關於經典英文詩歌篇壹
I Started Early - Took My Dog
Emily Dickinson ***1830-86***
I started Early - Took my Dog
And visited the Sea
The Mermaids in the Basement
Came out to look at me
And Frigates - in the Upper Floor
Extended Hempen Hands
Presuming Me to be a Mouse
Aground - upon the Sands
But no Man moved Me - till the Tide
Went past my simple Shoe
And past my Apron - and my Belt
And past my Bodice - too
And made as He would eat me up
As wholly as a Dew
Upon a Dandelion's Sleeve
And then - I started - too
And He - He followed - close behind
I felt His Silver Heel
Upon my Ankle - Then my Shoes
Would overflow with Pearl
Until We met the Solid Town
No One He seemed to know
And bowing - with a Mighty look
At me - The Sea withdrew
關於經典英文詩歌篇二
The Wild Swans At Coole
William Butler Yeats ***1865-1939***
The trees are in their autumn beauty,
The woodland paths are dry,
Under the October twilight the water
Mirror a still sky;
Upon the brimming water among the stones
Are nine-and-fifty swans.
The nineteenth autumn has e upon me
Since I first made my count;
I saw, before I had well finished,
All suddenly mount
And scatter wheeling in great broken rings
Upon their clamorous wings.
I have looked upon those brilliant creatures,
And now my heart is sore.
All's changed since I, hearing at twilight,
The first time on this shore,
The bell-beat of their wings above my head,
Trod with a lighter tread.
Unwearied still, lover by lover,
They paddle in the cold
panionable streams or climb the air;
Their hearts have not grown old;
Passion or conquest, wander where they will,
Attend upon them still.
But now they drift on the still water,
Mysterious, beautiful;
Among what rushes will they build,
By what lake's edge or pool
Delight men's eyes when I awake some day
To find they have flown away?
關於經典英文詩歌篇三
The Horses
Ted Hughes
I climbed through woods in the hour-before-dawn dark.
Evil air, a frost-making stillness,
Not a leaf, not a bird,--
A world cast in frost. I came out above the wood
Where my breath left tortuous statues in the iron light.
But the valleys were draining the darkness
Till the moorline--blackening dregs of the brightening grey--
Halved the sky ahead. And I saw the horses:
Huge in the dense grey--ten together--
Megalith-still. They breathed, making no move,
With draped manes and tilted hind-hooves,
Making no sound.
I passed: not one snorted or jerked its head.
Grey silent fragments
Of a grey silent world.
I listened in emptiness on the moor-ridge.
The curlew's tear turned its edge on the silence.
Slowly detail leafed from the darkness. Then the sun
Orange, red, red erupted
Silently, and splitting to its core tore and flung cloud,
Shook the gulf open, showed blue,
And the big planets hanging--.
I turned
Stumbling in the fever of a dream, down towards
The dark woods, from the kindling tops,
And came to the horses.
There, still they stood,
But now steaming and glistening under the flow of light,
Their draped stone manes, their tilted hind-hooves
Stirring under a thaw while all around them
The frost showed its fires. But still they made no sound.
Not one snorted or stamped,
Their hung heads patient as the horizons,
High over valleys, in the red levelling rays--
In din of the crowded streets, going among the years, the faces,
May I still meet my memory in so lonely a place
Between the streams and the red clouds, hearing curlews,
Hearing the horizons endure.