第五届致经典诵读篇目-中华经典
高中组
 

1. 《诗经·卫风·氓》（先秦）
2. 《诗经·王风·黍离》（先秦）
3. 《离骚》（节选）（先秦）屈原
4. 《短歌行》（汉）曹操
5. 《归园田居》(其一)（晋）陶渊明
6. 《西洲曲》（南朝）乐府
7. 《春江花月夜》（唐）张若虚
8. 《夜归鹿门歌》（唐）孟浩然
9. 《将进酒》（唐）李白
10. 《梦游天姥吟留别》（唐）李白
11. 《登高》（唐）杜甫
12. 《茅屋为秋风所破歌》（唐）杜甫
13. 《酬乐天扬州初逢席上见赠》（唐）白居易
14. 《琵琶行》（节选）（唐）白居易
15. 《锦瑟》（唐）李商隐
16. 《声声慢·寻寻觅觅》（宋）李清照
17. 《一剪梅·红藕香残玉簟秋》（宋）李清照
18. 《水龙吟·登建康赏心亭》（宋）辛弃疾
19. 《永遇乐·京口北固亭怀古》（宋）辛弃疾
20. 《桃花庵歌》（明）唐寅
21. 《兰亭集序》（晋）王羲之
22. 《滕王阁序》（节选）（唐）王勃
23. 《师说》（唐）韩愈
24. 《赤壁赋》（宋）苏轼
25. 《岳阳楼记》（宋）范仲淹
26. 《七律·长征》毛泽东
27. 《沁园春·长沙》毛泽东
28. 《清平乐·会昌》毛泽东
29. 《沁园春·雪》毛泽东
30. 《卜算子·咏梅》毛泽东

 

1. 诗经·卫风·氓

（先秦）
氓之蚩蚩，抱布贸丝。
匪来贸丝，来即我谋。
送子涉淇，至于顿丘。
匪我愆期，子无良媒。
将子无怒，秋以为期。

乘彼垝垣，以望复关。
不见复关，泣涕涟涟。
既见复关，载笑载言。
尔卜尔筮，体无咎言。
以尔车来，以我贿迁。

桑之未落，其叶沃若。
于嗟鸠兮，无食桑葚！
于嗟女兮，无与士耽！
士之耽兮，犹可说也。
女之耽兮，不可说也。

桑之落矣，其黄而陨。
自我徂尔，三岁食贫。
淇水汤汤，渐车帷裳。
女也不爽，士贰其行。
士也罔极，二三其德。

三岁为妇，靡室劳矣。
夙兴夜寐，靡有朝矣。
言既遂矣，至于暴矣。
兄弟不知，咥其笑矣。
静言思之，躬自悼矣。

及尔偕老，老使我怨。
淇则有岸，隰则有泮。
总角之宴，言笑晏晏。
信誓旦旦，不思其反。
反是不思，亦已焉哉！
The Faithless Man
Songs of Qin
A man seemed free from guile;
In trade he wore a smile.
He’d barter cloth for thread;
No, to me he’d be wed.
I saw him cross the ford,
But gave him not my word.
I said by hillside green:
“You have no go-between.
Try to find one, I pray.
In autumn be the day!”

I climbed the wall to wait
To see him pass the gate.
I did not see him pass;
My tears streamed down, alas!
When I saw him pass by,
I’d laugh with joy and cry. 
Both reed and tortoise shell
Foretold all would be well.
“Come with your cart,”I said,
“To you I will be wed.”

How fresh were mulberries
With their fruit on the trees!
Beware,O turtledove,
Eat not the fruit of love!
It will intoxicate.
Do not repent too late!
Man may make love at will
And won’t his vow fulfill.
If maidens do the same,
They’re never free from blame.

The mulberries appear
With yellow leaves and sear.
Three years he married me,
I’ve shared his poverty.
Deserted, from him I part;
The flood has wet my cart.
I have done nothing wrong,
But he changes all along.
Man’s fickle to excess,
Capricious, pitiless.

Three years I was his wife;
I led a toilsome life,
Each day I early rose
And late I sought repose.
But he found fault with me,
And treated me cruelly.
My brothers did not know;
Their jeers at me would go.
Mutely I ruminate,
And I deplore my fate.

He said we’d live till old;
My grief was not foretold.
The endless stream has shores,
My endless grief ever pours.
When we were girl and boy,
We’d talk and laugh with joy.
He pledged to me his troth.
How could he break his oath!
He’s forgot what he swore.
Could I say any more?
 

2. 诗经·王风·黍离

（先秦）
彼黍离离，彼稷之苗。
行迈靡靡，中心摇摇。
知我者谓我心忧，不知我者谓我何求。
悠悠苍天！此何人哉？
彼黍离离，彼稷之穗。
行迈靡靡，中心如醉。
知我者谓我心忧，不知我者谓我何求。
悠悠苍天！此何人哉？
彼黍离离，彼稷之实。
行迈靡靡，中心如噎。
知我者谓我心忧，不知我者谓我何求。
悠悠苍天！此何人哉？
The Ruined Capital
Songs of Qin
The millet drops its head;
The sorghum is in sprout.
Slowly I trudge and tread; 
My heart is tossed about.
Those who know me will say
My heart is sad and bleak;
Those who don’t know me may
Ask me for what I seek.
O boundless azure sky,
Who’s ruined the land and why?

The millet drops its head;
The sorghum in the ear.
Slowly I trudge and tread;
My heart seems drunk and drear
Those who know me will say
My heart is sad and bleak;
Those who don’t know me may
Ask me for what I seek.
O boundless azure sky,
Who’s ruined the land and why?

The millet drops its head;
The sorghum is in grain.
Slowly I trudge and tread;
My heart seems choked with pain.
Those who know me will say
My heart is sad and bleak;
Those who don't know me may
Ask me for what I seek.
O boundless azure sky,
Who’s ruined the land and why?
 

3. 离骚（节选）

（先秦）屈原
长太息以掩涕兮，哀民生之多艰。
余虽好修姱以鞿羁兮，謇朝谇而夕替。
既替余以蕙纕兮，又申之以揽茝。
亦余心之所善兮，虽九死其犹未悔。
怨灵修之浩荡兮，终不察夫民心。
众女嫉余之蛾眉兮，谣诼谓余以善淫。
固时俗之工巧兮，偭规矩而改错。
背绳墨以追曲兮，竞周容以为度。
忳郁邑余侘傺兮，吾独穷困乎此时也。
宁溘死以流亡兮，余不忍为此态也。
鸷鸟之不群兮，自前世而固然。
何方圜之能周兮，夫孰异道而相安？
屈心而抑志兮，忍尤而攘诟。
伏清白以死直兮，固前圣之所厚。
悔相道之不察兮，延伫乎吾将反。
回朕车以复路兮，及行迷之未远。
步余马于兰皋兮，驰椒丘且焉止息。
进不入以离尤兮，退将复修吾初服。
制芰荷以为衣兮，集芙蓉以为裳。
不吾知其亦已兮，苟余情其信芳。
高余冠之岌岌兮，长余佩之陆离。
芳与泽其杂糅兮，唯昭质其犹未亏。
忽反顾以游目兮，将往观乎四荒。
佩缤纷其繁饰兮，芳菲菲其弥章。
民生各有所乐兮，余独好修以为常。
虽体解吾犹未变兮，岂余心之可惩。
Lee Sao: Suffering Throes
（《英译屈原诗选》孙大雨译 上海教育出版社2007）
Qu Yuan
Heaving a sigh prolonged and wiping off my tears,
I grieve our lives mundane with thorns and hardship laid:
Although to goodness and honour I am bounden
And thus cannot but by preceptive curbs be staid,
Yet faithful counsels in the morning I submit,
La! I am relieved of my duties ere nightfall.
My worth is flouted for wearing the fragrant herbs,
And the fault is aggravated for the same gall;
But that is the one thing I heartily care for,-
Though I’d be nine times dead, I regret not at all.
I repine at Ling -sieu’s lack of penetration,
Her want of perspicacity into people’s hearts:
The calumny hath it that I am a wanton:
The riffraff is simply jealous of my fair parts.
It is the depravity of the current times
To violate equity and rebuff good rule;
People pursue the crook and trample principle and order,
Heaping up together their common gambling pool.
I am far gone in doleful throes for my distress,
As to have sunk into this afflicted plight now;
I would rather die quickly to avoid their blot,
For I could not bear such disgrace, no matter how!
Fierce-spirited birds flock not with others e'er;
It always hath been their practice from times of old.
How could the square conform suitably with the round?
How could opposites one another in peace hold?
Bending my nature just and restraining my will,
I chew the cud of blame and the disgrace gulp down;
To stand on spotlessness and die an upright death,-
That was indeed esteemed by sages of renown!
On tiptoe, straining my neck, ready to turn round,
I regret mine incaution in choosing this track;
While I have gone astray thus not very far yet,
I better retrace by the dennet my way back.
I walk mine horse on the fen grown with eupatories,
And gallop to a hillock of peppers to rest;
As I halt, because of the blame, in advancing,
In retreat, I shall don mine old clothes that seem best.
I make nelumbo and trapa leaves mine upper,
And gather lotus flowers to make my nether garments:
Being not understood- let it be as it is,
So long as mine aims are fair, despite those incumbents’!
 Let my tall, tall hat be highly set on mine head,
My bands of jade pendants be richly hung on me:
Things aromatic and lustrous are herein mixed;
My bright, pure qualities are as they use to be.
Abruptly, backwards I turn and look all about,
Ready to command a grand sight the four wilds round:
My jades and adornments are rich and manifold;
Aroma potent spread about me doth abound.
In life, one taketh delight in what one loveth;
I alone crave virtue for its own sake unbent:
E’en though I be to pieces torn, I would change not.
 

