Love breath’d his infant sighs, from anguish2 free.
Thomson
St. Aubert, sufficiently3 restored by a night’s repose4 to pursue his journey, set out in the morning, with his family and Valancourt, for Rousillon, which he hoped to reach before night-fall. The scenes, through which they now passed, were as wild and romantic, as any they had yet observed, with this difference, that beauty, every now and then, softened5 the landscape into smiles. Little woody recesses6 appeared among the mountains, covered with bright verdure and flowers; or a pastoral valley opened its grassy7 bosom8 in the shade of the cliffs, with flocks and herds9 loitering along the banks of a rivulet10, that refreshed it with perpetual green. St. Aubert could not repent11 the having taken this fatiguing12 road, though he was this day, also, frequently obliged to alight, to walk along the rugged13 precipice14, and to climb the steep and flinty mountain. The wonderful sublimity15 and variety of the prospects16 repaid him for all this, and the enthusiasm, with which they were viewed by his young companions, heightened his own, and awakened19 a remembrance of all the delightful20 emotions of his early days, when the sublime21 charms of nature were first unveiled to him. He found great pleasure in conversing22 with Valancourt, and in listening to his ingenuous23 remarks. The fire and simplicity24 of his manners seemed to render him a characteristic figure in the scenes around them; and St. Aubert discovered in his sentiments the justness and the dignity of an elevated mind, unbiassed by intercourse25 with the world. He perceived, that his opinions were formed, rather than imbibed26; were more the result of thought, than of learning. Of the world he seemed to know nothing; for he believed well of all mankind, and this opinion gave him the reflected image of his own heart.
St. Aubert, as he sometimes lingered to examine the wild plants in his path, often looked forward with pleasure to Emily and Valancourt, as they strolled on together; he, with a countenance27 of animated28 delight, pointing to her attention some grand feature of the scene; and she, listening and observing with a look of tender seriousness, that spoke29 the elevation30 of her mind. They appeared like two lovers who had never strayed beyond these their native mountains; whose situation had secluded31 them from the frivolities of common life, whose ideas were simple and grand, like the landscapes among which they moved, and who knew no other happiness, than in the union of pure and affectionate hearts. St. Aubert smiled, and sighed at the romantic picture of felicity his fancy drew; and sighed again to think, that nature and simplicity were so little known to the world, as that their pleasures were thought romantic.
‘The world,’ said he, pursuing this train of thought, ‘ridicules a passion which it seldom feels; its scenes, and its interests, distract the mind, deprave the taste, corrupt32 the heart, and love cannot exist in a heart that has lost the meek33 dignity of innocence34. Virtue35 and taste are nearly the same, for virtue is little more than active taste, and the most delicate affections of each combine in real love. How then are we to look for love in great cities, where selfishness, dissipation, and insincerity supply the place of tenderness, simplicity and truth?’
It was near noon, when the travellers, having arrived at a piece of steep and dangerous road, alighted to walk. The road wound up an ascent36, that was clothed with wood, and, instead of following the carriage, they entered the refreshing37 shade. A dewy coolness was diffused38 upon the air, which, with the bright verdure of turf, that grew under the trees, the mingled39 fragrance40 of flowers and of balm, thyme, and lavender, that enriched it, and the grandeur41 of the pines, beech42, and chestnuts43, that overshadowed them, rendered this a most delicious retreat. Sometimes, the thick foliage44 excluded all view of the country; at others, it admitted some partial catches of the distant scenery, which gave hints to the imagination to picture landscapes more interesting, more impressive, than any that had been presented to the eye. The wanderers often lingered to indulge in these reveries of fancy.
The pauses of silence, such as had formerly45 interrupted the conversations of Valancourt and Emily, were more frequent today than ever. Valancourt often dropped suddenly from the most animating46 vivacity47 into fits of deep musing48, and there was, sometimes, an unaffected melancholy49 in his smile, which Emily could not avoid understanding, for her heart was interested in the sentiment it spoke.
