As it becomes older it broadens and becomes stronger. It begins to make a larger path of its own in the world, which it follows with varying fortunes, until its waters have gone beyond it.{256}
The Winding5 River begins miles away and steals down through the back country. It curves and runs through devious6 channels and makes wide detours7, before it finally flows out through the sand hills into the great lake.
Along its tranquil8 course there are many things to be studied and learned, and many new thoughts and sensations to grow out of them. We must go down the river, and not against its current, to know its strange spirit, and to love it. There is always a feeling of closer companionship when we are traveling in the same direction.
It is best to go alone, in a small boat, carrying a few feet of rope attached to a heavy stone, so that the boat may be anchored in any desirable spot. You should sit facing the bow, and guide the boat with a paddle, or a pair of oars10 in front of you, and let the current carry you along.
The journey commences several miles up in the woods, where the banks are only a few feet apart. The boat is piloted cautiously through the deep forest, among the ancient logs that clog11 the current. The patriarchs have fallen in bygone years, and are slowly moldering away into the limpid12{257} waters that once reflected them in their stately Indian summer robes of red and gold.
Masses of water-soaked brush must be encountered, and sunken snags avoided. Fringes of small turtles, on decayed and broken branches, protruding13 from the water, and on the recumbent trunks, splash noisily into the depths below—a wood duck glides15 away downstream—a muskrat16, that has been investigating a deep pool near the bank, beats a hasty retreat, and a few scolding chipmunks17 flip18 their tails saucily19, and whisk out of sight. A gray squirrel barks defiantly20 from the branch of an over-hanging tree, and an excited kingfisher circles around, loudly protesting against the invasion of his hunting grounds.
All of the wild things resent intrusion into their solitudes21, and disappear, when there is any movement. If we would know them and learn their ways, we must sit silently and wait for them to come around us. We may go into the woods and sit upon a log or stump22, without seeing the slightest sign of life, and apparently23 none exists in the vicinity, but many pairs of sharp eyes have observed our coming long before we could see them.{258}
After a period of silence the small life will again become active, and in the course of an afternoon, if we are cautious as well as observant, we will find that we have seen and heard a great deal that is of absorbing interest.
Larger openings begin to appear among the trees, the sunlit spaces become broader, and patches of distant sky come into the picture. There are fewer obstructions25 in the course, and the little boat floats out into comparatively open country. Tall graceful26 elms, with the delicate lacery of their green-clad branches etched against the clouds, a few groups of silvery poplars, some straggling sycamores, and bunches of gnarled stubby willows27 line the margins29 of the stream, and detached masses of them appear out on the boggy30 land.
The Winding River flows through a happy valley. From a bank among the trees a silver glint is seen upon water, near a clump31 of willows, not so very far away, but the sinuous32 stream will loiter for hours before it comes to them.
A few cattle, several horses, and a solitary33 crow give a life note to the landscape. A faint wreath{259} of smoke is visible above some trees on the right, there are echoes from a hidden barnyard, and a fussy34 bunch of tame ducks are splashing around the end of a half-sunken flat-bottomed boat attached to a stake.
A freckled35 faced boy, of about ten, with faded blue overalls36, frayed37 below the knees, and sustained by one suspender, is watching a crooked38 fishpole and a silent cork39, near the roots of a big sycamore that shades a pool.
He wears a rudimentary shirt, and his red hair projects, like little streaks40 of flame, through his torn hat. His bare feet and legs are very dirty. He looks out from under the uncertain rim41 of the hat with a comical expression when asked what luck he is having, and holds up a willow28 switch, on which are suspended a couple of diminutive42 bullheads, and a small but richly colored sunfish. The spoil is not abundant, yet the freckled boy is happy.
After the boat has passed on nearly a quarter of a mile, his distant yell of triumph is heard. “I’ve got another one!” P?ons of victory from conquered walls could tell no more.{260}
Farther on, the banks become a little higher, the stream is wider and faster. In the distance a dingy43 old water-mill creeps into the landscape. This means that a dam will soon be encountered. The boat will have to be pulled out and put back into the river below it. For this it will be necessary to arouse the cooperative interest of the miller44 in some way, for the boat is not built of feathers.