4. 短歌行

（汉）曹操
对酒当歌，人生几何！
譬如朝露，去日苦多。
慨当以慷，忧思难忘。
何以解忧？唯有杜康。
青青子衿，悠悠我心。
但为君故，沉吟至今。
呦呦鹿鸣，食野之苹。
我有嘉宾，鼓瑟吹笙。
明明如月，何时可掇？
忧从中来，不可断绝。
越陌度阡，枉用相存。
契阔谈䜩，心念旧恩。
月明星稀，乌鹊南飞。
绕树三匝，何枝可依？
山不厌高，海不厌深。
周公吐哺，天下归心。
A Short Song
Cao Cao
We should sing before wine.
For how long can life last?
Like dew on morning fine,
So many days have passed.
How can we be unbound
By grief which weighed us down?
Grief can only be drowned
In wine of good renown.
Talents with collars blue,
For you I pine away.
So much I long for you,
My heart aches night and day.
How gaily call the deer
While grazing in the shade! 
When I have talents here,
Let lute and lyre be played!
Bright as the moon on high,
How can I bring it down?
Grief from within comes nigh;
Ceaselessly it flows on.
Across the fields and lanes,
You are kind to come here.
Talking of far-off plains,
You cherish friendship dear.
The moon's bright and stars nice,
The crows in southward flight.
They circle the trees thrice;
There’s no branch to alight.
With crags high mountains rise;
With water the sea’s deep.
With the help of the wise,
An ordered world we’ll keep.
 

5. 归园田居(其一)

（晋）陶渊明
少无适俗韵，性本爱丘山。
误落尘网中，一去三十年。
羁鸟恋旧林，池鱼思故渊。
开荒南野际，守拙归园田。
方宅十余亩，草屋八九间。
榆柳荫后檐，桃李罗堂前。
暧暧远人村，依依墟里烟。
狗吠深巷中，鸡鸣桑树颠。
户庭无尘杂，虚室有余闲。
久在樊笼里，复得返自然。
Return To Nature I
Tao Yuanming
While young, I was not used to worldly cares,
And hills became my natural compeers.
But by mistake I fell in mundane snares,
And was thus entangled for thirteen years.
A caged bird would long for wonted wood,
And fish in ponds for native pools would yearn.
Go back to till my southern field I would,
To live a rural life why not return?
My plot of ground is but ten acres square;
My thatched cottage has eight or nine rooms.
In front I have peach trees here and plums there;
Over back eaves willows and elms cast glooms.
A village can be seen in distant dark,
Where plumes of smoke rise and waft in the breeze.
In alley deep a dog is heard to bark,
And cocks crow as if over mulberry trees.
Into my courtyard no one should intrude,
Nor rob my private rooms of peace and leisure
After long, long official servitude,
Again in nature I find homely pleasure.
 

6. 西洲曲

（南朝）乐府
忆梅下西洲，折梅寄江北。
单衫杏子红，双鬓鸦雏色。
西洲在何处？两桨桥头渡。
日暮伯劳飞，风吹乌臼树。
树下即门前，门中露翠钿。
开门郎不至，出门采红莲。
采莲南塘秋，莲花过人头。
低头弄莲子，莲子青如水。
置莲怀袖中，莲心彻底红。
忆郎郎不至，仰首望飞鸿。
鸿飞满西洲，望郎上青楼。
楼高望不见，尽日栏杆头。
栏杆十二曲，垂手明如玉。
卷帘天自高，海水摇空绿。
海水梦悠悠，君愁我亦愁。
南风知我意，吹梦到西洲。
Song of the Western Islet
In dream I see mume blossoms snowing;
To Western Isle again I’m going.
I’ll send a sprig to northern shore
For my beloved I see no more.
In apricot-yellow silk dress,
E’en blackbirds envy my dark tress.
Where is the Western Islet? Where?
I row across the bridge o’er there
Only to find shrikes wheeling low
And through the trees at dusk winds blow.
Beneath the trees, inside the gate,
My hair adorned,I come to wait.
My lover comes not to my bower;
I go to gather lotus flower.
In south pool I pluck lotus red,
Which grows e’en high above my head.
I bow and pick up its love-seed
So green that water can’t exceed.
I put the love-seed in one sleeve,
Red at the core as I perceive.
He never comes; I’m ill at ease
And watch for message-bearing geese.
The wild geese are mute as the flower;
I go on top of the blue tower.
To bring him within sight it fails;
All day long I stop at the rails.
In vain I lean on balustrade,
Letting fall my hands white like jade.
I see as I roll up the screen
The sky and waves in vain are green.
I dream as dreams the boundless sea.
From grief nor he nor I am free.
Should south wind know what’s in my breast,
It would blow my dream to Islet West.
 

7. 春江花月夜

（唐）张若虚
春江潮水连海平，海上明月共潮生。
滟滟随波千万里，何处春江无月明！
江流宛转绕芳甸，月照花林皆似霰；
空里流霜不觉飞，汀上白沙看不见。
江天一色无纤尘，皎皎空中孤月轮。
江畔何人初见月？江月何年初照人？
人生代代无穷已，江月年年望相似。
不知江月待何人，但见长江送流水。
白云一片去悠悠，青枫浦上不胜愁。
谁家今夜扁舟子？何处相思明月楼？
可怜楼上月裴回，应照离人妆镜台。
玉户帘中卷不去，捣衣砧上拂还来。
此时相望不相闻，愿逐月华流照君。
鸿雁长飞光不度，鱼龙潜跃水成文。
昨夜闲潭梦落花，可怜春半不还家。
江水流春去欲尽，江潭落月复西斜。
斜月沉沉藏海雾，碣石潇湘无限路。
不知乘月几人归，落月摇情满江树。
The Moon over the River on a Spring Night
Zhang Ruoxu
In spring the river rises as high as the sea,
And with the river’s tide uprises the moon bright.
She follows the rolling waves for ten thousand li;
Where’ er the river flows, there overflows her light.
The river winds around the fragrant islet where
The blooming flowers in her light all look like snow.
You cannot tell her beams from hoar frost in the air,
Nor from white sand upon the Farewell Beach below.
No dust has stained the water blending with the skies;
A lonely wheellike moon shines brilliant far and wide.
Who by the riverside did first see the moon rise?
When did the moon first see a man by riverside?
Many generations have come and passed away;
From year to year the moons look alike, old and new.
We do not know tonight for whom she sheds her ray,
But hear the river say to its water adieu.
Away, away is sailing a single cloud white;
On Farewell Beach are pining away maples green.
Where is the wanderer sailing his boat tonight?
Who, pining away, on the moonlit rails would lean?
Alas! the moon is lingering over the tower;
It should have seen her dressing table all alone.
She may roll curtains up, but light is in her bower;
She may wash, but moonbeams still remain on the stone.
She sees the moon, but her husband is out of sight;
She would follow the moonbeams to shine on his face.
But message-bearing swans can’t fly out of moonlight,
Nor letter-sending fish can leap out of their place.
He dreamed of flowers falling o’er the pool last night;
Alas! spring has half gone, but he can’t homeward go.
The water bearing spring will run away in flight;
The moon over the pool will in the west sink low.
In the mist on the sea the slanting moon will hide;
It’s a long way from northern hills to southern streams.
How many can go home by moonlight on the tide?
The setting moon sheds o'er riverside trees but dreams.
 

