringing through parlor and hall,
While swift as the wing of a swallow, he's out,
And his playmates have answered his call;
It makes the heart leap but to witness their joy;
Proud wealth has no pleasures, I trow,
Like the rapture that throbs in the pulse of the boy
As he gathers his treasures of snow;
Then lay not the trappings of gold on thine heirs,
While health and the riches of nature are theirs.
2. "It snows!" sighs the Imbecile, "Ah!" and his breath
Comes heavy, as clogged with a weight;
While, from the pale aspect of nature in death,
He turns to the blaze of his grate;
And nearer and nearer, his soft-cushioned chair
Is wheeled toward the life-giving flame;
He dreads a chill puff of the snow-burdened air,
Lest it wither his delicate frame;
Oh! small is the pleasure existence can give,
When the fear we shall die only proves that we live!
3. "It snows!" cries the Traveler, "Ho!" and the word
Has quickened his steed's lagging pace;
The wind rushes by, but its howl is unheard,
Unfelt the sharp drift in his face;
For bright through the tempest his own home appeared,
Ay, though leagues intervened, he can see:
There's the clear, glowing hearth, and the table prepared,
And his wife with her babes at her knee;
Blest thought! how it lightens the grief-laden hour,
That those we love dearest are safe from its power!
4. "It snows!" cries the Belle, "Dear, how lucky!" and turns
From her mirror to watch the flakes fall,
Like the first rose of summer, her dimpled cheek burns!
While musing on sleigh ride and ball:
There are visions of conquests, of splendor, and mirth,
Floating over each drear winter's day;
But the tintings of Hope, on this storm-beaten earth,
Will melt like the snowflakes away.
Turn, then thee to Heaven, fair maiden, for bliss;
That world has a pure fount ne'er opened in this.
5. "It snows!" cries the Widow, "O God!" and her sighs
Have stifled the voice of her prayer;
Its burden ye'll read in her tear-swollen eyes,
On her cheek sunk with fasting and care.
'T is night, and her fatherless ask her for bread,
But "He gives the young ravens their food,"
And she trusts till her dark hearth adds horror to dread.,
And she lays on her last chip of wood.
Poor sufferer! that sorrow thy God only knows;
'T is a most bitter lot to be poor when it snows.
REMARK.--Avoid reading this piece in a monotonous style. Try to express the actual feeling of each quotation; and enter into the descriptions with spirit.. 作者: ououmama 时间: 2012-5-4 18:31 标题: 第五册L14 THE SANDS O' DEE 迪河沙滩
XIV. THE SANDS O' DEE.
Charles Kingsley (b.1819, d.1875) was born at Holne, Devonshire, England. He took his bachelor's degree at Cambridge in 1842, and soon after entered the Church. His writings are quite voluminous, including sermons, lectures, novels, fairy tales, and poems, published in book form, besides numerous miscellaneous sermons and magazine articles. He was an earnest worker for bettering the condition of the working classes, and this object was the basis of most of his writings. As a lyric poet he has gained a high place. The "Saint's Tragedy" and "Andromeda" are the most pretentious of his poems, and "Alton Locke" and "Hypatia" are his best known novels.
1. "O Mary, go and call the cattle home,
And call the cattle home,
And call the cattle home,
Across the sands o' Dee!"
The western wind was wild and dank with foam,
And all alone went she.
2. The creeping tide came up along the sand,
And o'er and o'er the sand,
And round and round the sand,
As far as eye could see;
The blinding mist came down and hid the land--
¬And never home came she.
3. Oh, is it weed, or fish, or floating hair?¬--
A tress o' golden hair,
O' drowned maiden's hair,
Above the nets at sea.
Was never salmon yet that shone so fair
Among the stakes on Dee.
4. They rowed her in across the rolling foam,
The cruel, crawling foam,
The cruel, hungry foam,
To her grave beside the sea;
But still the boatmen hear her call the cattle home,
Across the sands O' Dee.
Notes.--The Sands O' Dee. The Dee is a river of Scotland, noted for its salmon fisheries.
O' is a contraction for of, commonly used by the Scotch.
RKMARK.--The first three lines of each stanza deserve special attention in reading. The final words are nearly or quite the same, but the expression of each line should vary. The piece should be read in a low key and with a pure, musical tone.. 作者: ououmama 时间: 2012-5-4 18:33 标题: 第五册 L16 THE CORN SONG玉米谣·
XVI. THE CORN SONG.
1. Heap high the farmer's wintry hoard!
Heap high the golden corn!
No richer gift has Autumn poured
From out her lavish horn!
2. Let other lands, exulting, glean
The apple from the pine,
The orange from its glossy green,
The cluster from the vine;
3. We better love the hardy gift
Our rugged vales bestow,
To cheer us, when the storm shall drift
Our harvest fields with snow.
4. Through vales of grass and meads of flowers
Our plows their furrows made,
While on the hills the sun and showers
Of changeful April played.
5. We dropped the seed o'er hill and plain,
Beneath the sun of May,
And frightened from our sprouting grain
The robber crows away.
6. All through the long, bright days of June,
Its leaves grew green and fair,
And waved in hot midsummer's noon
Its soft and yellow hair.
7. And now, with Autumn's moonlit eves,
Its harvest time has come;
We pluck away the frosted leaves
And bear the treasure home.
8. There, richer than the fabled gift
Apollo showered of old,
Fair hands the broken grain shall sift,
And knead its meal of gold.
9. Let vapid idlers loll in silk,
Around their costly board;
Give us the bowl of samp and milk,
By homespun beauty poured!
10. Where'er the wide old kitchen hearth
Sends up its smoky curls,
Who will not thank the kindly earth
And bless our farmer girls!
11. Then shame on all the proud and vain,
Whose folly laughs to scorn
The blessing of our hardy grain,
Our wealth of golden corn!
12. Let earth withhold her goodly root;
Let mildew blight the rye,
Give to the worm the orchard's fruit,
The wheat field to the fly:
13. But let the good old crop adorn
The hills our fathers trod;
Still let us, for his golden corn,
Send up our thanks to God!
From Whittier's "Songs of Labor."
Notes.--8. According to the ancient fable, Apollo, the god of music, sowed the isle of Delos, his birthplace, with golden flowers, by the music of his lyre.. 作者: ououmama 时间: 2012-5-4 18:41 标题: 第五册 L18 THE FESTAL BOARD节日聚会
XVIII. THE FESTAL BOARD.
1. Come to the festal board tonight,
For bright-eyed beauty will be there,
Her coral lips in nectar steeped,
And garlanded her hair.
2. Come to the festal board to-night,
For there the joyous laugh of youth
Will ring those silvery peals, which speak
Of bosom pure and stainless truth.
3. Come to the festal board to-night,
For friendship, there, with stronger chain,
Devoted hearts already bound
For good or ill, will bind again.
I went.
4. Nature and art their stores outpoured;
Joy beamed in every kindling glance;
Love, friendship, youth, and beauty smiled;
What could that evening's bliss enhance?
We parted.
5. And years have flown; but where are now
The guests who round that table met?
Rises their sun as gloriously
As on the banquet's eve it set?
6. How holds the chain which friendship wove?
It broke; and soon the hearts it bound
Were widely sundered; and for peace,
Envy and strife and blood were found.
7. The merriest laugh which then was heard
Has changed its tones to maniac screams,
As half-quenched memory kindles up
Glimmerings of guilt in feverish dreams.
8. And where is she whose diamond eyes
Golconda's purest gems outshone?
Whose roseate lips of Eden breathed?
Say, where is she, the beauteous one?
9. Beneath yon willow's drooping shade,
With eyes now dim, and lips all pale,
She sleeps in peace. Read on her urn,
"A broken heart." This tells her tale.
10. And where is he, that tower of strength,
Whose fate with hers for life was joined?
How beats his heart, once honor's throne?
How high has soared his daring mind?
11. Go to the dungeon's gloom to-night;
His wasted form, his aching head,
And all that now remains of him,
Lies, shuddering, on a felon's bed.
12. Ask you of all these woes the cause?
The festal board, the enticing bowl,
More often came, and reason fled,
And maddened passions spurned control.
13. Learn wisdom, then. The frequent feast
Avoid; for there, with stealthy tread
Temptation walks, to lure you on,
Till death, at last, the banquet spread.
14. And shun, oh shun, the enchanted cup!
Though now its draught like joy appears,
Ere long it will be fanned by sighs,
And sadly mixed with blood and tears.
NOTES.--8. Golconda is an ancient city and fortress of India, formerly renowned for its diamonds. They were merely cut and polished there, however, being generally brought from Parteall, a city farther south.. 作者: ououmama 时间: 2012-5-4 18:43 标题: 第五册 L20 THE BATTLE OF BLENHEIM 布伦海姆战役
XX. THE BATTLE OF BLENHEIM.
Robert Southey (b. 1774, d. 1843) was born in Bristol, England. He entered Balliol College, Oxford, in 1793. In 1804 he established himself permanently at Greta Hall, near Keswick, Cumberland, in the "Lake Country," where he enjoyed the friendship and society of Wordsworth and Coleridge, other poets of the "Lake School." He was appointed poet laureate in 1813, and received a pension of £300 a year from the gov¬ernment in 1835. Mr. Southey was a voluminous writer in both prose and verse. As a poet, he can not be placed in the first rank, although some of his minor poems are very happy in thought and expression. Among his most noted poetical works are "Joan of Arc," "Thalaba the Destroyer," "Madoc," "Roderick," and the "Curse of Kehama,"
1. It was a summer evening,
Old Kaspar's work was done,
And he, before his cottage door,
Was sitting in the sun;
And by him sported on the green,
His little grandchild Wilhelmine.
2. She saw her brother Peterkin
Roll something large and round,
Which he beside the rivulet,
In playing there, had found;
He came to ask what he had found,
That was so large, and smooth, and round.
3. Old Kaspar took it from the boy,
Who stood expectant by;
And then the old man shook his head,
And, with a natural sigh,
" 'T is some poor fellow's skull," said he,
"Who fell in the great victory.
4. "I find them in the garden,
For there's many hereabout;
And often when I go to plow,
The plowshare turns them out;
For many thousand men," said he,
"Were slain in that great victory."
5. "Now tell us what 't was all about,"
Young Peterkin he cries;
While little Wilhelmine looks up
With wonder-waiting eyes;
"Now tell us all about the war,
And what they killed each other for."
6. "It was the English," Kaspar cried,
"Who put the French to rout,
But what they killed each other for,
I could not well make out;
But everybody said," quoth he,
"That 't was a famous victory:
7. "My father lived at Blenheim then,
Yon little stream, hard by;
They burnt his dwelling to the ground,
And he was forced to fly;
So, with his wife and child he fled,
Nor had he where to rest his head.
8. "With fire and sword, the country round
Was wasted, far and wide;
And many a nursing mother then,
And newborn baby died;
But things like that, you know, must be
At every famous victory.
9. "They say it was a shocking sight
After the field was won;
For many thousand bodies here
Lay rotting in the sun:
But things like that, you know, must be
After a famous victory.
10. "Great praise the Duke of Marlboro' won,
And our young prince, Eugene."
"Why, 't was a very wicked thing!"
Said little Wilhelmine.
"Nay, nay, my little girl!" quoth he,
"It was a famous victory.
11. "And everybody praised the Duke
Who this great fight did win."
"But what good came of it at last?"
Quoth little Peterkin.
"Why, that I can not tell," said he,
"But 't was a glorious victory."
NOTES.--The Battle of Blenheim, in the "War of the Spanish Succession," was fought August 13, 1704, near Blenheim, in Bavaria, between the French and Bavarians, on one Ride, and an allied army under the great English general, the Duke of Marlborough, and Eugene, Prince of Savoy, on the other. The latter won a decisive victory: 10,000 of the defeated army were killed and wounded, and 13,000 were taken prisoners.. 作者: ououmama 时间: 2012-5-4 18:46 标题: 第五册L22 AN ELEGY ON MADAM BLAIZE 布莱兹夫人的挽歌
XXII. AN ELEGY ON MADAM BLAIZE.
Oliver Goldsmith (b. 1728, d. 1774) was born at Pallas, or Pallasmore, in the parish of Forney, Ireland. He received his education at several schools, at Trinity College, Dublin, at Edinburgh, and at Leyden. He spent some time in wandering over continental Europe, often in poverty and want. In 1756 he became a resident of London, where he made the acquaintance of several celebrated men, among whom were Dr. Johnson and Sir Joshua Reynolds. His writings are noted for their purity, grace, and fluency. His fame as a poet is secured by "The Traveler," and "The Deserted Village;" as a dramatist, by "She Stoops to Conquer;" and as a novelist, by "The Vicar of Wakefield." His reckless extravagance always kept him in financial difficulty, and he died heavily in debt. His monument is in Westminster Abbey.
1. Good people all, with one accord,
Lament for Madam Blaize,
Who never wanted a good word¬--
From those who spoke her praise.
2. The needy seldom passed her door,
And always found her kind;
She freely lent to all the poor--
Who left a pledge behind.
3. She strove the neighborhood to please,
With manner wondrous winning:
She never followed wicked ways--
¬Unless when she was sinning.
