“A smile for Hope, a tear for Pain,
A breath to swell4 the voice of Prayer,”
and may you have a pleasant journey, for it is time that the stoker should be looking to his going gear!
So now we rise slowly in the moonlight from St. Ambrose’s quadrangle, and, when we are clear of the clock-tower,[254] steer6 away southwards, over Oxford7 city and all its sleeping wisdom and folly8, over street and past spire9, over Christ Church and the canons’ houses, and the fountain in Tom quad5; over St. Aldate’s and the river, along which the moonbeams lie in a pathway of twinkling silver, over the railway sheds—no, there was then no railway, but only the quiet fields and foot-paths of Hincksey hamlet. Well, no matter; at any rate, the hills beyond, and Bagley Wood, were there then as now: and over hills and wood we rise, catching10 the purr of the night-jar, the trill of the nightingale, and the first crow of the earliest cock-pheasant, as he stretches his jewelled wings, conscious of his strength and his beauty, heedless of the fellows of St. John’s, who slumber11 within sight of his perch12, on whose hospitable13 board he shall one day lie, prone14 on his back, with fair larded breast turned upwards15 for the carving16 knife, having crowed his last crow. He knows it not; what matters it to him? If he knew it, could a Bagley Wood cock-pheasant desire a better ending?
We pass over the vale beyond; hall and hamlet, church, and meadow, and copse, folded in mist and shadow below us, each hamlet holding in its bosom17 the materials of three-volumed novels by the dozen, if we could only pull off the roofs of the houses and look steadily18 into the interiors; but our destination is farther yet. The faint white streak19 behind the distant Chilterns reminds us that we have no time for gossip by the way;[255] May nights are short, and the sun will be up by four. No matter; our journey will now be soon over, for the broad vale is crossed, and the chalk hills and downs beyond. Larks21 quiver up by us, “higher, ever higher,” hastening up to get a first glimpse of the coming monarch22, careless of food, flooding the fresh air with song. Steady plodding24 rooks labor25 along below us, and lively starlings rush by on the look-out for the early worm; lark20 and swallow, rook and starling, each on his appointed round. The sun arises, and they get them to it; he is up now, and these breezy uplands over which we hang are swimming in the light of horizontal rays, though the shadows and mists still lie on the wooded dells which slope away southwards.
This is no chalk, this high knoll26 which rises above—one may almost say hangs over—the village, crowned with Scotch27 firs, its sides tufted with gorse and heather. It is the Hawk’s Lynch, the favorite resort of Englebourn folk, who come up for the view, for the air, because their fathers and mothers came up before them, because they came up themselves as children—from an instinct which moves them all in leisure hours and Sunday evenings, when the sun shines and the birds sing, whether they care for view or air or not. Something guides all their feet hitherward; the children, to play hide-and-seek and look for nests in the gorse-bushes; young men and maidens28, to saunter and look and talk, as they will till the world’s end—or as long,[256] at any rate, as the Hawk’s Lynch and Englebourn last—and to cut their initials, inclosed in a true lover’s knot, on the short rabbit’s turf; steady married couples, to plod23 along together consulting on hard times and growing families; even old tottering29 men, who love to sit at the feet of the firs, with chins leaning on their sticks, prattling30 of days long past, to any one who will listen, or looking silently with dim eyes into the summer air, feeling perhaps in their spirits after a wider and more peaceful view which will soon open for them. A common knoll, open to all, up in the silent air, well away from every-day Englebourn life, with the Hampshire range and the distant Beacon31 Hill lying soft on the horizon, and nothing higher between you and the southern sea, what a blessing32 the Hawk’s Lynch is to the village folk, one and all! May Heaven and a thankless soil long preserve it and them from an inclosure under the Act!
点击收听单词发音
1 humble | |
adj.谦卑的,恭顺的;地位低下的;v.降低,贬低 | |
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2 gilded | |
a.镀金的,富有的 | |
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3 fustian | |
n.浮夸的;厚粗棉布 | |
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4 swell | |
vi.膨胀,肿胀;增长,增强 | |
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5 quad | |
n.四方院;四胞胎之一;v.在…填补空铅 | |
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6 steer | |
vt.驾驶,为…操舵;引导;vi.驾驶 | |
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7 Oxford | |
n.牛津(英国城市) | |
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8 folly | |
n.愚笨,愚蠢,蠢事,蠢行,傻话 | |
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9 spire | |
n.(教堂)尖顶,尖塔,高点 | |
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10 catching | |
adj.易传染的,有魅力的,迷人的,接住 | |
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11 slumber | |
n.睡眠,沉睡状态 | |
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12 perch | |
n.栖木,高位,杆;v.栖息,就位,位于 | |
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13 hospitable | |
adj.好客的;宽容的;有利的,适宜的 | |
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14 prone | |
adj.(to)易于…的,很可能…的;俯卧的 | |
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15 upwards | |
adv.向上,在更高处...以上 | |
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16 carving | |
n.雕刻品,雕花 | |
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17 bosom | |
n.胸,胸部;胸怀;内心;adj.亲密的 | |
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18 steadily | |
adv.稳定地;不变地;持续地 | |
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19 streak | |
n.条理,斑纹,倾向,少许,痕迹;v.加条纹,变成条纹,奔驰,快速移动 | |
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20 lark | |
n.云雀,百灵鸟;n.嬉戏,玩笑;vi.嬉戏 | |
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21 larks | |
n.百灵科鸟(尤指云雀)( lark的名词复数 );一大早就起床;鸡鸣即起;(因太费力而不想干时说)算了v.百灵科鸟(尤指云雀)( lark的第三人称单数 );一大早就起床;鸡鸣即起;(因太费力而不想干时说)算了 | |
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22 monarch | |
n.帝王,君主,最高统治者 | |
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23 plod | |
v.沉重缓慢地走,孜孜地工作 | |
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24 plodding | |
a.proceeding in a slow or dull way | |
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25 labor | |
n.劳动,努力,工作,劳工;分娩;vi.劳动,努力,苦干;vt.详细分析;麻烦 | |
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26 knoll | |
n.小山,小丘 | |
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27 scotch | |
n.伤口,刻痕;苏格兰威士忌酒;v.粉碎,消灭,阻止;adj.苏格兰(人)的 | |
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28 maidens | |
处女( maiden的名词复数 ); 少女; 未婚女子; (板球运动)未得分的一轮投球 | |
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29 tottering | |
adj.蹒跚的,动摇的v.走得或动得不稳( totter的现在分词 );踉跄;蹒跚;摇摇欲坠 | |
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30 prattling | |
v.(小孩般)天真无邪地说话( prattle的现在分词 );发出连续而无意义的声音;闲扯;东拉西扯 | |
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31 beacon | |
n.烽火,(警告用的)闪火灯,灯塔 | |
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32 blessing | |
n.祈神赐福;祷告;祝福,祝愿 | |
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