A crude mill-race has been dug parallel to the river’s course, and the clumsy old-fashioned wheel is slowly and noisily churning away under the side of the mill. The structure was once painted a dull red, but time has blended it into a warm neutral gray. Some comparatively recent repairs on the sides and roof give it a mottled appearance, and add picturesque45 quality. A few small houses are scattered46 along the road leading to the mill, and the general store is visible among the trees farther back, for the little boat has now come to the sleepy village in the back country. There are no railroad trains or trolley-cars to desecrate47 its repose48, for these are far away. Several slowly moving figures appear on the road. There is an event of some kind down near the mill, and the{261} well-worn chairs on the platform in front of the Store have been deserted49. Whatever is going on must be carefully inspected and considered at once.
There is an interesting foreground between the boat and the mill, the reflections to be seen from the opposite bank seem tempting50, and an absorbing half hour is spent under the tree, with the sketch51 book and soft pencil.
The curious group on the other side is evidently indulging in all sorts of theories and speculations52 as to “wot that feller over there is tryin’ to do.” It is a foregone conclusion that curiosity will eventually triumph, and soon the strain becomes too intense for further endurance. The old miller, with the dust of his trade copiously53 sifted54 into his clothes and whiskers, gets into the flat-bottomed boat near the dam and slowly poles it across. All of the details of the voyage are attentively55 scrutinized56 from the other side.
After a friendly “good morning,” a few remarks about the stage of the water, and the weather prospects57, he stands around for a while, and then looks over at the sketch. He produces a pair of{262} brass-rimmed spectacles, which enables him to study it more carefully, and he is much pleased. He “haint never noticed the scene much from this side, but it looks pretty. After this is finished off you’d better come ’round on the other side, so’s to show the platform an’ the sign. A feller made a photograph of my mill once, an’ ’e promised to send me one, but ’e didn’t never do it.” The long remembered incident, and the broken faith, seemed to disturb him, and he appeared to be concerned as to the destiny of the sketch. He wanted it “to put up in the mill.”
His befloured whiskers and general appearance suggest more sketches58, and he is induced to pose for a few minutes. One of the drawings is presented to him, and the curiosity on the other bank is now getting to the breaking point. Only the absence of transportation facilities prevents the crossing of the anxious spectators. There have been several additions to the gaping59 group on the other side. A portly female, in a gingham dress, stands bareheaded in the road, contemplating60 the scene from afar, and a couple of barking dogs have come down to the edge of the water.{263}
The deliberate and dignified61 approach of the keeper of the general store lends a new note of interest.
After further pleasant conversation, the dusty miller helps to drag the boat around the dam. He waves a cheerful farewell, recrosses the stream, and immediately becomes the center of concentrated interest. The fat woman in the road waddles62 down to the mill, and a number of bareheaded children come running down the slope, who have peeked63 at the proceedings64 from secluded65 points of vantage.
As the boat floats on, the figures become indistinct, the houses fade into the soft distance, the mill, like those of the gods, grinds slowly on, and, with the next bend in the river, the sleepy village is gone.
The story of the eventful day percolates66 from the store off into the back country, and weeks later we hear it from a rheumatic old dweller67 in the marshy69 land, near the beginning of the sand hills. He unfortunately “wasn’t to town” at the time.
“A feller come ’long in a boat an’ stopped at the mill. He was ’round thar fer over an hour{264}
an’ drawed some pitchers72 of it. He made one o’ the old man with ’is pipe showin’. He was some city feller, an’ had to git the old man to help ’im with ’is boat ’round the dam. The old man’s got a pitcher71 ’e made of ’im stickin’ up in the mill now. A feller like him oughter larn some trade, instid o’ foolin’ away ’is time makin’ pitchers. Nobody ’ud ever buy one o’ them dam’ things in a thousand years. I’ll bet ’e was spyin’ fer the rail{265}road, an’ they’ll prob’ly be ’long here makin’ a survey before long.”
