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初中英文诗歌朗诵稿

时间: 杨杰1209 分享

  诗是夏夜的繁星,让夜空不再寂寞;诗是天空的飞鸟,让冬天不再凄冷。以下是小编为大家收集关于初中英文诗歌朗诵稿,供你参考阅读。

  英文诗歌篇:COLORS

  What is pink? A rose is pink

  By the fountain's brink.

  What is red? A poppy's red

  In its barley bed.

  What is blue? The sky is blue

  Where the clouds float thro'.

  What is white? A swan is white

  Sailing in the light.

  What is yellow? Pears are yellow,

  Rich and ripe and mellow.

  What is green? The grass is green,

  With small flowers between.

  What is violet? Clouds are violet

  In the summer twilight.

  What is orange? Why, an orange,

  Just an orange!

  by C. G. Rossetti

  英文诗歌篇

  Oh Captain! My Captain! Our fearful trip is done,

  The ship has weather'd every rack, the prize we sought is won,

  The port is near, the bells I hear, the people all exulting,

  While follow eyes the steady keel, the vessel grim and daring;

  But Oh heart! heart! heart!

  Oh the bleeding drops of red!

  Where on the deck my Captain lies,

  Fallen cold and dead.

  Oh Captain! my Captain! rise up and hear the bells;

  Rise up -for you the flag is flung -for you the bugle trills,

  For you bouquets and ribbon'd wreaths-for you the shores crowding,

  For you they call, the swaying mass, their eager faces turing;

  Here, Captain! dear father!

  This arm beneath your head;

  It is some dream that on the deck

  You've fallen cold and dead.

  My Captain does not answer, his lips are pale and still,

  My father does not feel my arm , he has no pulse nor will;

  The ship is anchor'd safe and sound, its voyage closed and done;

  From fearful trip the victor ship comes in with object won;

  Exult, Oh shores! and ring, Oh bells!

  But I,with mournful tread,

  Walk the deck my captain lies,

  Fallen cold and dead.

  英文诗歌篇3分钟

  Hope Is the Thing with Feathers

  ——Emily Dickinson

  Hope is the thing with feathers

  That perches in the soul,

  And sings the tune without the words,

  And never stops at all.

  And sweetest in the gale is heard;

  And sore must be the storm

  That could abash the little bird

  That kept so many warm.

  I’ve heard it in the chillest land,

  And on the strangest sea;

  Yet, never, in extremity,

  It asked a crumb of me.


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