8. 夜归鹿门歌

（唐）孟浩然
山寺钟鸣昼已昏，渔梁渡头争渡喧。
人随沙岸向江村，余亦乘舟归鹿门。
鹿门月照开烟树，忽到庞公栖隐处。
岩扉松径长寂寥，惟有幽人自来去。
Return to Deer Gate at Night
Meng Haoran
The temple bell tolls the knell of the parting day,
Noisy people at the ferry precipitate.
Along the shore to their village they wedge their way,
I go by boat to my hermitage at Deer Gate.
Moonbeams over the Gate shine on mist- shrouded trees;
I come to ancient hermitage as well as mine.
The solitude amid gate-like cliffs would please.
A hermit pacing freely on the path of pines.
 

9. 将进酒

（唐）李白
君不见黄河之水天上来，奔流到海不复回!
君不见高堂明镜悲白发，朝如青丝暮成雪!
人生得意须尽欢，莫使金樽空对月。
天生我材必有用，千金散尽还复来。
烹羊宰牛且为乐，会须一饮三百杯。
岑夫子，丹丘生，将进酒，杯莫停。
与君歌一曲，请君为我倾耳听。
钟鼓馔玉不足贵，但愿长醉不复醒。
古来圣贤皆寂寞，惟有饮者留其名。
陈王昔时宴平乐，斗酒十千恣欢谑。
主人何为言少钱，径须沽取对君酌。
五花马，千金裘，呼儿将出换美酒，与尔同销万古愁。
Invitation to Wine
Li Bai
Do you not see the Yellow River come from the sky,
Rushing into the sea and ne’er come back?
Do you not see the mirrors bright in chambers high
Grieve o’er your snow-white hair though once it was silk-black?
When hopes are won, oh! drink your fill in high delight,
And never leave your wine-cup empty in moonlight!
Heaven has made us talents, we’re not made in vain.
A thousand gold coins spent, more will turn up again.
Kill a cow, cook a sheep and let us merry be,
And drink three hundred cupfuls of wine in high glee!
Dear friends of mine,
Cheer up, cheer up!
I invite you to wine.
Do not put down your cup!
I will sing you a song, please hear,
O hear! lend me a willing ear!
What difference will rare and costly dishes make?
I only want to get drunk and never to wake.
How many great men were forgotten through the ages?
But great drinkers are more famous than sober sages.
The Prince of Poets feast’d in his palace at will,
Drank wine at ten thousand a cask and laughed his fill.
A host should not complain of money he is short,
To drink with you I will sell things of any sort,
My fur coat worth a thousand coins of gold
And my flower-dappled horse may be sold
To buy good wine that we may drown the woes age-old.
 

10. 梦游天姥吟留别

（唐）李白
海客谈瀛洲，烟涛微茫信难求；
越人语天姥，云霞明灭或可睹。
天姥连天向天横，势拔五岳掩赤城。
天台四万八千丈，对此欲倒东南倾。
我欲因之梦吴越，一夜飞度镜湖月。
湖月照我影，送我至剡溪。
谢公宿处今尚在，渌水荡漾清猿啼。
脚著谢公屐，身登青云梯。
半壁见海日，空中闻天鸡。
千岩万转路不定，迷花倚石忽已暝。
熊咆龙吟殷岩泉，栗深林兮惊层巅。
云青青兮欲雨，水澹澹兮生烟。
列缺霹雳，丘峦崩摧。
洞天石扉，訇然中开。
青冥浩荡不见底，日月照耀金银台。
霓为衣兮风为马，云之君兮纷纷而来下。
虎鼓瑟兮鸾回车，仙之人兮列如麻。
忽魂悸以魄动，恍惊起而长嗟。
惟觉时之枕席，失向来之烟霞。
世间行乐亦如此，古来万事东流水。
别君去兮何时还？且放白鹿青崖间。须行即骑访名山。
安能摧眉折腰事权贵，使我不得开心颜！
Mount Skyland Ascended in a Dream-A Song of Farewell
Li Bai
Of fairy isles seafarers speak,
’Mid dimming mist and surging waves, so hard to seek;
Of Skyland Southerners are proud,
Perceivable through fleeting or dispersing cloud.
Mount Skyland threatens heaven, massed against the sky,
Surpassing the Five Peaks and dwarfing Mount Red Town.
Mount Heaven’ s Terrace, five hundred thousand feet high,
Nearby to the southeast, appears to crumbled down.
Longing in dreams for Southern land, one night
I flew o’er Mirror Lake in moonlight.
My shadow’s followed by moonbeams
Until I reach Shimmering Streams,
Where Hermitage of Master Xie can still be seen,
And clearly gibbons wail o’er rippling water green.
I put Xie’s pegged boot
Each on one foot,
And scale the mountain ladder to blue cloud
On eastern cliff I see
Sunrise at sea,
And in mid-air I hear sky-cock crow loud,
The footpath meanders ’mid a thousand crags in the vale,
I'm lured by rocks and flowers when the day turns pale.
Bears roar and dragons howl and thunders the cascade.
Deep forests quake and ridges tremble: they are afraid!
From dark, dark cloud comes rain;
On pale, pale waves mists plane.
Oh! lightning flashes
And thunder rumbles,
With stunning crashes
Peak on peak crumbles.
The stone gate of a fairy cavern under
Suddenly breaks asunder.
So blue,so deep so vast appears an endless sky,
Where sun and moon shine on gold and silver terraces high.
Clad in the rainbow,riding on the wind,
The Lords of Clouds descend in a procession long.
Their chariots drawn by phoenix disciplined,
And tigers playing for them a zither song.
Row upon row,like fields of hemp,immortals throng.
Suddenly my heart and soul stirred,I
Awake with a long,long sigh.
I find my head on pillow lie
And fair visions gone by.
Likewise all human joys will pass away
Just as east-flowing water of olden day.
I’ll take my leave of you, not knowing for how long.
I’ll tend a white deer among
The grassy slopes of the green hill
So that I may ride it to famous mountains at will.
How can I stoop and bow before the men in power
And so deny myself a happy hour!
 

11. 登高

（唐）杜甫
风急天高猿啸哀，渚清沙白鸟飞回。
无边落木萧萧下，不尽长江滚滚来。
万里悲秋常作客，百年多病独登台。
艰难苦恨繁霜鬓，潦倒新停浊酒杯。
On the Height
Du Fu
The wind so swift, the sky so wide, apes wail and cry;
Water so clear and beach so white, birds wheel and fly.
The boundless forest sheds its leaves shower by shower;
The endless river rolls its waves hour after hour,
A thousand miles from home, I’m grieved at autumn’s plight;
Ill now and then for years, alone I’m on this height,
Living in times so hard, at frosted hair I pine;
Cast down by poverty, I have to give up wine.

12. 茅屋为秋风所破歌

My Cottage Unroofed By Autumn Gales
Du Fu
In the eighth moon the autumn gales furiously howl;
They roll up three layers of straw from my thatched bower.
The straw flies across the river and spreads in shower,
Some hanging knotted on the tops of trees that tower,
Some swirling down and sinking into water foul.
Urchins from southern village know I’m old and weak,
They rob me to my face without a blush on the cheek,
And holding armfuls of straw, into bamboos they sneak.
In vain I call them till my lips are parched and dry;
Again alone, I lean on my cane and sigh.
Shortly the gale subsides and clouds turn dark as ink;
The autumn skies are shrouded and in darkness sink.
My cotton quilt is cold, for years it has been worn;
My restless children kick in sleep and it is torn.
The roof leaks o’er beds, leaving no corner dry;
Without cease the rain falls thick and fast from the sky.
After the troubled times troubled has been my sleep.
Wet through, how can I pass the night so long, so deep!
Could I get mansions covering ten thousand miles,
I’d house all scholars poor and make them beam with smiles.
In wind and rain these mansions would stand like mountains high.
Alas! Should these houses appear before my eye,
Frozen in my unroofed cot, content I’d die.
 

