the home book of verse-1-第59节
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That had else been all too bright。
And her hat； with shady brim；
Made her tressy forehead dim；
Thus she stood amid the stooks；
Praising God with sweetest looks：
Sure； I said； Heaven did not mean；
Where I reap thou shouldst but glean；
Lay thy sheaf adown and come；
Share my harvest and my home。
Thomas Hood ＇1799…1845＇
THE SOLITARY REAPER
Behold her； single in the field；
Yon solitary Highland Lass！
Reaping and singing by herself；
Stop here； or gently pass！
Alone she cuts and binds the grain；
And sings a melancholy strain；
O listen！ for the Vale profound
Is overflowing with the sound。
No Nightingale did ever chaunt
More welcome notes to weary bands
Of Travellers in some shady haunt；
Among Arabian sands：
A voice so thrilling ne'er was heard
In spring…time from the Cuckoo…bird；
Breaking the silence of the seas
Among the farthest Hebrides。
Will no one tell me what she sings？
Perhaps the plaintive numbers flow
For old； unhappy； far…off things；
And battles long ago：
Or is it some more humble lay；
Familiar matter of to…day？
Some natural sorrow； loss； or pain；
That has been； and may be again！
Whate'er the theme； the Maiden sang
As if her song could have no ending；
I saw her singing at her work；
And o'er the sickle bending； …
I listened； motionless and still；
And； as I mounted up the hill；
The music in my heart I bore；
Long after it was heard no more。
William Wordsworth ＇1770…1850＇
THE THREE COTTAGE GIRLS
I
How blest the Maid whose heart … yet free
From Love's uneasy sovereignty …
Beats with a fancy running high；
Her simple cares to magnify；
Whom Labor； never urged to toil；
Hath cherished on a healthful soil；
Who knows not pomp； who heeds not pelf；
Whose heaviest sin it is to look
Askance upon her pretty Self
Reflected in some crystal brook；
Whom grief hath spared … who sheds no tear
But in sweet pity； and can hear
Another's praise from envy clear。
II
Such （but O lavish Nature！ why
That dark unfathomable eye；
Where lurks a Spirit that replies
To stillest mood of softest skies；
Yet hints at peace to be o'erthrown；
Another's first； and then her own？）
Such haply； yon Italian Maid；
Our Lady's laggard Votaress；
Halting beneath the chestnut shade
To accomplish there her loveliness：
Nice aid maternal fingers lend；
A Sister serves with slacker hand；
Then； glittering like a star； she joins the festal band。
III
How blest （if truth may entertain
Coy fancy with a bolder strain）
The Helvetian Girl … who daily braves；
In her light skiff； the tossing waves；
And quits the bosom of the deep
Only to climb the rugged steep！
… Say whence that modulated shout！
From Wood…nymph of Diana's throng？
Or does the greeting to a rout
Of giddy Bacchanals belong？
Jubilant outcry！ rock and glade
Resounded … but the voice obeyed
The breath of an Helvetian Maid。
IV
Her beauty dazzles the thick wood；
Her courage animates the flood；
Her steps the elastic greensward meets
Returning unreluctant sweets；
The mountains （as ye heard） rejoice
Aloud； saluted by her voice！
Blithe Paragon of Alpine grace；
Be as thou art … for through thy veins
The blood of Heroes runs its race！
And nobly wilt thou brook the chains
That； for the virtuous； Life prepares；
The fetter which the Matron wears；
The patriot Mother's weight of anxious cares！
〃Sweet Highland Girl！ a very shower
Of beauty was thy earthly dower；〃
When thou didst flit before mine eyes；
Gay Vision under sullen skies；
While Hope and Love around thee played；
Near the rough falls of Inversneyd！
Have they； who nursed the blossom； seen
No breach of promise in the fruit？
Was joy； in following joy； as keen
As grief can be in grief's pursuit？
When youth had flown did hope still bless
Thy goings … or the cheerfulness
Of innocence survive to mitigate distress？
VI
But from our course why turn … to tread
A way with shadows overspread；
Where what we gladliest would believe
Is feared as what may most deceive？
Bright Spirit； not with amaranth crowned
But heath…bells from thy native ground；
Time cannot thin thy flowing hair；
Nor take one ray of light from Thee；
For in my Fancy thou dost share
The gift of immortality；
And there shall bloom； with Thee allied；