4. At church, in silks and satin new,
With hoop of monstrous size,
She never slumbered in her pew--
¬But when she shut her eyes.
5. Her love was sought, I do aver,
By twenty beaux and more;
The king himself has followed her¬
When she has walked before.
6. But now, her wealth and finery fled,
Her hangers-on cut short all,
Her doctors found, when she was dead--
Her last disorder mortal.
7. Let us lament, in sorrow sore;
For Kent Street well may say,
That, had she lived a twelvemonth more--
¬She had not died to-day.. 作者: ououmama 时间: 2012-5-4 18:48 标题: L24 我为什么而活
XXIV. WHAT I LIVE FOR.
1. I live for those who love me,
Whose hearts are kind and true;
For the heaven that smiles above me,
And awaits my spirit, too;
For all human ties that bind me,
For the task my God assigned me,
For the bright hopes left behind me,
And the good that I can do.
2. I live to learn their story,
Who suffered for my sake;
To emulate their glory,
And follow in their wake;
Bards, patriots, martyrs, sages,
The noble of all ages,
Whose deeds crown History's pages,
And Time's great volume make.
3. I live to hail that season,
By gifted minds foretold,
When man shall live by reason,
And not alone by gold;
When man to man united,
And every wrong thing righted,
The whole world shall be lighted
As Eden was of old.
4. I live for those who love me,
For those who know me true;
For the heaven that smiles above me,
And awaits my spirit, too;
For the cause that needs assistance,
For the wrongs that need resistance,
For the future in the distance,
And the good that I can do.. 作者: ououmama 时间: 2012-5-4 18:49 标题: 第五册L26 ABOU BEN ADHEM 阿博 本 埃德海姆
XXVI. ABOU BEN ADHEM.
James Henry Leigh Hunt (b. 1784, d. 1859) was the son of a West Indian, who married an American lady, and practiced law in Phila¬delphia until the Revolution; being a Tory, he then returned to England, where Leigh Hunt was born. The latter wrote many verses while yet a boy, and in 1801 his father published a collection of them, entitled "Ju¬venilia." For many years he was connected with various newspapers, and, while editor of the "Examiner," was imprisoned for two years for writing disrespectfully of the prince regent. While in prison he was visited frequently by the poets Byron, Moore, Lamb, Shelley, and Keats; and there wrote "The Feast of the Poets," "The Descent of Liberty, a Mask," and "The Story of Rimini," which immediately gave him a rep¬utation as a poet. His writings include various translations, dramas, novels, collections of essays, and poems.
1. ABOU BEN ADHEM (may his tribe increase!)
Awoke one night from a deep dream of peace,
And saw within the moonlight in his room,
Making it rich and like a lily in bloom,
An angel writing in a book of gold.
2. Exceeding peace had made Ben Adhem bold;
And to the presence in the room he said,
"What writest thou?" The vision raised its head,
And, with a look made of all sweet accord,
Answered, "The names of those who love the Lord."
3. "And is mine one?" said Abou. "Nay, not so,"
Replied the angel. Abou spoke more low,
But cheerly still; and said, "I pray thee, then,
Write me as one that loves his fellow-men."
4. The angel wrote, and vanished. The next night
It came again, with a great wakening light,
And showed the names whom love of God had blessed;
And, lo! Ben Adhem's name led all the rest.
NOTE.--The above selection is written in imitation of an oriental fable.. 作者: ououmama 时间: 2012-5-4 18:51 标题: 第五册L28 THE REAPER AND THE FLOWERS 花朵与死亡
XXVIII. THE REAPER AND THE FLOWERS.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow (b. 1807, d. 1882), 朗费罗the son of Hon. Stephen Longfellow, an eminent lawyer, was born in Portland, Maine. He graduated at Bowdoin College in 1825. After spending four years in Europe, he was Professor of Modern Languages and Literature at Bow¬doin till 1835, when he was appointed to the chair of Modern Languages and Belles-lettres in Harvard University. He resigned his professor¬ship in 1854, after which time he resided in Cambridge, Mass. Long¬fellow wrote many original works both in verse and prose, and made several translations, the most famous of which is that of the works of Dante. His poetry is always chaste and elegant, showing traces of careful scholarship in every line. The numerous and varied editions of his poems are evidences of their popularity.
1. There is a Reaper whose name is Death,
And, with his sickle keen,
He reaps the bearded grain at a breath,
And the flowers that grow between.
2. "Shall I have naught that is fair?" saith he;
"Have naught but the bearded grain?
Though the breath of these flowers is sweet to me,
I will give them all back again."
3. He gazed at the flowers with tearful eyes,
He kissed their drooping leaves;
It was for the Lord of Paradise
He bound them in his sheaves.
4. "My Lord has need of these flowerets gay,"
The Reaper said, and smiled;
"Dear tokens of the earth are they,
Where he was once a child.
5. "They shall all bloom in the fields of light,
Transplanted by my care,
And saints, upon their garments white,
These sacred blossoms wear."
6. And the mother gave in tears and pain
The flowers she most did love;
She knew she should find them all again
In the fields of light above.
7. O, not in cruelty, not in wrath,
The Reaper came that day,
'T was an angel visited the green earth,
And took the flowers away.. 作者: ououmama 时间: 2012-5-4 18:53 标题: L30 GOOD NIGHT 晚安
XXX. GOOD NIGHT.
Samuel Griswold Goodrich (b. 1793, d. 1860) was born in Ridgefield, Conn. Mr. Goodrich is best known as "Peter Parley," under which assumed name he commenced the publication of a series of Juvenile works about 1827. He edited "Parley's Magazine" from 1841 to 1854. He was appointed United States consul for Paris in 1848, and held that office four years. He was a voluminous writer, and his works are interesting and popular. His "Recollections of a Lifetime" was published in 1857, and "Peter Parley's Own Story" the year after his death.
1. The sun has sunk behind the hills,
The shadows o'er the landscape creep;
A drowsy sound the woodland fills,
As nature folds her arms to sleep:
Good night--good night.
2. The chattering jay has ceased his din,
The noisy robin sings no more;
The crow, his mountain haunt within,
Dreams 'mid the forest's surly roar:
Good night--good night.
3. The sunlit cloud floats dim and pale;
The dew is falling soft and still,
The mist hangs trembling o'er the vale,
And silence broods o'er yonder mill:
Good night--good night.
4. The rose, so ruddy in the light,
Bends on its stem all rayless now;
And by its side a lily white,
A sister shadow, seems to bow:
Good night--good night.
5. The bat may wheel on silent wing,
The fox his guilty vigils keep,
The boding owl his dirges sing;
But love and innocence will sleep:
Good night--good night.. 作者: ououmama 时间: 2012-5-4 18:54 标题: L32 妈妈的双手
XXXII. MY MOTHER'S HANDS.
1. Such beautiful, beautiful hands!
They're neither white nor small;
And you, I know, would scarcely think
That they are fair at all.
I've looked on hands whose form and hue
A sculptor's dream might be;
Yet are those aged, wrinkled hands
More beautiful to me.
2. Such beautiful, beautiful hands!
Though heart were weary and sad,
Those patient hands kept toiling on,
That the children might be glad.
I always weep, as, looking back
To childhood's distant day,
I think how those hands rested not
When mine were at their play.
3. Such beautiful, beautiful hands!
They're growing feeble now,
For time and pain have left their mark
On hands and heart and brow.
Alas! alas! the nearing time,
And the sad, sad day to me,
When 'neath the daisies, out of sight,
These hands will folded be.
4. But oh! beyond this shadow land,
Where all is bright and fair,
I know full well these dear old hands
Will palms of victory bear;
Where crystal streams through endless years
Flow over golden sands,
And where the old grow young again,
I'll clasp my mother's hands.. 作者: ououmama 时间: 2012-5-4 18:56 标题: 第五册L34 THE DEATH OF THE FLOWERS 花朵的死亡
XXXIV. THE DEATH OF THE FLOWERS.
William Cullen Bryant (b. 1794, d. 1878) was born in Cummington, Mass. He entered Williams College at the age of sixteen, but was hon¬orably dismissed at the end of two years. At the age of twenty-one he was admitted to the bar, and practiced his profession successfully for nine years. In 1826 he removed to New York, and became connected with the "Evening Post"--a connection which continued to the time of his death. His residence for more than thirty of the last years of his life was at Roslyn, Long Island. He visited Europe several times; and in 1849 he continued his travels into Egypt and Syria,
In all his poems, Mr. Bryant exhibits a remarkable love for, and a careful study of, nature. His language, both in prose and verse, is always chaste, correct, and elegant. "Thanatopsis," perhaps the best known of all his poems, was written when he was but nineteen. His excellent transla¬tions of the "Iliad" and the "Odyssey" of Homer and some of his best poems, were written after he had passed the age of seventy. He retained his powers and his activity till the close of his life.
1. The melancholy days are come,
The saddest of the year,
Of wailing winds, and naked woods,
And meadows brown and sear.
Heaped in the hollows of the grove
The autumn leaves lie dead;
They rustle to the eddying gust,
And to the rabbit's tread.
The robin and the wren are flown,
And from the shrubs the jay,
And from the wood top calls the crow
Through all the gloomy day.
2. Where are the flowers, the fair young flowers,
That lately sprang and stood
In brighter light and softer airs,
A beauteous sisterhood?
Alas! they all are in their graves;
The gentle race of flowers
Are lying in their lowly beds
With the fair and good of ours.
The rain is falling where they lie;
But the cold November rain
Calls not from out the gloomy earth
The lovely ones again.
3. The windflower and the violet,
They perished long ago,
And the brier rose and the orchis died
Amid the summer's glow;
But on the hill, the golden-rod,
And the aster in the wood,
And the yellow sunflower by the brook,
In autumn beauty stood,
Till fell the frost from the clear, cold heaven,
As falls the plague on men,
And the brightness of their smile was gone
From upland, glade, and glen,
4. And now, when comes the calm, mild day,
As still such days will come,
To call the squirrel and the bee
From out their winter home;
When the sound of dropping nuts is heard,
Though all the trees are still,
And twinkle in the smoky light
The waters of the rill,
The south wind searches for the flowers
Whose fragrance late he bore,
And sighs to find them in the wood
And by the stream no more.
5. And then I think of one, who in
Her youthful beauty died,
The fair, meek blossom that grew up
And faded by my side.
In the cold, moist earth we laid her,
When the forest cast the leaf,
And we wept that one so lovely
Should have a life so brief;
Yet not unmeet it was that one,
Like that young friend of ours,
So gentle and so beautiful,
Should perish with the flowers.. 作者: ououmama 时间: 2012-5-4 18:58 标题: 第五册L36 四月的日子
XXXVI. APRIL DAY.
Caroline Anne Southey (b. 1786, d.1854), the second wife of Southey the poet, and better known as Caroline Bowles, was born near Lyming¬ton, Hampshire, England. Her first work, "Ellen Fitzarthur," a poem, was published in 1820; and for more than twenty years her writings were published anonymously. In 1839 she was married to Mr. Southey, and survived him over ten years. Her poetry is graceful in expression, and full of tenderness, though somewhat melancholy. The following extract first appeared in 1822 in a collection entitled, "The Widow's Tale, and other Poems."
1. All day the low-hung clouds have dropped
Their garnered fullness down;
All day that soft, gray mist hath wrapped
Hill, valley, grove, and town.
2. There has not been a sound to-day
To break the calm of nature;
Nor motion, I might almost say,
Of life or living creature;
3. Of waving bough, or warbling bird,
Or cattle faintly lowing;
I could have half believed I heard
The leaves and blossoms growing.
4. I stood to hear--I love it well--
¬The rain's continuous sound;
Small drops, but thick and fast they fell,
Down straight into the ground.
5. For leafy thickness is not yet
Earth's naked breast to screen,
Though every dripping branch is set
With shoots of tender green.
6. Sure, since I looked, at early morn,
Those honeysuckle buds
Have swelled to double growth; that thorn
Hath put forth larger studs.
7. That lilac's cleaving cones have burst,
The milk-white flowers revealing;
Even now upon my senses first
Methinks their sweets are stealing.
8. The very earth, the steamy air,
Is all with fragrance rife!
And grace and beauty everywhere
Are flushing into life.
9. Down, down they come, those fruitful stores,
Those earth-rejoicing drops!
A momentary deluge pours,
Then thins, decreases, stops.
10. And ere the dimples on the stream
Have circled out of sight,
Lo! from the west a parting gleam
Breaks forth of amber light.
* * * * * * *
11. But yet behold--abrupt and loud,
Comes down the glittering rain;
The farewell of a passing cloud,
The fringes of its train.. 作者: ououmama 时间: 2012-5-4 19:02 标题: 第五册 L38 THE CATARACT OF LODORE 洛多大瀑布
XXXVIII. THE CATARACT OF LODORE.
1."How does the water
Come down at Lodore?"
My little boy asked me
Thus once on a time;
And, moreover, he tasked me
To tell him in rhyme.
2. Anon at the word,
There first came one daughter,
And then came another,
To second and third
The request of their brother,
And to hear how the water
Comes down at Lodore,
With its rush and its roar,
As many a time
They had seen it before.
3.So I told them in rhyme,
For of rhymes I had store,
And 't was in my vocation
For their recreation
That so I should sing;
Because I was Laureate
To them and the King.
