The Romantic English Literature Of 18th Century
By 曾佳
• The first generation representative of romantic literature
• When it comes to British romanticism, there is no deny that "The Lakers"poets (“湖畔派”诗人) are most important people,especially Wordsworth(华兹华斯), Coleridge (柯勒律治)and Robert Southey(骚 塞).They disliked the capitalist civilization(资本主义文明) and cash transactions(现金交易) between people ,but aspired to middle period of feudal society. They lived in the lake district of northwest England, from which thay got their name. Their poems reflected patriarchal rural life(宗法式的农村生活) and the natural scenery, or strange and mysterious stories (奇异神秘的故 事)and exotic scenery (异国风光 )
• Shelley was a famous British romantic poet, he was the first utopian ideal socialism poet(空想社会主义理想的诗 人), and he was called "genius of the prophet" by Engels . • His representive works: Queen mab《麦布女王》 • The revolt of Islam《伊斯兰的起义》 • Prometheus Unbound《解放了的普罗米修斯》 • Ode to the West Wind《西风颂》 • Ode to a Skylark《致云雀》。
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萨 缪 尔 柯 勒 律 治
罗 伯 特 骚 塞
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• Wordsworth(华兹华斯) (17701850) was the first main romantic English poet, who was also Europe's great poet. Because he liked to sing praises to natural beauty, for which he has been called as a "nature poet". Representative works: Preface to Lyrical 《抒 情歌谣集》 • Coleridge (柯勒律治）： BalladsRime of the Ancient Ma riner《古舟子咏》、 Kubla Khan《忽必烈汗》、 Chris TeBeiEr 《克里斯特贝尔》
the reaper(孤独的收割人)
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: no sweeter voice was ever heard in spring-time from the cuckoo-bird, breaking the silence of the seas among the farthest hebrides.
• George Byron (乔治· 拜伦)（1788－1824）and Shelley(雪莱) (1792-1822) brought British romantic literature to the peak.They wrote more fighting consciousness and political tendency in their work.
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ቤተ መጻሕፍቲ ባይዱII​
Thou on whose stream, mid the steep sky's commotion, Loose clouds like earth's decaying leaves are shed, Shook from the tangled boughs of Heaven and Ocean, Angels of rain and lightning: there are spread On the blue surface of thine aery surge, Like the bright hair uplifted from the head Of some fierce Maenad, even from the dim verge Of the horizon to the zenith's height, The locks of the approaching storm. Thou dirge Of the dying year, to which this closing night Will be the dome of a vast sepulchre, Vaulted with all thy congregated might Of vapours, from whose solid atmosphere Black rain, and fire, and hail will burst: oh hear!
没有人告诉我她唱的是什么， 或许是古老的不幸的哀歌 歌唱这遥远的事物， 歌唱这古代的战火； 或许是流传的民间歌谣 歌唱着今天的口碑传说？ 是一些难免的悲哀，死亡或者痛苦， 以前有过，将来也会遇着。 不问内容如何，那姑娘在唱歌， 她的歌声好像中唱不完， 我看一面唱一面工作， 完着要伏在镰刀上面； 我理这静静地倾听； 待我已经登上了丘陵， 歌声早已不再听闻， 幽韵却总缭绕着我的心。
IV​ If I were a dead leaf thou mightest bear; If I were a swift cloud to fly with thee; A wave to pant beneath thy power, and share The impulse of thy strength, only less free Than thou, O uncontrollable! If even I were as in my boyhood, and could be The comrade of thy wanderings over Heaven, As then, when to outstrip thy skiey speed Scarce seem'd a vision; I would ne'er have striven As thus with thee in prayer in my sore need. Oh, lift me as a wave, a leaf, a cloud! I fall upon the thorns of life! I bleed! A heavy weight of hours has chain'd and bow'd One too like thee: tameless, and swift, and proud.
will no one tell me what she sings? perhaps the plaintive numbers flow for old,unhappy,for-off things, and battles long ago: or is it some humble lay, familiar matter of today? 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 listen'd, motionless and still; and, as i mounted up the hill, the music in my heart i bore long after it was heard no more
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III​ • Thou who didst waken from his summer • dreams • The blue Mediterranean, where he lay, • Lull'd by the coil of his crystalline streams, • Beside a pumice isle in Baiae's bay, • And saw in sleep old palaces and towers • Quivering within the wave's intenser day, • All overgrown with azure moss and • flowers • So sweet, the sense faints picturing them! Thou • For whose path the Atlantic's level • powers • Cleave themselves into chasms, while • far below The sea-blooms and the oozy woods • which wear The sapless foliage of the ocean, know Thy voice, and suddenly grow gray with fear, And tremble and despoil themselves: oh hear!