Written in March (by William wordsworth)

J J J

J J J

J J J

J J J

J J J

J J J

J J J

J J J

J J J

J J J

J J J

V. POEMS

LITTLE ROBIN REDBREAST

Little Robin Redbreast sat upon a tree,

Up went Pussy-cat and down went he;

Down came Pussy-cat and away Robin ran;

Said littte Robin Redbreast, "Catch me if you can!"

Little Robin Redbreast jumped upon a wall;

Pussy-cat jumped after him, and almost had a fall.

Little Robin chirped and sang, and what did Pussy say?

Pussy-cat said "Mew" and Robin jumped away.

FOR WANT OF A NAIL

For want of a nail, the shoe was lost,

For want of the shoe, the horse was lost,

For want of the horse, the rider was lost,

For want of the rider, the battle was lost,

For want of the battle, the kingdom was lost,

And all for the want of a horse-shoe nail.

Every thing looks very grey,

In rain, rain, rain,

I love to see it hit the ground

And then bounce up again.

Good, better, best,

Never rest,

Till good be better

And better best.

"Tick", the clock says,

"Tick, tick, tick",

What you have to do, do quick,

Time is gliding fast away

Let us act and act today.

The moments fly — a minute's gone,

The minutes fly — an hour is run,

The day is fled — the night is here,

Thus flies a week, a month, a year.

One, two, three, four,

Mary at the cottage door,

Five, six, seven, eight,

Eating cherries off a plate.

Hickory, Dickory Dock

The mouse ran up the clock,

The clock struck one,

The mouse ran down,

Hickory, Dickory Dock.

Diddle, Diddle, Dumpling, my son John,

Went to bed with his trousers on;

One shoe off and one shoe on,

Diddle, Diddle, Dumpling, my son John.

Hey diddle, diddle,

The cat and the fiddle,

The cow jumped over the moon;

The little dog laughed

To see such sport,

And dish ran away with the spoon.

Old Mother Hubboard

Went to the cupboard,

To get her poor doggy a bone;

But when she got there,

The cupboard was bare,

And so the poor doggy got none.

Goosey, goosey gander,

Where do you wander?

Upstairs and downstairs,

And in my lady's chamber,

Where I met an old man,

Who wouldn't say his prayers —

I took him by the left leg,

And threw him down the stairs.

Little boy blue,

Come blow your horn;

The sheep's in the meadow,

The cow's in the corn.

Where is the boy

Who looks after the sheep?

He's under the haystack, Fast asleep.

THE ARROW AND THE SONG (by H. W. Longfellow)

I shot an arrow into the air,

It fell to earth, I knew not where,

For so swiftly it flew, the sight

Could not follow it in its flight.

I breathed a song into the air,

It fell to earth, I knew not where,

For who has sight so keen and strong,

That it can follow the flight of a song?

Long, long afterwards in an oak

I found the arrow, still unbroke;

And the song, from beginning to end,

I found again in the heart of a friend.

TWILIGHT (by G. G. Byron)

It is the hour when from the boughs

The nightingale's high note is heard;

It is the hour when lover's vows

Seem sweet in every whispered word;

And gentle winds and waters near,

Make music to the lovely ear.

Each flower the dews have lightly wet,

And in the sky the stars are met

And on the wave is deeper blue,

And on the leaf a browner hue,

And in the heaven that clear obscure,

So softly dark, and darkly pure,

Which follows the decline of day,

As twilight melts beneath the moon away.

MY NATIVE LAND — GOOD NIGHT

"Adieu! adieu! my native shore

Fades over the waters blue;

The night winds sigh, the breakers roar,

And shrieks the wild sea-mew.

Yon[5] sun that sets upon the sea

We follow in his flight;

Farewell awile to him and thee,

My native Land — good night!

> (by Percy B. Shelley)

It was a winter such as when birds die In the deep forests; and the fishes lie Stiffened in the translucent ice, which makes Even the mud and slime of the warm lakes

A wrinkled clod as hard as brick; and when Among their children comfortable men

Gather about great fires, and yet feel cold;

Alas, then for the homeless beggar old.