4.From its sources which well
In the tarn on the fell;
From its fountains
In the mountains,
Its rills and its gills;
Through moss and through brake,
It runs and it creeps
For a while, till it sleeps
In its own little lake.
5.And thence at departing,
Awakening and starting,
It runs through the reeds,
And away it proceeds,
Through meadow and glade,
In sun and in shade,
And through the wood shelter,
Among crags in its flurry,
Helter-skelter,
Hurry-skurry.
6. Here it comes sparkling,
And there it lies darkling;
Now smoking and frothing
Its tumult and wrath in,
Till, in this rapid race
On which it is bent,
It reaches the place
Of its steep descent.
7. The cataract strong
Then plunges along,
Striking and raging
As if a war waging
Its caverns and rocks among;
8. Rising and leaping,
Sinking and creeping,
Swelling and sweeping,
Showering and springing,
Flying and flinging,
Writhing and ringing,
Eddying and whisking,
Spouting and frisking,
Turning and twisting,
Around and around
With endless rebound;
Smiting and fighting,
A sight to delight in;
Confounding, astounding,
Dizzying, and deafening the ear with its sound
9. Collecting, projecting,
Receding and speeding,
And shocking and rocking,
And darting and parting,
And threading and spreading,
And whizzing and hissing,
And dripping and skipping,
And hitting and splitting,
And shining and twining,
And rattling and battling,
And shaking and quaking,
And pouring and roaring,
And waving and raving,
And tossing and crossing,
And guggling and struggling,
And heaving and cleaving,
And moaning and groaning,
And glittering and frittering,
And gathering and feathering,
And whitening and brightening,
And quivering and shivering,
And hurrying and skurrying,
And thundering and floundering;
10. Dividing and gliding and sliding,
And falling and brawling and sprawling,
And driving and riving and striving,
And sprinkling and twinkling and wrinkling;
11. And thumping and plumping and bumping and jumping,
And dashing and flashing and splashing and clashing;
And so never ending, but always descending,
Sounds and motions forever and ever are blending,
All at once and all o'er, with a mighty uproar,
And this way the water comes down at Lodore.
--Abridged from Southey.
NOTES.--1. Lodore is a cascade on the banks of Lake Derwent¬water, in Cumberland, England, near where Southey lived.
3. Laureate. The term probably arose from a custom in the English universities of presenting a laurel wreath to graduates in rhetoric and versification. In England the poet laureate's office is filled by appointment of the lord chamberlain. The salary is quite small, and the office is valued chiefly as one of honor.
This lesson is peculiarly adapted for practice on the difficult sound ing.. 作者: ououmama 时间: 2012-5-4 19:05 标题: 第五册 L40 ROBERT OF LINCOLN 罗伯特 林肯
XL. ROBERT OF LINCOLN.
1. Merrily swinging on brier and weed,
Near to the nest of his little dame,
Over the mountain side or mead,
Robert of Lincoln is telling his name:
"Bobolink, bobolink,
Spink, spank, spink.
Snug and safe is that nest of ours.
Hidden among the summer flowers.
Chee, chee, chee."
2. Robert of Lincoln is gaily dressed,
Wearing a bright black wedding coat:
White are his shoulders, and white his crest,
Hear him call in his merry note:
"Bobolink, bobolink,
Spink, spank, spink,
Look what a nice new coat is mine;
Sure, there was never a bird so fine.
Chee, chee, chee."
3. Robert of Lincoln's Quaker wife,
Pretty and quiet, with plain brown wings,
Passing at home a patient life,
Broods in the grass while her husband sings:
"Bobolink, bobolink,
Spink, spank, spink,
Brood, kind creature; you need not fear
Thieves and robbers while I am here.
Chee, chee, chee."
4. Modest and shy as a nun is she,
One weak chirp is her only note;
Braggart and prince of braggarts is he,
Pouring boasts from his little throat:
"Bobolink, Bobolink,
Spink, spank, spink,
Never was I afraid of man,
Catch me, cowardly knaves, if you can.
Chee, chee, chee."
5. Six white eggs on a bed of hay,
Flecked with purple, a pretty sight!
There as the mother sits all day,
Robert is singing with all his might:
"Bobolink, bobolink,
Spink, spank, spink,
Nice good wife that never goes out,
Keeping house while I frolic about.
Chee, chee, chee."
6. Soon as the little ones chip the shell,
Six wide mouths are open for food;
Robert of Lincoln bestirs him well,
Gathering seeds for the hungry brood..
"Bobolink, bobolink,
Spink, spank, spink,
This new life is likely to be
Hard for a gay young fellow like me.
Chee, chee, chee."
7. Robert of Lincoln at length is made
Sober with work, and silent with care;
Off is his holiday garment laid,
Half forgotten that merry air:
"Bobolink, bobolink,
Spink, spank, spink,
Nobody knows but my mate and I
Where our nest and our nestlings lie.
Chee, chee, chee."
8. Summer wanes; the children are grown;
Fun and frolic no more he knows;
Robert of Lincoln's a humdrum crone;
Off he flies, and we sing as he goes:
"Bobolink, bobolink,
Spink, spank, spink,
When you can pipe that merry old strain,
Robert of Lincoln, come back again.
Chee, chee, chee."
Thomas Hood (b. 1798, d. 1845) was the son of a London bookseller. After leaving school he undertook to learn the art of an engraver, but soon turned his attention to literature. In 1821 he became sub-editor of the "London Magazine." Hood is best known as a humorist; but some of his poems are full of the tenderest pathos; and a gentle, humane spirit pervades even his lighter productions. He was poor, and during the last years of his life suffered much from ill health. Some of his most humorous pieces were written on a sick bed.
1. Ben Battle was a soldier bold,
And used to war's alarms;
But a cannon ball took off his legs,
So he laid down his arms!
2. Now, as they bore him off the field,
Said he, "Let others shoot,
For here I leave my second leg,
And the Forty-second Foot!"
3. The army surgeons made him limbs;
Said he, "They're only pegs:
But there's as wooden members quite,
As represent my legs!"
4. Now Ben, he loved a pretty maid,
Her Name was Nelly Gray;
So he went to pay her his devoirs,
When he'd devoured his pay.
5. But when he called on Nelly Gray,
She made him quite a scoff;
And when she saw his wooden legs,
Began to take them off!
6. "O Nelly Gray! O Nelly Gray!
Is this your love so warm '?
The love that loves a scarlet coat
Should be more uniform!"
7. Said she, "I loved a soldier once,
For he was blithe and brave;
But I will never have a man
With both legs in the grave!
8. "Before you had these timber toes,
Your love I did allow,
But then, you know, you stand upon
Another footing now!"
9. "O false and fickle Nelly Gray!
I know why you refuse:
Though I've no feet--some other man
Is standing in my shoes!
10. "I wish I ne'er had seen your face;
But, now, a long farewell!
For you will be my death;--alas!
You will not be my NELL!"
11. Now when he went from Nelly Gray,
His heart so heavy got,
And life was such a burden grown,
It made him take a knot!
12. So round his melancholy neck,
A rope he did entwine,
And for the second time in life.
Enlisted in the Line!
13. One end he tied around a beam,
And then removed his pegs,
And, as his legs were off, of course
He soon was off his legs.
14. And there he hung till he was dead
As any nail in town:
For, though distress had cut him up,
It could not cut him down!
NOTES.--2. Forty-second Foot. Infantry in the army is spoken of as "the foot," and the "Forty-second Foot" means the Forty¬second Regiment of Infantry.
3. Members. Persons elected to Parliament in Great Britain are called "Members," and are said to represent those who elect them.
12. The Line is another name for the regular infantry.. 作者: ououmama 时间: 2012-5-4 19:09 标题: 第五册 L44 FORTY YEARS AGO 四十年前
XLIV. FORTY YEARS AGO.
1. I've wandered to the village, Tom,
I've sat beneath the tree,
Upon the schoolhouse playground,
That sheltered you and me;
But none were left to greet me, Tom,
And few were left to know,
Who played with me upon the green,
Just forty years ago.
2. The grass was just as green, Tom,
Barefooted boys at play
Were sporting, just as we did then,
With spirits just as gay.
But the master sleeps upon the hill,
Which, coated o'er with snow,
Afforded us a sliding place,
Some forty years ago.
3. The old schoolhouse is altered some;
The benches are replaced
By new ones very like the same
Our jackknives had defaced.
But the same old bricks are in the wall,
The bell swings to and fro;
Its music's just the same, dear Tom,
'T was forty years ago.
4. The spring that bubbled 'neath the hill,
Close by the spreading beech,
Is very low; 't was once so high
That we could almost reach;
And kneeling down to take a drink,
Dear Tom, I started so,
To think how very much I've changed
Since forty years ago.
5. Near by that spring, upon an elm,
You know, I cut your name,
Your sweetheart's just beneath it, Tom;
And you did mine the same.
Some heartless wretch has peeled the bark;
'T was dying sure, but slow,
Just as that one whose name you cut
Died forty years ago.
6. My lids have long been dry, Tom,
But tears came in my eyes:
I thought of her I loved so well,
Those early broken ties.
I visited the old churchyard,
And took some flowers to strew
Upon the graves of those we loved
Just forty years ago.
7. Some are in the churchyard laid,
Some sleep beneath the sea;
And none are left of our old class
Excepting you and me.
And when our time shall come, Tom,
And we are called to go,
I hope we'll meet with those we loved
Some forty years ago.. 作者: ououmama 时间: 2012-5-4 19:49 标题: 第五册 L46THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH 乡村铁匠
XLVI. THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH.
1. Under a spreading chestnut tree
The village smithy stands;
The smith, a mighty man is he,
With large and sinewy hands;
And the muscles of his brawny arms
Are strong as iron bands.
2. His hair is crisp, and black, and long,
His face is like the tan;
His brow is wet with honest sweat,
He earns whate'er he can,
And looks the whole world in the face,
For he owes not any man.
3. Week in, week out, from morn till night,
You can hear his bellows blow;
You can hear him swing his heavy sledge,
With measured beat and slow,
Like a sexton ringing the village bell,
When the evening sun is low.
4. And children coming home from school
Look in at the open door;
They love to see the flaming forge,
And hear the bellows roar,
And catch the burning sparks that fly
Like chaff from a threshing floor.
5. He goes on Sunday to the church,
And sits among his boys;
He hears the parson pray and preach,
He hears his daughter's voice
Singing in the village choir,
And it makes his heart rejoice.
6. It sounds to him like her mother's voice
Singing in Paradise!
He needs must think of her once more,
How in the grave she lies;
And with his hard, rough hand he wipes
A tear out of his eyes.
7. Toiling, rejoicing, sorrowing,
Onward through life he goes;
Each morning sees some task begin,
Each evening sees its close;
Something attempted, something done,
Has earned a night's repose.
8. Thanks, thanks to thee, my worthy friend,
For the lesson thou hast taught!
Thus at the flaming forge of life
Our fortunes must be wrought;
Thus on its sounding anvil shaped
Each burning deed and thought!
--朗费罗Longfellow.. 作者: ououmama 时间: 2012-5-4 19:51 标题: 第五册 L48 THE SNOWSTORM 暴风雪
XLVIII. THE SNOWSTORM.
James Thomson (b. 1700, d.1748) was born at Ednam, in the shire of Roxburgh, Scotland. He was educated at the University of Edinburgh, and afterwards studied for the ministry, but in a short time changed his plans and devoted himself to literature. His early poems are quite insig¬nificant, but "The Seasons," from which the following selection is taken; and the "Castle of Indolence," are masterpieces of English poetry.
1. Through the hushed air the whitening shower descends,
At first thin wavering; till at last the flakes
Fall broad and wide and fast, dimming the day,
With a continual flow. The cherished fields
Put on their winter robe of purest white.
'T is brightness all: save where the new snow melts
Along the mazy current.
2. Low the woods
Bow their hoar head; and ere the languid sun
Faint from the west emits its evening ray,
Earth's universal face, deep-hid and chill,
Is one wild dazzling waste, that buries wide
The works of man.
3. Drooping, the laborer ox
Stands covered o'er with snow, and then demands
The fruit of all his toil. The fowls of heaven,
Tamed by the cruel season, crowd around
The winnowing store, and claim the little boon
Which Providence assigns them.
4. One alone,
The Redbreast, sacred to the household gods,
Wisely regardful of the embroiling sky,
In joyless fields and thorny thickets leaves
His shivering mates, and pays to trusted man
His annual visit.
5. Half-afraid, he first
Against the window beats; then, brisk, alights
On the warm hearth; then, hopping o'er the floor,
Eyes all the smiling family askance,
And pecks, and starts, and wonders where he is;
Till, more familiar grown, the table crumbs
Attract his slender feet.
6. The foodless wilds
Pour forth their brown inhabitants. The hare,
Though timorous of heart, and hard beset
By death in various forms, dark snares and dogs,
And more unpitying men, the garden seeks,
Urged on by fearless want. The bleating kind.