13. 酬乐天扬州初逢席上见赠

（唐）刘禹锡
巴山楚水凄凉地，二十三年弃置身。
怀旧空吟闻笛赋，到乡翻似烂柯人。
沉舟侧畔千帆过，病树前头万木春。
今日听君歌一曲，暂凭杯酒长精神。
Reply to Bai Juyi Whom I Meet for the First Time at a Banquet in Yangzhou
Liu Yuxi
O Western Mountains and Southern Streams desolate,
Where I, an exile, lived for twenty years and three!
To mourn for my departed friends I come too late;
In native land I look but like human debris.
A thousand sails pass by the side of sunken ship;
Ten thousand flowers bloom ahead of injured tree.
Today I hear you chant the praises of friendship;
I wish this cup of wine might well inspirit me.
 

14. 琵琶行（节选）

（唐）白居易
千呼万唤始出来，犹抱琵琶半遮面。
转轴拨弦三两声，未成曲调先有情。
弦弦掩抑声声思，似诉平生不得志。
低眉信手续续弹，说尽心中无限事。
轻拢慢捻抹复挑，初为《霓裳》后《六幺》。
大弦嘈嘈如急雨，小弦切切如私语。
嘈嘈切切错杂弹，大珠小珠落玉盘。
间关莺语花底滑，幽咽泉流冰下难。
冰泉冷涩弦凝绝，凝绝不通声暂歇。
别有幽愁暗恨生，此时无声胜有声。
银瓶乍破水浆迸，铁骑突出刀枪鸣。
曲终收拨当心画，四弦一声如裂帛。
东船西舫悄无言，唯见江心秋月白。
Song of a Pipa Player (An excerpt)
Bai Juyi
Repeatedly we called for the fair player till
She came, her face half hidden behind a pipa still.
She turned the pegs and tested twice or thrice each string;
Before a tune was played we heard her feelings sing.
Each string she plucked, each note she struck with pathos strong,
All seemed to say she’d missed her dreams all her life long.
Head bent, she played with unpremeditated art
On and on to pour out her overflowing heart.
She lightly plucked, slowly stroked and twanged loud
The song of “Green Waist” after that of “Rainbow Cloud”.
The thick strings loudly thrummed like the pattering rain;
The fine strings softly tinkled in a murmuring strain.
When mingling loud and soft notes were together played,
You heard large and small pearls cascade on plate of jade.
Now you heard orioles warble in flowery land,
Then a sobbing stream run along a beach of sand.
But the stream seemed so cold as to tighten the string;
From tightened strings no more sound could be heard to sing.
Still we heard hidden grief and vague regret concealed;
Then music expressed far less than silence revealed.
Suddenly we heard water burst a silver jar,
And the clash of spears and sabres coming from afar.
She made a central sweep when the music was ending;
The four strings made one sound, as of silk one is rending.
Silence reigned left and right of the boat, east and west;
We saw but autumn moon white in the river’s breast.
 

15. 锦瑟

（唐）李商隐
锦瑟无端五十弦，一弦一柱思华年。
庄生晓梦迷蝴蝶，望帝春心托杜鹃。
沧海月明珠有泪，蓝田日暖玉生烟。
此情可待成追忆，只是当时已惘然。
The Sad Zither
Li Shangyin
Why should the zither sad have fifty strings?
Each string, each strain evokes but vanished springs.
Dim morning dream to be a butterfly;
Amorous heart poured out in cuckoo’s cry.
In moonlit pearls see tears in mermaid’s eyes;
From sunburnt emerald watch vapor rise!
Such feeling cannot be recalled again;
It seemed long lost even when it was felt then.
 

16. 声声慢·寻寻觅觅

（宋）李清照
寻寻觅觅，
冷冷清清，
凄凄惨惨戚戚。
乍暖还寒时候，
最难将息。
三杯两盏淡酒，
怎敌他晚来风急？
雁过也，
正伤心，
却是旧时相识。

满地黄花堆积，
憔悴损，
如今有谁堪摘！
守着窗儿，
独自怎生得黑？
梧桐更兼细雨，
到黄昏点点滴滴。
这次第，
怎一个愁字了得！
Tune: Slow, Slow Song
Li Qingzhao
I look for what I miss;
I know not what it is.
I feel so sad, so drear,
So lonely, without cheer.
How hard is it
To keep me fit
In this lingering cold!
Hardly warmed up
By cup on cup
Of wine so dry,
Oh, how could I
Endure at dusk the drift
Of wind so swift?
It breaks my heart, alas!
To see the wild geese pass,
For they are my acquaintances of old.

The ground is covered with yellow flowers,
Faded and fallen in showers.
Who will pick them up now?
Sitting alone at the window, how
Could I but quicken
The pace of darkness that won’t thicken?
On broad plane leaves a fine rain drizzles
As twilight grizzles.
Oh, what can I do with a grief
Beyond belief!
 

17. 一剪梅·红藕香残玉簟秋

（宋）李清照
红藕香残玉簟秋。轻解罗裳，独上兰舟。云中谁寄锦书来，雁字回时，月满西楼。
花自飘零水自流。一种相思，两处闲愁。此情无计可消除，才下眉头，却上心头。
A Twig of Mume Blossoms
Li Qingzhao
Fragrant lotus blooms fade, autumn chills mat of jade.
My silk robe doffed, I float
Alone in orchid boat.
Who in the cloud would bring me letters in brocade?
When swans come back in flight,
My bower is steeped in moonlight.

As fallen flowers drift and water runs its way,
One longing leaves no traces
O how can such lovesickness be driven away?
From eyebrows kept apart,
Again it gnaws my heart.
 

18. 水龙吟·登建康赏心亭

（宋）辛弃疾
楚天千里清秋，水随天去秋无际。
遥岑远目，献愁供恨，玉簪螺髻。
落日楼头，断鸿声里，江南游子。
把吴钩看了，阑干拍遍，无人会，登临意。
休说鲈鱼堪脍，尽西风，季鹰归未。
求田问舍，怕应羞见，刘郎才气。
可惜流年，忧愁风雨，树犹如此！
倩何人唤取，红巾翠袖，揾英雄泪。
Water Dragon Chant
Xin Qiji
The Southern sky for miles and miles in autumn dye
And boundless autumn water spread to meet the sky,
I gaze on far-off northern hills
Like spiral shells or hair decor of jade,
Which grief or hatred overfills.
Leaning at sunset on balustrade
And hearing a lonely swan’s song,
A wanderer on southern land,
I look at my precious sword long
And pound all the railings with my hand,
But nobody knows why
I climb the tower high.

Don’t say for food
The perch is good!
When west winds blow,
Why don’t I homeward go?
I’d be ashamed to see the patriot,
Should I retire to seek for land and cot.
I sigh for passing years I can’t retain;
In driving wind and blinding rain
Even an old tree grieves.
To whom then may I say
To wipe my tears away
With her pink handkerchief or her green sleeves?
 

19. 永遇乐·京口北固亭怀古

（宋）辛弃疾
千古江山，英雄无觅，孙仲谋处。
舞榭歌台，风流总被，雨打风吹去。
斜阳草树，寻常巷陌，人道寄奴曾住。
想当年，金戈铁马，气吞万里如虎。
元嘉草草，封狼居胥，赢得仓皇北顾。
四十三年，望中犹记，烽火扬州路。
可堪回首，佛狸祠下，一片神鸦社鼓。
凭谁问，廉颇老矣，尚能饭否？
Joy of Eternal Union
Xin Qiji
The land is boundless as of yore,
But nowhere can be found
A hero like the king defending southern shore.
The singing hall,the dancing ground,
All gallant deeds now sent away
By driving wind and blinding rain!
The slanting sun sheds its departing ray
O’er tree-shaded and grassy lane
Where lived the Cowherd King retaking the lost land.
In bygone years,
Leading armed cavaliers,
With golden spear in hand
Tigerlike, he had slain
The foe on the thousand-mile Central Plain.

His son launched in haste a northern campaign;
Defeated at Mount Wolf,he shed his tears in vain.
I still remember three and forty years ago
The thriving town destroyed in flames by the foe.
How can I bear
To see the chief aggressor's shrine
Worshipped ’mid crows and drumbeats as divine?
Who would still care
If an old general
Is strong enough to take back the lost capital?
 