The Votaress by Lugano's side；
And that intrepid Nymph； on Uri's steep descried！
William Wordsworth ＇1770…1850＇
BLACKMWORE MAIDENS
The primrwose in the sheade do blow；
The cowslip in the zun；
The thyme upon the down do grow；
The cote where streams do run；
An' where do pretty maidens grow
An' blow； but where the tower
Do rise among the bricken tuns；
In Blackmwore by the Stour。
If you could zee their comely gait；
An' pretty feaces' smiles；
A…trippen on so light o' waight；
An' steppen off the stiles；
A…gwain to church； as bells do swing
An' ring within the tower；
You'd own the pretty maidens' pleace
Is Blackmwore by the Stour。
If you vrom Wimborne took your road；
To Stower or Paladore；
An' all the farmers' housen showed
Their daughters at the door；
You'd cry to bachelors at hwome …
〃Here； come： 'ithin an hour
You'll vind ten maidens to your mind；
In Blackmwore by the Stour。〃
An' if you looked 'ithin their door；
To zee em in their pleace；
A…doen housework up avore
Their smilen mother's feace；
You'd cry … 〃Why if a man would wive
An' thrive； 'ithout a dower；
Then let en look en out a wife
In Blackmwore by the Stour。〃
As I upon my road did pass
A school…house back in May；
There out upon the beaten grass
Wer maidens at their play；
An' as the pretty souls did tweil
An' smile； I cried； 〃The flower
O' beauty； then； is still in bud
In Blackmwore by the Stour。〃
William Barnes ＇1801…1886＇
A PORTRAIT
〃One name is Elizabeth〃 Ben Jonson
I will paint her as I see her。
Ten times have the lilies blown
Since she looked upon the sun。
And her face is lily…clear；
Lily…shaped； and dropped in duty
To the law of its own beauty。
Oval cheeks encolored faintly；
Which a trail of golden hair
Keeps from fading off to air：
And a forehead fair and saintly；
Which two blue eyes undershine；
Like meek prayers before a shrine。
Face and figure of a child； …
Though too calm； you think； and tender；
For the childhood you would lend her。
Yet child…simple； undefiled；
Frank； obedient； waiting still
On the turnings of your will。
Moving light； as all young things；
As young birds； or early wheat
When the wind blows over it。
Only； free from flutterings
Of loud mirth that scorneth measure …
Taking love for her chief pleasure。
Choosing pleasures； for the rest；
Which come softly … just as she；
When she nestles at your knee。
Quiet talk she liketh best；
In a bower of gentle looks； …
Watering flowers； or reading books。
And her voice； it murmurs lowly；
As a silver stream may run；
Which yet feels （you feel） the sun。
And her smile it seems half holy；
As if drawn from thoughts more far
Than our common jestings are。
And if any poet knew her；
He would sing of her with falls
Used in lovely madrigals。
And if any painter drew her；
He would paint her unaware
With a halo round her hair。
And if reader read the poem；
He would whisper … 〃You have done a
Consecrated little Una！〃
And a dreamer （did you show him
That same picture） would exclaim；
〃'Tis my angel； with a name！〃
And a stranger； … when he sees her
In the street even … smileth stilly；
Just as you would at a lily。
And all voices that address her；
Soften； sleeken every word；
As if speaking to a bird。
And all fancies yearn to cover
The hard earth； whereon she passes；
With the thymy…scented grasses。
And all hearts do pray； 〃God love her！〃
Ay and always； in good sooth；
We may all be sure HE DOTH。
Elizabeth Barrett Browning ＇1806…1861＇
TO A CHILD OF FANCY
The nests are in the hedgerows；
The lambs are on the grass；
With laughter sweet as music
The hours lightfooted pass；
My darling child of fancy；
My winsome prattling lass。
Blue eyes； with long brown lashes；
Thickets of golden curl；
Red little lips disclosing
Twin rows of fairy pearl；
Cheeks like the apple blossom；
Voice lightsome as the merle。
A whole Spring's fickle changes；
In every short…lived day；
A passing cloud of April；
A flowery smile of May；
A thousand quick mutations
From graver moods to gay。
Far off； I see the season
When thy childhood's course is run；
And thy girlhood opens wider
Beneath the growing sun；
And the rose begins to redden；
But the violets are done。
And further still the summer；
When thy fair tree； fully grown；
Shall bourgeon； and grow splendid
With blos