Eye the bleak heaven, and next the glistening earth,
With looks of dumb despair; then, sad dispersed,
Dig for the withered herb through heaps of snow
7. Now, shepherds, to your helpless charge be kind,
Baffle the raging year, and fill their pens
With food at will; lodge them below the storm,
And watch them strict; for from the bellowing east,
In this dire season, oft the whirlwind's wing
Sweeps up the burden of whole wintry plains
In one wide waft, and o'er the hapless flocks,
Hid in the hollow of two neighboring hills,
The billowy tempest 'whelms; till, upward urged,
The valley to a shining mountain swells,
Tipped with a wreath high-curling in the sky
NOTE.--4. Household gods. An allusion to the belief of the ancient Romans in the Penates--certain gods who were supposed to protect the household and all connected with it. The idea here expressed is, that the Redbreast was secure from harm.. 作者: ououmama 时间: 2012-5-4 19:54 标题: 第五册 L50 往日绣花图案
L. THE OLD SAMPLER.
1. Out of the way, in a corner
Of our dear old attic room,
Where bunches of herbs from the hillside
Shake ever a faint perfume,
An oaken chest is standing,
With hasp and padlock and key,
Strong as the hands that made it
On the other side of the sea.
2. When the winter days are dreary,
And we're out of heart with life,
Of its crowding cares aweary,
And sick of its restless strife,
We take a lesson in patience
From the attic corner dim,
Where the chest still holds its treasures,
A warder faithful and grim.
3. Robes of an antique fashion,
Linen and lace and silk,
That time has tinted with saffron,
Though once they were white as milk;
Wonderful baby garments,
'Boidered with loving care
By fingers that felt the pleasure,
As they wrought the ruffles fair;
4. A sword, with the red rust on it,
That flashed in the battle tide,
When from Lexington to Yorktown
Sorely men's souls were tried;
A plumed chapeau and a buckle,
And many a relic fine,
And, an by itself, the sampler,
Framed in with berry and vine.
5. Faded the square of canvas,
And dim is the silken thread,
But I think of white hands dimpled,
And a childish, sunny head;
For here in cross and in tent stitch,
In a wreath of berry and vine,
She worked it a hundred years ago,
"Elizabeth, Aged Nine."
6. In and out in the sunshine,
The little needle flashed,
And in and out on the rainy day,
When the merry drops down plashed,
As close she sat by her mother,
The little Puritan maid,
And did her piece in the sampler,
While the other children played.
7. You are safe in the beautiful heaven,
"Elizabeth, aged nine;"
But before you went you had troubles
Sharper than any of mine.
Oh, the gold hair turned with sorrow
White as the drifted snow.
And your tears dropped here where I'm standing,
On this very plumed chapeau.
8. When you put it away, its wearer
Would need it nevermore,
By a sword thrust learning the secrets
God keeps on yonder shore;
And you wore your grief like glory,
You would not yield supine,
Who wrought in your patient childhood,
"Elizabeth, Aged Nine."
9. Out of the way, in a corner,
With hasp and padlock and key,
Stands the oaken chest of my fathers
That came from over the sea;
And the hillside herbs above it
Shake odors fragrant and fine,
And here on its lid is a garland
To "Elizabeth, aged nine."
10. For love is of the immortal,
And patience is sublime,
And trouble a thing of every day,
And touching every time;
And childhood sweet and sunny,
And womanly truth and grace,
Ever call light life's darkness
And bless earth's lowliest place.
--Mrs. M. E. Sangster. 桑斯特夫人
NOTES.--6. Puritan. The Puritans were a religious sect who fled from persecution in England, and afterwards settled the most of New England.
A sampler is a needlework pattern; a species of fancywork formerly much in vogue.. 作者: ououmama 时间: 2012-5-4 19:55 标题: 第五册L52 MY MOTHER 妈妈
LII. MY MOTHER.
1. Often into folly straying,
O, my mother! how I've grieved her!
Oft I've heard her for me praying,
Till the gushing tears relieved her;
And she gently rose and smiled,
Whispering, "God will keep my child."
2. She was youthful then, and sprightly,
Fondly on my father leaning,
Sweet she spoke, her eyes shone brightly,
And her words were full of meaning;
Now, an autumn leaf decayed;
I, perhaps, have made it fade.
3. But, whatever ills betide thee,
Mother, in them all I share;
In thy sickness watch beside thee,
And beside thee kneel in prayer.
Best of mothers! on my breast
Lean thy head, and sink to rest.. 作者: ououmama 时间: 2012-5-4 19:57 标题: 第五册L53 THE HOUR OF PRAYER 祷告时刻
LIII. THE HOUR OF PRAYER.
Felicia Dorothea Hemans (b. 1794, d. 1835) was born in Liverpool, England. Her maiden name was Browne. Her childhood was spent in Wales. Her first volume of poems was published in 1808; her second in 1812. In 1812 she was married to Captain Hemans, but he left her about six years after their marriage, and they never again lived together. She went, with her five sons, to reside with her mother, then living near St. Asaph, in North Wales. Mrs. Hemans then resumed her literary pur¬suits, and wrote much and well. Her poetry is smooth and graceful, and she excels in description. Many of her poems are exceedingly beautiful.
1. Child, amid the flowers at play,
While the red light fades away;
Mother, with thine earnest eye,
Ever following silently;
Father, by the breeze at eve
Called thy harvest work to leave;
Pray! Ere yet the dark hours be,
Lift the heart, and bend the knee.
2. Traveler, in the stranger's land,
Far from thine own household band;
Mourner, haunted by the tone
Of a voice from this world gone;
Captive, in whose narrow cell
Sunshine hath not leave to dwell;
Sailor, on the darkening sea;
Lift the heart and bend the knee.
3. Warrior, that from battle won,
Breathest now at set of sun;
Woman, o'er the lowly slain
Weeping on his burial plain;
Ye that triumph, ye that sigh,
Kindred by one holy tie,
Heaven's first star alike ye see;
Lift the heart, and bend the knee.. 作者: ououmama 时间: 2012-5-4 19:58 标题: 第五册 L55 THE NOSE AND THE EYES 鼻子和眼睛
LV. THE NOSE AND THE EYES.
William Cowper (b. 1731, d. 1800) was the son of an English clergyman, and was born in Great Berkhamstead, Hertfordshire, England. He was sent to Westminster School when he was ten years of age, and he remained there, a diligent student, eight years. He then studied law, and was admitted to the bar, but he never practiced his profession. He was appointed to a clerkship in the House of Lords when he was about thirty years old, but he never entered upon the discharge of his duties. He became insane, and was sent to a private asylum. After his recovery, he found a home in the family of the Rev. Mr. Unwin. On the death of this gentleman, he resided with the widow till her death--most of the time at Olney. His first writing's were published in 1782. "The Task," some hymns, a number of minor poems, and his translations or Homer, composed his published works. His insanity returned at times, and darkened a pure and gentle life at its close.
1. Between Nose and Eyes a strange contest arose;
The spectacles set them, unhappily, wrong;
The point in dispute was, as all the world knows,
To which the said spectacles ought to belong.
2. So Tongue was the lawyer, and argued the cause,
With a great deal of skill and a wig full of learning,
While chief baron Ear sat to balance the laws,
So famed for his talent in nicely discerning.
3. "In behalf of the Nose, it will quickly appear,
And your lordship," he said, "will undoubtedly find,
That the Nose has the spectacles always to wear,
Which amounts to possession, time out of mind."
4. Then, holding the spectacles up to the court,
"Your lordship observes, they are made with a straddle
As wide as the ridge of the Nose is; in short,
Designed to sit close to it, just like a saddle.
5. "Again, would your lordship a moment suppose
('T is a case that has happened, and may happen again)
That the visage or countenance had not a Nose,
Pray, who would or who could wear spectacles then?
6. "On the whole it appears, and my argument shows,
With a reasoning the court will never condemn,
That the spectacles plainly were made for the Nose,
And the Nose was as plainly intended for them."
7. Then shifting his side (as a lawyer knows how),
He pleaded again in behalf of the Eyes:
But what were his arguments, few people know,
For the court did not think them equally wise.
8. So his lordship decreed, with a grave, solemn tone,
Decisive and clear, without one if or but,
That whenever the Nose put his spectacles on,
By daylight or candlelight,--Eyes should be shut.. 作者: ououmama 时间: 2012-5-4 20:01 标题: 第五册 L58 蓝与灰THE BLUE AND THE GRAY
LVIII. THE BLUE AND THE GRAY.
1. By the flow of the inland river,
Whence the fleets of iron have fled,
Where the blades of the grave grass quiver,
Asleep are the ranks of the dead;¬--
Under the sod and the dew,
Waiting the judgment day;
Under the one, the Blue;
Under the other, the Gray.
2. These, in the robings of glory,
Those, in the gloom of defeat,
All, with the battle blood gory,
In the dusk of eternity meet;--
¬Under the sod and the dew,
Waiting the judgment day;
Under the laurel, the Blue;
Under the willow, the Gray.
3. From the silence of sorrowful hours,
The desolate mourners go,
Lovingly laden with flowers,
Alike for the friend and the foe;--
Under the sod and the dew,
Waiting the judgment day;
Under the roses, the Blue;
Under the lilies, the Gray.
4. So, with an equal splendor,
The morning sun rays fall,
With a touch, impartially tender,
On the blossoms blooming for all;¬--
Under the sod and the dew,
Waiting the judgment day;
Broidered with gold, the Blue;
Mellowed with gold, the Gray.
5. So, when the summer calleth,
On forest and field of grain,
With an equal murmur falleth
The cooling drip of the rain;--
Under the sod and the dew,
Waiting the judgment day;
Wet with the rain, the Blue;
Wet with the rain, the Gray.
6. Sadly, but not with upbraiding,
The generous deed was done:
In the storm of the years that are fading,
No braver battle was won;--
Under the sod and the dew,
Waiting the judgment day;
Under the blossoms, the Blue;
Under the garlands, the Gray.
7. No more shall the war cry sever,
Or the winding rivers be red;
They banish our anger forever,
When they laurel the graves of our dead;--
¬Under the sod and the dew,
Waiting the judgment day;
Love and tears, for the Blue;
Tears and love, for the Gray.
--F. M. Finch.
NOTE.--The above touching little poem first appeared in the "Atlantic Monthly" in September, 1867. It commemorates the noble action on the part of the women at Columbus, Miss., who in decorating the graves strewed flowers impartially on those of the Confederate and of the Federal soldiers.. 作者: ououmama 时间: 2012-5-4 20:03 标题: 第五册 L60 MAKE WAY FOR LIBERTY 请给自由让路
LX. MAKE WAY FOR LIBERTY.
James Montgomery (b. 1771, d. 1854) was born in Irvine, Ayrshire, Scotland. His father, a Moravian preacher, sent him to a Moravian school at Fulneck, Yorkshire, England, to be educated. In 1794 he started "The Sheffield Iris," a weekly paper, which he edited, with marked ability, till 1825. He was fined and imprisoned twice for publishing articles decided to be seditious. His principal poetical works are "The World before the Flood," "Greenland," "The West Indies," "The Wan¬derer in Switzerland," "The Pelican Island," and "Original Hymns, for Public, Private, and Social Devotion." Mr. Montgomery's style is generally too diffuse; but its smoothness and the evident sincerity of his emotions have made many of his hymns and minor poems very popular. A pension of £300 a year was granted to him in 1833.
1. "Make way for Liberty!" he cried;
Made way for Liberty, and died!
2.In arms the Austrian phalanx stood,
A living wall, a human wood!
A wall, where every conscious stone
Seemed to its kindred thousands grown;
A rampart all assaults to bear,
Till time to dust their frames should wear
A wood like that enchanted grove,
In which, with fiends, Rinaldo strove,
Where every silent tree possessed
A spirit prisoned in its breast,
Which the first stroke of coming strife
Would startle into hideous life:
So dense, so still, the Austrians stood,
A living wall, a human wood!
3. Impregnable their front appears,
All horrent with projected spears,
Whose polished points before them shine,
From flank to flank, one brilliant line,
Bright as the breakers' splendors run
Along the billows to the sun.
4.Opposed to these, a hovering band,
Contending for their native laud;
Peasants, whose new-found strength had broke
From manly necks the ignoble yoke,
And forged their fetters into swords,
On equal terms to fight their lords;
And what insurgent rage had gained,
In many a mortal fray maintained:
Marshaled once more at Freedom's call,
They came to conquer or to fall,
Where he who conquered, he who fell.
Was deemed a dead or living Tell!
5. And now the work of life and death
Hung on the passing of a breath;
The fire of conflict burned within;
The battle trembled to begin;
Yet, while the Austrians held their ground,
Point for attack was nowhere found;
Where'er the impatient Switzers gazed,
The unbroken line of lances blazed;
That line 't were suicide to meet,
And perish at their tyrants' feet;
How could they rest within their graves,
And leave their homes the home of slaves?
Would they not feel their children tread
With clanking chains above their head?
6.It must not be: this day, this hour,
Annihilates the oppressor's power
All Switzerland is in the field,
She will not fly, she can not yield;
Few were the numbers she could boast,
But every freeman was a host,
And felt as though himself were he
On whose sole arm hung victory.
7.It did depend on one, indeed:
Behold him! Arnold Winkelried!
There sounds not to the trump of fame
The echo of a nobler name.
