寫給少女的英文詩欣賞

　　英語詩歌是英語語言的精華。它以最凝練的文字傳遞時間與空間、物質與精神、理智與情感。小編精心收集了寫給少女的英文詩，供大家欣賞學習!

　　寫給少女的英文詩篇1

　　To the Virgins, to Make Much of Time

　　致少女，珍惜時光

　　Robert Herrick

　　羅伯特 赫裡克

　　Gather ye rosebuds while ye may, Old Time is still a-flying:

　　玫瑰出花蕾，堪折直須折： 時光飛逝不停歇;

　　And this same flower that smiles to-day To-morrow will be dying.

　　一朵鮮花美，今日笑微微， 明日或許即凋萎。

　　The glorious lamp of heaven, the sun, The higher he's a-getting,

　　太陽如天燈，熠熠光輝生， 當其漸行漸高升，

　　The sooner will his race be run, And nearer he's to setting.

　　亦漸行漸遠，其軌跡漸完， 漸近落山近傍晚。

　　That age is best which is the first, When youth and blood are warmer;

　　年華最初時，年華最美麗， 血氣方剛有活力;

　　But being spent, the worse, and worst Times still succeed the former.

　　一旦此時過，每況將愈下， 後來時光比前差。

　　Then be not coy, but use your time, And while ye may, go marry:

　　――請勿再忸怩，請將韶華惜， 快趁此時結連理;

　　For having lost but once your prime, You may for ever tarry.

　　青春好時光，怎可來錯過， 一旦錯過永蹉跎。

　　寫給少女的英文詩篇2

　　The Lady of Shallot

　　Part I.

　　On either side the river lie

　　Long fields of barley and of rye,

　　That clothe the wold and meet the sky;

　　And thro' the field the road runs by

　　To many-tower'd Camelot;

　　And up and down the people go,

　　Gazing where the lilies blow

　　Round an island there below,

　　The island of Shalott.

　　河流的兩岸

　　廣闊的麥田與天際相交

　　一條長路穿過麥田

　　通往高塔林立的卡米洛城堡

　　往來的人們注視著百合盛開之地

　　夏洛特小島

　　Willows whiten, aspens quiver,

　　Little breezes dusk and shiver

　　Thro' the wave that runs for ever

　　By the island in the river

　　Flowing down to Camelot.

　　Four gray walls, and four gray towers,

　　Overlook a space of flowers,

　　And the silent isle imbowers

　　The Lady of Shalott.

　　泛白的柳樹，顫抖的白楊

　　輕風吹皺薄暮

　　終年不息的河流經過小島向卡米洛城流淌

　　四面灰色的牆，四座灰色的塔，

　　俯瞰鮮花盛開的地方

　　和綠蔭下沉寂的小島

　　夏洛特夫人

　　By the margin, willow-veil'd

　　Slide the heavy barges trail'd

　　By slow horses; and unhail'd

　　The shallop flitteth silken-sail'd

　　Skimming down to Camelot:

　　But who hath seen her wave her hand?

　　Or at the casement seen her stand?

　　Or is she known in all the land,

　　The Lady of Shalott?

　　Only reapers, reaping early

　　In among the bearded barley,

　　Hear a song that echoes cheerly

　　From the river winding clearly,

　　Down to tower'd Camelot:

　　And by the moon the reaper weary,

　　Piling sheaves in uplands airy,

　　Listening, whispers "'Tis the fairy

　　Lady of Shalott."

　　Part II.

　　There she weaves by night and day

　　A magic web with colours gay.

　　She has heard a whisper say,

　　A curse is on her if she stay

　　To look down to Camelot.

　　She knows not what the curse may be,

　　And so she weaveth steadily,

　　And little other care hath she,

　　The Lady of Shalott.

　　And moving thro' a mirror clear

　　That hangs before her all the year,

　　Shadows of the world appear.

　　There she sees the highway near

　　Winding down to Camelot:

　　There the river eddy whirls,

　　And there the surly village-churls,

　　And the red cloaks of market girls,

　　Pass onward from Shalott.

　　Sometimes a troop of damsels glad,

　　An abbot on an ambling pad,

　　Sometimes a curly shepherd-lad,

　　Or long-hair'd page in crimson clad,

　　Goes by to tower'd Camelot;

　　And sometimes thro' the mirror blue

　　The knights come riding two and two:

　　She hath no loyal knight and true,

　　The Lady of Shalott.