St. Aubert was refreshed by the shades, and they continued to saunter under them, following, as nearly as they could guess, the direction of the road, till they perceived that they had totally lost it. They had continued near the brow of the precipice, allured51 by the scenery it exhibited, while the road wound far away over the cliff above. Valancourt called loudly to Michael, but heard no voice, except his own, echoing among the rocks, and his various efforts to regain52 the road were equally unsuccessful. While they were thus circumstanced, they perceived a shepherd’s cabin, between the boles of the trees at some distance, and Valancourt bounded on first to ask assistance. When he reached it, he saw only two little children, at play, on the turf before the door. He looked into the hut, but no person was there, and the eldest53 of the boys told him that their father was with his flocks, and their mother was gone down into the vale, but would be back presently. As he stood, considering what was further to be done, on a sudden he heard Michael’s voice roaring forth54 most manfully among the cliffs above, till he made their echoes ring. Valancourt immediately answered the call, and endeavoured to make his way through the thicket55 that clothed the steeps, following the direction of the sound. After much struggle over brambles and precipices56, he reached Michael, and at length prevailed with him to be silent, and to listen to him. The road was at a considerable distance from the spot where St. Aubert and Emily were; the carriage could not easily return to the entrance of the wood, and, since it would be very fatiguing for St. Aubert to climb the long and steep road to the place where it now stood, Valancourt was anxious to find a more easy ascent, by the way he had himself passed.
Meanwhile St. Aubert and Emily approached the cottage, and rested themselves on a rustic57 bench, fastened between two pines, which overshadowed it, till Valancourt, whose steps they had observed, should return.
The eldest of the children desisted from his play, and stood still to observe the strangers, while the younger continued his little gambols58, and teased his brother to join in them. St. Aubert looked with pleasure upon this picture of infantine simplicity, till it brought to his remembrance his own boys, whom he had lost about the age of these, and their lamented59 mother; and he sunk into a thoughtfulness, which Emily observing, she immediately began to sing one of those simple and lively airs he was so fond of, and which she knew how to give with the most captivating sweetness. St. Aubert smiled on her through his tears, took her hand and pressed it affectionately, and then tried to dissipate the melancholy reflections that lingered in his mind.
While she sung, Valancourt approached, who was unwilling60 to interrupt her, and paused at a little distance to listen. When she had concluded, he joined the party, and told them, that he had found Michael, as well as a way, by which he thought they could ascend61 the cliff to the carriage. He pointed62 to the woody steeps above, which St. Aubert surveyed with an anxious eye. He was already wearied by his walk, and this ascent was formidable to him. He thought, however, it would be less toilsome than the long and broken road, and he determined64 to attempt it; but Emily, ever watchful65 of his ease, proposing that he should rest, and dine before they proceeded further, Valancourt went to the carriage for the refreshments66 deposited there.
On his return, he proposed removing a little higher up the mountain, to where the woods opened upon a grand and extensive prospect17; and thither68 they were preparing to go, when they saw a young woman join the children, and caress69 and weep over them.
The travellers, interested by her distress70, stopped to observe her. She took the youngest of the children in her arms, and, perceiving the strangers, hastily dried her tears, and proceeded to the cottage. St. Aubert, on enquiring71 the occasion of her sorrow, learned that her husband, who was a shepherd, and lived here in the summer months to watch over the flocks he led to feed upon these mountains, had lost, on the preceding night, his little all. A gang of gipsies, who had for some time infested72 the neighbourhood, had driven away several of his master’s sheep. ‘Jacques,’ added the shepherd’s wife, ‘had saved a little money, and had bought a few sheep with it, and now they must go to his master for those that are stolen; and what is worse than all, his master, when he comes to know how it is, will trust him no longer with the care of his flocks, for he is a hard man! and then what is to become of our children!’
The innocent countenance of the woman, and the simplicity of her manner in relating her grievance73, inclined St. Aubert to believe her story; and Valancourt, convinced that it was true, asked eagerly what was the value of the stolen sheep; on hearing which he turned away with a look of disappointment. St. Aubert put some money into her hand, Emily too gave something from her little purse, and they walked towards the cliff; but Valancourt lingered behind, and spoke to the shepherd’s wife, who was now weeping with gratitude74 and surprise. He enquired75 how much money was yet wanting to replace the stolen sheep, and found, that it was a sum very little short of all he had about him. He was perplexed76 and distressed77. ‘This sum then,’ said he to himself, ‘would make this poor family completely happy — it is in my power to give it — to make them completely happy! But what is to become of me?— how shall I contrive78 to reach home with the little money that will remain?’ For a moment he stood, unwilling to forego the luxury of raising a family from ruin to happiness, yet considering the difficulties of pursuing his journey with so small a sum as would be left.
