Longfellow 英美文学教案

Unit 9 Henry Wadsworth LongfellowA Psalm of Life: What the Heart of the Young Man Said to the Psalmist (1838)Tell me not, in mournful numbers1,Life is but an empty dream! For the soul is dead that slumbers2,And things are not what they seem.Life is real! Life is earnest!And the grave is not its goal;Dust thou art, to dust returnest3,Was not spoken of the soul. Not enjoyment, and not sorrow,Is our destined end or way;But to act, that each to-morrowFind us farther than to-day. Art is long, and Time is fleeting4,And our hearts, though stout and brave,Still, like muffled drums5, are beatingFuneral marches to the grave. In the worlds broad field of battle,In the bivouac6 of Life,Be not like dumb, driven cattle!Be a hero in the strife! Trust no Future, howeer pleasant!Let the dead Past bury its dead!Act,-act in the living Present!Heart within, and God oerhead! Lives of great men all remind usWe can make our lives sublime,And, departing, leave behind usFootprints on the sands of time7;- Footprints, that perhaps another,Sailing oer lifes solemn main,A forlorn and shipwrecked brother,Seeing, shall take heart again. Let us, then, be up8 and doing,With a heart for any fate;Still achieving, still pursuing,Learn to labor and to wait.(Frowde, Henry. The Poetical Works of Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, London: Oxford University of Press Wakehouse, 1893. 3.)Notes1 numbers: meters, rhythms. 2 slumber: sleep, doze, drowse. 3 Dust thou art, to dust returnest: The author asserts that the soul will not die in an allusion to the Genesis 3:19 in the Old Testament, where God says to the fallen Adam, “dust thou art, and unto dust shalt thou return.”, which means from none to none.4 Art is long, and Time is fleeting: it originates from the first two lines of the Aphorismi by the Ancient Greek physician Hippocrates. It is a paraphrase of the familiar Latin translation Ars Longa, Vita brevis which reverses the order of the original lines. It means that life is short, but art is long. 5 muffled drums: a quiet drum that is wrapped around by a towel. The author compares the human heartbeat to “muffled drums,” which implies that reminds us of the transient nature of life and each beat of our hearts carries us closer to death.6 bivouac: camp. 7 Footprints on the sands of time: The author suggests the idea of a record of greatness by using a metaphor“footprints on the sands of time”which describes the mark that great individuals leave on history.8 be up: stand up. Questions for discussion1. What is the theme of the poem? Would the poem be considered a fireside poem?2. Could you give us some examples of alliteration in the poem?3. Which line best expresses the speakers overall attitude toward life? Why? 它以一位年轻人的口吻表达了诗人对人生的见解，以及如何认识生命的时间性，并指出人生的目标、道路在于行动和不断的自我超越。My Lost Youth (1855)OFTEN I think of the beautiful town That is seated by the sea; Often in thought go up and down The pleasant streets of that dear old town, And my youth comes back to me. And a verse of a Lapland1 song Is haunting my memory still: “A boys will is the winds will, And the thoughts of youth are long, long thoughts.” I can see the shadowy lines of its trees, And catch, in sudden gleams, The sheen of the far-surrounding seas, And islands that were the Hesperides2 Of all my boyish dreams. And the burden of that old song, It murmurs and whispers still: “A boys will is the winds will, And the thoughts of youth are long, long thoughts.” I remember the black wharves and the slips, And the sea-tides tossing free; And Spanish sailors with bearded lips, And the beauty and mystery of the ships, And the magic of the sea. And the voice of that wayward song Is singing and saying still: “A boys will is the winds will, And the thoughts of youth are long, long thoughts.” I remember the bulwarks3 by the shore, And the fort upon the hill; The sunrise gun, with its hollow roar, The drum-beat repeated oer and oer, And the bugle wild and shrill. And the music of that old song Throbs in my memory still: “A boys will is the winds will, And the thoughts of youth are long, long thoughts.” I remember the sea-fight far away, How it thundered oer the tide! And the dead captains, as they lay In their graves, oerlooking the tranquil bay Where they in battle died. And the sound of that mournful song Goes through me with a thrill: “A boys will is the winds will, And the thoughts of youth are long, long thoughts.” I can see the breezy dome of groves, The shadows of Deerings Woods; And the friendships old and the early loves Come back with a Sabbath4 sound, as of doves In quiet neighborhoods. And the verse of that sweet old song, It flutters and murmurs still: “A boys will is the winds will, And the thoughts of youth are long, long thoughts.” I remember the gleams and glooms that dart Across the school-boys brain; The song and the silence in the heart, That in part are prophecies, and in part Are longings wild and vain. And the voice of that fitful song Sings on, and is never still: “A boys will is the winds will, And the thoughts of youth are long, long thoughts.” There are things of which I may not speak; There are dreams that cannot die; There are thoughts that make the strong heart weak, And bring a pallor into the cheek, And a mist before the eye. And the words of that fatal song Come over me like a chill: “A boys will is the winds will, And the thoughts of youth are long, long thoughts.” Strange to me now are the forms I meet When I visit the dear old town; But the native air is pure and sweet, And the trees that oershadow each well-known street, As they balance up and down, Are singing the beautiful song, Are sighing and whispering still: “A boys will is the winds will, And the thoughts of youth are long, long thoughts.” And Deerings Woods are f