Nothing could be more accurate, more true to the facts than Wordsworth’s observation of the external world. There was an underlying2 steadiness, a fundamental placidity3, a kind of patient, heroic obstinacy4 in his character, which blended with his delicate, almost tremulous sensibility, to
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make him rarely fitted for this work. He could look and listen long. When the magical moment of disclosure arrived, he was there and ready.
Some of his senses were not particularly acute. Odours seem not to have affected5 him. There are few phrases descriptive of the fragrance6 of nature in his poetry, and so far as I can remember none of them are vivid. He could never have written Tennyson’s line about
“The smell of violets hidden in the green.”
Nor was he especially sensitive to colour. Most of his descriptions in this region are vague and luminous7, rather than precise and brilliant. Colour-words are comparatively rare in his poems. Yellow, I think, was his favourite, if we may judge by the flowers that he mentioned most frequently. Yet more than any colour he loved clearness, transparency, the diaphanous8 current of a pure stream, the light of sunset
“that imbues9
Whate’er it strikes with gem-like hues10.”
But in two things his power of observation was unsurpassed, I think we may almost say, unrivalled:
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in sound, and in movement. For these he had what he describes in his sailor-brother,
“a watchful11 heart
Still couchant, an inevitable12 ear,
And an eye practiced like a blind man’s touch.”
In one of his juvenile13 poems, a sonnet14 describing the stillness of the world at twilight15, he says:
“Calm is all nature as a resting wheel;
The kine are couched upon the dewy grass,
The horse alone seen dimly as I pass,
Is cropping audibly his evening meal.”
At nightfall, while he is listening to the hooting16 of the owls17 and mocking them, there comes an interval18 of silence, and then
“a gentle shock of mild surprise
Has carried far into his heart the voice
Of mountain torrents20.”
At midnight, on the summit of Snowdon, from a rift21 in the cloud-ocean at his feet, he hears
“the roar of waters, torrents, streams
Innumerable, roaring with one voice.”
Under the shadows of the great yew-trees of Borrowdalek he loves
“To lie and listen to the mountain flood
Murmuring from Glaramara’s inmost caves.”
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What could be more perfect than the little lyric22 which begins
“Yes, it was the mountain echo
Solitary23, clear, profound,
Answering to the shouting cuckoo
Giving to her sound for sound.”
How poignant24 is the touch with which he describes the notes of the fiery-hearted Nightingale, singing in the dusk:
“they pierce and pierce;
Tumultuous harmony and fierce!”
But at sunrise other choristers make different melodies:
“The birds are singing in the distant woods;
Over his own sweet voice the Stock-dove broods;
The Jay makes answer as the Magpie25 chatters26;
And all the air is filled with pleasant noise of waters.”
Wandering into a lovely glen among the hills, he hears all the voices of nature blending together:
“The Stream, so ardent27 in its course before,
Sent forth28 such sallies of glad sound that all
Which I till then had heard, appeared the voice
Of common pleasure: beast and bird, the lamb,
The shepherd’s dog, the linnet and the thrush
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Vied with this waterfall, and made a song,
Which while I listened, seemed like the wild growth
Or like some natural produce of the air
That could not cease to be.”
Wordsworth, more than any other English poet, interprets and glorifies29 the mystery of sound. He is the poet who sits oftenest by the Ear-Gate listening to the whispers and murmurs30 of the invisible guests who throng31 that portal into “the city of Man-Soul.” Indeed the whole spiritual meaning of nature seems to come to him in the form of sound.
“Wonder not
If high the transport, great the joy I felt,
Communing in this sort through earth and heaven
With every form of creature, as it looked
Towards the Uncreated with a countenance32
Of adoration33, with an eye of love.
One song they sang, and it was audible,
Most audible, then, when the fleshly ear,
O’ercome by humblest prelude34 of that strain,
Forgot her functions and slept undisturbed.”
No less wonderful is his sense of the delicate motions of nature, the visible transition of form and outline. How exquisite35 is the description of a high-poising summer-cloud,
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“That heareth not the loud winds when they call;
And moveth all together, if it move at all.”
He sees the hazy36 ridges37 of the mountains like a golden ladder,
“Climbing suffused38 with sunny air
To stop—no record hath told where!”
He sees the gentle mists
“Curling with unconfirmed intent
On that green mountain’s side.”
He watches the swan swimming on Lake Lucarno,—
“Behold39!—as with a gushing40 impulse heaves
That downy prow41, and softly cleaves42
The mirror of the crystal flood,
Vanish inverted43 hill and shadowy wood.”
He catches sight of the fluttering green linnet among the hazel-trees:
“My dazzled sight he oft deceives,
A Brother of the dancing leaves.”
He looks on the meadows sleeping in the spring sunshine:
“The cattle are grazing,
Their heads never raising,
There are forty feeding like one!”