While he was in this state of perplexity, the shepherd himself appeared: his children ran to meet him; he took one of them in his arms, and, with the other clinging to his coat, came forward with a loitering step. His forlorn and melancholy look determined Valancourt at once; he threw down all the money he had, except a very few louis, and bounded away after St. Aubert and Emily, who were proceeding79 slowly up the steep. Valancourt had seldom felt his heart so light as at this moment; his gay spirits danced with pleasure; every object around him appeared more interesting, or beautiful, than before. St. Aubert observed the uncommon80 vivacity of his countenance: ‘What has pleased you so much?’ said he. ‘O what a lovely day,’ replied Valancourt, ‘how brightly the sun shines, how pure is this air, what enchanting81 scenery!’ ‘It is indeed enchanting,’ said St. Aubert, whom early experience had taught to understand the nature of Valancourt’s present feelings. ‘What pity that the wealthy, who can command such sunshine, should ever pass their days in gloom — in the cold shade of selfishness! For you, my young friend, may the sun always shine as brightly as at this moment; may your own conduct always give you the sunshine of benevolence82 and reason united!’
Valancourt, highly flattered by this compliment, could make no reply but by a smile of gratitude.
They continued to wind under the woods, between the grassy knolls83 of the mountain, and, as they reached the shady summit, which he had pointed out, the whole party burst into an exclamation84. Behind the spot where they stood, the rock rose perpendicularly85 in a massy wall to a considerable height, and then branched out into overhanging crags. Their grey tints86 were well contrasted by the bright hues87 of the plants and wild flowers, that grew in their fractured sides, and were deepened by the gloom of the pines and cedars88, that waved above. The steeps below, over which the eye passed abruptly89 to the valley, were fringed with thickets90 of alpine91 shrubs92; and, lower still, appeared the tufted tops of the chesnut woods, that clothed their base, among which peeped forth the shepherd’s cottage, just left by the travellers, with its blueish smoke curling high in the air. On every side appeared the majestic93 summits of the Pyrenees, some exhibiting tremendous crags of marble, whose appearance was changing every instant, as the varying lights fell upon their surface; others, still higher, displaying only snowy points, while their lower steeps were covered almost invariably with forests of pine, larch94, and oak, that stretched down to the vale. This was one of the narrow vallies, that open from the Pyrenees into the country of Rousillon, and whose green pastures, and cultivated beauty, form a decided95 and wonderful contrast to the romantic grandeur that environs it. Through a vista96 of the mountains appeared the lowlands of Rousillon, tinted97 with the blue haze98 of distance, as they united with the waters of the Mediterranean99; where, on a promontory100, which marked the boundary of the shore, stood a lonely beacon101, over which were seen circling flights of sea-fowl. Beyond, appeared, now and then, a stealing sail, white with the sun-beam, and whose progress was perceivable by its approach to the light-house. Sometimes, too, was seen a sail so distant, that it served only to mark the line of separation between the sky and the waves.
On the other side of the valley, immediately opposite to the spot where the travellers rested, a rocky pass opened toward Gascony. Here no sign of cultivation102 appeared. The rocks of granite103, that screened the glen, rose abruptly from their base, and stretched their barren points to the clouds, unvaried with woods, and uncheered even by a hunter’s cabin. Sometimes, indeed, a gigantic larch threw its long shade over the precipice, and here and there a cliff reared on its brow a monumental cross, to tell the traveller the fate of him who had ventured thither before. This spot seemed the very haunt of banditti; and Emily, as she looked down upon it, almost expected to see them stealing out from some hollow cave to look for their prey104. Soon after an object not less terrific struck her,— a gibbet standing50 on a point of rock near the entrance of the pass, and immediately over one of the crosses she had before observed. These were hieroglyphics105 that told a plain and dreadful story. She forbore to point it out to St. Aubert, but it threw a gloom over her spirits, and made her anxious to hasten forward, that they might with certainty reach Rousillon before night-fall. It was necessary, however, that St. Aubert should take some refreshment67, and, seating themselves on the short dry turf, they opened the basket of provisions, while
by breezy murmurs106 cool’d,
Broad o’er THEIR heads the verdant107 cedars wave,
And high palmetos lift their graceful108 shade.