Unmarked he stood amid the throng,
In rumination deep and long,
Till you might see with sudden grace,
The very thought come o'er his face;
And by the motion of his form:
Anticipate the bursting storm;
And by the uplifting of his brow,
Tell where the bolt would strike, and how.
But 't was no sooner thought than done;
The field was in a moment won.
8. "Make way for Liberty!" he cried:
Then ran, with arms extended wide,
As if his dearest friend to clasp;
Ten spears he swept within his grasp:
"Make way for Liberty!" he cried,
Their keen points met from side to side;
He bowed among them like a tree,
And thus made way for Liberty.
9. Swift to the breach his comrades fly;
"Make way for Liberty!" they cry,
And through the Austrian phalanx dart,
As rushed the spears through Arnold's heart;
While instantaneous as his fall,
Rout, ruin, panic, scattered all.
An earthquake could not overthrow
A city with a surer blow.
10.Thus Switzerland again was free,
Thus Death made way for Liberty!
NOTES.--The incident related in this poem is one of actual occurrence, and took place at the battle of Sempach, fought in 1386 A.D., between only 1,300 Swiss and a large army of Austrians. The latter had obtained possession of a narrow pass in the mountains, from which it seemed impossible to dislodge them until Arnold von Winkelried made a breach in their line, as narrated.
Rinaldo is a knight in Tasso's "Jerusalem Delivered" (Canto XVIII, 17-40), who enters an enchanted wood, and, by cutting down a tree in spite of the nymphs and phantoms that endeavor in every way to stop him, breaks the spell; the Christian army are thus enabled to enter the grove and obtain timber for their engines of war.. 作者: ououmama 时间: 2012-5-4 20:05 标题: 第五册 L62 HOW SLEEP THE BRAVE 勇士如何安睡
LXII. HOW SLEEP THE BRAVE.
William Collins (b. 1721, d. 1759) was born at Chichester, England. He was educated at Winchester and Oxford. About 1745, he went to London as a literary adventurer, and there won the esteem of Dr. Johnson. His "Odes" were published in 1746, but were not popular. He was subsequently relieved from pecuniary embarrassment by a legacy of £2,000 from a maternal uncle; but he soon became partially insane, and was for some time confined in an asylum for lunatics. He afterwards retired to Chichester, where he was cared for by his sister until his death.
1.How sleep the brave who sink to rest
By all their country's wishes blessed!
When Spring, with dewy fingers cold,
Returns to deck their hallowed mold,
She there shall dress a sweeter sod
Than Fancy's feet have ever trod.
2. By fairy hands their knell is rung;
By forms unseen their dirge is sung;
There honor comes a pilgrim gray,
To bless the turf that wraps their clay;
And Freedom shall awhile repair
To dwell a weeping hermit there!. 作者: ououmama 时间: 2012-5-4 20:06 标题: 第五册 L63 THE RAINBOW 彩虹
LXIII. THE RAINBOW.
John Keble (b. 1792. d. 1866) was born near Fairfax, Gloucestershire, England. He graduated at Oxford with remarkably high honors, and afterwards was appointed to the professorship of poetry in that uni¬versity. Since his death, Keble College, at Oxford, has been erected to his memory. In 1835, he became vicar of Hursley and rector of Otter¬bourne, and held these livings until his death. His most famous work is "The Christian Year," a collection of sacred poems.
1. A fragment of a rainbow bright
Through the moist air I see,
All dark and damp on yonder height,
All bright and clear to me.
2. An hour ago the storm was here,
The gleam was far behind;
So will our joys and grief appear,
When earth has ceased to blind.
3. Grief will be joy if on its edge
Fall soft that holiest ray,
Joy will be grief if no faint pledge
Be there of heavenly day.. 作者: ououmama 时间: 2012-5-4 20:09 标题: 第五册 L65 THE RISING 呐喊震天
LXV. THE RISING.
Thomas Buchanan Read (b. 1822, d. 1872) was born in Chester County, Pennsylvania. In 1839 he entered a sculptor's studio in Cincinnati, where he gained reputation as a portrait painter. He afterwards went to New York, Boston, and Philadelphia, and, in 1850, to Italy. He divided his time between Cincinnati, Philadelphia, and Rome, in the latter years of his life. Some or his poems are marked by vigor and strength, while others are distinguished by smoothness and delicacy. The following selection is abridged from "The Wagoner of the Alleghanies."
1. Out of the North the wild news came,
Far flashing on its wings of flame,
Swift as the boreal light which flies
At midnight through the startled skies.
2. And there was tumult in the air,
The fife's shrill note, the drum's loud beat,
And through the wide land everywhere
The answering tread of hurrying feet,
While the first oath of Freedom's gun
Came on the blast from Lexington.
And Concord, roused, no longer tame,
Forgot her old baptismal name,
Made bare her patriot arm of power,
And swelled the discord of the hour.
3. The yeoman and the yoeman's son,
With knitted brows and sturdy dint,
Renewed the polish of each gun,
Recoiled the lock, reset the flint;
And oft the maid and matron there,
While kneeling in the firelight glare,
Long poured, with half-suspended breath,
The lead into the molds of death.
4. The hands by Heaven made silken soft
To soothe the brow of love or pain,
Alas! are dulled and soiled too oft
By some unhallowed earthly stain;
But under the celestial bound
No nobler picture can be found
Than woman, brave in word and deed,
Thus serving in her nation's need:
Her love is with her country now,
Her hand is on its aching brow.
5. Within its shade of elm and oak
The church of Berkley Manor stood:
There Sunday found the rural folk,
And some esteemed of gentle blood,
In vain their feet with loitering tread
Passed 'mid the graves where rank is naught:
All could not read the lesson taught
In that republic of the dead.
6. The pastor rose: the prayer was strong;
The psalm was warrior David's song;
The text, a few short words of might,¬--
"The Lord of hosts shall arm the right!"
7. He spoke of wrongs too long endured,
Of sacred rights to be secured;
Then from his patriot tongue of flame
The startling words for Freedom came.
The stirring sentences he spake
Compelled the heart to glow or quake,
And, rising on his theme's broad wing,
And grasping in his nervous hand
The imaginary battle brand,
In face of death he dared to fling
Defiance to a tyrant king.
8. Even as he spoke, his frame, renewed
In eloquence of attitude,
Rose, as it seemed, a shoulder higher;
Then swept his kindling glance of fire
From startled pew to breathless choir;
When suddenly his mantle wide
His hands impatient flung aside,
And, lo! he met their wondering eyes
Complete in all a warrior's guise.
9. A moment there was awful pause,--
When Berkley cried, "Cease, traitor! cease!
God's temple is the house of peace!"
The other shouted, "Nay, not so,
When God is with our righteous cause:
His holiest places then are ours,
His temples are our forts and towers
That frown upon the tyrant foe:
In this the dawn of Freedom's day
There is a time to fight and pray!"
10. And now before the open door--
The warrior priest had ordered so--
¬The enlisting trumpet's sudden soar
Rang through the chapel, o'er and o'er,
Its long reverberating blow,
So loud and clear, it seemed the ear
Of dusty death must wake and hear.
And there the startling drum and fife
Fired the living with fiercer life;
While overhead with wild increase,
Forgetting its ancient toll of peace,
The great bell swung as ne'er before:
It seemed as it would never cease;
And every word its ardor flung
From off its jubilant iron tongue
Was, "WAR! WAR! WAR!"
11. "Who dares"--this was the patriot's cry,
As striding from the desk he came¬--
"Come out with me, in Freedom's name,
For her to live, for her to die?"
A hundred hands flung up reply,
A hundred voices answered "I!"
NOTES.--2. Forgot her ... name. The reference is to the meaning of the word "concord,"--harmony, union.
4. Celestial bound; i.e., the sky, heaven.
6. The pastor. This was John Peter Gabriel Muhlenberg, who was at this time a minister at Woodstock, in Virginia. He was a leading spirit among those opposed to Great Britain, and in 1775 he was elected colonel of a Virginia regiment. The above poem describes his farewell sermon. At its close he threw off his ministerial gown, and appeared in full regimental dress. Almost every man in the congregation enlisted under him at the church door. Muhlenberg became a well-known general in the Revolution, and after the war served his country in Congress and in various official positions.. 作者: ououmama 时间: 2012-5-4 20:12 标题: 第五册 L70 THE HERITAGE 遗产
LXX. THE HERITAGE.
James Russell Lowell (b. 1819, d.1891) was born in Cambridge, Mass., and was graduated from Harvard College. He entered the profession of law; but, in 1843, turned aside to publish "The Pioneer, a Literary and Critical Magazine." In 1855 he was appointed professor of Belles-lettres in Harvard College. From 1877 to 1885 he was U.S. Minister, first to Spain, afterwards to Great Britain. Lowell's powers as a writer were very versatile, and his poems range from the most dreamy and imaginative to the most trenchant and witty. Among his most noted poetical works are "The Biglow Papers," "A Fable for Critics," "The Vision of Sir Launfal," "The Cathedral," and "The Legend of Brittany;" while "Conversations on some of the Old Poets," "Among my Books," and "My Study Windows," place him in the front rank as an essayist.
1. The rich man's son inherits lands,
And piles of brick, and stone, and gold,
And he inherits soft white hands,
And tender flesh that fears the cold,
Nor dares to wear a garment old;
A heritage, it seems to me,
One scarce would wish to hold in fee.
2. The rich man's son inherits cares;
The bank may break, the factory burn,
A breath may burst his bubble shares,
And soft white hands could hardly earn
A living that would serve his turn;
A heritage, it seems to me,
One scarce would wish to hold in fee.
3. The rich man's son inherits wants,
His stomach craves for dainty fare;
With sated heart, he hears the pants
Of toiling hinds with brown arms bare!
And wearies in his easy-chair;
A heritage, it seems to me,
One scarce would wish to hold in fee.
4. What doth the poor man's son inherit?
Stout muscles and a sinewy heart,
A hardy frame, a hardier spirit;
King of two hands, he does his part
In every useful toil and art;
A heritage, it seems to me,
A king might wish to hold in fee.
5. What doth the poor man's son inherit?
Wishes o'erjoyed with humble things,
A rank adjudged by toil-won merit,
Content that from employment springs,
A heart that in his labor sings;
A heritage, it seems to me,
A king might wish to hold in fee.
6. What doth the poor man's son inherit?
A patience learned of being poor,
Courage, if sorrow come, to bear it,
A fellow-feeling that is sure
To make the outcast bless his door;
A heritage, it seems to me,
A king might wish to hold in fee.
7. O rich man's son! there is a toil
That with all others level stands:
Large charity doth never soil,
But only whiten soft, white hands,--
This is the best crop from thy lands;
A heritage, it seems to me,
Worth being rich to hold in fee.
8. O poor man's son! scorn not thy state;
There is worse weariness than thine
In merely being rich and great:
Toil only gives the soul to shine,
And makes rest fragrant and benign;
A heritage, it seems to me,
Worth being poor to hold in fee.
9. Both, heirs to some six feet of sod,
Are equal in the earth at last;
Both, children of the same dear God,
Prove title to your heirship vast
By record of a well-filled past;
A heritage, it seems to me,
Well worth a life to hold in fee.
NOTES.--1. To hold in fee, means to have as an inheritance. 9. Prove title. That is, to prove the right of ownership.. 作者: ououmama 时间: 2012-5-4 20:14 标题: 第五册 L72 THE OLD HOUSE CLOCK 老钟
LXXII. THE OLD HOUSE CLOCK.
1. Oh! the old, old clock of the household stock,
Was the brightest thing, and neatest;
Its hands, though old, had a touch of gold,
And its chimes rang still the sweetest;
'T was a monitor, too, though its words were few,
Yet they lived, though nations altered;
And its voice, still strong, warned old and young,
When the voice of friendship faltered:
"Tick! tick!" it said, "quick, quick, to bed:
For ten I've given warning;
Up! up! and go, or else you know,
You'll never rise soon in the morning!"
2. A friendly voice was that old, old clock,
As it stood in the corner smiling,
And blessed the time with merry chime,
The wintry hours beguiling;
But a cross old voice was that tiresome clock,
As it called at daybreak boldly;
When the dawn looked gray o'er the misty way,
And the early air looked coldly:
"Tick! tick!" it said, "quick out of bed:
For five I've given warning;
You'll never have health, you'll never have wealth,
Unless you're up soon in the morning!"
3. Still hourly the sound goes round and round,
With a tone that ceases never:
While tears are shed for bright days fled,
And the old friends lost forever!
Its heart beats on, though hearts are gone
That beat like ours, though stronger;
Its hands still move, though hands we love
Are clasped on earth no longer!
"Tick! tick!" it said, "to the churchyard bed,
The grave hath given warning;
Up! up! and rise, and look at the skies,
And prepare for a heavenly morning!". 作者: ououmama 时间: 2012-5-4 20:16 标题: 第五册 L74 THE ISLE OF LONG AGO.很久以前的小岛
LXXIV. THE ISLE OF LONG AGO.
Benjamin Franklin Taylor (b. 1819, d. 1887) was born at Lowville, N.Y. He graduated at Madison University, of which his father was president. In 1845 he published "Attractions of Language." For many years he was literary editor of the "Chicago Journal." Mr. Taylor wrote considerably for the magazines, was the author of many well-known favorite pieces both in prose and verse, and achieved success as a lecturer.