　　But in her web she still delights

　　To weave the mirror's magic sights,

　　For often thro' the silent nights

　　A funeral, with plumes and lights

　　And music, went to Camelot:

　　Or when the moon was overhead,

　　Came two young lovers lately wed;

　　"I am half-sick of shadows," said

　　The Lady of Shalott.

　　Part III.

　　A bow-shot from her bower-eaves,

　　He rode between the barley-sheaves,

　　The sun came dazzling thro' the leaves,

　　And flamed upon the brazen greaves

　　Of bold Sir Lancelot.

　　A redcross knight for ever kneel'd

　　To a lady in his shield,

　　That sparkled on the yellow field,

　　Beside remote Shalott.

　　The gemmy bridle glitter'd free,

　　Like to some branch of stars we see

　　Hung in the golden Galaxy.

　　The bridle-bells rang merrily

　　As he rode down to Camelot:

　　And from his blazon'd baldric slung

　　A mighty silver bugle hung,

　　And as he rode his armour rung,

　　Beside remote Shalott.

　　All in the blue unclouded weather

　　Thick-jewell'd shone the saddle-leather,

　　The helmet and the helmet-feather

　　Burn'd like one burning flame together,

　　As he rode down to Camelot.

　　As often thro' the purple night,

　　Below the starry clusters bright,

　　Some bearded meteor, trailing light,

　　Moves over still Shalott.

　　His broad clear brow in sunlight glow'd;

　　On burnish'd hooves his war-horse trode;

　　From underneath his helmet flow'd

　　His coal-black curls as on he rode,

　　As he rode down to Camelot.

　　From the bank and from the river

　　He flash'd into the crystal mirror,

　　"Tirra lirra," by the river

　　Sang Sir Lancelot.

　　She left the web, she left the loom,

　　She made three paces thro' the room,

　　She saw the water-lily bloom,

　　She saw the helmet and the plume,

　　She look'd down to Camelot.

　　Out flew the web and floated wide;

　　The mirror crack'd from side to side;

　　"The curse is come upon me," cried

　　The Lady of Shalott.

　　Part IV.

　　In the stormy east-wind straining,

　　The pale-yellow woods were waning,

　　The broad stream in his banks complaining,

　　Heavily the low sky raining

　　Over tower'd Camelot;

　　Down she came and found a boat

　　Beneath a willow left afloat,

　　And round about the prow she wrote

　　The Lady of Shalott.

　　And down the river's dim expanse--

　　Like some bold seer in a trance,

　　Seeing all his own mischance--

　　With a glassy countenance

　　Did she look to Camelot.

　　And at the closing of the day

　　She loosed the chain, and down she lay;

　　The broad stream bore her far away,

　　The Lady of Shalott.

　　Lying, robed in snowy white

　　That loosely flew to left and right--

　　The leaves upon her falling light--

　　Thro' the noises of the night

　　She floated down to Camelot:

　　And as the boat-head wound along

　　The willowy hills and fields among,

　　They heard her singing her last song,

　　The Lady of Shalott.

　　Heard a carol, mournful, holy,

　　Chanted loudly, chanted lowly,

　　Till her blood was frozen slowly,

　　And her eyes were darken'd wholly,

　　Turn'd to tower'd Camelot;

　　For ere she reach'd upon the tide

　　The first house by the water-side,

　　Singing in her song she died,

　　The Lady of Shalott.

　　Under tower and balcony,

　　By garden-wall and gallery,

　　A gleaming shape she floated by,

　　A corse between the houses high,

　　Silent into Camelot.

　　Out upon the wharfs they came,

　　Knight and burgher, lord and dame,

　　And round the prow they read her name,

　　The Lady of Shalott.

　　Who is this? and what is here?

　　And in the lighted palace near

　　Died the sound of royal cheer;

　　And they cross'd themselves for fear,

　　All the knights at Camelot:

　　But Lancelot mused a little space;

　　He said, "She has a lovely face;

　　God in his mercy lend her grace,

　　The Lady of Shalott.

　　by Alfred, Lord Tennyson ***1842***