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第31节

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And the gossip of swallows through all the sky;

The ground…squirrel gaily chirps by his den;

And the wilding bee hums merrily by。



The clouds are at play in the azure space

And their shadows at play on the bright…green vale;

And here they stretch to the frolic chase;

And there they roll on the easy gale。



There's a dance of leaves in that aspen bower;

There's a titter of winds in that beechen tree;

There's a smile on the fruit; and a smile on the flower;

And a laugh from the brook that runs to the sea。



And look at the broad…faced sun; how he smiles

On the dewy earth that smiles in his ray;

On the leaping waters and gay young isles;

Ay; look; and he'll smile thy gloom away。



William Cullen Bryant '1794…1878'





GLAD DAY



Here's another day; dear;

Here's the sun again

Peeping in his pleasant way

Through the window pane。

Rise and let him in; dear;

Hail him 〃hip hurray!〃

Now the fun will all begin。

Here's another day!



Down the coppice path; dear;

Through the dewy glade;

(When the Morning took her bath

What a splash she made!)

Up the wet wood…way; dear;

Under dripping green

Run to meet another day;

Brightest ever seen。



Mushrooms in the field; dear;

Show their silver gleam。

What a dainty crop they yield

Firm as clouted cream;

Cool as balls of snow; dear;

Sweet and fresh and round!

Ere the early dew can go

We must clear the ground。



Such a lot to do; dear;

Such a lot to see!

How we ever can get through

Fairly puzzles me。

Hurry up and out; dear;

Then … away! away!

In and out and round about;

Here's another day!



W。 Graham Robertson '1867…





THE TIGER



Tiger! Tiger! burning bright;

In the forests of the night;

What immortal hand or eye

Could frame thy fearful symmetry?



In what distant deeps or skies

Burnt the fire of thine eyes?

On what wings dare he aspire?

What the hand dare seize the fire?



And what shoulder; and what art;

Could twist the sinews of thy heart?

And when thy heart began to beat;

What dread hand and what dread feet?



What the hammer? what the chain?

In what furnace was thy brain?

What the anvil? what dread grasp

Dare its deadly terrors clasp?



When the stars threw down their spears;

And watered heaven with their tears;

Did He smile His work to see?

Did He who made the Lamb; make thee?



Tiger! Tiger! burning bright;

In the forests of the night;

What immortal hand or eye

Dare frame thy fearful symmetry?



William Blake '1757…1827'





ANSWER TO A CHILD'S QUESTION



Do you ask what the birds say?  The Sparrow; the Dove;

The Linnet and Thrush say; 〃I love and I love!〃

In the winter they're silent … the wind is so strong;

What it says; I don't know; but it sings a loud song。

But green leaves; and blossoms; and sunny warm weather;

And singing; and loving … all come back together。

But the Lark is so brimful of gladness and love;

The green fields below him; the blue sky above;

That he sings; and he sings; and for ever sings he …

〃I love my Love; and my Love loves me!〃



Samuel Taylor Coleridge '1772…1834'





HOW THE LEAVES CAME DOWN



I'll tell you how the leaves came down。

The great Tree to his children said:

〃You're getting sleepy; Yellow and Brown;

Yes; very sleepy; little Red。

It is quite time to go to bed。〃



〃Ah!〃 begged each silly; pouting leaf;

〃Let us a little longer stay;

Dear Father Tree; behold our grief!

'Tis such a very pleasant day;

We do not want to go away。〃



So; just for one more merry day

To the great Tree the leaflets clung;

Frolicked and danced; and had their way;

Upon the autumn breezes swung;

Whispering all their sports among …



〃Perhaps the great Tree will forget;

And let us stay until the spring;

If we all beg; and coax; and fret。〃

But the great Tree did no such thing;

He smiled to hear them whispering。



〃Come; children; all to bed;〃 he cried;

And ere the leaves could urge their prayer;

He shook his head; and far and wide;

Fluttering and rustling everywhere;

Down sped the leaflets through the air。



I saw them; on the ground they lay;

Golden and red; a huddled swarm;

Waiting till one from far away;

White bedclothes heaped upon her arm;

