英文诗歌鉴赏讲义(3)

Never seek to tell thy love, Love that never told can be.

Cannon to right of them, Cannon to left of them. Cannon in front of them, Volley?d and thunder?d

For the moon never beams without bringing me dreams Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;

And the stars never risebut I see the bright eyes Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;

And so all the night-tide, I lie down by the side Of my darling, my life and my bride, In the sepulcher there by the sea— In her tomb by the side of the sea.

The black bands came over The Alps and their snow

—Byron

The cumbrous elements— earth, flood, air, fire

—Milton

Let me not to the marriage of true minds Admit impediments.

—Shakespeare, 116

Love?s not Time?s fool, though rosy lips and cheeks Within his bending sickle?s compass come.

—Shakespeare

Rich the treasure, sweat the pleasure.

—Dryden,Alexander’s Feast

Upon His Departure Hence Thus I Pass by And die As one Unknown

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And gone I?m made A shade And laid I?th grave There have My cave Where tell I dwell Farewell.

—Robert Herrick (17th century)

The trumpet of a prophecy! O wind,

If winter comes, can spring befarbehind?

—Percy Bysshe Shelley, Ode to the West Wind

I come from haunts of coot and hern, I make a sudden sally

And sparkle out among the fern, To bicker down a valley.

—Alfred Tennyson, The Brook

Who has seen the wind? Neither Inor you.

But when the leaves hang trembling The wind is passing through.

Who has seen the wind? Neither you nor I

But when the trees bow down their heads The wind is passing by!

When I heard the Learn’d Astronomer

When I heard the learn?d astronomer;

When the proofs, the figures, were ranged in columns before me;

When I was shown the charts and the diagrams, to add, divide, and measure them;

When I, sitting, heard the astronomer, where he lectured with much applause in thelecture-room,

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How soon, unaccountable, I became tired and sick; Till rising and gliding out, I wander?d off by myself, In the mystical moist night-air, and from time to time, Look?d up in perfect silence at the stars.

—Walt Whitman

Listen! You hear the grating roar

Ofpebbles which the waves draw back, and fling, At their return, up the high strand,

Begin, and cease, and then again begin, With tremulous cadence slow, and bring The eternal note of sadness in. —Matthew Arnold, Dover Beach

Love at First Sight

They?re both convincedthat a sudden passion joined them.

Such certainty is beautiful,but uncertainty is more beautiful still.

Since they?d never met before, they?re surethat there?d been nothing between them.

But what?s the word from the streets, staircases, hallways—perhaps they?ve passed each other a million times?

I want to ask themif they don?t remember—a moment face to facein some revolving door?perhaps a “sorry” muttered in a crowd?a curt “wrong number” caught in the receiver?but I know the answer. No, they don?t remember

They?d be amazed to hearthat Chance has been toying with themnow for years.

Not quite ready yetto become their Destiny,it pushed them close, drove them apart,it barred their path,stifling a laugh,and then leaped aside. There were signs and signals,even if they couldn?t read them yet.

Perhaps three years agoor just last Tuesdaya certain leaf flutteredfrom one shoulder to another?

Something was dropped and then picked up.

Who knows, maybe the ball that vanishedinto childhood?s thicket?

There were doorknobs and doorbellswhere one touch had covered anotherbeforehand.

Suitcases checked and standing side by side.

One night, perhaps, the same dream,grown hazy by morning.

Every beginningis only a sequel, after all,and the book of eventsis

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always open halfway through.

Heart, We Will Forget Him! Heart! We will forget him! You and I—tonight!

You may forget the warmth he gave— I will forget the light!

When you have done, pray tell me That I may straight begin!

Haste! lest while you?re lagging I remember him!

—Emily Dickinson

一剪梅

红藕香残玉簟秋，

轻解罗裳，独上兰舟。 云中谁寄锦书来？

雁字回时，月满西楼。

花自飘零水自流。

一种相思，两处闲愁。 此情无计可消除。

才下眉头，却上心头。

—（宋）李清照

To the Tune of Yijianmei

Red lotus scent fades, mat feels autumn cold; Unlace my gauze robe, I alone step on the boat; Who can bring his letter on silk through clouds?

When courier geese return, West chamber th? moon would fold.

Water has to flow, flowers fade and float;

One lovesickness ties two sorrow places remote; This feeling has no way to be repelled;

Once off my eyebrows, upon my heart it would hold.

I don?t mind eels Except at meals

And the way they feels

—Ogden Nash

Look at the stars! Look, look up at the skies! O look at all the fire-folk sitting in the air! The bright boroughs, the circle-citadels there.

—Gerald Manley Hopkins, The Starlight Night

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I slip, I slide, I gloom, I glance, Among my skimming swallows;

—Alfred Tennyson, The Brook

Five miles meandering with a mazy motion Through wood and dale the sacred river ran, Then reached the caverns measureless to man, And sank in tumult to a lifeless ocean:

—S.T. Coleridge, Kubla Khan

The Scian and the Teian muse, The hero?s harp, the lover?s lute,

Have found the fame your shore refuse.

—George Byron, The Isles of Greece

Wherefore feed and clothe and save, From the cradle to the grave,

Those ungrateful drones who would

Drain you sweat — nay drink your blood?

Whereat, with blade, with bloody blameful blade, He bravely broach?d is boiling bloody breast;

—Shakespeare, Midsummer Night

Nothing is so beautiful as spring—

When weeds, in wheels, shoot long and lovely and lush ;

—G.M. Hopkins

Do not go gentle into that good night,

Old age should burn and rave at close of day; Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Though wise men at their end know dark is right, Because their words have forked no lightning they Do not go gentle into that good night.

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