学习啦【英语诗歌】 韦彦时间：2016-09-30 16:54:40我要投稿
I have been cherish’d and forgiven
By many tender-hearted,
’Twas for the sake of one in Heaven
Of him that is departed.
Because I bear my father’s name
I am not quite despised,
My little legacy of fame
I've not yet realized.
And yet if you should praise myself
I'll tell you, I had rather
You'd give your love to me, poor elf,
Your praise to my great father.
无 情 诗
In the Garden
In the garden there strayed
A beautiful maid
As fair as the flowers of the morn;
The first hour of her life
She was made a man’s wife,
And was buried before she was born
When You Are Old
When you are old and grey and full of sleep,
And nodding by the fire, take down this book,
And slowly read, and dream of the soft look
Your eyes had once, and of their shadows deep;
How many loved your moments of glad grace,
And loved your beauty with love false or true,
But one man loved the pilgrim soul in you,
And loved the sorrows of your changing face;
And bending beside the glowing bars,
Murmur, a little sadly, how love fled
And paced upon the mountains overhead
And hid his face amid a crowd of stars.
No Second Troy
Why should I blame her that she filled my days
With misery, or that she would of late
Have taught to ignorant men most violent ways,
Or hurled the little streets against the great,
Had they but courage equal to desire?
What could have made her peaceful with a mind
That nobleness made simple as a fire,
With beauty like a tightened bow, a kind
That is not natural in an age like this,
Being high and solitary and most stern?
Why, what could she have done, being what she is?
Was there another Troy for her to burn?