1. Oh, a wonderful stream is the river of Time,
As it runs through the realm of tears,
With a faultless rhythm and a musical rhyme,
And a boundless sweep and a surge sublime,
As it blends with the ocean of Years.
2. How the winters are drifting, like flakes of snow,
And the summers, like buds between;
And the year in the sheaf--so they come and they go,
On the river's breast, with its ebb and flow,
As it glides in the shadow and sheen.
3. There's a magical isle up the river of Time,
Where the softest of airs are playing;
There's a cloudless sky and a tropical clime,
And a song as sweet as a vesper chime,
And the Junes with the roses are staying.
4. And the name of that isle is the Long Ago,
And we bury our treasures there;
There are brows of beauty and bosoms of snow¬--
There are heaps of dust--but we love them so!--
There are trinkets and tresses of hair;
5. There are fragments of song that nobody sings,
And a part of an infant's prayer,
There's a lute unswept, and a harp without strings;
There are broken vows and pieces of rings,
And the garments that she used to wear.
6. There are hands that are waved, when the fairy shore
By the mirage is lifted in air;
And we sometimes hear, through the turbulent roar,
Sweet voices we heard in the days gone before,
When the wind down the river is fair.
7. Oh, remembered for aye be the blessed Isle,
All the day of our life till night--
When the evening comes with its beautiful smile,
And our eyes are closing to slumber awhile,
May that "Greenwood." of Soul be in sight
NOTES.--5. A lute unswept, that is, unplayed.
7. Greenwood is a notes and very beautiful cemetery at the southern extremity of Brooklyn, N.Y. The expression means, then, the resting place of the soul.. 作者: ououmama 时间: 2012-5-4 20:17 标题: 第五册 L76 DEATH OF THE BEAUTIFUL 美丽的死亡
LXXVI. DEATH OF THE BEAUTIFUL.
Eliza Lee Fallen (b. 1787, d. 1859) was born in Boston, Mass. Her maiden name was Cabott. In 1828, she married Charles Follen, Professor of the German language and its literature in Harvard University. Her principal works are "Sketches of Married Life," "The Skeptic," "Twilight Stories," and "Little Songs." For several years Mrs. Follen was editor of the "Children's Friend."
1. The young, the lovely, pass away,
Ne'er to be seen again;
Earth's fairest flowers too soon decay,
Its blasted trees remain.
2. Full oft, we see the brightest thing
That lifts its head on high,
Smile in the light, then droop its wing,
And fade away and die.
3. And kindly is the lesson given;
Then dry the falling tear:
They came to raise our hearts to Heaven;
They go to call us there.. 作者: ououmama 时间: 2012-5-4 20:18 标题: 第五册 L77 SNOW FALLING 雪落
LXXVII. SNOW FALLING.
John James Piatt (b. 1835,--) was born in Dearborn County, Ind., and is of French descent. He began to write verses at the age of fourteen, and has been connected editorially with several papers. Several editions of his poems have been issued from time to time, each edition usually containing some additional poems. Of these volumes we may mention: "Poems in Sunshine and Firelight," "Western Windows," "The Lost Farm," and "Poems of House and Home."
1. The wonderful snow is falling
Over river and woodland and wold;
The trees bear spectral blossom
In the moonshine blurr'd and cold.
2. There's a beautiful garden in Heaven;
And these are the banished flowers,
Falling and driven and drifted
Into this dark world of ours.. 作者: ououmama 时间: 2012-5-4 20:20 标题: 第五册 L79 THE GIFT OF EMPTY HANDS 两手空空的礼物
LXXIX. THE GIFT OF EMPTY HANDS.
Mrs. S. M. B. Piatt (b, 1835,--) was born near Lexington, Ky.
While still a young girl she began to write poetry, which was well received. In 1861 she was married to the poet John James Piatt. Mrs. Piatt's poetry is marked by tender pathos, thoughtfulness, and musical flow of rhythm. The following selection is from "That New World."
1. They were two princes doomed to death;
Each loved his beauty and his breath:
"Leave us our life and we will bring
Fair gifts unto our lord, the king."
2. They went together. In the dew
A charmed bird before them flew.
Through sun and thorn one followed it;
Upon the other's arm it lit.
3. A rose, whose faintest flush was worth
All buds that ever blew on earth,
One climbed the rocks to reach; ah, well,
Into the other's breast it fell.
4. Weird jewels, such as fairies wear,
When moons go out, to light their hair,
One tried to touch on ghostly ground;
Gems of quick fire the other found.
5. One with the dragon fought to gain
The enchanted fruit, and fought in vain;
The other breathed the garden's air
And gathered precious apples there.
6. Backward to the imperial gate
One took his fortune, one his fate:
One showed sweet gifts from sweetest lands,
The other, torn and empty hands.
7. At bird, and rose, and gem, and fruit,
The king was sad, the king was mute;
At last he slowly said: "My son,
True treasure is not lightly won.
8. Your brother's hands, wherein you see
Only these scars, show more to me
Than if a kingdom's price I found
In place of each forgotten wound.". 作者: ououmama 时间: 2012-5-4 20:22 标题: 第五册 L81 SOWING AND REAPING 播种与收获
LXXXI. SOWING AND REAPING.
Adelaide Anne Procter (b. 1825, d. 1864) was the daughter of Bryan Waller Procter (better known as "Barry Cornwall "), a celebrated English poet, living in London. Miss Procter's first volume, "Legends and Lyrics," appeared in 1858, and met with great success; it was republished in this country. A second series, under the same name, was published in 1860; and in 1862 both series were republished with additional poems, and an introduction by Charles Dickens. In 1861 Miss Procter edited "Victoria Regia," a collection of poetical pieces, to which she contributed; and in 1862 "A Chaplet of Verses," composed of her own poems, was published. Besides these volumes, she contributed largely to various magazines and periodicals.
1. Sow with a generous hand;
Pause not for toil and pain;
Weary not through the heat of summer,
Weary not through the cold spring rain;
But wait till the autumn comes
For the sheaves of golden grain.
2. Scatter the seed, and fear not,
A table will be spread;
What matter if you are too weary
To eat your hard-earned bread;
Sow, while the earth is broken,
For the hungry must be fed.
3. Sow;--while the seeds are lying
In the warm earth's bosom deep,
And your warm tears fall upon it¬--
They will stir in their quiet sleep,
And the green blades rise the quicker,
Perchance, for the tears you weep.
4. Then sow;--for the hours are fleeting,
And the seed must fall to-day;
And care not what hand shall reap it,
Or if you shall have passed away
Before the waving cornfields
Shall gladden the sunny day.
5. Sow;--and look onward, upward,
Where the starry light appears,¬--
Where, in spite of the coward's doubting,
Or your own heart's trembling fears,
You shall reap in joy the harvest
You have sown to-day in tears.. 作者: ououmama 时间: 2012-5-4 20:23 标题: 第五册 L83CALLING THE ROLL 点名
LXXXIII. CALLING THE ROLL.
1. "CORPORAL GREEN!" the orderly cried;
"Here!" was the answer, loud and clear,
From the lips of a soldier standing near;
And "here!" was the word the next replied.
"Cyrus Drew!" and a silence fell;
This time no answer followed the call;
Only his rear man saw him fall,
Killed or wounded he could not tell.
2. There they stood in the fading light,
These men of battle, with grave, dark looks,
As plain to be read as open books,
While slowly gathered the shades of night.
The fern on the slope was splashed with blood,
And down in the corn, where the poppies grew,
Were redder stains than the poppies knew;
And crimson-dyed was the river's flood.
3. For the foe had crossed from the other side
That day, in the face of a murderous fire
That swept them down in its terrible ire;
And their lifeblood went to color the tide.
"Herbert Cline!" At the call there came
Two stalwart soldiers into the line,
Bearing between them Herbert Cline,
Wounded and bleeding, to answer his name.
4. "Ezra Kerr!" and a voice said "here!"
"Hiram Kerr!" but no man replied:
They were brothers, these two; the sad wind sighed,
And a shudder crept through the cornfield near.
"Ephraim Deane!"--then a soldier spoke:
"Deane carried our regiment's colors," he said,
"When our ensign was shot; I left him dead,
Just after the enemy wavered and broke.
5. "Close to the roadside his body lies;
I paused a moment and gave him to drink;
He murmured his mother's name, I think;
And death came with it and closed his eyes."
'T was a victory--yes; but it cost us dear;
For that company's roll, when called at night,
Of a hundred men who went into the fight,
Numbered but twenty that answered "here!"
--Shepherd.. 作者: ououmama 时间: 2012-5-4 20:25 标题: 第五册 L87 THE WINGED WORSHIPERS 天使
LXXXVII. THE WINGED WORSHIPERS.
Charles Sprague (b. 1791, d. 1875) was born in Boston, Mass. He engaged in mercantile business when quite young, leaving school for that purpose. In 1825, he was elected cashier of the Globe Bank of Bos¬ton, which position he held until 1864. Mr. Sprague has not been a prolific writer; but his poems, though few in number, are deservedly classed among the best productions of American poets. His chief poem is entitled "Curiosity."
1. Gay, guiltless pair,
What seek ye from the fields of heaven?
Ye have no need of prayer,
Ye have no sins to be forgiven.
2. Why perch ye here,
Where mortals to their Maker bend?
Can your pure spirits fear
The God ye never could offend?
3. Ye never knew
The crimes for which we come to weep;
Penance is not for you,
Blessed wanderers of the upper deep.
4. To you 't is given
To wake sweet Nature's untaught lays;
Beneath the arch of heaven
To chirp away a life of praise.
5. Then spread each wing,
Far, far above, o'er lakes and lands,
And join the choirs that sing
In yon blue dome not reared with hands.
6. Or, if ye stay
To note the consecrated hour,
Teach me the airy way,
And let me try your envied power.
7. Above the crowd,
On upward wings could I but fly,
I'd bathe in yon bright cloud,
And seek the stars that gem the sky.
8. 'T were Heaven indeed,
Through fields of trackless light to soar,
On Nature's charms to feed,
And Nature's own great God adore.. 作者: ououmama 时间: 2012-5-4 20:27 标题: 第五册 L89 THE RAINY DAY 雨天
LXXXIX. THE RAINY DAY.
1. The day is cold, and dark, and dreary;
It rains, and the wind is never weary;
The vine still clings to the moldering wall,
But at every gust the dead leaves fall.
And the day is dark and dreary.
2. My life is cold, and dark, and dreary;
It rains, and the wind is never weary;
My thoughts still cling to the moldering Past,
But the hopes of youth fall thick in the blast,
And the days are dark and dreary.
3. Be still, sad heart! and cease repining;
Behind the clouds is the sun still shining;
Thy fate is the common fate of all,
Into each life some rain must fall,
Some days must be dark and dreary.
--朗费罗Longfellow.. 作者: ououmama 时间: 2012-5-4 20:29 标题: 第五册 L90 BREAK, BREAK, BREAK 万马千钧
XC. BREAK, BREAK, BREAK.
丁尼生·
Alfred Tennyson (b. 1809, d. 1892) was born in Somersby, Lincolnshire, England. He graduated at Trinity College, Cambridge. His first volume of poems was published in 1830, but it made little impression and was severely criticised. On the publication of his third series in 1842, his poetic genius began to receive general recognition. Mr. Tennyson was made poet laureate in 1850, and was regarded as the foremost living poet of England. For several years his residence was on the Isle of Wight. In 1884, he was raised to the peerage.
1. Break, break, break,
On thy cold gray stones, O sea!
And I would that my tongue could utter
The thoughts that arise in me.
2. Oh, well for the fisherman's boy,
That he shouts with his sister at play!
Oh, well for the sailor lad,
That he sings in his boat on the bay!
3. And the stately ships go on
To their haven under the hill;
But oh for the touch of a vanished hand,
And the sound of a voice that is still!
4. Break, break, break,
At the foot of thy crags, O sea!
But the tender grace of a day that is dead
Will never come back to me.. 作者: ououmama 时间: 2012-5-4 20:32 标题: 第五册 L92 SPRING AGAIN.又见春天
XCII. SPRING AGAIN.
Celia Thaxter (b. 1836, d. 1894), whose maiden name was Laighton, was born in Portsmouth, N.H. Much of her early life was passed on White Island, one of a group of small islands, called the Isles of Shoals, about ten miles from the shore, where she lived in the lighthouse cottage. In 1867-68, she published, in the "Atlantic Monthly," a number of papers on these islands, which were afterwards bound in a separate volume. Mrs. Thaxter was a contributor to several periodicals, and in strength and beauty of style has few equals among American writers. The following selection is from a volume of her poems entitled "Drift Weed."
1. I stood on the height in the stillness
And the planet's outline scanned,
And half was drawn with the line of sea
And half with the far blue land.
2. With wings that caught the sunshine
In the crystal deeps of the sky,
Like shapes of dreams, the gleaming gulls
Went slowly floating by.
3. Below me the boats in the harbor
Lay still, with their white sails furled;
Sighing away into silence,
The breeze died off the world.
4. On the weather-worn, ancient ledges
Peaceful the calm light slept;
And the chilly shadows, lengthening,
Slow to the eastward crept.