Should come to wrap them safe and warm。



The great bare Tree looked down and smiled。

〃Goodnight dear little leaves;〃 he said。

And from below each sleepy child

Replied; 〃Goodnight;〃 and murmured;

〃It is so nice to go to bed!〃



Susan Coolidge '1835…1905'





A LEGEND OF THE NORTHLAND



Away; away in the Northland;

Where the hours of the day are few;

And the nights are so long in winter

That they cannot sleep them through;



Where they harness the swift reindeer 

To the sledges; when it snows;

And the children look like bear's cubs

In their funny; furry clothes:



They tell them a curious story …

I don't believe 'tis true;

And yet you may learn a lesson

If I tell the tale to you。



Once; when the good Saint Peter

Lived in the world below;

And walked about it; preaching;

Just as he did; you know;



He came to the door of a cottage;

In traveling round the earth;

Where a little woman was making cakes;

And baking them on the hearth;



And being faint with fasting;

For the day was almost done;

He asked her; from her store of cakes;

To give him a single one。



So she made a very little cake;

But as it baking lay;

She looked at it; and thought it seemed

Too large to give away。



Therefore she kneaded another;

And still a smaller one;

But it looked; when she turned it over;

As large as the first had done。



Then she took a tiny scrap of dough;

And rolled and rolled it flat;

And baked it thin as a wafer …

But she couldn't part with that。



For she said; 〃My cakes that seem too small

When I eat of them myself;

Are yet too large to give away。〃

So she put them on the shelf。



Then good Saint Peter grew angry;

For he was hungry and faint;

And surely such a woman

Was enough to provoke a saint。



And he said; 〃You are far too selfish

To dwell in a human form;

To have both food and shelter;

And fire to keep you warm。



〃Now; you shall build as the birds do;

And shall get your scanty food

By boring; and boring; and boring;

All day in the hard; dry wood。〃



Then up she went through the chimney;

Never speaking a word;

And out of the top flew a woodpecker;

For she was changed to a bird。



She had a scarlet cap on her head;

And that was left the same;

But all the rest of her clothes were burned

Black as a coal in the flame。



And every country school…boy

Has seen her in the wood;

Where she lives in the trees till this very day;

Boring and boring for food。



And this is the lesson she teaches:

Live not for yourself alone;

Lest the needs you will not pity

Shall one day be your own。



Give plenty of what is given to you;

Listen to pity's call;

Don't think the little you give is great;

And the much you get is small。



Now; my little boy; remember that;

And try to be kind and good;

When you see the woodpecker's sooty dress;

And see her scarlet hood。



You mayn't be changed to a bird though you live

As selfishly as you can;

But you will be changed to a smaller thing …

A mean and selfish man。



Phoebe Cary '1824…1871'





THE CRICKET'S STORY



The high and mighty lord of Glendare;

The owner of acres both broad and fair;

Searched; once on a time; his vast domains;

His deep; green forest; and yellow plains;

For some rare singer; to make complete

The studied charms of his country…seat;

But found; for all his pains and labors;

No sweeter songster than had his neighbors。



Ah; what shall my lord of the manor do?

He pondered the day and the whole night through。

He called on the gentry of hill…top and dale;

And at last on Madame the Nightingale; …

Inviting; in his majestical way;

Her pupils to sing at his grand soiree;

That perchance among them my lord might find

Some singer to whom his heart inclined。

What wonder; then; when the evening came;

And the castle gardens were all aflame

With the many curious lights that hung

O'er the ivied porches; and flared among

The grand old trees and the banners proud;

That many a heart beat high and loud;

While the famous choir of Glendare Bog;

Established and led by the Brothers Frog;

Sat thrumming as hoarsely as they were able;

In front of the manager's mushroom table!



The overture closed with a crash … then; hark!

Across the stage comes the sweet…voiced Lark。

She daintily sways; with an airy grace;

And flutters a bit of gossamer lace;

While the leafy alcove echoes and thrills

With her liquid runs and lingering trills。

Miss Goldfinch came next; in her satin gown;

And shaking her feathery flounces down;

With much express

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