20. 桃花庵歌

（明）唐寅
桃花坞里桃花庵，桃花庵下桃花仙；
桃花仙人种桃树，又摘桃花换酒钱。
酒醒只在花前坐，酒醉还来花下眠；
半醒半醉日复日，花落花开年复年。
但愿老死花酒间，不愿鞠躬车马前；
车尘马足富者趣，酒盏花枝贫者缘。
若将富贵比贫贱，一在平地一在天；
若将贫贱比车马，他得驱驰我得闲。
别人笑我忒疯癫，我笑他人看不穿；
不见五陵豪杰墓，无花无酒锄作田。
Song of Peach Blossom cottage
Tang Yin
In the Peach Blossom Land there is a peach blossom plot;
A peach blossom lover lives in Peach Blossom Cot.
The peach blossom lover plants peach trees in days fine;
He sells his peach blossoms for money to buy wine.
When he is not drunk, he would sit before the flowers;
He would lie beneath them to spend his drunken hours.
From day to day half-drunk, half-sober he’d appear;
The peach flowers blossom and fall from year to year.
I would grow old and die among flowers and wine,
Rather than bow before the steed and carriage fine.
The rich may love their dust-raising carriages and bowers;
The poor only enjoy their cup of wine and flowers.
If you compare the poor with the rich low and high,
You’ll find the one on earth, the other in the sky.
If you compare the poor while the carriage and steed,
The poor have leisure while the rich gallop with speed.
Others may pity me so foolish and so mad;
I laugh at them for those who can’t see through are sad.
Can you find where the tombs of gallant heroes stand?
Without flowers or wine they turn into ploughland.
 

21. 兰亭集序

（晋）王羲之 At the Orchid Pavilion
(A history of Chinese Literature by Lai Ming, Cassell, London,1964)
Wang Xizhi  

22. 滕王阁序（节选）

（唐）王勃 The Pavilion of Prince Teng(An excerpt)
(A selection of Fu and Prefaces, by T.C. Lai and Monica Lai, Hong Kong 1979)
Wang Bo
It is the ninth moon.
In the autumn season.
The water by the roadside has dried up. 
The lakes are cold and pellucid.
The tints of the mists blend together,
And the mountains appear purple at eve.
We proceeded along the high road
In stately horse-drawn carriages,
Admiring the beauty

Of the majestic mountains.
Soon we reached this long island
On which was built the old palace of the Prince.
The emerald edifice with its many terraces
Nestles in the midst of billowy clouds.
The tall red pavilion hovers over the river,
With no land below in sight.
Islets with cranes and wild ducks
Form a circuitous group in the water.
Palaces redolent of cassia and orchids,
Emulate the sweep and grandeur of the undulating hills.

Pushing aside the embroidered screens,
We look out, leaning on carved balustrades.
The mountains and plains fill our startled vision;
The majestic rivers take our breath away.
Down there the plain is teeming with houses of the rich
Where meal-time is announced by bells ,
And bronze tripods brighten their dining halls.
The piers are crowded with large vessels
With carved blue birds and yellow dragons at their stern.
The clouds having dispersed, it ceases to rain;
The rainbow has faded; the whole land brightens.
A solitary wild duck joins the speeding sunset clouds;
The autumn waters and the sky share the same hue.
The fishermen sing on their boats at dusk,
Their songs reach the shores of Lake Pengli.
Flying wild geese sense the coming of frost!
Their cries reverberate on the waterfront of Hengyang.
We experience a great sense of relief.
And our spirits begin to soar.
When the notes of flutes and pipes fill the air,
We feel a cool breeze rising.
When the delicate melodies pause in mid-stream,
The clouds stand still in the sky.
Here are bamboos tall as those in the Sui Garden.
Drinking in their shade should be more exhilarating
Than even in a banquet given by Tao Qian
When he was prefect of Pengze.
With red blossoms by the green lake
Reminding one of the scenic Ye Waters,
We should emulate the poetic skill of Xie Lingyun
When he was governor of Linchuan.
Thus the Four Desirables are complete
And the Two Rare Things are both present.

I look up for a long time at the blue vault
And regale myself to the full on this day of rest.
The sky is high and the earth is vast.
I feel the immensity of the universe.
When joy is at its peak, sorrow creeps in;
The waxing and waning of life is predestined.
I gaze into the distance and Chang’an is under the sun
I strain my eyes and Wuhui is in the clouds;
At land's end there is the deep Antarctic;
The Sky Pillar is high and the North Star is remote.
The mountain passes are difficult to cross;
Who would pity the lost traveller?
like streamlets converging only to part again
We,away from home,are all sojourners.
We long in vain
To gain access to the Palace Gate,
And wonder when
We can have an audience with His Majesty.
Alas, the caprice of fortune,
The path of which is filled with obstacles.
The talented Feng Tang soon grew old and remained unknown;
Li Guang was not enfeoffed despite his brave campaigns.
When Jia Yi was a mere tutor to The Prince of Changsha,
It was not a time without a good ruler.
When Liang Hong sought refuge on a remote shore.
It was not in a period of turmoil.
Nevertheless, the superior man can discern
What Fate has in store,
And the man of great understanding
Accepts his Destiny.
His resolution is the stronger despite his old age;
He will not change because his hair is turning grey.
His determination is the greater in times of adversity,
He would be refreshed and remain uncorrupted
Though he drinks from the Spring of Avarice;
And he would maintain a happy state
Even if he were in straitened circumstances.
Though the North Sea is remote,
It can be reached with the help of the wind.
The rays of dawn
Have disappeared from the east,
But it is not too late
Even if the stars Sang and Yu are already here.
We admire the patriotic Meng Chang
Who cherished his noble aspirations in vain.
How can we follow the unruly Ruan Ji,
Who wailed at the road’s end?
 

23. 师说

（唐）韩愈 On Teachers
(Poetry and Prose of the Han, Wei and Six Dynasties汉魏六朝诗文选, translated by Yang Xianyi and Gladys Yang, Panda Books, Beijing, 1986)
Han Yu  

24. 赤壁赋

（宋）苏轼 First Visit to the Red Cliff
(Poetry and Prose of the Han, Wei and Six Dynasties汉魏六朝诗文选, translated by Yang Xianyi and Gladys Yang, Panda Books, Beijing, 1986)
Su Shi  

25. 岳阳楼记

（宋）范仲淹 Yueyang Pavilion
(Poetry and Prose of the Han, Wei and Six Dynasties汉魏六朝诗文选, translated by Yang Xianyi and Gladys Yang, Panda Books, Beijing, 1986)
Fan Zhongyan  

26. 七律·长征

毛泽东
红军不怕远征难，
万水千山只等闲。
五岭逶迤腾细浪，
乌蒙磅礴走泥丸。

金沙水拍云崖暖，
大渡桥横铁索寒。
更喜岷山千里雪，
三军过后尽开颜。

The Long March
Mao Zedong
Of the trying Long March the Red Army makes light:
Thousands of rivers and mountains are barriers slight.
The five serpentine Ridges outspread like rippling rills;
The pompous Wumeng peaks tower but like mole-hills.

Against warm cloudy cliffs beat waves of Golden Sand;
With cold iron-chain bridge River Dadu is spanned.
Glad to see the Min Range snow-clad for miles and miles,
Our warriors who have crossed it break into broad smiles.
 

27. 沁园春·长沙

毛泽东
独立寒秋，湘江北去，橘子洲头。
看万山红遍，层林尽染；漫江碧透，百舸争流。
鹰击长空，鱼翔浅底，万类霜天竞自由。
怅寥廓，问苍茫大地，谁主沉浮？
携来百侣曾游，忆往昔峥嵘岁月稠。
恰同学少年，风华正茂；书生意气，挥斥方遒。
指点江山，激扬文字，粪土当年万户侯。
曾记否，到中流击水，浪遏飞舟？
Tune:Spring in a Pleasure Garden
Changsha
Mao Zedong
Alone stand I in autumn cold,
Of Orange Islet at the head,
Where River Xiang goes north. Behold！
Hills upon hills are all in red,
Woods upon woods in crimson dressed.
The river green down to the bed,
A hundred ships in speed contest.
Far and wide eagles cleave the air;
Up and down fish glide o’er depths clear:
All creatures under frosty skies vie to be freer.
Brooding o’er immensity there,
I wonder in this world so vast and dim,
Who decides who will sink or swim.
With many friends I oft came here.
How thick with salient days those bygone times appear!
When,students in the flower of our age,
Our spirit bright was at its height,
Full of the scholar’s noble rage,
We criticized with all our might.
Pointing to stream and hill,
Writing in blame or praise,
We treat’d like dirt all mighty lords of olden days.
Do you remember still,
Swimming mid-stream, we struck the waves to stay
The boats speeding their way?
 