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He beholds44 the far-off torrent19 pouring down Ben Cruachan:
“Yon foaming45 flood seems motionless as ice;
Its dizzy turbulence46 eludes47 the eye,
Frozen by distance.”
Now in such an observation of Nature as this, so keen, so patient, so loving, so delicate, there is an immediate48 comfort for the troubled mind, a direct refuge and repose49 for the heart. To see and hear such things is peace and joy. It is a consolation50 and an education. Wordsworth himself has said this very distinctly.
“One impulse from a vernal wood
May teach you more of man
Of moral evil and of good
Than all the sages51 can.”
But the most perfect expression of his faith in the educating power of Nature is given in one of the little group of lyrics52 which are bound together by the name of Lucy,—love-songs so pure and simple that they seem almost mysterious in their ethereal passion.
“Three years she grew in sun and shower,
Then Nature said, ‘A lovelier flower
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On earth was never sown;
This Child I to myself will take;
She shall be mine, and I will make
A Lady of my own.
Myself will to my darling be
Both law and impulse; and with me
The Girl, in rock and plain,
In earth and heaven, in glade53 and bower54,
Shall feel an overseeing power
To kindle55 or restrain.
...
The stars of midnight shall be dear
To her; and she shall lean her ear
In many a secret place
Where rivulets56 dance their wayward round,
And beauty born of murmuring sound
Shall pass into her face.’”
The personification of Nature in this poem is at the farthest removed from the traditional poetic57 fiction which peopled the world with Dryads and Nymphs and Oreads. Nor has it any touch of the “pathetic fallacy” which imposes the thoughts and feelings of man upon natural objects. It presents unconsciously, very simply, and yet prophetically, Wordsworth’s vision of Nature,—a vision whose distinctive58 marks are vitality59 and unity60.
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It is his faith that “every flower enjoys the air it breathes.” It is also his faith that underlying and animating61 all this joy there is the life of one mighty62 Spirit. This faith rises to its most magnificent expression in the famous Lines composed a few miles above Tintern Abbey:
“And I have felt
A presence that disturbs me with the joy
Of elevated thought; a sense sublime63
Of something far more deeply interfused,
Whose dwelling64 is the light of setting suns,
And the round ocean and the living air,
And the blue sky, and in the mind of man:
A motion and a spirit, that impels65
All thinking things, all objects of all thought,
And rolls through all things.”
The union of this animating Spirit of Nature, with the beholding66, contemplating67, rejoicing spirit of man is like a pure and noble marriage, in which man attains68 peace and the spousal consummation of his being. This is the first remedy which Wordsworth finds for the malady69 of despair, the first and simplest burden of his prophecy of joy. And he utters it with confidence,
“Knowing that Nature never did betray
The heart that loved her; ’tis her privilege,
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Through all the years of this our life, to lead
From joy to joy: for she can so inform
The mind that is within us, so impress
With quietness and beauty, and so feed
With lofty thoughts, that neither evil tongues,
Rash judgments70, nor the sneers71 of selfish men,
Nor greetings where no kindness is, nor all
The dreary72 intercourse73 of daily life,
Shall e’er prevail against us, or disturb
Our cheerful faith that all which we behold
Is full of blessings74.”
点击收听单词发音
1 peculiar | |
adj.古怪的,异常的;特殊的,特有的 | |
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2 underlying | |
adj.在下面的,含蓄的,潜在的 | |
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3 placidity | |
n.平静,安静,温和 | |
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4 obstinacy | |
n.顽固;(病痛等)难治 | |
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5 affected | |
adj.不自然的,假装的 | |
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6 fragrance | |
n.芬芳,香味,香气 | |
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7 luminous | |
adj.发光的,发亮的;光明的;明白易懂的;有启发的 | |
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8 diaphanous | |
adj.(布)精致的,半透明的 | |
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9 imbues | |
v.使(某人/某事)充满或激起(感情等)( imbue的第三人称单数 );使充满;灌输;激发(强烈感情或品质等) | |
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10 hues | |
色彩( hue的名词复数 ); 色调; 信仰; 观点 | |
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11 watchful | |
adj.注意的,警惕的 | |
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12 inevitable | |
adj.不可避免的,必然发生的 | |
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13 juvenile | |
n.青少年,少年读物;adj.青少年的,幼稚的 | |
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14 sonnet | |
n.十四行诗 | |
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15 twilight | |
n.暮光,黄昏;暮年,晚期,衰落时期 | |
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16 hooting | |
(使)作汽笛声响,作汽车喇叭声( hoot的现在分词 ); 倒好儿; 倒彩 | |
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17 owls | |
n.猫头鹰( owl的名词复数 ) | |
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18 interval | |
n.间隔,间距;幕间休息,中场休息 | |
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19 torrent | |
n.激流,洪流;爆发,(话语等的)连发 | |