A little farther down is a loose-jointed bridge with some patent medicine signs on it. Another sign tells the users not to drive over the structure “faster than a walk.” Any kind of a speed limit in this slumbrous land seems preposterous73, but the cautionary board is there, peppered over with little holes, made by repeated charges of small shot, and partially74 defaced with sundry75 initials cut into it with jack-knives. Some crude and unknown humorist has changed some of the letters and syllables76 in the patent medicine signs, and made them even more eloquent77.
Another lone9 fisherman is on the bridge, watching a cork that bobs idly on the dimpled tide below. Another single suspender supports some deteriorated78 overalls. Possibly the freckled boy up the river was wearing the rest of the suspenders. He is an old man, with heavy gray eyebrows79, and long white whiskers that sway gently in the soft wind. His face has an air of patient resignation. He wears a faded colored shirt and a weather-beaten straw hat. His feet, encased in cowhide{266} boots, hang down over the edge of the rickety structure, and he sadly shakes his head when asked if he has caught any fish. His lure80 has been ineffectual and he is about ready to go home. There is still a faint lingering hope that the cork may be suddenly submerged, and the appearance of a new object of interest has decided81 him to remain a little while longer.
He explains that “the wind ain’t right fer fishin’. I’ve seen fish caught off’en this bridge so fast you couldn’t bait the hooks, but the wind has to be south. Besides the water’s all roily to-day an’ the fish can’t see nothin’. I bin24 drownin’ worms ’ere most all day, an’ I ain’t had a bite, an’ I’m goin’ to quit.”
Just after the boat had passed under the bridge, a dead minnow floated along on the current. A large pickerel broke water and seized it. His sweeping82 tail made a loud swish, and the water boiled with commotion83 as he turned and dove with his prize.
Instantly the dejected figure on the bridge became thrilled with a new life, and a torrent84 of profanity filled the air.{267}
“Now wot d’ye think o’ that! The gosh dangled85 idjut’s bin ’round ’ere all the time, an’ me settin’ ’ere with worms fer ’im. They’s a lot o’ fish in this ’ere river that I’ll teach sumpen to before I’m through with ’em. I’m a pretty old man, but you bet I’m goin’ to play the game while I’m ’ere. I wonder where ’e went with that dam’ minnie!”
The boat goes tranquilly86 on, and in the dim distance the old man is actively87 moving around on the bridge, flourishing his cane88 pole and casting the tempting bait all over the surface of the water, evidently hoping that the “gosh dangled idjut” will rise again.
The river now comes to the beginning of the vast marsh68, through which its well-defined channel follows a tortuous89 route among big wet stretches of high grasses and bulrushes, winds with innumerable turns, makes long sweeps and loops, and comes back, almost doubling itself in its serpentine90 course. The current slackens and the water becomes deeper.
The cries of the marsh birds are heard, and muskrats91 are swimming at the apexes92 of the long V-shaped wakes out on the open water. On small{268} boggy spots are piles of empty freshwater clam93 shells where these interesting little animals have feasted. As the crows seem to dominate the sand hills, the muskrats contribute much picturesque quality to the marsh. Their little houses add interest to the wet places, and traces of them appear all over the low land.
A wild duck hurries her downy young into the thick grasses—a few turtles tumble hastily from the bogs94 into the water—a large blue heron rises slowly out of an unseen retreat, and trails his long{269} legs after him in rhythmic95 flight down the marsh—mysterious wings are heard among the rushes—immense flocks of blackbirds fill the air—there is a splash out among the lily pads, where a hungry fish has captured his unsuspecting prey96, and the deep sonorous97 bass98 of a philosophic99 bullfrog resounds100 from concealed101 recesses102.
Another bend in the channel reveals a flock of wild ducks feeding quietly along the edges of the weeds. The intrusion is quickly detected and they swiftly take wing. A sinister103 head, with beady eyes, appears on the surface behind the boat, and is instantly withdrawn104. A big snapping-turtle has come up to investigate the cause of the dark shadow which has passed along the bottom.
Some open wet ground comes into view around the next curve, and some lazy cattle look up inquiringly. After their curiosity is satisfied, they turn their heads away and resume their reflections.
