I believe that the impressions which succeeded were those of the summer time, of the great sun and nature. I recall feeling an almost delicious terror when one day I found myself alone in the midst of tall June grasses that grew high as my head. But here the secret working of self consciousness is almost too entangled3 with the things of the past for me to explain it.
We were visiting at a country place called Limoise, a place that at later time played a great part in my life. It belonged to neighbors and friends, the D——s, whose house in town was directly next to ours. Perhaps I had visited Limoise the preceding summer, but at that time I was very like a cocoon4 before it has crawled from its silken wrapping. The day that I now refer to is the one in which I was able to reflect for the first time, in which I first knew the sweetness of reverie.
I have forgotten our departure, the carriage ride and our arrival. But I remember distinctly that late one hot afternoon, as the sun was setting, I found myself alone in a remote part of a deserted5 garden. The gray walls overgrown with ivy6 and mosses7 separated its grove9 of trees from the moorland and the rocky country round about it. For me, brought up in the city, the old and solitary10 garden, where even the fruit trees were dying from old age, had all the mystery and charm of a primeval forest. I crossed a border of box, and I was in the midst of a large uncultivated tract11 filled with climbing asparagus and great weeds. Then I cowered12 down, as is the fashion of little children, that I might be more effectually hidden by what hid me sufficiently13 already, and I remained there motionless with eyes dilated14 and with quickening spirit, half afraid, half enraptured15. The feeling that I experienced in the presence of these unfamiliar16 things was one of reflection rather than of astonishment17. I knew that the bright green vegetation closing in about me was every where in no less measure than in the heart of this forest, and emotions, sad and weird18 and vague took possession of me and affrighted but fascinated me. That I might remain hidden as long as possible I crouched19 lower and still lower, and I felt the joy a little Indian boy feels when he is in his beloved forest.
Suddenly I heard someone call: “Pierre! Pierre! Dear Pierre!” I did not reply, but instead lay as close as possible to the ground, and sought to hide under the weeds and the waving branches of the asparagus.
Still I heard: “Pierre, Pierre.” It was Lucette; I knew her voice, and from the mockery of her tone I felt sure that she had spied me. But I could not see her although I looked about me very carefully: no one was visible!
With peals20 of laughter she continued to call, and her voice grew merrier and merrier. Where can she be? thought I.
Ah! At last I spied her perched upon the twisted branch of a tree that was overhung with gray moss8!
I was fairly caught and I came out of my green hiding place.
As I rose I gazed over the wild and flowering things, and saw the corner of the old moss-grown wall that enclosed the garden. That wall was destined21 to be at a later time a very familiar haunt of mine, for on the Thursday holidays during my college life I spent many a happy hour sitting upon it contemplating22 the peaceful and quiet country, and there I mused23, to the chirping24 accompaniment of the crickets, of those distant countries fairer and sunnier than my own. And upon that summer day those gray and crumbling25 stones, defaced by the sun and weather, and overgrown with mosses, gave me for the first time an indefinable impression of the persistence26 of things; a vague conception of existences antedating27 my own, in times long past.
Lucette D——, my elder by eight or ten years, seemed to me already a grown person. I cannot recall the time when I did not know her. Later I came to love her as a sister, and her early death in her prime was one of the first real griefs of my boyhood.
And the first recollection I have of her is as I saw her in the branches of the old pear tree. Her image doubtless begets28 a vividness from the two new emotions with which it is blended: the enchanting29 uneasiness I felt at the invasion of green nature and the melancholy30 reverie that took possession of me as I contemplated31 the old wall, type of ancient things and olden times.
点击收听单词发音
1 twilight | |
n.暮光,黄昏;暮年,晚期,衰落时期 | |
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2 tinged | |
v.(使)发丁丁声( ting的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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3 entangled | |
adj.卷入的;陷入的;被缠住的;缠在一起的v.使某人(某物/自己)缠绕,纠缠于(某物中),使某人(自己)陷入(困难或复杂的环境中)( entangle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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4 cocoon | |
n.茧 | |
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5 deserted | |
adj.荒芜的,荒废的,无人的,被遗弃的 | |
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6 ivy | |
n.常青藤,常春藤 | |
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7 mosses | |
n. 藓类, 苔藓植物 名词moss的复数形式 | |
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8 moss | |
n.苔,藓,地衣 | |
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9 grove | |
n.林子,小树林,园林 | |
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10 solitary | |
adj.孤独的,独立的,荒凉的;n.隐士 | |
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11 tract | |
n.传单,小册子,大片(土地或森林) | |
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12 cowered | |
v.畏缩,抖缩( cower的过去式 ) | |
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13 sufficiently | |
adv.足够地,充分地 | |
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14 dilated | |
adj.加宽的,扩大的v.(使某物)扩大,膨胀,张大( dilate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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15 enraptured | |
v.使狂喜( enrapture的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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16 unfamiliar | |
adj.陌生的,不熟悉的 | |
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17 astonishment | |
n.惊奇,惊异 | |
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18 weird | |
adj.古怪的,离奇的;怪诞的,神秘而可怕的 | |
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19 crouched | |
v.屈膝,蹲伏( crouch的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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20 peals | |
n.(声音大而持续或重复的)洪亮的响声( peal的名词复数 );隆隆声;洪亮的钟声;钟乐v.(使)(钟等)鸣响,(雷等)发出隆隆声( peal的第三人称单数 ) | |
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21 destined | |
adj.命中注定的;(for)以…为目的地的 | |
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22 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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23 mused | |
v.沉思,冥想( muse的过去式和过去分词 );沉思自语说(某事) | |
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24 chirping | |
鸟叫,虫鸣( chirp的现在分词 ) | |
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25 crumbling | |
adj.摇摇欲坠的 | |
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26 persistence | |
n.坚持,持续,存留 | |
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27 antedating | |
v.(在历史上)比…为早( antedate的现在分词 );先于;早于;(在信、支票等上)填写比实际日期早的日期 | |
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28 begets | |
v.为…之生父( beget的第三人称单数 );产生,引起 | |
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29 enchanting | |
a.讨人喜欢的 | |
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30 melancholy | |
n.忧郁,愁思;adj.令人感伤(沮丧)的,忧郁的 | |
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31 contemplated | |
adj. 预期的 动词contemplate的过去分词形式 | |
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