最經典優美的英文詩閱讀

　　詩歌用優美的形式表達思想、傳遞情感,詩可以詠志,詩可以言情,詩可以表意。下面是小編帶來的，歡迎閱讀!

　　篇一

　　Clifton Chapel

　　This is the Chapel： here， my son，

　　Your father thought the thoughts of youth，

　　And heard the words that one by one

　　The touch of Life has turn'd to truth.

　　Here in a day that is not far，

　　You too may speak with noble ghosts

　　Of manhood and the vows of war

　　You made before the Lord of Hosts.

　　To set the cause above renown，

　　To love the game beyond the prize，

　　To honour， while you strike him down，

　　The foe that comes with fearless eyes;

　　To count the life of battle good，

　　And dear the land that gave you birth，

　　And dearer yet the brotherhood

　　That binds the brave of all the earth.-

　　My son， the oath is yours： the end

　　Is His， Who built the world of strife，

　　Who gave His children Pain for friend，

　　And Death for surest hope of life.

　　To-day and here the fight's begun，

　　Of the great fellowship you're free;

　　Henceforth the School and you are one，

　　And what You are， the race shall be.

　　God send you fortune： yet be sure，

　　Among the lights that gleam and pass，

　　You'll live to follow none more pure

　　Than that which glows on yonder brass：

　　Qui procul hinc，the legend's writ，

　　The frontier-grave is far away

　　Qui ante diem periit：

　　Sed miles， sed pro patria.

　　篇二

　　A Ballad of John Nicholson

　　It fell in the year of Mutiny，

　　At darkest of the night，

　　John Nicholson by Jalándhar came，

　　On his way to Delhi fight.

　　And as he by Jalándhar came，

　　He thought what he must do，

　　And he sent to the Rajah fair greeting，

　　To try if he were true.

　　“God grant your Highness length of days，

　　And friends when need shall be;

　　And I pray you send your Captains hither，

　　That they may speak with me.“

　　On the morrow through Jalándhar town

　　The Captains rode in state;

　　They came to the house of John Nicholson，

　　And stood before the gate.

　　The chief of them was Mehtab Singh，

　　He was both proud and sly;

　　His turban gleamed with rubies red，

　　He held his chin full high.

　　He marked his fellows how they put

　　Their shoes from off their feet;

　　“Now wherefore make ye such ado

　　These fallen lords to greet?

　　“They have ruled us for a hundred years，

　　In truth I know not how，

　　But though they be fain of mastery

　　They dare not claim it now.“

　　Right haughtily before them all

　　The durbar hall he trod，

　　With rubies red his turban gleamed，

　　His feet with pride were shod.

　　They had not been an hour together，

　　A scanty hour or so，

　　When Mehtab Singh rose in his place

　　And turned about to go.

　　Then swiftly came John Nicholson

　　Between the door and him，

　　With anger smouldering in his eyes，

　　That made the rubies dim.

　　“You are over-hasty， Mehtab Singh，”

　　Oh， but his voice was low!

　　He held his wrath with a curb of iron

　　That furrowed cheek and brow.

　　“You are over-hasty， Mehtab Singh，

　　When that the rest are gone，

　　I have a word that may not wait

　　To speak with you alone.

　　The Captains passed in silence forth

　　And stood the door behind;

　　To go before the game was played

　　Be sure they had no mind.

　　But there within John Nicholson

　　Turned him on Mehtab Singh，

　　“So long as the soul is in my body

　　You shall not do this thing.

　　“Have ye served us for a hundred years

　　And yet ye know not why?

　　篇三

　　A Letter From the Front

　　I was out early to-day， spying about

　　From the top of a haystack —— such a lovely morning

　　And when I mounted again to canter back

　　I saw across a field in the broad sunlight

　　A young Gunner Subaltern， stalking along

　　With a rook-rifle held at the read， and —— would you believe it?

　　A domestic cat， soberly marching beside him.

　　So I laughed， and felt quite well disposed to the youngster，

　　And shouted out the top of the morning to him，

　　And wished him Good sport! —— and then I remembered

　　My rank， and his， and what I ought to be doing：

　　And I rode nearer， and added， I can only suppose

　　You have not seen the Commander-in-Chief's order

　　Forbidding English officers to annoy their Allies

　　By hunting and shooting.

　　But he stood and saluted

　　And said earnestly， "I beg your pardon， Sir，

　　I was only going out to shoot a sparrow

　　To feed my cat with.

　　So there was the whole picture，

　　The lovely early morning， the occasional shell

　　Screeching and scattering past us， the empty landscape，

　　Empty， except for the young Gunner saluting，

　　And the cat， anxiously watching his every movement.

　　I may be wrong， or I may have told it badly，

　　But it struck me as being extremely ludicrous