The Winding River has its solemn hours as well as those of gladness. Heavy masses of low gray clouds are creeping into the sky, the shadows are disappearing and a moody105 monotone has come over the landscape. Deep mutterings of thunder,{270} and a few vivid flashes, herald106 the approach of a storm.
Some thick willows, which can be reached through openings among the lily pads, a short distance from the main channel, offer a convenient shelter, and from it the coming drama can be contemplated107.
The big drops are soon heard among the leaves, the distant trees loom108 in ghostly stillness through veils of moving mist, the delicate color tones gently change into a lower scale, and the voices of the falling waters come. The reeds and rushes bend humbly109, and there are subdued110 cries from the feathered life that is hurrying to shelter among them. The rain patters and murmurs111 out among the thick grasses and on the open river.
There are noble beauties and sublimities in the storm, which those who only love the sunshine can never know. Truly “Our Lady of the Rain” weaves a marvelous spell, and her song is of surpassing beauty, as she trails her robes in majesty112 over the river and through the marshy wastes. Her pictures blend with her measures, for a song may have other mediums than sound, and there{271} are many symphonies that are silent. The prelude113 in the lowering clouds, and the melody of the loosened waters, bring to us a sense of unity114 and closer communion with the powers in the skies above us.
The sheets of flying waters have gone on up the marsh, a long rift115 has appeared in the clouds beyond the hills, a bright gleam has come through it, and the end of a rainbow touches a clump of poplars far away. The storm is over and the little boat is piloted out through the lily pads, to resume its journey on the tranquil stream. It finally reaches the sand hills. The river narrows and runs more rapidly as it leaves the swamp. Another sleepy little town, with two or three bridges, appears ahead. There are more still figures on the bank, watching corks116 on lines attached to long cane poles, which are stuck into the earth and supported by forked sticks. The labor117 of holding them has proved too great and natural forces have been utilized118 to avoid unnecessary exertion119. The anglers appear much depressed120 and are soaking wet. A nearby bridge would have provided a refuge from the recent rain, but pos{272}sibly their intellectual limitations did not permit of advantage being taken of it.
A friendly inquiry121 as to their success evokes122 sleepy responses, and looks of languid curiosity. “The fishin’ ain’t no good. I got one yisterd’y, but I guess the water’s too high fer ’em to bite.”
We have now come to the end of the Winding River. Its waters glide14 peacefully out and blend into the blue immensity of the great lake. Like a human life that has run its course through the vicissitudes123 and varied124 paths of the years, they have ceased to flow, and have been gathered into unknown depths beyond.
There are many winding rivers, but this one has numberless joyful125 and poetic126 associations. On its peaceful waters many sketch-books have been filled, and happy hours dreamed away. From the little boat wonderful vistas127 have unfolded, and marvelous skies have been contemplated.
The heavens at twilight128, flushed with glorious afterglows in orange, green and purple—the clear still firmament129 at mid-day, lightly flecked with little wisps of smoky vapor—the lazy white masses against the infinite blue, and the billowing thun{273}derheads on the horizon on quiet afternoons—the stormy array of dark battalions130 of wind-blown clouds, with their trailing sheets of rain—and many other convolutions of the great panoramas131 in the skies, have been humbly observed from the little boat. The Winding River has reflected them, and the picturesque sweeps and bends, the masses of trees on the banks, with the silvery stretches of slowly moving waters, have given wonderful foregrounds to these entrancing prospects.
Fancy has woven rare fabrics132, and builded strange and fragile dreams among these glowing and ever-changing symphonies of light and color. The little boat has been a kingdom in a world of enchantment133. The domes134 and vistas of a fairy-land have been visible from it. The Psalm135 of Life has seemed to float softly over the bosom136 of the river, and mingle137 with the harmonies of infinite hues138 in the heavens beyond. The lances of the departing sun have trailed over the waters, and dark purple shadows have gently crept into the landscape. Manifold voices are hushed, and the story of another day is told.{274}
Nature, seemingly jealous of other companionship, yields her spiritual treasures only to him who comes alone into her sweet solitudes. Before him who comes in reverence139, the filmy veils are lifted, and the poetic soul is gently led into mystic paths beyond.
