Thanks to the human heart by which we live,

Thanks to its tenderness, its joys, and fears,

To me the meanest flower that blows can give

Thoughts that do often lie too deep for tears.

 

 

 

 

Thanks to its fears.

所以居然把上学期的浪漫主义诗歌翻出来读了，

 

Lines Written in Early Spring

                -W. Wordsworth

 

I heard a thousand blended notes,
While in a grove I sate reclined,
In that sweet mood when pleasant thoughts
Bring sad thoughts to the mind.

To her fair works did Nature link
The human soul that through me ran;
And much it grieved my heart to think
What man has made of man.

Through primrose tufts, in that green bower,
The periwinkle trailed its wreaths;
And 'tis my faith that every flower
Enjoys the air it breathes.

The birds around me hopped and played,
Their thoughts I cannot measure:--
But the least motion which they made
It seemed a thrill of pleasure.

The budding twigs spread out their fan,
To catch the breezy air;
And I must think, do all I can,
That there was pleasure there.

If this belief from heaven be sent,
If such be Nature's holy plan,
Have I not reason to lament
What man has made of man?

 

不过居然没找到我在找的那首诗

今天天气本来很好，简直不能相信这是Middlebury的十一月。或许是全球变暖？不过上个月很冷。

今天树上掉了很多叶子，黄黄的铺在地上一层层的，看起来很好看，但是一踩就碎，而且因为天气好，踩的人还很多，所以树叶就被踩得特别碎。

今天后来下雨了，把碎掉的树叶都弄湿了。雨下得太大，还下了很多场，没办法控制，碎掉的树叶都泡在水里面，凄凄惨惨的被淹没了。

今天还打雷了，紫色的雷弥漫大半个天空，一阵一阵的，虽然很好看，但是我还是躲在食堂外面的电视厅里好一阵不敢出来。

明天如果不下雨，依然会有风。我不怕下雨，我怕刮风。