一、诺森伯兰郡的冬天花园外，潮湿的天空变硬了;夏天的那一面，大门是闩着的:“把花季、阳光和雨点关在门外;为我们的时代让路。”狂风喊道。曾经郁郁葱葱，郁郁葱葱的树林，疲惫不堪，叹息着，沉闷的弱太阳回家了;一阵大风抓住波浪，在死绿的海底溅起泡沫。穿过丘陵和沼地，穿过咸海前陆，我们喧闹的北国回响着，响起;下面的波浪被吹得粉碎，风吹出雷鸣，翅膀像云一样宽;漂海使灯塔的微光暗淡;帆船和游泳者都无法驾驭潮汐;当树叶发芽时，雪堆变得更厚了，在石南花下，紫苏藏了起来。绿色的土地和红色的土地，沼地和海岬，白得像死寂的土地，都像一体; Nor honied heather, Nor bells to gather, Fair with fair weather And faithful sun: Fierce frost has eaten All flowers that sweeten The fells rain-beaten; And winds their foes Have made the snow's bed Down in the rose-bed; Deep in the snow's bed bury the rose. Bury her deeper Than any sleeper; Sweet dreams will keep her All day, all night; Though sleep benumb her And time o'ercome her, She dreams of summer, And takes delight, Dreaming and sleeping In love's good keeping, While rain is weeping And no leaves cling; Winds will come bringing her Comfort, and singing her Stories and songs and good news of the spring. Draw the white curtain Close, and be certain She takes no hurt in Her soft low bed; She feels no colder, And grows not older, Though snows enfold her From foot to head; She turns not chilly Like weed and lily In marsh or hilly High watershed, Or green soft island In lakes of highland; She sleeps awhile, and she is not dead. For all the hours, Come sun, come showers, Are friends of flowers, And fairies all; When frost entrapped her, They came and lapped her In leaves, and wrapped her With shroud and pall; In red leaves wound her, With dead leaves bound her Dead brows, and round her A death-knell rang; Rang the death-bell for her, Sang, "is it well for her, Well, is it well with you, rose?" they sang. O what and where is The rose now, fairies, So shrill the air is, So wild the sky? Poor last of roses, Her worst of woes is The noise she knows is The winter's cry; His hunting hollo Has scared the swallow; Fain would she follow And fain would fly: But wind unsettles Her poor last petals; Had she but wings, and she would not die. Come, as you love her, Come close and cover Her white face over, And forth again Ere sunset glances On foam that dances, Through lowering lances Of bright white rain; And make your playtime Of winter's daytime, As if the Maytime Were here to sing; As if the snowballs Were soft like blowballs, Blown in a mist from the stalk in the spring. Each reed that grows in Our stream is frozen, The fields it flows in Are hard and black; The water-fairy Waits wise and wary Till time shall vary And thaws come back. "O sister, water," The wind besought her, "O twin-born daughter Of spring with me, Stay with me, play with me, Take the warm way with me, Straight for the summer and oversea." But winds will vary, And wise and wary The patient fairy Of water waits; All shrunk and wizen, In iron prison, Till spring re-risen Unbar the gates; Till, as with clamor Of axe and hammer, Chained streams that stammer And struggle in straits Burst bonds that shiver, And thaws deliver The roaring river in stormy spates. In fierce March weather White waves break tether, And whirled together At either hand, Like weeds uplifted, The tree-trunks rifted In spars are drifted, Like foam or sand, Past swamp and sallow And reed-beds callow, Through pool and shallow, To wind and lee, Till, no more tongue-tied, Full flood and young tide Roar down the rapids and storm the sea. As men's cheeks faded On shores invaded, When shorewards waded The lords of fight; When churl and craven Saw hard on haven The wide-winged raven At mainmast height; When monks affrighted To windward sighted The birds full-flighted Of swift sea-kings; So earth turns paler When Storm the sailor Steers in with a roar in the race of his wings. O strong sea-sailor, Whose cheek turns paler For wind or