28. 清平乐·会昌

毛泽东
东方欲晓，莫道君行早。
踏遍青山人未老，风景这边独好。
会昌城外高峰，颠连直接东溟。
战士指看南粤，更加郁郁葱葱。
Tune:Pure Serene Music
Huichang
Mao Zedong
Dawn tinges the eastern skies.
Boast not you start before sunrise.
We have trodden green mountains without growing old.
What scenery unique here we behold!

Peaks after peaks outside Huichang, as if in motion,
Undulate until they join with the eastern ocean.
Our warriors, pointing south, see Guangdong loom
In a richer green and a lusher gloom.
 

29. 沁园春·雪

毛泽东
北国风光，千里冰封，万里雪飘。
望长城内外，惟余莽莽；大河上下，顿失滔滔。
山舞银蛇，原驰蜡象，欲与天公试比高。
须晴日，看红妆素裹，分外妖娆。
江山如此多娇，引无数英雄竞折腰。
惜秦皇汉武，略输文采；唐宗宋祖，稍逊风骚。
一代天骄，成吉思汗，只识弯弓射大雕。
俱往矣，数风流人物，还看今朝。
Tune:Spring in a Pleasure Garden
Snow
Mao Zedong
See what the northern countries show:
Hundreds of leagues ice-bound go;
Thousands of leagues flies snow.
Behold! Within and without the Great Wall
The boundless land is clad in white,
And up and down the Yellow River, all
The endless waves are lost to sight.
Mountains like silver serpents dancing,
Highlands like waxy elephants advancing,
All try to match the sky in height.
Wait till the day is fine
And see the fair bask in sparkling sunshine,
What an enchanting sight!
Our motherland so rich in beauty
Has made countless heroes vie to pay her their duty.
But alas! Qin Huang and Han Wu
In culture not well bred,
And Tang Zong and Song Zu
In letters not wide read.
And Genghis Khan, proud son of Heaven for a day,
Knew only shooting eagles by bending his bows.
They have all passed away;
Brilliant heroes are those
Whom we will see today!
 

30. 卜算子·咏梅

毛泽东
风雨送春归，飞雪迎春到。
已是悬崖百丈冰，犹有花枝俏。
俏也不争春，只把春来报。
待到山花烂漫时，她在丛中笑。
Tune:Song of Divination
Ode to the Mume Blossom
Mao Zedong
On reading Lu You’s “Ode to the Mume Blossom,” I countered it with the following lines.
Then spring depart’d in wind and rain;
With flying snow it’s back again.
Though icicles from beetling cliffs still hang miles long,
One flower sweet and fair is thereamong.

Though sweet and fair, with other flowers she won’t rival,
But only heralds spring’s arrival.
When mountain flowers run riot for miles and miles,
Among them she will be all smiles.





第五届致经典诵读篇目-西方经典
高中组
 

1. Sea Fever（by John Masefield）  
2. The Glove and the Lions（by Leigh Hunt）     
3. The Long Hill（by Sara Teasdale）    
4. Those Winter Sundays（by Robert Hayden）   
5. My Papa’s Waltz（by Theodore Roethke）
6. The Road Not Taken（by Robert Frost）   
7. Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening（by Robert Frost）
8. Richard Cory（by Edwin Arlington Robinson）      
9. The Fountain（by James Russell Lowell） 
10. I’m Nobody! Who Are You?（by Emily Dickinson）     
11. Embassy（by W. H. Auden） 
12. Loveliest of Trees（by A. E. Housman）   
13. The African Lion（by A. E. Housman）    
14. Ah, Are You Digging on My Grave?（by Thomas Hardy）  
15. The Man He Killed（by Thomas Hardy）        
16. The Lake Isle of Innisfree（by W. B. Yeats）    
17. The Eagle: A Fragment（by Alfred, Lord Tennyson）     
18. Break, Break, Break（by Alfred, Lord Tennyson）          
19. On First Looking into Chapman’s Homer（by John Keats） 
20. On the Grasshopper and the Cricket（by John Keats）  
21. Ozymandias（by Percy Bysshe Shelley）   
22. A Song: “Men of England”（by Percy Bysshe Shelley）
23. She Dwelt among the Untrodden Ways（by William Wordsworth）   
24. The Solitary Reaper（by William Wordsworth）      
25. I Wandered Lonely as a Cloud       （by William Wordsworth）
26. A Red, Red Rose（by Robert Burns）
27. The Chimney Sweeper (from Songs of Innocence)（by William Blake）
28. Spring（by Thomas Nashe） 
29. Songs: Spring & Winter (from Love’s Labour’s Lost)       （by William Shakespeare）
30. Sonnet 18     （by William Shakespeare）

1. Sea Fever
John Masefield
 
I must go down to the seas again, to the lonely sea and the sky,
And all I ask is a tall ship and a star to steer her by,
And the wheel’s kick and the wind’s song and the white sail’s shaking,
And a gray mist on the sea’s face and a gray dawn breaking.
 
I must go down to the seas again, for the call of the running tide
Is a wild call and a clear call that may not be denied;
And all I ask is a windy day with the white clouds flying,
And the flung spray and the blown spume, and the sea gulls crying.
 
I must go down to the seas again to the vagrant gypsy life,
To the gull's way and the whale's way where the wind’s like a whetted knife:
And all I ask is a merry yarn from a laughing fellow-rover,
And quiet sleep and sweet dream when the long trick’s over.



2. The Glove and the Lions
Leigh Hunt
 
King Francis was a hearty king, and loved a royal sport,
And one day, as his lions fought, sat looking on the court;
The nobles fill’d the benches, and the ladies in their pride,
And ’mongst them sat the Count de Lorge, with one for whom he sigh’d:
And truly ’twas a gallant thing to see that crowning show,
Valour and love, and a king above, and the royal beasts below.
 
Ramp’d and roar’d the lions, with horrid laughing jaws;
They bit, they glared, gave blows like beams, a wind went with their paws;
With wallowing might and stifled roar they roll’d on one another,
Till all the pit with sand and mane was in a thunderous smother;
The bloody foam above the bars came whisking through the air;
Said Francis then, “Faith, gentlemen, we’re better here than there.”
 
De Lorge’s love overheard the King, a beauteous lively dame,
With smiling lips and sharp bright eyes, which always seemed the same;
She thought, “The Count my lover is brave as brave can be;                       
He surely would do wondrous things to show his love of me;
King, ladies, lovers, all look on; the occasion is divine;
I’ll drop my glove to prove his love; great glory will be mine.”
 
She dropped her glove to prove his love, then looked at him and smiled;
He bowed, and in a moment leaped among the lions wild:
The leap was quick, return was quick, he has regained the place,
Then threw the glove, but not with love, right in the lady’s face.
“My faith!” said Francis, “rightly done!” and he rose from where he sat:
“No love,” quoth he, “but vanity, sets love a task like that.”



3. The Long Hill
Sara Teasdale
 
I must have passed the crest a while ago
    And now I am going down —
Strange to have passed the crest and not to know,
    But the brambles were always catching the hem of my gown.
 
All the morning I thought how proud I should be
    To stand there straight as a queen,
Wrapped in the wind and the sun with the world under me —
    But the air was dull, there was little I could have seen.
 
It was nearly level along the beaten track
    And the brambles caught in my gown—
But it’s no use now to think of turning back,
    The rest of the way will be only going down.



4. Those Winter Sundays
Robert Hayden
 
Sundays too my father got up early
and put his clothes on in blueblack cold,
then with cracked hands that ached
from labor in the weekday weather made
banked fires blaze. No one ever thanked him.
 