In her great anthems140 of sublimity141 and power, she fills our hearts with awe70, and appals142 us with our insignificance143, but her soft lullabies, which we hear in the secluded places, are within the capacity of our emotions. It is here that she comes to us in her tenderness and beauty, and gently touches the finer chords of our being.
One may stand upon a mountain-top and behold144 the splendors145 of awful immensities, but the imagination is soon lost in infinity146, and only the atom on the rock remains147. The music of the swaying rushes, the whispers among rippling148 waters and softly moving leaves, and the voices of the Little Things that sing around us, all come within the compass of our spiritual realm. It is with them that we must abide149 if we would find contentment of heart and soul.
The love of moving water is one of our primal{275} instincts. The tired mind seeks it, and weary travelers on the deserts of life are sustained by the hope of living waters beyond. There are winding rivers on which we may float in the world of our fancy, and it is on them that we may find peace when sorrows have afflicted150 us and our burdens have made scars. They may flow through lordly forests, and stately mansions151 and magic gardens may be reflected in their limpid tides. The songs of these rivers are the songs of the heart, and in them there is no note of triumph over the fallen, or despair of the stricken. They are songs of courageous152 life and melodies of the living things, but only those who listen may hear them.
Sometimes, in faint half-heard tones from far away, we may imagine echoes from another world than ours, and, as we enter into the final gloom, these harmonies may become divine. In the darker recesses of our intellectual life we find shadows that never move. They seem to lie like black sinister bars across our mental paths. We know not what is beyond them, and we shrink from a nameless terror. Into these shadows our loved ones have gone. They have returned into the{276} Elemental Mystery. Their voices have not come back to us, but their cadences153 may be in the singing winds and amid the patter of the summer rain.
Our Ship of Dreams can bear a wondrous154 cargo155. We can sometimes see its mirage156 in the still skies beyond the winding rivers, though its sails and spars are far below the horizon’s rim. We know that on it are those who beckon157, and its wave-kissed prow158 is toward us. Frail159 though its timbers be, the years may bring it, but if it never comes, we have seen the picture, and new banners have been unfurled before it.
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1
swerves
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| n.（使）改变方向，改变目的( swerve的名词复数 )v.（使）改变方向，改变目的( swerve的第三人称单数 ) | |
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2
ripples
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| 逐渐扩散的感觉( ripple的名词复数 ) | |
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3
pebbly
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| 多卵石的，有卵石花纹的 | |
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4
meditates
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| 深思，沉思，冥想( meditate的第三人称单数 )； 内心策划，考虑 | |
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5
winding
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| n.绕，缠，绕组，线圈 | |
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devious
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| adj.不坦率的，狡猾的；迂回的，曲折的 | |
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7
detours
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| 绕行的路( detour的名词复数 )； 绕道，兜圈子 | |
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8
tranquil
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| adj. 安静的, 宁静的, 稳定的, 不变的 | |
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lone
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| adj.孤寂的，单独的；唯一的 | |
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10
oars
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| n.桨，橹( oar的名词复数 )；划手v.划（行）( oar的第三人称单数 ) | |
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11
clog
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| vt.塞满，阻塞；n.[常pl.]木屐 | |
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limpid
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| adj.清澈的，透明的 | |
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13
protruding
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| v.（使某物）伸出，（使某物）突出( protrude的现在分词 )；凸 | |
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glide
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| n./v.溜，滑行；(时间)消逝 | |
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15
glides
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| n.滑行( glide的名词复数 )；滑音；音渡；过渡音v.滑动( glide的第三人称单数 )；掠过；（鸟或飞机 ） 滑翔 | |
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16
muskrat
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| n.麝香鼠 | |
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chipmunks
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| n.金花鼠( chipmunk的名词复数 ) | |
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flip
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| vt.快速翻动；轻抛；轻拍；n.轻抛；adj.轻浮的 | |
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saucily
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| adv.傲慢地，莽撞地 | |
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defiantly
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| adv.挑战地，大胆对抗地 | |
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solitudes
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| n.独居( solitude的名词复数 )；孤独；荒僻的地方；人迹罕至的地方 | |
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stump
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| n.残株，烟蒂，讲演台；v.砍断，蹒跚而走 | |
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apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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bin
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| n.箱柜；vt.放入箱内；[计算机] DOS文件名:二进制目标文件 | |
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obstructions
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| n.障碍物( obstruction的名词复数 )；阻碍物；阻碍；阻挠 | |
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graceful
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| adj.优美的，优雅的；得体的 | |
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willows
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| n.柳树( willow的名词复数 )；柳木 | |
