With the master so cruel and grim;
And the shaded nook in the running brook
Where the children went to swim?
Grass grows on the master's grave; Ben Bolt;
The spring of the brook is dry;
And of all the boys who were schoolmates then
There are only you and I。
There is change in the things I loved; Ben Bolt;
They have changed from the old to the new;
But I feel in the deeps of my spirit the truth;
There never was change in you。
Twelvemonths twenty have passed; Ben Bolt;
Since first we were friends … yet I hail
Your presence a blessing; your friendship a truth;
Ben Bolt of the salt…sea gale。
Thomas Dunn English '1819…1902'
〃BREAK; BREAK; BREAK〃
Break; break; break;
On thy cold gray 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。
Alfred Tennyson '1809…1892'
End
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