I'd wake and hear the cold splintering, breaking.
When the rooms were warm, he'd call,
and slowly I would rise and dress,
fearing the chronic angers of that house,
 
speaking indifferently to him,
who had driven out the cold
and polished my good shoes as well.
What did I know, what did I know
of love’s austere and lonely offices?



5. My Papa’s Waltz
Theodore Roethke

The whiskey on your breath
Could make a small boy dizzy;
But I hung on like death:
Such waltzing was not easy.
 
We romped until the pans
Slid from the kitchen shelf;
My mother’s countenance
Could not unfrown itself.
 
The hand that held my wrist
Was battered on one knuckle;
At every step you missed
My right ear scraped a buckle.
 
You beat time on my head
With a palm caked hard by dirt,
Then waltzed me off to bed
Still clinging to your shirt.
 


6. The Road Not Taken
Robert Frost
 
Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;                      
Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that, the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,                        
 
And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.                          
I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.



7. 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.



8. Richard Cory
Edwin Arlington Robinson
 
Whenever Richard Cory went down town,
We people on the pavement looked at him:
He was a gentleman from sole to crown,
Clean favored, and imperially slim.
 
And he was always quietly arrayed,
And he was always human when he talked;
But still he fluttered pulses when he said,
“Good-morning,” and he glittered when he walked.
 
And he was rich—yes, richer than a king—
And admirably schooled in every grace:
In fine, we thought that he was everything
To make us wish that we were in his place.
 
So on we worked, and waited for the light,
And went without the meat, and cursed the bread;
And Richard Cory, one calm summer night,
Went home and put a bullet through his head.



9. The Fountain
James Russell Lowell
 
Into the sunshine,
     Full of the light,
Leaping and flashing
     From morn till night!
 
Into the moonlight,
     Whiter than snow,
Waving so flower-like
     When the winds blow!
 
Into the starlight,
     Rushing in spray,
Happy at midnight,
     Happy by day!
 
Ever in motion,
     Blithesome and cheery.
Still climbing heavenward,
     Never aweary;—
 
Glad of all weathers,
     Still seeming best,
Upward and downward,
     Motion thy rest;—
 
Full of a nature
     Nothing can tame,
Changed every moment,
     Ever the same;—
 
Ceaseless aspiring,
     Ceaseless content,
Darkness or sunshine
     Thy element;—
 
Glorious fountain!
     Let my heart be
Fresh, changeful, constant,
     Upward, like thee!



10. I’m Nobody! Who Are You?
Emily Dickinson

I’m nobody! Who are you?
Are you nobody, too?
Then there’s a pair of us—don’t tell!
They’d banish us, you know.
 
How dreary to be somebody!
How public, like a frog
To tell your name the livelong June
To an admiring bog!
 
11. Embassy
W. H. Auden
 
As evening fell the day’s oppression lifted;
Far peaks came into focus; it had rained:
Across wide lawns and cultured flowers drifted
The conversation of the highly trained.
 
Two gardeners watched them pass and priced their shoes:
A chauffeur waited, reading in the drive,
For them to finish their exchange of views;
It seemed a picture of the private life.
 
Far off, no matter what good they intended,
The armies waited for a verbal error
With all the instruments for causing pain:
 
And on the issue of their charm depended
A land laid waste, with all its young men slain,
Its women weeping, and its towns in terror.



12. Loveliest of Trees
A. E. Housman
 
Loveliest of trees, the cherry now
Is hung with bloom along the bough,
And stands about the woodland ride
Wearing white for Eastertide.
 
Now, of my threescore years and ten,
Twenty will not come again,
And take from seventy springs a score,
It only leaves me fifty more.
 
And since to look at things in bloom
Fifty springs are little room,
About the woodlands I will go
To see the cherry hung with snow.



13. The African Lion
A. E. Housman

To meet a bad lad on the African waste
       Is a thing that a lion enjoys;
But he rightly and strongly objects to the taste
       Of good and uneatable boys.
 
When he bites off a piece of a boy of that sort
       He spits it right out of his mouth,
And retires with a loud and dissatisfied snort
       To the east, or the west, or the south.
 
So lads of good habits, on coming across
       A lion, need feel no alarm,
For they know they are sure to escape with the loss
       Of a leg, or a head, or an arm.
 

14. Ah, Are You Digging on My Grave?
Thomas Hardy
 
"Ah, are you digging on my grave,
       My loved one?—planting rue?"
—"No: yesterday he went to wed
One of the brightest wealth has bred.
'It cannot hurt her now,' he said,
      'That I should not be true.' "
 
"Then who is digging on my grave？
       My nearest dearest kin?"
—"Ah, no; they sit and think, 'What use!
What good will planting flowers produce?
No tendance of her mound can loose
       Her spirit from Death’s gin.' "
 
"But some one digs upon my grave?
       My enemy?—prodding sly?"
—"Nay: when she heard you had passed the Gate
That shuts on all flesh soon or late,
She thought you on more worth her hate,
       And cares not where you lie."
 
"Then, who is digging on my grave?
       Say—since I have not guessed!"
—"O it is I, my mistress dear,
Your little dog, who still lives near,
And much I hope my movements here
       Have not disturbed your rest?"
 
"Ah, yes! You dig upon my grave…
       Why flashed it not on me
That one true heart was left behind!
What feeling do we ever find
To equal among human kind
       A dog’s fidelity!"
 
"Mistress, I dug upon your grave
       To bury a bone, in case
I should be hungry near this spot
When passing on my daily trot.
I am sorry, but I quite forgot
       It was your resting place."



15. The Man He Killed
Thomas Hardy

       ‘Had he and I but met
       By some old ancient inn,
We should have sat us down to wet
       Right many a nipperkin!
 
    ‘But ranged as infantry,
    And staring face to face,
I shot at him as he at me,
And killed him in his place.
 
       ‘I shot him dead because—
       Because he was my foe,
Just so: my foe of course he was;
       That’s clear enough; although
 
       ‘He thought he’d ’list, perhaps,
       Off-hand-like—just—as I—
Was out of work—had sold his traps—
       No other reason why.
 
       ‘Yes; quaint and curious war is!
       You shoot a fellow down
You’d treat, if met where any bar is,
       Or help to half-a-crown.’
 

16. The Lake Isle of Innisfree
W. B. Yeats
 
I will arise and go now, and go to Innisfree,
And a small cabin build there, of clay and wattles made:
Nine bean-rows will I have there, a hive for the honeybee,
And live alone in the bee-loud glade.
 
And I shall have some peace there, for peace comes dropping slow
Dropping from the veils of the morning to where the cricket sings;
There midnight’s all a glimmer, and noon a purple glow,
And evening full of linnet’s wings.
 
I will arise and go now, for always night and day
I hear lake water lapping with low sounds by the shore;
While I stand on the roadway, or on the pavements grey,
I hear it in the deep heart’s core.



17. The Eagle: A Fragment
Alfred, Lord Tennyson
 
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.



18. Break, Break, Break
Alfred, Lord Tennyson
 
Break, break, break
On thy cold grey stones, O Sea!
And I would that my tongue could utter
The thoughts that arise in me.
 
O, well for the fisherman’s boy,  
That he shouts with his sister at play!
O, well for the sailor lad,
That he sings in his boat on the bay!
 
And the stately ships go on
To their haven under the hill; 
But O for the touch of a vanished hand,
And the sound of a voice that is still!
 
Break, break, break,
At the foot of thy crags, O Sea!
But the tender grace of a day that is dead 
Will never come back to me.



19. On First Looking into Chapman’s Homer
John Keats
 
Much have I travelled in the realms of gold,
And many goodly states and kingdoms seen;
Round many western islands have I been
Which bards in fealty to Apollo hold.
Oft of one wide expanse had I been told 
That deep-brow’d Homer ruled as his demesne;
Yet did I never breathe its pure serene
Till I heard Chapman speak out loud and bold.
Then felt I like some watcher of the skies
When a new planet swims into his ken;  
Or like stout Cortez when with eagle eyes
He star’d at the Pacific—and all his men
Look’d at each other with a wild surmise—
Silent, upon a peak in Darien.



20. On the Grasshopper and the Cricket
John Keats
 
The poetry of earth is never dead:
When all the birds are faint with the hot sun,
And hide in cooling trees, a voice will run
From hedge to hedge about the new-mown mead;
That is the Grasshopper’s—he takes the lead 
In summer luxury, he has never done
With his delights: for when tired out with fun
He rests at ease beneath some pleasant weed.
The poetry of earth is ceasing never:
On a lone winter evening, when the frost
Has wrought a silence, from the stove there shrills
The Cricket’s song, in warmth increasing ever,
And seems to one in drowsiness half lost,
The Grasshopper’s among some grassy hills.