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willow
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| n.柳树 | |
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margins
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| 边( margin的名词复数 )； 利润； 页边空白； 差数 | |
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boggy
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| adj.沼泽多的 | |
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clump
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| n.树丛，草丛；vi.用沉重的脚步行走 | |
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sinuous
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| adj.蜿蜒的，迂回的 | |
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solitary
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| adj.孤独的，独立的，荒凉的；n.隐士 | |
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fussy
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| adj.为琐事担忧的，过分装饰的，爱挑剔的 | |
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freckled
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| adj.雀斑；斑点；晒斑；（使）生雀斑v.雀斑，斑点( freckle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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overalls
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| n.（复）工装裤；长罩衣 | |
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frayed
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| adj.磨损的v.（使布、绳等）磨损，磨破( fray的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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38
crooked
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| adj.弯曲的；不诚实的，狡猾的，不正当的 | |
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cork
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| n.软木，软木塞 | |
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40
streaks
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| n.（与周围有所不同的）条纹( streak的名词复数 )；（通常指不好的）特征（倾向）；（不断经历成功或失败的）一段时期v.快速移动( streak的第三人称单数 )；使布满条纹 | |
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41
rim
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| n.(圆物的)边，轮缘；边界 | |
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42
diminutive
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| adj.小巧可爱的，小的 | |
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43
dingy
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| adj.昏暗的，肮脏的 | |
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44
miller
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| n.磨坊主 | |
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45
picturesque
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| adj.美丽如画的，（语言）生动的，绘声绘色的 | |
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scattered
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| adj.分散的，稀疏的；散步的；疏疏落落的 | |
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47
desecrate
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| v.供俗用，亵渎，污辱 | |
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48
repose
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| v.(使)休息；n.安息 | |
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49
deserted
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| adj.荒芜的，荒废的，无人的，被遗弃的 | |
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50
tempting
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| a.诱人的, 吸引人的 | |
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51
sketch
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| n.草图；梗概；素描；v.素描；概述 | |
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52
speculations
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| n.投机买卖( speculation的名词复数 )；思考；投机活动；推断 | |
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53
copiously
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| adv.丰富地，充裕地 | |
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54
sifted
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| v.筛( sift的过去式和过去分词 )；筛滤；细查；详审 | |
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55
attentively
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| adv.聚精会神地；周到地；谛；凝神 | |
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56
scrutinized
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| v.仔细检查，详审( scrutinize的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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57
prospects
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| n.希望，前途(恒为复数) | |
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58
sketches
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| n.草图( sketch的名词复数 )；素描；速写；梗概 | |
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59
gaping
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| adj.口的；张口的；敞口的；多洞穴的v.目瞪口呆地凝视( gape的现在分词 )；张开，张大 | |
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60
contemplating
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| 深思，细想，仔细考虑( contemplate的现在分词 )； 注视，凝视； 考虑接受（发生某事的可能性）； 深思熟虑，沉思，苦思冥想 | |
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61
dignified
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| a.可敬的，高贵的 | |
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62
waddles
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| v.（像鸭子一样）摇摇摆摆地走( waddle的第三人称单数 ) | |
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63
peeked
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| v.很快地看( peek的过去式和过去分词 )；偷看；窥视；微露出 | |
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64
proceedings
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| n.进程，过程，议程；诉讼(程序)；公报 | |
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65
secluded
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| adj.与世隔绝的；隐退的；偏僻的v.使隔开，使隐退( seclude的过去式和过去分词) | |
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66
percolates
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| v.滤( percolate的第三人称单数 )；渗透；（思想等）渗透；渗入 | |
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67
dweller
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| n.居住者，住客 | |
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68
marsh
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| n.沼泽，湿地 | |
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69
marshy
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| adj.沼泽的 | |
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70
awe
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| n.敬畏，惊惧；vt.使敬畏，使惊惧 | |
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71
pitcher
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| n.(有嘴和柄的)大水罐；(棒球)投手 | |