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20 torrents | |
n.倾注;奔流( torrent的名词复数 );急流;爆发;连续不断 | |
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21 rift | |
n.裂口,隙缝,切口;v.裂开,割开,渗入 | |
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22 lyric | |
n.抒情诗,歌词;adj.抒情的 | |
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23 solitary | |
adj.孤独的,独立的,荒凉的;n.隐士 | |
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24 poignant | |
adj.令人痛苦的,辛酸的,惨痛的 | |
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25 magpie | |
n.喜欢收藏物品的人,喜鹊,饶舌者 | |
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26 chatters | |
(人)喋喋不休( chatter的第三人称单数 ); 唠叨; (牙齿)打战; (机器)震颤 | |
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27 ardent | |
adj.热情的,热烈的,强烈的,烈性的 | |
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28 forth | |
adv.向前;向外,往外 | |
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29 glorifies | |
赞美( glorify的第三人称单数 ); 颂扬; 美化; 使光荣 | |
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30 murmurs | |
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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31 throng | |
n.人群,群众;v.拥挤,群集 | |
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32 countenance | |
n.脸色,面容;面部表情;vt.支持,赞同 | |
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33 adoration | |
n.爱慕,崇拜 | |
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34 prelude | |
n.序言,前兆,序曲 | |
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35 exquisite | |
adj.精美的;敏锐的;剧烈的,感觉强烈的 | |
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36 hazy | |
adj.有薄雾的,朦胧的;不肯定的,模糊的 | |
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37 ridges | |
n.脊( ridge的名词复数 );山脊;脊状突起;大气层的)高压脊 | |
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38 suffused | |
v.(指颜色、水气等)弥漫于,布满( suffuse的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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39 behold | |
v.看,注视,看到 | |
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40 gushing | |
adj.迸出的;涌出的;喷出的;过分热情的v.喷,涌( gush的现在分词 );滔滔不绝地说话 | |
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41 prow | |
n.(飞机)机头,船头 | |
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42 cleaves | |
v.劈开,剁开,割开( cleave的第三人称单数 ) | |
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43 inverted | |
adj.反向的,倒转的v.使倒置,使反转( invert的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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44 beholds | |
v.看,注视( behold的第三人称单数 );瞧;看呀;(叙述中用于引出某人意外的出现)哎哟 | |
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45 foaming | |
adj.布满泡沫的;发泡 | |
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46 turbulence | |
n.喧嚣,狂暴,骚乱,湍流 | |
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47 eludes | |
v.(尤指机敏地)避开( elude的第三人称单数 );逃避;躲避;使达不到 | |
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48 immediate | |
adj.立即的;直接的,最接近的;紧靠的 | |
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49 repose | |
v.(使)休息;n.安息 | |
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50 consolation | |
n.安慰,慰问 | |
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51 sages | |
n.圣人( sage的名词复数 );智者;哲人;鼠尾草(可用作调料) | |
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52 lyrics | |
n.歌词 | |
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53 glade | |
n.林间空地,一片表面有草的沼泽低地 | |
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54 bower | |
n.凉亭,树荫下凉快之处;闺房;v.荫蔽 | |
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55 kindle | |
v.点燃,着火 | |
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56 rivulets | |
n.小河,小溪( rivulet的名词复数 ) | |
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57 poetic | |
adj.富有诗意的,有诗人气质的,善于抒情的 | |
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58 distinctive | |
adj.特别的,有特色的,与众不同的 | |
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59 vitality | |
n.活力,生命力,效力 | |
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60 unity | |
n.团结,联合,统一;和睦,协调 | |
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61 animating | |
v.使有生气( animate的现在分词 );驱动;使栩栩如生地动作;赋予…以生命 | |
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62 mighty | |
adj.强有力的;巨大的 | |
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63 sublime | |
adj.崇高的,伟大的;极度的,不顾后果的 | |
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64 dwelling | |
n.住宅,住所,寓所 | |
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65 impels | |
v.推动、推进或敦促某人做某事( impel的第三人称单数 ) | |
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66 beholding | |
v.看,注视( behold的现在分词 );瞧;看呀;(叙述中用于引出某人意外的出现)哎哟 | |
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67 contemplating | |
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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68 attains | |
(通常经过努力)实现( attain的第三人称单数 ); 达到; 获得; 达到(某年龄、水平、状况) | |
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69 malady | |
n.病,疾病(通常做比喻) | |
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70 judgments | |
判断( judgment的名词复数 ); 鉴定; 评价; 审判 | |
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71 sneers | |
讥笑的表情(言语)( sneer的名词复数 ) | |
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72 dreary | |
adj.令人沮丧的,沉闷的,单调乏味的 | |
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73 intercourse | |
n.性交;交流,交往,交际 | |
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74 blessings | |
n.(上帝的)祝福( blessing的名词复数 );好事;福分;因祸得福 | |
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