我最敬佩的人诗歌英文作文
找了半天,总算全了
第一首
Oh, Captain! My Captain
By Walt Whitman
Captain! my Captain! our fearful trip is done,
The ship has weather'd every rack, the prize we sought is worn,
The port is near, the bells I hear, the people all exulting,
While follow eyes the steady keel, the vessel grim and daring;
Captain! my Captain! our fearful trip is done,
The ship has weather'd every rack, the prize we sought is worn,
The port is near, the bells I hear, the people all exulting,
While follow eyes the steady keel, the vessel grim and daring;
But O heart! heart! heart!
O the bleeding drops of red!
Where on the deck my Captain lies,
Fallen cold and dead.
O 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 turning;
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 or 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, O Shores! and ring, O bell!
But I, with mournful tread,
Walk the deck my Captain lies,
Fallen cold and dead.
第2首
Eagle
BY ALFRED, LORD TENNYSON (1809～1892)
He clasps the crag with crooked hands;
Close to the sun in lonely lands,
Ringed with the azure world, he stands.
The wrinkled sea beneath him crawls;
He watches from his mountain walls,
And like a thunderbolt he falls.
第3首
To Sleep
by John Keats
O soft embalmer of the still midnight,
Shutting with careful fingers and benign Our gloom-pleas'd eyes, embower'd from the light,
Enshaded in forgetfulness divine:
O soothest Sleep! if so it please thee, close
In midst of this thine hymn my willing eyes,
Or wait the amen ere thy poppy throws
Around my bed its lulling charities.
Then save me, or the passed day will shine
Upon my pillow, breeding many woes;
Save me from curious conscience, that still lords
Its strength for darkness, burrowing like a mole;
Turn the key deftly in the oiled wards,
And seal the hushed casket of my soul.
第4首
The Flight of Youth
by Richard Henry Stoddard
There are gains for all our losses.
There are balms for all our pain:
But when youth, the dream, departs
It takes something from our hearts,
And it never comes again.
We are stronger, and are better,
Under manhood's sterner reign:
Still we feel that something sweet
Followed youth, with flying feet,
And will never come again.
Something beautiful is vanished,
And we sigh for it in vain;
We behold it everywhere,
On the earth, and in the air,
But it never comes again!
第5首
How Do I Love Thee?
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
How do I love thee?
Let me count the ways.
I love thee to the depth
and breadth
and height
My soul can reach,
when feeling out of sight.
For the ends of Being and ideal Grace.
I love thee to the level of everyday's
Most quiet need,
by sun and candlelight.
I love thee freely,
as men strive for Right;
I love thee purely,
as they turn from Praise.
I love thee with the passion
put to use In my old griefs,
and with my childhood's faith.
I love thee with a love I seemed to lose
With my lost saints,
--I love thee with the breath, Smiles, tears,
of all my life!
--and, if God choose,
I shall but love thee better after death.
第6首
Crossing the Bar
By Alfred Tennyson
And one clear call for me!
And may there be no moaning of the bar,
When I put out to sea,
But such a tide as moving seems asleep,
Too full for sound and foam,
When That which drew form out the boundless deep
Turns again home.
Twilight and evening bell,
And after that the dark!
And may there be no sadness of farewell,
When I embark;
For though from out our bourne of Time and Place
The flood may bear me far,
I hope to see my Pilot face to face
When I have crost the bar.
第7首
To the Cuckoo
By William Wordsworth
O blithe new-comer! I have heard,
I hear thee and rejoice.
O Cuckoo! shall I call thee Bird,
Or but a wandering Voice?
While I am lying on the grass
Thy twofold shout I hear;
From hill to hill it seems to pass
At once far off, and near.
Though babbling only to the Vale,
Of sunshine and of flowers,
Thou bringest unto me a tale
Of visionary hours.
Thrice welcome, darling of the Spring!
Even ye thou art to me
No bird, but an invisible thing,
A voice a mystery;
The same whom in my schoolboy days
I listened to; that Cry
Which made me look a thousand ways
In bush, and tree, and sky.
To seek thee did I often rove
Through woods and on the green;
And thou wert still a hope, a love;
Still longed for, never seen.
And I can listen to thee yet;
Can lie upon the plain
And listen, till I do beget
That golden time again.
O blessed Bird! the earth we pace
Again appears to be
An unsubstantial, faery place;
That is fit home for thee!
第8首
Spring
By Thomas Nashe
Spring, the sweet spring, is the year's pleasant king;
Then blooms each thing, then maids dance in a ring,
Cold doth not sting, the pretty birds do sing,
Cuckoo, jug-jug, pu-we, to-witta-woo!
The palm and may make country houses gay,
Lambs frisk and play, the shepherds pipe all day,
And we hear aye birds tune this merry lay,
Cuckoo, jug-jug, pu-we, to-witta-woo!
The fields breathe sweet, the daisies kiss our feet,
Young lovers meet, old wives a sunning sit,
In every street these tunes our ears do greet,
Cuckoo, jug-jug, pu-we, to-witta-woo!
Spring! the sweet Spring!
第9首
The Furthest Distance in the world
泰戈尔
The furthest distance in the world
Is not between life and death
But when I stand in front of you
Yet you don't know that
I love you.
The furthest distance in the world
Is not when I stand in front of you
Yet you can't see my love
But when undoubtly knowing the love from both
Yet cannot be together.
The furthest distance in the world
Is not being apart while being in love
But when I plainly cannot resist the yearning
Yet pretending you have never been in my heart.
The furthest distance in the world
Is not struggling against the tides
But using one's indifferent heart
To dig an uncrossable river
For the one who loves you .
第10首
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
Robert Frost
Whose woods these are I think I know,
His house is in the village though,
He will not see me stopping here,
To watch his woods fill up with snow.
My little horse must think it queer,
To stop without a farmhouse near,
Between the woods and frozen lake,
The darkest evening of the year.
He gives his harness bells a shake,
To ask if there is some mistake.
The only other sound's the sweep,
Of easy wind and downy flake.
The woods are lovely, dark and deep,
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.