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72
pitchers
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| 大水罐( pitcher的名词复数 ) | |
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73
preposterous
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| adj.荒谬的，可笑的 | |
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74
partially
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| adv.部分地，从某些方面讲 | |
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75
sundry
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| adj.各式各样的，种种的 | |
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76
syllables
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| n.音节( syllable的名词复数 ) | |
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77
eloquent
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| adj.雄辩的，口才流利的；明白显示出的 | |
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78
deteriorated
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| 恶化，变坏( deteriorate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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79
eyebrows
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| 眉毛( eyebrow的名词复数 ) | |
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80
lure
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| n.吸引人的东西，诱惑物；vt.引诱，吸引 | |
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81
decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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82
sweeping
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| adj.范围广大的，一扫无遗的 | |
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83
commotion
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| n.骚动，动乱 | |
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84
torrent
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| n.激流，洪流；爆发，(话语等的)连发 | |
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85
dangled
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| 悬吊着( dangle的过去式和过去分词 )； 摆动不定； 用某事物诱惑…； 吊胃口 | |
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86
tranquilly
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| adv. 宁静地 | |
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87
actively
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| adv.积极地，勤奋地 | |
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88
cane
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| n.手杖，细长的茎，藤条；v.以杖击，以藤编制的 | |
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89
tortuous
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| adj.弯弯曲曲的，蜿蜒的 | |
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90
serpentine
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| adj.蜿蜒的，弯曲的 | |
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91
muskrats
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| n.麝鼠（产于北美，毛皮珍贵）( muskrat的名词复数 ) | |
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92
apexes
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| n.顶( apex的名词复数 )；顶峰；脉尖；尖端 | |
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93
clam
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| n.蛤，蛤肉 | |
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94
bogs
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| n.沼泽，泥塘( bog的名词复数 )；厕所v.（使）陷入泥沼， （使）陷入困境( bog的第三人称单数 )；妨碍，阻碍 | |
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95
rhythmic
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| adj.有节奏的，有韵律的 | |
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96
prey
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| n.被掠食者，牺牲者，掠食；v.捕食，掠夺，折磨 | |
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97
sonorous
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| adj.响亮的，回响的；adv.圆润低沉地；感人地；n.感人，堂皇 | |
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98
bass
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| n.男低音(歌手)；低音乐器；低音大提琴 | |
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99
philosophic
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| adj.哲学的，贤明的 | |
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100
resounds
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| v.（指声音等）回荡于某处( resound的第三人称单数 )；产生回响；（指某处）回荡着声音 | |
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101
concealed
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| a.隐藏的，隐蔽的 | |
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102
recesses
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| n.壁凹( recess的名词复数 )；（工作或业务活动的）中止或暂停期间；学校的课间休息；某物内部的凹形空间v.把某物放在墙壁的凹处( recess的第三人称单数 )；将（墙）做成凹形，在（墙）上做壁龛；休息，休会，休庭 | |
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103
sinister
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| adj.不吉利的，凶恶的，左边的 | |
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104
withdrawn
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| vt.收回；使退出；vi.撤退，退出 | |
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105
moody
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| adj.心情不稳的，易怒的，喜怒无常的 | |
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106
herald
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| vt.预示...的来临，预告，宣布，欢迎 | |
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107
contemplated
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| adj. 预期的 动词contemplate的过去分词形式 | |
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108
loom
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| n.织布机，织机；v.隐现，(危险、忧虑等)迫近 | |
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109
humbly
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| adv. 恭顺地，谦卑地 | |
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110
subdued
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| adj. 屈服的，柔和的，减弱的 动词subdue的过去式和过去分词 | |
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111
murmurs
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| n.低沉、连续而不清的声音( murmur的名词复数 )；低语声；怨言；嘀咕 | |
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112
majesty
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| n.雄伟，壮丽，庄严，威严；最高权威，王权 | |
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113
prelude
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| n.序言，前兆，序曲 | |
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114
unity
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| n.团结，联合，统一；和睦，协调 | |
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115
rift
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| n.裂口，隙缝，切口；v.裂开，割开，渗入 | |
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116
corks