——-THEY draw
Ethereal soul, there drink reviving gales109
Profusely110 breathing from the piney groves111,
And vales of fragrance; there at a distance hear
The roaring floods, and cataracts112.*
* Thomson
St. Aubert was revived by rest, and by the serene113 air of this summit; and Valancourt was so charmed with all around, and with the conversation of his companions, that he seemed to have forgotten he had any further to go. Having concluded their simple repast, they gave a long farewell look to the scene, and again began to ascend. St. Aubert rejoiced when he reached the carriage, which Emily entered with him; but Valancourt, willing to take a more extensive view of the enchanting country, into which they were about to descend114, than he could do from a carriage, loosened his dogs, and once more bounded with them along the banks of the road. He often quitted it for points that promised a wider prospect, and the slow pace, at which the mules115 travelled, allowed him to overtake them with ease. Whenever a scene of uncommon magnificence appeared, he hastened to inform St. Aubert, who, though he was too much tired to walk himself, sometimes made the chaise wait, while Emily went to the neighbouring cliff.
It was evening when they descended116 the lower alps, that bind117 Rousillon, and form a majestic barrier round that charming country, leaving it open only on the east to the Mediterranean. The gay tints of cultivation once more beautified the landscape; for the lowlands were coloured with the richest hues, which a luxuriant climate, and an industrious118 people can awaken18 into life. Groves of orange and lemon perfumed the air, their ripe fruit glowing among the foliage; while, sloping to the plains, extensive vineyards spread their treasures. Beyond these, woods and pastures, and mingled towns and hamlets stretched towards the sea, on whose bright surface gleamed many a distant sail; while, over the whole scene, was diffused the purple glow of evening. This landscape with the surrounding alps did, indeed, present a perfect picture of the lovely and the sublime, of ‘beauty sleeping in the lap of horror.’
The travellers, having reached the plains, proceeded, between hedges of flowering myrtle and pomegranate, to the town of Arles, where they proposed to rest for the night. They met with simple, but neat accommodation, and would have passed a happy evening, after the toils63 and the delights of this day, had not the approaching separation thrown a gloom over their spirit. It was St. Aubert’s plan to proceed, on the morrow, to the borders of the Mediterranean, and travel along its shores into Languedoc; and Valancourt, since he was now nearly recovered, and had no longer a pretence119 for continuing with his new friends, resolved to leave them here. St. Aubert, who was much pleased with him, invited him to go further, but did not repeat the invitation, and Valancourt had resolution enough to forego the temptation of accepting it, that he might prove himself not unworthy of the favour. On the following morning, therefore, they were to part, St. Aubert to pursue his way to Languedoc, and Valancourt to explore new scenes among the mountains, on his return home. During this evening he was often silent and thoughtful; St. Aubert’s manner towards him was affectionate, though grave, and Emily was serious, though she made frequent efforts to appear cheerful. After one of the most melancholy evenings they had yet passed together, they separated for the night.
