学习啦【英语文摘】 编辑:韦彦 发布时间:2016-08-27



  Autumn -the Harvest Season



  The autumn, with its ripening fruits, and waving harvest, is now with us. We see on every hand the results of the farmer's toil and forecast in the springtime. Then it was that he broke up the soil, sowed the seed, pruned his trees, and guarded the tender plants. Now we see the ripening crops. The trees are bending with golden fruit, and abundance rewards farmer's toil.


  But suppose in spring the farmer had left the soil unturned, the seed unsown, the trees untrimmed, and everything neglected, what would now be the result? We should see nothing but barren fields, overrun with weeds and biers; and the farmer would feel that a winter of want and distress is before him.


  And let us remember that the autumn of life will come on apace; and that what we now sow, we shall then reap. If we would reap an abundant harvest, and gather precious fruit,and secure an autumn of plenty prosperity, we must now, in the springtime of life, be diligent and careful in the cultivation of our hearts. We must form only those habits which will produce good fruits. Our acts must be noble, our thoughts and our words must be pure, and our feelings must be kind. As we now sow, we shall then reap. If we "sow to the wind, we shall reap the whirlwind".



  A Green Hill Far Away远处的青山

  And the flight of birds, the gulls and rooks and little brown wavering things which flit out and along the edge of the chalk-pits, is once more refreshment to me, utterly untempered. A merle is singing in a bramble thicket; the dew has not yet dried off the bramble leaves. A feather of a moon floats across the sky; the distance sends forth homely murmurs;the sun warms my cheeks. And all of this is pure joy. No hawk of dread and horror keeps swooping down and bearing off the little birds of happiness. No accusing conscience starts forth and beckons me away from pleasure. Everywhere is supreme and flawless beauty. Whether one looks at this tiny snail shell,marvelously chased and marked, a very elf's horn whose open mouth is coloured rose; or gazes down at the flat land between here and the sea, wandering under the smile of the afternoon sunlight, seeming almost to be alive, hedgeless, with its many watching trees, and silver gulls hovering above the mushroom-coloured "ploughs", and Fields green in manifold hues; whether one muse on this little pink daisy born so out of time, or watches that valley of brown-rose-grey woods,under the drifting shadows of low-hanging chalky clouds - all is perfect, as only Nature can be perfect on a lovely day, when the mind of him who looks on her is at rest.



  A Warble for Joy of Lilac-time



  Warble me now for joy of lilac-time,


  (returning in reminiscence,)


  Sort me tongue and lips for Nature's sake, souvenirs of earliest summer,


  Gather the welcome signs,


  (as children with pebbles or stringing shells,)


  Put in April and May, the hylas croaking in the ponds, the elastic air,


  Bees, butterflies, the sparrow with its simple notes,


  Blue bird and darting swallow, nor forget the high-hole flashing his golden wings,


  The tranquil sunny haze, the clinging smoke, the vapor,


  Shimmer of waters with fish in them, the cerulean above,


  A1l that is jocund and sparkling, the brooks running,


  The maple woods, the crisp February days and the sugar-making,


  The robin where he hops, bright-eyed, brown-breasted,


  With musical clear call at sunrise, and again at sunset,


  Or flitting among the trees of the apple-orchard, building the nest of his mate,


  The melted snow of March, the willow sending forth its yellow-green sprouts,


  For spring-time is here! the summer is here! and what is this in it and from it?


  Thou, soul, unloosen'd-the restlessness after I know not what;


  Come, let us lag here no longer, let us be up and away!


  O if one could but fly like a bird!


  O to escape, to sail forth as in a ship!


  To glide with thee O soul, o'er all, in all as a ship O'er the waters;


  Gathering these hints, the preludes, the blue sky, the grass, the morning drops of dew,


  The lilac-scent, the bushes with dark green heart-shaped leaves,


  Wood-violets, the little delicate pale blossoms called innocence,


  Samples and sorts not for themselves alone, but for their atmosphere,


  To grace the bush I love-to sing with the birds,

  为了装饰我所爱的丛林——为了与百鸟一起吟哦 ,

  A warble for joy of lilac-time, returning in reminiscence.


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