INTO MY HEART AN AIR THAT KILLS (by Alfred Edward Housman)

Into my heart an air that kills From yon far country blows; What are those blue remembered hills, What spires, what farms are those?

That is the land of lost content,

I see it shining plain,

The happy highways where I went

And cannot come again.

MY HEART'S IN THE HIGHLANDS (by Robert Burns)

My heart's in the Highlands, my heart is not here,

My heart's in the Highlands, a-chasing the deer,

A-chasing the wild deer, and following the roe —

My heart's in the Highlands wherever I go!

Farewell to the Highlands, farewell to the North,

The birth-place of valour, the country of worth!

Whenever I wander, wherever I rove,

The hills of the Highlands for ever I love.

Farewell to the mountains high cover'd with snow,

Farewell to the straths and green valleys below;

Farewell to the forests and wild-hanging woods,

Farewell to the torrents a'nd loud-pouring floods!

My heart's in the Highlands, my heart is not here;

My heart's in the Highlands, a-chasing the deer;

A-chasing the wild deer, and following the roe,

My heart's in the Highlands wherever I go!

A RED, RED ROSE (by Robert Burns)

O, my luve[6] is like a red, red rose,

That's newly sprung in June;

O, my luve is like the melodie,[7]

That's sweetly play'd in tune

As fair art thou, my bonnie lass,[8]

So deep in luve am I;

And I will luve thee still, my dear,

Till a' the seas gang dry.[9]

Till a' the seas gang dry, my dear.

And the rocks melt wi' the sun;[10]

And I will luve thee still, my dear,

While the sands o' life[11] shall run.

And fare-thee-weel,[12] my only luve!

And fare-thee-weel a while!

And I will come again, my luve,

Tho'[13] it were ten thousand mile!

The cock is crowing,

The stream is flowing,

The small birds twitter,

The lake doth[14] glitter,

The green field sleeps in the sun;

The oldest and youngest

Are at work with the strongest;

The cattle are grazing,

Their heads never raising;

There are forty feeding like one!

Like an army defeated

The snow hath[15] retreated,

And now doth fare ill

On the top of the bare hill;

The plough-boy is whooping — anon — anon;

There's joy in the mountains;

There's life in the fountains;

Small clouds are sailing,

Blue sky prevailing;

The rain is over and gone!

I WANDERED LONELY AS A CLOUD

(by William Wordsworth)

I wandered lonely as a cloud

That floats high o'er[16] vales and hills,

When all at once I saw a crowd,

A host, of golden daffodils;

Besides the lake, beneath the trees,

Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.

Continuous as the stars that shine

And twinkle on the Milky way,

They stretched in never-ending line

Along the margin of a bay;

Ten thousand saw I at a glance,

Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.

The waves beside them danced; but they

Out-did the sparkling waves in glee;

A poet could not but be gay,

In such a jocund company:

I gazed — and gazed — but little thought

What wealth the show to me had brought:

For oft, when on my couch I lie

In vacant or in pensive mood,

They flash upon that inward eye

Which is the bliss of solitude;

And then my heart with pleasure fills,

And dances with the daffodils.

THOSE EVENING BELLS (by Thomas Moore)

I

Those evening bells! those evening bells!

How many a tale their music tells,

Of youth, and home, and that sweet time,

When last I heard their soothing chime!

II

Those joyous hours are past away!

And many a heart, that then was gay,

Within the tomb now darkly dwells,

And hears no more those evening bells!

Ill

And so 'twill be when I am gone;

That tuneful peal will still ring on,

While other bards shall walk these dells

And sing your praise, sweet evening bells!

SONNET 116 (by William Shakespeare)

Let me not to the marriage of true minds

Admit impediments. Love is not love

Which alters when it alteration finds,

Or bends with the remover to remove:

O, no! It is an ever-fixed mark,

That looks on tempests and is never shaken;

It is the star to every wandering bark,

Whose worth's unknown, although its height be taken.

Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks,

Within his bending sickle's compass come;

Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,

But bears it out even to the edge of doom.