点击
收听单词发音
收听单词发音 |
1
rosy
|
|
| adj.美好的，乐观的，玫瑰色的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
2
anguish
|
|
| n.(尤指心灵上的)极度痛苦，烦恼 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
3
sufficiently
|
|
| adv.足够地，充分地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
4
repose
|
|
| v.(使)休息；n.安息 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
5
softened
|
|
| （使）变软( soften的过去式和过去分词 )； 缓解打击； 缓和； 安慰 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
6
recesses
|
|
| 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 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
7
grassy
|
|
| adj.盖满草的；长满草的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
8
bosom
|
|
| n.胸，胸部；胸怀；内心；adj.亲密的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
9
herds
|
|
| 兽群( herd的名词复数 )； 牧群； 人群； 群众 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
10
rivulet
|
|
| n.小溪，小河 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
11
repent
|
|
| v.悔悟，悔改，忏悔，后悔 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
12
fatiguing
|
|
| a.使人劳累的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
13
rugged
|
|
| adj.高低不平的，粗糙的，粗壮的，强健的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
14
precipice
|
|
| n.悬崖，危急的处境 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
15
sublimity
|
|
| 崇高，庄严，气质高尚 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
16
prospects
|
|
| n.希望，前途(恒为复数) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
17
prospect
|
|
| n.前景，前途；景色，视野 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
18
awaken
|
|
| vi.醒，觉醒；vt.唤醒，使觉醒，唤起，激起 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
19
awakened
|
|
| v.（使）醒( awaken的过去式和过去分词 )；（使）觉醒；弄醒；（使）意识到 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
20
delightful
|
|
| adj.令人高兴的，使人快乐的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
21
sublime
|
|
| adj.崇高的，伟大的；极度的，不顾后果的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
22
conversing
|
|
| v.交谈，谈话( converse的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
23
ingenuous
|
|
| adj.纯朴的，单纯的；天真的；坦率的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
24
simplicity
|
|
| n.简单，简易；朴素；直率，单纯 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
25
intercourse
|
|
| n.性交；交流，交往，交际 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
26
imbibed
|
|
| v.吸收( imbibe的过去式和过去分词 )；喝；吸取；吸气 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
27
countenance
|
|
| n.脸色，面容；面部表情；vt.支持，赞同 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
28
animated
|
|
| adj.生气勃勃的，活跃的，愉快的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
29
spoke
|
|
| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
30
elevation
|
|
| n.高度；海拔；高地；上升；提高 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
31
secluded
|
|
| 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) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
32
corrupt
|
|
| v.贿赂，收买；adj.腐败的，贪污的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
33
meek
|
|
| adj.温顺的，逆来顺受的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
34
innocence
|
|
| n.无罪；天真；无害 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
35
virtue
|
|
| n.德行，美德；贞操；优点；功效，效力 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
36
ascent
|
|
| n.(声望或地位)提高；上升，升高；登高 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
37
refreshing
|
|
| adj.使精神振作的，使人清爽的，使人喜欢的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
38
diffused
|
|
| 散布的，普及的，扩散的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
39
mingled
|
|
| 混合，混入( mingle的过去式和过去分词 )； 混进，与…交往[联系] | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
40
fragrance
|
|
| n.芬芳，香味，香气 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
41
grandeur
|
|
| n.伟大，崇高，宏伟，庄严，豪华 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
42
beech
|
|
| n.山毛榉；adj.山毛榉的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
43
chestnuts
|
|
| n.栗子( chestnut的名词复数 )；栗色；栗树；栗色马 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
44
foliage
|
|
| n.叶子，树叶，簇叶 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
45
formerly
|
|
| adv.从前，以前 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
46
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 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
47
vivacity
|
|
| n.快活，活泼，精神充沛 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
48
musing
|
|
| n. 沉思，冥想 adj. 沉思的, 冥想的 动词muse的现在分词形式 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
49
melancholy
|
|
| n.忧郁，愁思；adj.令人感伤（沮丧）的，忧郁的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
50
standing
|
|
| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
51
allured
|
|
| 诱引，吸引( allure的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
52
regain
|
|
| vt.重新获得，收复，恢复 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
53
eldest
|
|
| adj.最年长的，最年老的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
54
forth
|
|
| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
55
thicket
|
|
| n.灌木丛，树林 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
56
precipices
|
|
| n.悬崖，峭壁( precipice的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
57
rustic
|
|
| adj.乡村的，有乡村特色的；n.乡下人，乡巴佬 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
58
gambols
|
|
| v.蹦跳，跳跃，嬉戏( gambol的第三人称单数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
|
59
lamented
|
|
| adj.被哀悼的，令人遗憾的v.（为…）哀悼，痛哭，悲伤( lament的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
