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类别:文学名著 作者:约翰·弥尔顿 本章:1

    NOern Clime

    Advancing, so Pearle,

    , so customd, for his sleep

    as Aerie ligion bred,

    And temperat vapors bland, wh only sound [ 5 ]

    Of leaves and fuming rills, Auroras fan,

    Ligin Song

    Of Birds on every boughe more

    o find unwaknd Eve

    itresses discomposd, and glowing Cheek, [ 10 ]

    As t rest: he on his side

    Leaning h looks of cordial Love

    hung over her enamourd, and beheld

    Beautie, wher waking or asleep,

    S forth voice [ 15 ]

    Milde, as whes,

    touchus. Awake

    My fairest, my espousd, my latest found,

    best gift, my ever ne,

    Ahe fresh field [ 20 ]

    Calls us, o mark how spring

    Our tended Plants, ron Grove,

    drops t the balmie Reed,

    ure paints he Bee

    Sits on tracting liquid s. [ 25 ]

    Suc artld eye

    On Adam, whus she spake.

    O Sole in ws find all repose,

    My Glorie, my Perfection, glad I see

    turnd, for I t, [ 30 ]

    Suc till this I never passd, have dreamd,

    If dreamd, not as I oft am , of thee,

    orks of day passt, or morro designe,

    But of offense and trouble, which my mind

    Kneill t; met [ 35 ]

    Close at mine ear one calld me forto walk

    itle voice, I t it t said,

    t time,

    t, save where silence yields

    to t- now awake [ 40 ]

    tunes sest his love-labord song; now reignes

    Full Orbd t

    Ss off things; in vain,

    If none regard; h all his eyes,

    o be tures desire, [ 45 ]

    In

    Attracted by ty still to gaze.


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