5. The snow still lay in the hollows,
And where the salt waves met
The iron rock, all ghastly white
The thick ice glimmered yet.
6. But the smile of the sun was kinder,
The touch of the air was sweet;
The pulse of the cruel ocean seemed
Like a human heart to beat.
7. Frost-locked, storm-beaten, and lonely,
In the midst of the wintry main,
Our bleak rock yet the tidings heard:
"There shall be spring again!"
8. Worth all the waiting and watching,
The woe that the winter wrought,
Was the passion of gratitude that shook
My soul at the blissful thought!
9. Soft rain and flowers and sunshine,
Sweet winds and brooding skies,
Quick-flitting birds to fill the air
With clear delicious cries;
10. And the warm sea's mellow murmur
Resounding day and night;
A thousand shapes and tints and tones
Of manifold delight,
11. Nearer and ever nearer
Drawing with every day!
But a little longer to wait and watch
'Neath skies so cold and gray;
12. And hushed is the roar of the bitter north
Before the might of the spring,
And up the frozen slope of the world
Climbs summer, triumphing.. 作者: ououmama 时间: 2012-5-4 20:36 标题: 第五册 L94 ROCK ME TO SLEEP 在摇篮中安睡
XCIV. ROCK ME TO SLEEP.
Elizabeth Akers Allen (b. 1832,--) was born at Strong, Maine, and passed her childhood amidst the picturesque scenery of that neigh¬borhood. She lost her mother when very young, but inherited her grace and delicacy of thought. Shortly after her mother's death, her father removed to Farmington, Maine, a town noted for its literary people. Mrs. Allen's early pieces appeared over the pseudonym of "Florence Percy." Her first verses appeared when she was twelve years old; and her first volume, entitled "Forest Buds from the Woods of Maine," was Published in 1856. For some years she was assistant editor of the "Portland Transcript." The following selection was claimed by five different persons, who attempted to steal the honor of its composition.
1. Backward, turn backward, O Time, in your flight,
Make me a child again, just for to-night!
Mother, come back from the echoless shore,
Take me again to your heart as of yore;
Kiss from my forehead the furrows of care,
Smooth the few silver threads out of my hair;
Over my slumbers your loving watch keep;--
¬Rock me to sleep, mother,--rock me to sleep!
2. Backward, flow backward, O tide of the years!
I am so weary of toil and of tears;
Toil without recompense, tears all in vain;
Take them, and give me my childhood again!
I have grown weary of dust and decay,--
Weary of flinging my soul wealth away;
Weary of sowing for others to reap;--
Rock me to sleep, mother,--rock me to sleep!
3. Tired of the hollow, the base, the untrue,
Mother, O mother, my heart calls for you!
Many a summer the grass has grown green,
Blossomed and faded, our faces between:
Yet with strong yearning and passionate pain,
Long I to-night for your presence again.
Come from the silence so long and so deep;--
Rock me to sleep, mother,--rock me to sleep!
4. Over my heart in the days that are flown,
No love like mother love ever has shone;
No other worship abides and endures,
Faithful, unselfish, and patient like yours:
None like a mother can charm away pain
From the sick soul, and the world-weary brain.
Slumber's soft calms o'er my heavy lids creep;--
¬Rock me to sleep, mother,--rock me to sleep!
5. Come, let your brown hair, just lighted with gold,
Fall on your shoulders again, as of old;
Let it drop over my forehead to-night,
Shading my faint eyes away from the light;
For with its sunny-edged shadows once more,
Haply will throng the sweet visions of yore;
Lovingly, softly, its bright billows sweep;--
Rock me to sleep, mother,--rock me to sleep!
6. Mother, dear mother, the years have been long
Since I last listened your lullaby song;
Sing, then, and unto my soul it shall seem
Womanhood's years have been only a dream!
Clasped to your heart in a loving embrace,
With your light lashes just sweeping my face,
Never hereafter to wake or to weep:--
Rock me to sleep, mother,--rock me to sleep!. 作者: ououmama 时间: 2012-5-4 20:38 标题: 第五册 L96 THE BLIND MEN AND THE ELEPHANT 盲人摸象
XCVI. THE BLIND MEN AND THE ELEPHANT.
John Godfrey Saxe (b. 1816, d.1887), an American humorist, lawyer, and journalist, was born at Highgate, Vt. He graduated at Middlebury College in 1839; was admitted to the bar in 1843; and practiced law until 1850, when he became editor of the "Burlington Sentinel." In 1851, he was elected State's attorney. "Progress, a Satire, and Other Poems," his first volume, was published in 1849, and several other volumes of great merit attest his originality. For genial humor and good-natured satire, Saxe's writings rank among the best of their kind, and are very popular.
1. It was six men of Indostan,
To learning much inclined,
Who went to see the elephant,
(Though all of them were blind,)
That each by observation
Might satisfy his mind.
2. The first approached the elephant,
And, happening to fall
Against his broad and sturdy side,
At once began to bawl:
"God bless me! but the elephant
Is very like a wall!"
3. The second, feeling of the tusk,
Cried: "Ha! what have we here,
So very round, and smooth, and sharp?
To me 't is very clear,
This wonder of an elephant
Is very like a spear!"
4. The third approached the animal,
And, happening to take
The squirming trunk within his hands,
Thus boldly up he spake:
"I see," quoth he, "the elephant
Is very like a snake!"
5. The fourth reached out his eager hand,
And fell about the knee:
"What most this wondrous beast is like,
Is very plain," quoth he;
" 'T is clear enough the elephant
Is very like a tree!"
6. The fifth, who chanced to touch the ear,
Said: "E'en the blindest man
Can tell what this resembles most:
Deny the fact who can,
This marvel of an elephant
Is very like a fan!"
7. The sixth no sooner had begun
About the beast to grope,
Than, seizing on the swinging tail
That fell within his scope,
"I see," quoth he, "the elephant
Is very like a rope!"
8. And so these men of Indostan
Disputed loud and long,
Each in his own opinion
Exceeding stiff and strong,
Though each was partly in the right,
And all were in the wrong!. 作者: ououmama 时间: 2012-5-4 20:39 标题: 第五册 L98 THE LIGHT OF OTHER DAYS.昔日的光辉
XCVIII. THE LIGHT OF OTHER DAYS.
Thomas Moore (b. 1779. d. 1852) was born in Dublin, Ireland, and he was educated at Trinity College in that city. In 1799, he entered the Middle Temple, London, as a student of law. Soon after the publica¬tion of his first poetical productions, he was sent to Bermuda in an official capacity. He subsequently visited the United States. Moore's most famous works are: "Lalla Rookh," an Oriental romance, 1817; "The Loves of the Angels," 1823; and "Irish Melodies," 1834; a "Life of Lord Byron," and "The Epicurean, an Eastern Tale." "Moore's ex¬cellencies," says Dr. Angus, "consist in the gracefulness of his thoughts, the wit and fancy of his allusions and imagery, and the music and refinement of his versification."
1. Oft in the stilly night
Ere slumber's chain has bound me,
Fond memory brings the light
Of other days around me:
The smiles, the tears
Of boyhood's years,
The words of love then spoken;
The eyes that shone,
Now dimmed and gone,
The cheerful hearts now broken!
Thus in the stilly night
Ere slumber's chain has bound me,
Sad memory brings the light
Of other days around me.
2. When I remember all
The friends so linked together
I've seen around me fall
Like leaves in wintry weather,
I feel like one
Who treads alone
Some banquet hall deserted,
Whose lights are fled
Whose garlands dead,
And all but he departed.
Thus in the stilly night
Ere slumber's chain has bound me,
Sad memory brings the light
Of other days around me.. 作者: ououmama 时间: 2012-5-4 20:42 标题: L100 BURIAL OF SIR JOHN MOORE约翰 摩尔先生的葬礼
C. BURIAL OF SIR JOHN MOORE.
Charles Wolfe (b. 1791, d. 1823), an Irish poet and clergyman, was born in Dublin. He was educated in several schools, and graduated at the university of his native city. He was ordained in 1817, and soon became noted for his zeal and energy as a clergyman. His literary productions were collected and published in 1825. "The Burial of Sir John Moore," one of the finest poems of its kind in the English language, was written in 1817, and first appeared in the "Newry Telegraph," a newspaper, with the author's initials, but without his knowledge. Byron said of this ballad that he would rather be the author of it than of any one ever written.
1. Not a drum was heard, not a funeral note,
As his corse to the rampart we hurried;
Not a soldier discharged his farewell shot
O'er the grave where our hero we buried.
2. We buried him darkly, at dead of night,
The sods with our bayonets turning,
By the struggling moonbeam's misty light,
And the lantern dimly burning.
3. No useless coffin inclosed his breast,
Not in sheet nor in shroud we wound him;
But he lay like a warrior taking his rest,
With his martial cloak around him.
4. Few and short were the prayers we said,
And we spoke not a word of sorrow;
But we steadfastly gazed on the face of the dead
And we bitterly thought of the morrow.
5. We thought, as we hollowed his narrow bed,
And smoothed down his lonely pillow,
That the foe and the stranger would tread o'er his head,
And we far away on the billow!
6. Lightly they'll talk of the spirit that's gone
And o'er his cold ashes upbraid him;
But little he'll reck, if they'll let him sleep on
In a grave where a Briton has laid him.
7. But half of our heavy task was done,
When the clock struck the hour for retiring
And we heard the distant random gun
That the foe was sullenly firing.
8. Slowly and sadly we laid him down,
From the field of his fame, fresh and gory;
We carved not a line, we raised not a stone,
But we left him alone with his glory!
NOTE.--Sir John Moore (b. 1761, d. 1809) was a celebrated British general. He was appointed commander of the British forces in Spain, in the war against Napoleon, and fell at the battle of Corunna, by a cannon shot. Marshal Soult, the oppos¬ing French commander, caused a monument to be erected to his memory. The British government has also raised a monument to him in St. Paul's Cathedral, while his native city, Glasgow, honors him with a bronze statue.. 作者: ououmama 时间: 2012-5-4 20:44 标题: L102 THE CHARACTER OF A HAPPY LIFE幸福生活的特点
CII. THE CHARACTER OF A HAPPY LIFE.
Sir Henry Wotton (b. 1568, d. 1639) was born at Bocton Hall, Kent, England. He was educated at Winchester and Oxford. About 1598 he was taken into the service of the Earl of Essex, as one of his secretaries. On the Earl's committal to the Tower for treason, Wotton fled to France; but he returned to England immediately after the death of Elizabeth, and received the honor of knighthood. He was King James's favorite diplomatist, and, in 1623, was appointed provost of Eton College. Wotton wrote a number of prose works; but his literary reputation rests mainly on some short poems, which are distinguished by a dignity of thought and expression rarely excelled.
1. How happy is he born and taught,
That serveth not another's will;
Whose armor is his honest thought,
And simple truth his utmost skill!
2. Whose passions not his masters are,
Whose soul is still prepared for death,
Untied unto the worldly care
Of public fame, or private breath;
3. Who envies none that chance doth raise,
Or vice; who never understood
How deepest wounds are given by praise;
Nor rules of state, but rules of good:
4. Who hath his life from rumors freed,
Whose conscience is his strong retreat;
Whose state can neither flatterers feed,
Nor ruin make oppressors great;
5. Who God doth late and early pray,
More of his grace than gifts to lend;
And entertains the harmless day
With a religious book or friend.
6. This man is freed from servile bands,
Of hope to rise, or fear to fall;
Lord of himself, though not of lands;
And having nothing, yet hath all.. 作者: ououmama 时间: 2012-5-4 20:47 标题: 第五册 L104 THE MARINER'S DREAM. 水手的梦
THE MARINER'S DREAM.
William Dimond (b. 1780, d. 1837) was a dramatist and poet, living at Bath, England, where he was born and received his education. He afterwards studied for the bar in London. His literary productions are for the most part dramas, but he has also written a number of poems, among them the following:
1. In slumbers of midnight the sailor boy lay;
His hammock swung loose at the sport of the wind;
But watch-worn and weary, his cares flew away,
And visions of happiness danced o'er his mind.
2. He dreamed of his home, of his dear native bowers,
And pleasures that waited on life's merry morn;
While Memory each scene gayly covered with flowers,
And restored every rose, but secreted the thorn.
3. Then Fancy her magical pinions spread wide,
And bade the young dreamer in ecstasy rise;
Now, far, far behind him the green waters glide,
And the cot of his forefathers blesses his eyes.
4. The jessamine clambers in flowers o'er the thatch,
And the swallow chirps sweet from her nest in the wall;
All trembling with transport, he raises the latch,
And the voices of loved ones reply to his call.
5. A father bends o'er him with looks of delight;
His cheek is impearled with a mother's warm tear;
And the lips of the boy in a love kiss unite
With the lips of the maid whom his bosom holds dear.
6. The heart of the sleeper beats high in his breast;
Joy quickens his pulses,--all his hardships seem o'er;
And a murmur of happiness steals through his rest,--
"O God! thou hast blest me,--I ask for no more."
7. Ah! whence is that flame which now bursts on his eye?
Ah! what is that sound that now 'larums his ear?
