在战场的深红色中绘出的一枚仙环——在它的怪圈里，一切令人厌恶的东西、痛苦的景象和声音都被驱除了，而在它周围的空中，从地面，从低垂的天空，在一个像先知垂死的眼睛一样美丽的景象中，我们周围的那个看不见的世界的光芒，彩虹色的形状，展开了星光般的翅膀，在这飘逸的斗篷上，伫立片刻，就像在落日沉默的主的金色泡沫上刺穿一样——想象一下，在这迷人的圆顶上，在这战争和死亡的夜晚，在这武装的城市呼吸的地方，我们建造了什么!虽然没有魔法棒，也没有魔杯，但在这迷人的殿堂里，我们打开了那神圣仙境的大门，在那里，比我们所站立的俗世更高贵的命运统治着，思想王国的聪明生物在那里活动。在一个快乐的夜晚，远离我们周围怒吼的洪水，在这里，你可以看到——仿佛沙漠的道路可以开花，开辟一个五月清新的花园——在呼吸的血肉中具体化，灵魂在诗人的书页上生活了一个又一个世纪，却从未戴上这尘世的泥土。在那里，美丽的米兰达的微笑遇见了那位可爱的陌生人，父亲的艺术把她引到她的心上，她的微笑，像等待光明的蓓蕾，一见光明就怒放!当朱丽叶用手托着脸颊，对着黑夜絮叨时，每个少女眼中的爱都会变得柔和起来。不一会儿，一个牧师的身影，衣衫褴褛，前额裸露，向空气的所有折磨挑战，走过了!压抑的感情在一声长叹中窒息，当模仿的雷声轰鸣时，你听到《李尔王》那高贵的残片责备，象是生命之物，对着古老的天空，和风暴交谈!瞧!接下来是一间昏暗而寂静的房间，温柔的苔丝狄蒙娜躺在那里，沉浸在愉快的梦中，也许摩尔人正在梦中讲述他的离奇故事，她没有意识到夜的杀人情人。 Then through a hush like death Stalks Denmark's mail|"ed ghost! And Hamlet enters with that thoughtful breath Which is the trumpet to a countless host Of reasons, but which wakes no deed from sleep; For while it calls to strife, He pauses on the very brink of fact To toy as with the shadow of an act, And utter those wise saws that cut so deep Into the core of life! Nor shall be wanting many a scene Where forms of more familiar mien, Moving through lowlier pathways, shall present The world of every day, Such as it whirls along the busy quay, Or sits beneath a rustic orchard wall, Or floats about a fashion-freighted hall, Or toils in attics dark the night away. Love, hate, grief, joy, gain, glory, shame, shall meet, As in the round wherein our lives are pent; Chance for a while shall seem to reign, While Goodness roves like Guilt about the street, And Guilt looks innocent. But all at last shall vindicate the right, Crime shall be meted with its proper pain, Motes shall be taken from the doubter's sight, And Fortune's general justice rendered plain. Of honest laughter there shall be no dearth, Wit shall shake hands with humor grave and sweet, Our wisdom shall not be too wise for mirth, Nor kindred follies want a fool to greet. As sometimes from the meanest spot of earth A sudden beauty unexpected starts, So you shall find some germs of hidden worth Within the vilest hearts; And now and then, when in those moods that turn To the cold Muse that whips a fault with sneers, You shall, perchance, be strangely touched to learn You've struck a spring of tears! But while we lead you thus from change to change, Shall we not find within our ample range Some type to elevate a people's heart -- Some hero who shall teach a hero's part In this distracted time? Rise from thy sleep of ages, noble Tell! And, with the Alpine thunders of thy voice, As if across the billows unenthralled Thy Alps unto the Alleghanies called, Bid Liberty rejoice! Proclaim upon this trans-Atlantic strand The deeds which, more than their own awful mien, Make every crag of Switzerland sublime! And say to those whose feeble souls would lean, Not on themselves, but on some outstretched hand, That once a single mind sufficed to quell The malice of a tyrant; let them know That each may crowd in every well-aimed blow, Not the poor strength alone of arm and brand, But the whole spirit of a mighty land! Bid Liberty rejoice! Aye, though its day Be far or near, these clouds shall yet be red With the large promise of the coming ray. Meanwhile, with that calm courage which can