21. Ozymandias
Percy Bysshe Shelley
 
I met a traveller from an antique land,
Who said: Two vast and trunkless legs of stone
Stand in the desert. Near them, on the sand,
Half sunk, a shattered visage lies, whose frown,
And wrinkled lip, and sneer of cold command,
Tell that its sculptor well those passions read
Which yet survive, stamped on these lifeless things,
The hand that mocked them, and the heart that fed;
And on the pedestal, these words appear:
“My name is Ozymandias, King of Kings,
Look on my works, ye Mighty, and despair!”
Nothing beside remains. Round the decay
Of that colossal wreck, boundless and bare
The lone and level sands stretch far away.



22. A Song: “Men of England”
Percy Bysshe Shelley
 
Men of England, wherefore plough
For the lords who lay ye low?
Wherefore weave with toil and care
The rich robes your tyrants wear?
 
Wherefore feed and clothe and save
From the cradle to the grave
Those ungrateful drones who would
Drain your sweat—nay, drink your blood?
 
Wherefore, Bees of England, forge
Many a weapon, chain, and scourge,
That these stingless drones may spoil
The forced produce of your toil?
 
Have ye leisure, comfort, calm,
Shelter, food, love’s gentle balm?
Or what is it ye buy so dear
With your pain and with your fear?
 
The seed ye sow, another reaps;
The wealth ye find, another keeps;
The robes ye weave, another wears;
The arms ye forge, another bears.
 
Sow seed—but let no tyrant reap;
Find wealth—let no impostor heap;
Weave robes—let not the idle wear;
Forge arms—in your defence to bear.
 
Shrink to your cellars, holes, and cells—
In halls ye deck another dwells.
Why shake the chains ye wrought? Ye see
The steel ye tempered glance on ye.
 
With plough and spade and hoe and loom
Trace your grave and build your tomb
And weave your winding-sheet—till fair
England be your Sepulchre.



23. She Dwelt among the Untrodden Ways
William Wordsworth
 
She dwelt among the untrodden ways
Beside the springs of Dove,
A Maid whom there were none to praise
And very few to love:
 
A violet by a mossy stone
Half hidden from the eye!
—Fair as a star, when only one
Is shining in the sky.
 
She lived unknown, and few could know
When Lucy ceased to be;
But she is in her grave, and, oh,
The difference to me!



24. The Solitary Reaper
William Wordsworth
 
Behold her, single in the field,
Yon solitary Highland Lass!
Reaping and singing by herself;
Stop here, or gently pass!
Alone she cuts and binds the grain,
And sings a melancholy strain;
O listen! for the Vale profound
Is overflowing with the sound.
 
No Nightingale did ever chaunt
More welcome notes to weary bands
Of travellers in some shady haunt,
Among Arabian sands:
A voice so thrilling ne’er was heard
In spring-time from the Cuckoo-bird,
Breaking the silence of the seas
Among the farthest Hebrides.
 
Will no one tell me what she sings?—
Perhaps the plaintive numbers flow
For old, unhappy, far-off things,
And battles long ago:
Or is it some more humble lay,
Familiar matter of to-day?
Some natural sorrow, loss, or pain,
That has been, and may be again?
 
Whate’er the theme, the Maiden sang
As if her song could have no ending;
I saw her singing at her work,
And o’er the sickle bending;—
I listened, motionless and still:
And, as I mounted up the hill,
The music in my heart I bore,
Long after it was heard no more.



25. I Wandered Lonely as a Cloud
William Wordsworth
 
I wandered lonely as a cloud
That floats on high o’er vales and hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd,
A host of golden daffodils;
Beside the lake, beneath the trees,
Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.
 
Continuous as the stars that shine
And twinkle on the milky way,
They stretched in never-ending line
Along the margin of a bay:
Ten thousand saw I at a glance,
Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.
 
The waves beside them danced; but they
Out-did the sparkling waves in glee:
A poet could not but be gay,
In such a jocund company:
I gazed---and gazed---but little thought
What wealth the show to me had brought:
 
For oft, when on my couch I lie
In vacant or in pensive mood,
They flash upon that inward eye
Which is the bliss of solitude;
And then my heart with pleasure fills,
And dances with the daffodils.



26. A Red, Red Rose
Robert Burns
 
O My luve’s like a red, red rose,
That’s newly sprung in June;
O My Luve’s like the melodie
That’s sweetly played in tune.
 
As fair art thou, my bonnie lass,
So deep in luve am I;
And I will luve thee still, my dear,
Till a’ the seas gang dry.
 
Till a’ the seas gang dry, my dear,
And the rocks melt wi’ the sun:
O I will luve thee still, my dear,
While the sands o’ life shall run.
 
And fare thee weel, my only luve,
And fare thee weel a while!
And I will come again, my luve,
Though it were ten thousand mile.



27. The Chimney Sweeper (from Songs of Innocence) 
William Blake
 
When my mother died I was very young,
And my father sold me while yet my tongue
Could scarcely cry “’weep! ’weep! ’weep! ’weep!”
So your chimneys I sweep & in soot I sleep.
 
There’s little Tom Dacre, who cried when his head
That curl’d like a lamb’s back, was shav’d, so I said,
“Hush, Tom! never mind it, for when your head’s bare,
You know that the soot cannot spoil your white hair.”
 
And so he was quiet, & that very night,
As Tom was a-sleeping he had such a sight!
That thousands of sweepers, Dick, Joe, Ned, & Jack,
Were all of them lock’d up in coffins of black.
 
And by came an Angel who had a bright key,
And he open’d the coffins & set them all free;
Then down a green plain, leaping, laughing they run,
And wash in a river and shine in the Sun.
 
Then naked & white, all their bags left behind,
They rise upon clouds, and sport in the wind.
And the Angel told Tom, if he’d be a good boy,
He’d have God for his father & never want joy.
 
And so Tom awoke; and we rose in the dark
And got with our bags & our brushes to work.
Tho’ the morning was cold, Tom was happy & warm;
So if all do their duty, they need not fear harm.



28. Spring
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 ay 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!



29. Songs: Spring & Winter (from Love’s Labour’s Lost)
William Shakespeare
 
Spring
When daisies pied and violets blue
And lady-smocks all silver-white
And cuckoo-buds of yellow hue
Do paint the meadows with delight,
The cuckoo then, on every tree,
Mocks married men; for thus sings he,
                       “Cuckoo;
Cuckoo, cuckoo”: Oh word of fear,
Unpleasing to a married ear!
 
When shepherds pipe on oaten straws,
And merry larks are ploughmen’s clocks,
When turtles tread, and rooks and daws,
And maidens bleach their summer smocks,
The cuckoo then, on every tree,
Mocks married men; for thus sings he,
                       “Cuckoo;
Cuckoo, cuckoo”: Oh word of fear,
Unpleasing to a married ear!
 
 
Winter
When icicles hang by the wall
And Dick the shepherd blows his nail,
And Tom bears logs into the hall,
And milk comes frozen home in pail,
When blood is nipped, and ways be foul,
Then nightly sings the staring owl,
                         “Tu-who;
Tu-whit, Tu-who”: A merry note,
While greasy Joan doth keel the pot.
 
When all aloud the wind doth blow,
And coughing drowns the parson’s saw,
And birds sit brooding in the snow,
And Marian’s nose looks red and raw,
When roasted crabs hiss in the bowl,
Then nightly sings the staring owl,
                         “Tu-who;
Tu-whit, Tu-who”: A merry note,
While greasy Joan doth keel the pot.



30. Sonnet 18
William Shakespeare
 
Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day?
Thou art more lovely and more temperate.
Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,
And summer’s lease hath all too short a date.
Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines,
And often is his gold complexion dimmed.
And every fair from fair sometime declines,
By chance or nature’s changing course untrimmed.
But thy eternal summer shall not fade,
Nor lose possession of that fair thou ow’st,
Nor shall Death brag thou wander’st in his shade
When in eternal lines to time thou grow’st.
So long as men can breathe, or eyes can see,
So long lives this and this gives life to thee.