60
unwilling
|
|
| adj.不情愿的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
61
ascend
|
|
| vi.渐渐上升，升高；vt.攀登，登上 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
62
pointed
|
|
| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
63
toils
|
|
| 网 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
64
determined
|
|
| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
65
watchful
|
|
| adj.注意的，警惕的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
66
refreshments
|
|
| n.点心,便餐;(会议后的)简单茶点招 待 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
67
refreshment
|
|
| n.恢复，精神爽快，提神之事物；（复数）refreshments:点心，茶点 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
68
thither
|
|
| adv.向那里；adj.在那边的，对岸的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
69
caress
|
|
| vt./n.爱抚，抚摸 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
70
distress
|
|
| n.苦恼，痛苦，不舒适；不幸；vt.使悲痛 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
71
enquiring
|
|
| a.爱打听的，显得好奇的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
72
infested
|
|
| adj.为患的，大批滋生的（常与with搭配）v.害虫、野兽大批出没于( infest的过去式和过去分词 )；遍布于 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
73
grievance
|
|
| n.怨愤，气恼，委屈 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
74
gratitude
|
|
| adj.感激，感谢 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
75
enquired
|
|
| 打听( enquire的过去式和过去分词 )； 询问； 问问题； 查问 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
76
perplexed
|
|
| adj.不知所措的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
77
distressed
|
|
| 痛苦的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
78
contrive
|
|
| vt.谋划，策划；设法做到；设计，想出 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
79
proceeding
|
|
| n.行动，进行，(pl.)会议录，学报 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
80
uncommon
|
|
| adj.罕见的，非凡的，不平常的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
81
enchanting
|
|
| a.讨人喜欢的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
82
benevolence
|
|
| n.慈悲，捐助 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
83
knolls
|
|
| n.小圆丘，小土墩( knoll的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
84
exclamation
|
|
| n.感叹号，惊呼，惊叹词 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
85
perpendicularly
|
|
| adv. 垂直地, 笔直地, 纵向地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
86
tints
|
|
| 色彩( tint的名词复数 )； 带白的颜色； （淡色）染发剂； 痕迹 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
87
hues
|
|
| 色彩( hue的名词复数 )； 色调； 信仰； 观点 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
88
cedars
|
|
| 雪松，西洋杉( cedar的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
89
abruptly
|
|
| adv.突然地，出其不意地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
90
thickets
|
|
| n.灌木丛( thicket的名词复数 )；丛状物 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
91
alpine
|
|
| adj.高山的；n.高山植物 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
92
shrubs
|
|
| 灌木( shrub的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
93
majestic
|
|
| adj.雄伟的，壮丽的，庄严的，威严的，崇高的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
94
larch
|
|
| n.落叶松 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
95
decided
|
|
| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
96
vista
|
|
| n.远景，深景，展望，回想 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
97
tinted
|
|
| adj. 带色彩的 动词tint的过去式和过去分词 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
98
haze
|
|
| n.霾，烟雾；懵懂，迷糊；vi.(over)变模糊 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
99
Mediterranean
|
|
| adj.地中海的；地中海沿岸的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
100
promontory
|
|
| n.海角；岬 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
101
beacon
|
|
| n.烽火，（警告用的）闪火灯，灯塔 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
102
cultivation
|
|
| n.耕作，培养，栽培（法），养成 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
103
granite
|
|
| adj.花岗岩，花岗石 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
104
prey
|
|
| n.被掠食者，牺牲者，掠食；v.捕食，掠夺，折磨 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
105
hieroglyphics
|
|
| n.pl.象形文字 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
106
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 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
107
verdant
|
|
| adj.翠绿的，青翠的，生疏的，不老练的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
108
graceful
|
|
| adj.优美的，优雅的；得体的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
109
gales
|
|
| 龙猫 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
110
profusely
|
|
| ad.abundantly | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
111
groves
|
|
| 树丛，小树林( grove的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
112
cataracts
|
|
| n.大瀑布( cataract的名词复数 )；白内障 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
113
serene
|
|
| adj. 安详的，宁静的，平静的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
114
descend
|
|
| vt./vi.传下来，下来，下降 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
115
mules
|
|
| 骡( mule的名词复数 )； 拖鞋； 顽固的人； 越境运毒者 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
116
descended
|
|
| a.为...后裔的，出身于...的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
117
bind
|
|
| vt.捆，包扎；装订；约束；使凝固；vi.变硬 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
118
industrious
|
|
| adj.勤劳的，刻苦的，奋发的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
119
pretence
|
|
| n.假装，作假；借口，口实；虚伪；虚饰 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
| 欢迎访问英文小说网 |