喏，莫里斯，在这我们所热爱的平原上，想想一只敏捷的羚羊的死吧，它在壮年的时候，曾带领一群羚羊，从日出开始，不眠不眠，跑了一百英里，像狼一样，在太阳落山之前，把它们累坏了，杀死了。阿古斯，在他年老的时候，被帐篷的烟雾和刺眼的雪光所遮蔽，独自带着他的曾孙们，干瘪而憔悴，在温暖的阳光下，沿着一根为他引路的绳子爬着。有一次，锐利的秋天在沼泽上形成了一层薄薄的冰，他抓住了一匹骁勇而归的小马，他所有的本能都恢复了，加速了，他骑上了马，感觉到北方，向最后的山湖驶去，在那里，他年轻时用他的燧石箭射中了沙丘上的鹤。在这几个小时里，他沉浸在异教的幻想、自由的梦想和粗犷的冒险中，心醉神迷地走着，直到太阳在草原上闪耀，然后停了下来，摇摇晃晃地从他的小马上滑了下来。他躺在杨树丛里，藏在蕨菜里;轻盈的白杨树上的树叶簇拥在一起窃语着，颤抖着，在落日的金色烟雾前飘动着，其间的空隙像海水一样绿，又像大海的深水一样平静。阿库斯静静地躺在那里的蕨类植物中，最后与阿尔冈昆族的酋长们聚集在一起。接着，漆黑的夕阳被吹灭了，所有的金色烟雾都变成了云残骸。一只鹿永远睡在白杨树中，被远处红鹿的风包裹着，恐龙睡在那里，被困在岩石坟墓里。谁能数一数从《野鹿的沉睡》到《恐龙》之间的时间? Innumerable time, that yet is like the breath Of the long wind that creeps upon the prairie And dies away with the shadows at sundown. . . . . . . What we may think, who brood upon the theme, Is, when the old world, tired of spinning, has fallen Asleep, and all the forms, that carried the fire Of life, are cold upon her marble heart? Like ashes on the altar?just as she stops, That something will escape of soul or essence,? The sum of life, to kindle otherwhere: Just as the fruit of a high sunny garden, Grown mellow with autumnal sun and rain, Shrivelled with ripeness, splits to the rich heart, And looses a gold kernel to the mould, So the old world, hanging long in the sun, And deep enriched with effort and with love, Shall, in the motions of maturity, Wither and part, and the kernel of it all Escape, a lovely wraith of spirit, to latitudes Where the appearance, throated like a bird, Winged with fire and bodied all with passion, Shall flame with presage, not of tears, but joy.