和平!哪里可以找到你呢?在那广阔的大地上，哪里可以追寻你的脚步?在哪里可以看到你平静的座位?你躺在某座山上，安详地靠近周围的天空，对着下面的乌云微笑，那里是暴风骤雨的发源地?或者，在某个僻静的平原上，不受打扰?那里没有狂暴的旋风经过，那里没有洪水压迫草。高高在上，或深深在下，我希望你的撤退会知道。但愿你能给我一个人安慰，安慰我疲惫不堪的心灵。因为在这里，世界所享受的，或我们的激情所利用的，都是和平所反对或破坏的。 Pleasure's a tumultuous thing, Busy still, and still on Wing; Flying swift, from place to place, Darting from each beauteous Face; From each strongly mingled Bowl Through th'inflam'd and restless Soul. Sov'reign Pow'r who fondly craves, But himself to Pomp enslaves; Stands the Envy of Mankind, Peace, in vain, attempts to find. Thirst of Wealth no Quiet knows, But near the Death-bed fiercer grows; Wounding Men with secret Stings, For Evils it on Others brings. War who not discreetly shuns, Thorough Life the Gauntlet runs. Swords, and Pikes, and Waves, and Flames, Each their Stroke against him aims. Love (if such a thing there be) Is all Despair, or Extasie. Poetry's the feav'rish Fit, Th' o'erflowing of unbounded Wit.