'T is the lightning's red glare painting hell on the sky!
'T is the crashing of thunders, the groan of the sphere!
8. He springs from his hammock,--he flies to the deck;
Amazement confronts him with images dire;
Wild winds and mad waves drive the vessel a wreck;
The masts fly in splinters; the shrouds are on fire.
9. Like mountains the billows tremendously swell;
In vain the lost wretch calls on Mercy to save;
Unseen hands of spirits are ringing his knell,
And the death angel flaps his broad wings o'er the wave!
10. O sailor boy, woe to thy dream of delight!
In darkness dissolves the gay frostwork of bliss!
Where now is the picture that Fancy touched bright,¬--
Thy parents' fond pressure, and love's honeyed kiss?
11. O sailor boy! sailor boy! never again
Shall home, love, or kindred, thy wishes repay;
Unblessed and unhonored, down deep in the main,
Full many a fathom, thy frame shall decay.
12. No tomb shall e'er plead to remembrance for thee,
Or redeem form or fame from the merciless surge;
But the white foam of waves shall thy winding sheet be,
And winds in the midnight of winter thy dirge.
13. On a bed of green sea flowers thy limbs shall be laid,--
¬Around thy white bones the red coral shall grow;
Of thy fair yellow locks threads of amber be made,
And every part suit to thy mansion below.
14. Days, months, years, and ages shall circle away,
And still the vast waters above thee shall roll;
Earth loses thy pattern forever and aye;
O sailor boy! sailor boy! peace to thy soul!
NOTES.--13. Coral is the solid part of a minute sea animal, corresponding to the bones in other animals. It grows in many fantastic shapes, and is of various colors.
Amber is a yellow resin, and is the fossilized gum of buried trees. It is mined in several localities in Europe and America; it is also found along the seacoast, washed up by the waves.. 作者: ououmama 时间: 2012-5-4 20:48 标题: 第五册 L106 THE COUNTRY LIFE.乡村生活
THE COUNTRY LIFE.
Richard Henry Stoddard (b. 1825,--) was born at Hingham, Mass., but removed to New York City while quite young. His first volume of poems, "Foot-prints," appeared in 1849, and has been fol¬lowed by many others. Of these may be mentioned "Songs of Summer," "Town and Country," "The King's Bell," "Abraham Lincoln" (an ode), and the "Book of the East," from the last of which the follow¬ing selection is abridged. Mr. Stoddard's verses are full of genuine feel¬ing, and some of them show great poetic power.
1. Not what we would, but what we must,
Makes up the sum of living:
Heaven is both more and less than just,
In taking and in giving.
Swords cleave to hands that sought the plow,
And laurels miss the soldier's brow.
2. Me, whom the city holds, whose feet
Have worn its stony highways,
Familiar with its loneliest street,--
¬Its ways were never my ways.
My cradle was beside the sea,
And there, I hope, my grave will be.
3. Old homestead! in that old gray town
Thy vane is seaward blowing;
Thy slip of garden stretches down
To where the tide is flowing;
Below they lie, their sails all furled,
The ships that go about the world.
4. Dearer that little country house,
Inland with pines beside it;
Some peach trees, with unfruitful boughs,
A well, with weeds to hide it:
No flowers, or only such as rise
Self-sown--poor things!--which all despise.
5. Dear country home! can I forget
The least of thy sweet trifles?
The window vines that clamber yet,
Whose blooms the bee still rifles?
The roadside blackberries, growing ripe,
And in the woods the Indian pipe?
6. Happy the man who tills his field,
Content with rustic labor;
Earth does to him her fullness yield,
Hap what may to his neighbor.
Well days, sound nights--oh, can there be
A life more rational and free?
NOTE.--5. The Indian pipe is a little, white plant, bearing a white, bell-shaped flower.. 作者: ououmama 时间: 2012-5-4 20:51 标题: 第五册 L108 MINOT'S LEDGE 迈诺特的里奇
MINOT'S LEDGE.
Fitz-James O'Brien (b. 1828, d. 1862) was of Irish birth, and came to America in 1852. He has contributed a number of tales and poems to various periodicals, but his writings have never been collected in book form. Mr. O'Brien belonged to the New York Seventh Regiment, and died at Baltimore of a wound received in a cavalry skirmish.
1. Like spectral hounds across the sky,
The white clouds scud before the storm;
And naked in the howling night
The red-eyed lighthouse lifts its form.
The waves with slippery fingers clutch
The massive tower, and climb and fall,
And, muttering, growl with baffled rage
Their curses on the sturdy wall.
2. Up in the lonely tower he sits,
The keeper of the crimson light:
Silent and awe-struck does he hear
The imprecations of the night.
The white spray beats against the panes
Like some wet ghost that down the air
Is hunted by a troop of fiends,
And seeks a shelter anywhere.
3. He prays aloud, the lonely man,
For every soul that night at sea,
But more than all for that brave boy
Who used to gayly climb his knee,--
¬Young Charlie, with his chestnut hair,
And hazel eyes, and laughing lip.
"May Heaven look down," the old man cries.
"Upon my son, and on his ship!"
4. While thus with pious heart he prays,
Far in the distance sounds a boom:
He pauses; and again there rings
That sullen thunder through the room.
A ship upon the shoals to-night!
She cannot hold for one half hour;
But clear the ropes and grappling hooks,
And trust in the Almighty Power!
5. On the drenched gallery he stands,
Striving to pierce the solid night:
Across the sea the red eye throws
A steady crimson wake of light;
And, where it falls upon the waves,
He sees a human head float by,
With long drenched curls of chestnut hair,
And wild but fearless hazel eye.
6. Out with the hooks! One mighty fling!
Adown the wind the long rope curls.
Oh! will it catch? Ah, dread suspense!
While the wild ocean wilder whirls.
A steady pull; it tightens now:
Oh! his old heart will burst with joy,
As on the slippery rocks he pulls
The breathing body of his boy.
7. Still sweep the specters through the sky;
Still scud the clouds before the storm;
Still naked in the howling night
The red-eyed lighthouse lifts its form.
Without, the world is wild with rage;
Unkenneled demons are abroad;
But with the father and the son
Within, there is the peace of God.
NOTE.--Minot's Ledge (also called the "Cohasset Rocks") is a dangerous reef in Boston Harbor, eight miles southwest of Boston Light. It has a fixed light of its own, sixty-six feet high.. 作者: ououmama 时间: 2012-5-4 20:53 标题: 第五册L112 THE GREAT VOICES 伟大的声音
CXII. THE GREAT VOICES.
Charles T. Brooks (b. 1813, d. 1833)[1] was born at Salem, Mass., and was the valedictorian of his class at Harvard College, where he graduated in 1832. He shortly afterwards entered the ministry, and had charge of a congregation at Newport, R.I. He was a great student of German literature, and began his own literary career by a translations of Schiller's "William Tell." This was followed by numerous translations from the German, mainly poetry, which have been published from time to time, in several volumes. Of these translations, Goethe's "Faust," Richter's "Titan" and "Hesperus," and a humorous poem by Dr. Karl Arnold Kortum, "The Life, Opinions, Actions, and Fate of Hieronimus Jobs, the Candidate," deserve especial mention. Mr. Brooks also published a number of original poems, addresses, etc.
1. A voice from the sea to the mountains,
From the mountains again to the sea;
A call from the deep to the fountains,--
¬"O spirit! be glad and be free."
2. A cry from the floods to the fountains;
And the torrents repeat the glad song
As they leap from the breast of the mountains,¬--
"O spirit! be free and be strong."
[Transcriber's Note 1: The correct dates are June, 20 1813 to June 14, 1883.]
3. The pine forests thrill with emotion
Of praise, as the spirit sweeps by:
With a voice like the murmur of ocean
To the soul of the listener they cry.
4. Oh! sing, human heart, like the fountains,
With joy reverential and free,
Contented and calm as the mountains,
And deep as the woods and the sea.. 作者: ououmama 时间: 2012-5-4 20:55 标题: 第五册L114 A SUMMER LONGING 夏天的渴望
A SUMMER LONGING.
George Arnold (b. 1834, d. 1865) was born in New York, but removed with his parents to Illinois while yet an infant. There he passed his boyhood, being educated at home by his parents. In 1849 the family again removed to Strawberry Farms, Monmouth County, N.J. When eighteen years old he began to study painting, but soon gave up the art and devoted himself to literature. He became a journalist of New York City, and his productions include almost every variety of writings found in the literary magazines. After his death, two volumes of his poems, "Drift: a Seashore Idyl," and "Poems, Grave and Gay," were edited by Mr. William Winter.
1. I must away to the wooded hills and vales,
Where broad, slow streams flow cool and silently
And idle barges flap their listless sails.
For me the summer sunset glows and pales,
And green fields wait for me.
2. I long for shadowy founts, where the birds
Twitter and chirp at noon from every tree;
I long for blossomed leaves and lowing herds;
And Nature's voices say in mystic words,
"The green fields wait for thee."
3. I dream of uplands, where the primrose shines
And waves her yellow lamps above the lea;
Of tangled copses, swung with trailing vines;
Of open vistas, skirted with tall pines,
Where green fields wait for me.
4. I think of long, sweet afternoons, when I
May lie and listen to the distant sea,
Or hear the breezes in the reeds that sigh,
Or insect voices chirping shrill and dry,
In fields that wait for me.
5. These dreams of summer come to bid me find
The forest's shade, the wild bird's melody,
While summer's rosy wreaths for me are twined,
While summer's fragrance lingers on the wind,
And green fields wait for me.. 作者: ououmama 时间: 2012-5-4 20:56 标题: 第五册 L115 FATE. 命运
FATE.
Francis Bret Harte (b. 1839,--) was born in Albany, N.Y. When seventeen years old he went to California, where he engaged in various employments. He was a teacher, was employed in government offices, worked in the gold mines, and learned to be a compositor in a printing office. In 1868 he started the "Overland Monthly," and his original and characteristic poems and sketches soon made it a popular magazine. Mr. Harte has been a contributor to some of the leading periodicals of the country, but principally to the "Atlantic Monthly."
1. "The sky is clouded, the rocks are bare;
The spray of the tempest is white in air;
The winds are out with the waves at play,
And I shall not tempt the sea to-day.
2. "The trail is narrow, the wood is dim,
The panther clings to the arching limb;
And the lion's whelps are abroad at play,
And I shall not join in the chase to-day."
3. But the ship sailed safely over the sea,
And the hunters came from the chase in glee;
And the town that was builded upon a rock
Was swallowed up in the earthquake shock.. 作者: ououmama 时间: 2012-5-4 20:58 标题: 第五册 L117 MY MOTHER'S BIBLE妈妈的圣经
MY MOTHER'S BIBLE.
George P. Morris (b. 1802, d. 1864) was born in Philadelphia. In 1823 he became one of the editors of the "New York Mirror," a weekly literary paper, In 1846 Mr. Morris and N. P. Willis founded "The Home Journal." He was associate editor of this popular journal until a short time before his death.
1. This book is all that's left me now,--
¬Tears will unbidden start,--
With faltering lip and throbbing brow
I press it to my heart.
For many generations past
Here is our family tree;
My mother's hands this Bible clasped,
She, dying, gave it me.
2. Ah! well do I remember those
Whose names these records bear;
Who round the hearthstone used to close,
After the evening prayer,
And speak of what these pages said
In tones my heart would thrill!
Though they are with the silent dead,
Here are they living still!
3. My father read this holy hook
To brothers, sisters, dear;
How calm was my poor mother's look,
Who loved God's word to hear!
Her angel face,--I see it yet!
What thronging memories come!
Again that little group is met
Within the walls of home!
4. Thou truest friend man ever knew,
Thy constancy I've tried;
When all were false, I found thee true,
My counselor and guide.
The mines of earth no treasures give
That could this volume buy;
In teaching me the way to live,
It taught me how to die.. 作者: ououmama 时间: 2012-5-4 21:05 标题: 第六册L2、 THE NEEDLE 银针
II. THE NEEDLE.
The gay belles of fashion may boast of excelling
In waltz or cotillon, at whist or quadrille;
And seek admiration by vauntingly telling
Of drawing, and painting, and musical skill:
But give me the fair one, in country or city,
Whose home and its duties are dear to her heart,
Who cheerfully warbles some rustical ditty,
While plying the needle with exquisite art:
The bright little needle, the swift-flying needle,
The needle directed by beauty and art.
If Love have a potent, a magical token,
A talisman, ever resistless and true,
A charm that is never evaded or broken,
A witchery certain the heart to subdue,
'T is this; and his armory never has furnished
So keen and unerring, or polished a dart;
Let beauty direct it, so polished and burnished,
And oh! it is certain of touching the heart:
The bright little needle, the swift-flying needle,
The needle directed by beauty and art.
Be wise, then, ye maidens, nor seek admiration,
By dressing for conquest, and flirting with all;
You never, whate'er be your fortune or station,
Appear half so lovely at rout or at ball,
As gayly convened at the work-covered table,
Each cheerfully active, playing her part,
Beguiling the task with a song or a fable,
And plying the needle with exquisite art:
The bright little needle, the swift-flying needle,
The needle directed by beauty and art.
--Samuel Woodworth. 萨缪尔 伍德沃兹.