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| n.脐梅衣；软木( cork的名词复数 )；软木塞 | |
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117
labor
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| 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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118
utilized
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| v.利用，使用( utilize的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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119
exertion
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| n.尽力，努力 | |
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120
depressed
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| adj.沮丧的，抑郁的，不景气的，萧条的 | |
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121
inquiry
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| n.打听，询问，调查，查问 | |
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122
evokes
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| 产生，引起，唤起( evoke的第三人称单数 ) | |
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123
vicissitudes
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| n.变迁，世事变化；变迁兴衰( vicissitude的名词复数 )；盛衰兴废 | |
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124
varied
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| adj.多样的，多变化的 | |
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125
joyful
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| adj.欢乐的，令人欢欣的 | |
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126
poetic
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| adj.富有诗意的，有诗人气质的，善于抒情的 | |
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127
vistas
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| 长条形景色( vista的名词复数 )； 回顾； 展望； （未来可能发生的）一系列情景 | |
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128
twilight
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| n.暮光，黄昏；暮年，晚期，衰落时期 | |
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129
firmament
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| n.苍穹；最高层 | |
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130
battalions
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| n.（陆军的）一营（大约有一千兵士）( battalion的名词复数 )；协同作战的部队；军队；（组织在一起工作的）队伍 | |
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131
panoramas
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| 全景画( panorama的名词复数 )； 全景照片； 一连串景象或事 | |
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132
fabrics
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| 织物( fabric的名词复数 )； 布； 构造； （建筑物的）结构（如墙、地面、屋顶）：质地 | |
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133
enchantment
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| n.迷惑，妖术，魅力 | |
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134
domes
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| n.圆屋顶( dome的名词复数 )；像圆屋顶一样的东西；圆顶体育场 | |
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135
psalm
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| n.赞美诗，圣诗 | |
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136
bosom
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| n.胸，胸部；胸怀；内心；adj.亲密的 | |
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137
mingle
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| vt.使混合，使相混；vi.混合起来；相交往 | |
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138
hues
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| 色彩( hue的名词复数 )； 色调； 信仰； 观点 | |
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139
reverence
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| n.敬畏，尊敬，尊严；Reverence:对某些基督教神职人员的尊称；v.尊敬，敬畏，崇敬 | |
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140
anthems
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| n.赞美诗( anthem的名词复数 )；圣歌；赞歌；颂歌 | |
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141
sublimity
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| 崇高，庄严，气质高尚 | |
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142
appals
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| v.使惊骇，使充满恐惧( appal的第三人称单数 ) | |
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143
insignificance
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| n.不重要；无价值；无意义 | |
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144
behold
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| v.看，注视，看到 | |
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145
splendors
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| n.华丽( splendor的名词复数 )；壮丽；光辉；显赫 | |
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146
infinity
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| n.无限，无穷，大量 | |
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147
remains
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| n.剩余物，残留物；遗体，遗迹 | |
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148
rippling
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| 起涟漪的，潺潺流水般声音的 | |
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149
abide
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| vi.遵守；坚持；vt.忍受 | |
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150
afflicted
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| 使受痛苦，折磨( afflict的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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151
mansions
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| n.宅第，公馆，大厦( mansion的名词复数 ) | |
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152
courageous
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| adj.勇敢的，有胆量的 | |
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153
cadences
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| n.（声音的）抑扬顿挫( cadence的名词复数 )；节奏；韵律；调子 | |
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154
wondrous
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| adj.令人惊奇的，奇妙的；adv.惊人地；异乎寻常地；令人惊叹地 | |
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155
cargo
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| n.(一只船或一架飞机运载的)货物 | |
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156
mirage
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| n.海市蜃楼，幻景 | |
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157
beckon
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| v.(以点头或打手势)向...示意，召唤 | |
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158
prow
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| n.(飞机)机头，船头 | |
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159
frail
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| adj.身体虚弱的；易损坏的 | |
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