關(guān)于大學(xué)生英文詩歌朗誦精選
關(guān)于大學(xué)生英文詩歌朗誦精選
英語詩歌是一個包含豐富社會生活內(nèi)容、語言藝術(shù)和文化內(nèi)涵的世界,是基礎(chǔ)英語教學(xué)的一塊很有潛力的教學(xué)資源。學(xué)習(xí)啦小編整理了關(guān)于大學(xué)生英文詩歌朗誦，歡迎閱讀!
關(guān)于大學(xué)生英文詩歌篇一
The Spacious Firmament on high
by Joseph Addison
The Spacious Firmament on high，
With all the blue Ethereal Sky，
And spangled Heav'ns， a Shining Frame，
Their great Original proclaim：
Th' unwearied Sun， from day to day，
Does his Creator's Pow'r display，
And publishes to every Land
The Work of an Almighty Hand.
Soon as the Evening Shades prevail，
The Moon takes up the wondrous Tale，
And nightly to the list'ning Earth
Repeats the Story of her Birth：
Whilst all the Stars that round her burn，
And all the Planets， in their turn，
Confirm the Tidings as they rowl，
And spread the Truth from Pole to Pole.
What though， in solemn Silence， all
Move round the dark terrestrial Ball?
What tho' nor real Voice nor Sound
Amid their radiant Orbs be found?
In Reason's Ear they all rejoice，
And utter forth a glorious Voice，
For ever singing， as they shine，
The Hand that made us is Divine.
關(guān)于大學(xué)生英文詩歌篇二
the sonnet-ballad
by Gwendolyn Brooks
Oh mother， mother， where is happiness?
They took my lover's tallness off to war，
Left me lamenting. Now I cannot guess
What I can use an empty heart-cup for.
He won't be coming back here any more.
Some day the war will end， but， oh， I knew
When he went walking grandly out that door
That my sweet love would have to be untrue.
Would have to be untrue. Would have to court
Coquettish death， whose impudent and strange
Possessive arms and beauty (of a sort)
Can make a hard man hesitate——and change.
And he will be the one to stammer， "Yes."
Oh mother， mother， where is happiness?
關(guān)于大學(xué)生英文詩歌篇三
The Splendor Falls
by Lord Alfred Tennyson
The splendor falls on castle walls
And snowy summits old in story;
The long light shakes across the lakes，
And the wild cataract leaps in glory.
Blow， bugle， blow， set the wild echoes flying，
Blow， bugle; answer， echoes， dying， dying， dying.
O， hark， O， hear! how thin and clear，
And thinner， clearer， farther going!
O， sweet and far from cliff and scar
The horns of Elfland faintly blowing!
Blow， let us hear the purple glens replying，
Blow， bugles; answer， echoes， dying， dying， dying.
O love， they die in yon rich sky，
They faint on hill or field or river;
Our echoes roll from soul to soul，
And grow forever and forever.
Blow， bugle， blow， set the wild echoes flying，
And answer， echoes， answer， dying， dying， dying.
關(guān)于大學(xué)生英文詩歌篇四
The Stalin Epigram
by Osip Mandelstam (Translated by W. S. Merwin)
Our lives no longer feel ground under them.
At ten paces you can't hear our words.
But whenever there's a snatch of talk
it turns to the Kremlin mountaineer，
the ten thick worms his fingers，
his words like measures of weight，
the huge laughing cockroaches on his top lip，
the glitter of his boot-rims.
Ringed with a scum of chicken-necked bosses
he toys with the tributes of half-men.
One whistles， another meows， a third snivels.
He pokes out his finger and he alone goes boom.
He forges decrees in a line like horseshoes，
One for the groin， one the forehead， temple， eye.
He rolls the executions on his tongue like berries.
He wishes he could hug them like big friends from home.
關(guān)于大學(xué)生英文詩歌篇五
The Storm
by Theodore Roethke
1
Against the stone breakwater，
Only an ominous lapping，
While the wind whines overhead，
Coming down from the mountain，
Whistling between the arbors， the winding terraces;
A thin whine of wires， a rattling and flapping of leaves，
And the small street-lamp swinging and slamming against
the lamp pole.
Where have the people gone?
There is one light on the mountain.
2
Along the sea-wall， a steady sloshing of the swell，
The waves not yet high， but even，
Coming closer and closer upon each other;
A fine fume of rain driving in from the sea，
Riddling the sand， like a wide spray of buckshot，
The wind from the sea and the wind from the mountain contending，
Flicking the foam from the whitecaps straight upward into the darkness.
A time to go home!——
And a child's dirty shift billows upward out of an alley，
A cat runs from the wind as we do，
Between the whitening trees， up Santa Lucia，
Where the heavy door unlocks，
And our breath comes more easy，——
Then a crack of thunder， and the black rain runs over us， over
The flat-roofed houses， coming down in gusts， beating
The walls， the slatted windows， driving
The last watcher indoors， moving the cardplayers closer
To their cards， their anisette.
3
We creep to our bed， and its straw mattress.
We wait; we listen.
The storm lulls off， then redoubles，
Bending the trees half-way down to the ground，
Shaking loose the last wizened oranges in the orchard，
Flattening the limber carnations.
A spider eases himself down from a swaying light-bulb，
Running over the coverlet， down under the iron bedstead.
The bulb goes on and off， weakly.
Water roars into the cistern.
We lie closer on the gritty pillow，
Breathing heavily， hoping——
For the great last leap of the wave over the breakwater，
The flat boom on the beach of the towering sea-swell，
The sudden shudder as the jutting sea-cliff collapses，
And the hurricane drives the dead straw into the living pine-tree.
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