If this be error, and upon me proved,

I never writ, nor no man ever loved.

SONNET CXXX (by William Shakespeare)

My mistress' eyes are nothing like the sun;

Coral is far more red than her lips' red;

If snow be white, why then her breasts are dun;

If hairs be wires, black wires grow on her head.

I have seen roses damask'd, red and white,

But no such roses see I in her cheeks;

And in some perfumes is there more delight

Than in the breath that from my mistress reeks.

I love to hear her speak, yet well I know

That music hath a far more pleasing sound;

I grant I never saw a goddess go;

My mistress, when she walks, treads on the ground:

And yet, by heaven, I think my love as rare

As any she belied with false compare.

SONNET XCI (by William Shakespeare)

Some glory in their birth, some in their skill, Some in their wealth, some in their bodies' force Some in their garments, though new-fangled ill, Some in their hawks and hounds, some in their horse; And every humour hath his adjunct pleasure, Wherein it finds a joy above the rest: But these particulars are not my measure; All these I better in one general best. Thy love is better than high birth to me, Richer than wealth, prouder than garments' cost, Of more delights than hawks or horses be; And, having thee, of all men's pride I boast. Wretched in this alone, that thou mayst take All this away and me most wretched make.

WHEN YOU ARE OLD (by William Butler Yeats)

When you are old and full of sleep

And nodding by the fire, take down the book

And showly read, and dream of the soft look

Your eyes had once and of their shadows deep,

How many loved your moments of glad grace

And loved your beauty with love false of true

But one man loved the pilgrim soul in you

And loved the sorrows beside the glowing bars

Murmur a little sadly how Love fled,

And paced upon the mountains overhead

And heed his face amid a crowd of stars.

IF (by Rudyard Kipling)

If you can keep your head when all about you

Are losing theirs and blaming it on you;

If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,

But make allowance for their doubting too;

If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,

Or, being lied about, don't deal in lies,

Or, being hated, don't give way to hating,

And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise;

If you can dream — and not make dreams your master;

If you can think — and not make thoughts your aim;

If you can meet with triumph and disaster

And treat those two impostors just the same;

If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken

Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,

Or watch the things you gave your life to broken,

And stoop and build 'em up with wornout tools;

If you can make one heap of all your winnings

And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,

And lose, and start again at your beginnings

And never breathe a word about your loss;

If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew

To serve your turn long after they are gone,

And so hold on when there is nothing in you

Except the Will which says to them: "Hold on";

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,

Or walk with kings — nor lose the common touch;

If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you;

If all men count with you, but none too much;

If you can fill the unforgiving minute

With sixty seconds' worth of distance run —

Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,

And — which is more — you'll be a Man, my son!

СПИСОК ЛИТЕРАТУРЫ

1. Абрамкина Т. А. Обучение произношению и технике чте­ния на английском языке. — М, 1972.

2. Антипова Е. Я., Каневская С. Л., Пигулевская К. А. Пособие по английской интонации. — Л.: Просвещение, -1974.

3. Ваулина Ю. Е., Фрейдлина Е. Л. Английский язык для сту­дентов факультетов дошкольного воспитания. — М.: Просвеще­ние, 1994.

4. Лебединская Б. Я. Фонетический практикум по английско­му языку. — М., 1978.

5. Практическая фонетика английского языка / Под ред. М. А. Соколовой. — М„ 1997.

6. Allen W. S. Living English Speech. — L., 1957.

7. Arakin V. D., etc. Practical Course of English. — M, 1998.

8. Ann Baker. Ship or Sheep. — Cambridge, 1992.

9. O'Connor J. D., Arnold G. F. Intonation of Colloquial English.

10. O'Connor J. D., Fletcher С Sounds English. — Essex, 1989.

11. Kingdom R. English Intonation Practice. — L, 1960.

12. John L. M. Trim. English Pronunciation Illustrated. — Cam­bridge, 1955.

13. Mimi Ponson. How Now, Brown Cow? — Oxford: Pergamon Press, 1983.

Дата добавления: 2015-05-31