章节正文
Underwoods
by Robert Louis Stevenson
Of all my verse, like not a single line;
But like my title, for it is not mine.
That title from a better man I stole:
Ah, how much better, had I stol'n the whole!
DEDICATION
THERE are men and classes of men that stand above the
common herd: the soldier, the sailor and the shepherd not
unfrequently; the artist rarely; rarely still, the clergyman;
the physician almost as a rule. He is the flower (such as it
is) of our civilisation; and when that stage of man is done
with, and only remembered to be marvelled at in history, he
will be thought to have shared as little as any in the defects
of the period, and most notably exhibited the virtues of the
race. Generosity he has, such as is possible to those who
practise an art, never to those who drive a trade; discretion,
tested by a hundred secrets; tact, tried in a thousand
embarrassments; and what are more important, Heraclean
cheerfulness and courage. So it is that he brings air and
cheer into the sickroom, and often enough, though not so often
as he wishes, brings healing.
Gratitude is but a lame sentiment; thanks, when they are
expressed, are often more embarrassing than welcome; and yet I
must set forth mine to a few out of many doctors who have
brought me comfort and help: to Dr. Willey of San Francisco,
whose kindness to a stranger it must be as grateful to him, as
it is touching to me, to remember; to Dr. Karl Ruedi of Davos,
the good genius of the English in his frosty mountains; to Dr.
Herbert of Paris, whom I knew only for a week, and to Dr.
Caissot of Montpellier, whom I knew only for ten days, and who
have yet written their names deeply in my memory; to Dr.
Brandt of Royat; to Dr. Wakefield of Nice; to Dr. Chepmell,
whose visits make it a pleasure to be ill; to Dr. Horace
Dobell, so wise in counsel; to Sir Andrew Clark, so unwearied
in kindness and to that wise youth, my uncle, Dr. Balfour.
I forget as many as I remember; and I ask both to pardon
me, these for silence, those for inadequate speech. But one
name I have kept on purpose to the last, because it is a
household word with me, and because if I had not received
favours from so many hands and in so many quarters of the
world, it should have stood upon this page alone: that of my
friend Thomas Bodley Scott of Bournemouth. Will he accept
this, although shared among so many, for a dedication to
himself? and when next my ill-fortune (which has thus its
pleasant side) brings him hurrying to me when he would fain
sit down to meat or lie down to rest, will he care to remember
that he takes this trouble for one who is not fool enough to
be ungrateful?
R. L. S.
SKERRYVORE,
BOURNEMOUTH.
NOTE
THE human conscience has fled of late the troublesome
domain of conduct for what I should have supposed to be the
less congenial field of art: there she may now be said to
rage, and with special severity in all that touches dialect;
so that in every novel the letters of the alphabet are
tortured, and the reader wearied, to commemorate shades of
mis-pronunciation. Now spelling is an art of great difficulty
in my eyes, and I am inclined to lean upon the printer, even
in common practice, rather than to ventureabroad upon new
quests. And the Scots tongue has an orthography of its own,
lacking neither "authority nor author." Yet the temptation is
great to lend a little guidance to the bewildered Englishman.
Some simple phonetic artifice might defend your verses from
barbarous mishandling, and yet not injure any vested interest.
So it seems at first; but there are rocks ahead. Thus, if I
wish the diphthong OU to have its proper value, I may write
OOR instead of OUR; many have done so and lived, and the
pillars of the universe remained unshaken. But if I did so,
and came presently to DOUN, which is the classical Scots
spelling of the English DOWN, I should begin to feel uneasy;
and if I went on a little farther, and came to a classical
Scots word, like STOUR or DOUR or CLOUR, I should know
precisely where I was - that is to say, that I was out of
sight of land on those high seas of spellingreform in which
so many strong swimmers have toiled vainly. To some the
situation is exhilarating; as for me, I give one bubbling cry
and sink. The compromise at which I have arrived is
indefensible, and I have no thought of trying to defend it.
As I have stuck for the most part to the proper spelling, I
append a table of some common vowel sounds which no one need
consult; and just to prove that I belong to my age and have in
me the stuff of a reformer, I have used modification marks
throughout. Thus I can tell myself, not without pride, that I
have added a fresh stumbling-block for English readers, and to
a page of print in my native tongue, have lent a new
uncouthness. SED NON NOBIS.
I note again, that among our new dialecticians, the local
habitat of every dialect is given to the square mile. I could
not emulate this nicety if I desired; for I simply wrote my
Scots as well as I was able, not caring if it hailed from
Lauderdale or Angus, from the Mearns or Galloway; if I had
ever heard a good word, I used it without shame; and when
Scots was lacking, or the rhyme jibbed, I was glad (like my
betters) to fall back on English. For all that, I own to a
friendly feeling for the tongue of Fergusson and of Sir
Walter, both Edinburgh men; and I confess that Burns has
always sounded in my ear like something partly foreign. And
indeed I am from the Lothians myself; it is there I heard the
language spoken about my childhood; and it is in the drawling
Lothian voice that I repeat it to myself. Let the precisians
call my speech that of the Lothians. And if it be not pure,
alas! what matters it? The day draws near when this
illustrious and malleable tongue shall be quite forgotten; and
Burn's Ayrshire, and Dr. Macdonald's Aberdeen-awa', and
Scott's brave, metropolitanutterance will be all equally the
ghosts of speech. Till then I would love to have my hour as a
native Maker, and be read by my own countryfolk in our own
dying language: an ambition surely rather of the heart than of
the head, so restricted as it is in prospect of endurance, so
parochial in bounds of space.
BOOK I. In English
I - ENVOY
Go, little book, and wish to all
Flowers in the garden, meat in the hall,
A bin of wine, a spice of wit,
A house with lawns enclosing it,
A living river by the door,
A nightingale in the sycamore!
II - A SONG OF THE ROAD
The gauger walked with willing foot,
And aye the gauger played the flute;
And what should Master Gauger play
But OVER THE HILLS AND FAR AWAY?
Whene'er I buckle on my pack
And foot it gaily in the track,
O pleasant gauger, long since dead,
I hear you fluting on ahead.
You go with me the self-same way -
The self-same air for me you play;
For I do think and so do you
It is the tune to travel to.
For who would gravely set his face
To go to this or t'other place?
There's nothing under Heav'n so blue
That's fairly worth the travelling to.
On every hand the roads begin,
And people walk with zeal therein;
But wheresoe'er the highways tend,
Be sure there's nothing at the end.
Then follow you, wherever hie
The travelling mountains of the sky.
Or let the streams in civil mode
Direct your choice upon a road;
For one and all, or high or low,
Will lead you where you wish to go;
And one and all go night and day
OVER THE HILLS AND FAR AWAY!
Forest of Montargis, 1878
III - THE CANOE SPEAKS
On the great streams the ships may go
About men's business to and fro.
But I, the egg-shell pinnace, sleep
On crystal waters ankle-deep:
I, whose diminutive design,
Of sweeter cedar, pithier pine,
Is fashioned on so frail a mould,
A hand may launch, a hand withhold:
I, rather, with the leaping trout
Wind, among lilies, in and out;
I, the unnamed, inviolate,
Green, rustic rivers, navigate;
My dipping paddle scarcely shakes
The berry in the bramble-brakes;
Still forth on my green way I wend
Beside the cottage garden-end;
And by the nested angler fare,
And take the lovers unaware.
By willow wood and water-wheel
Speedily fleets my touching keel;
By all retired and shady spots
Where prosper dim forget-me-nots;
By meadows where at afternoon
The growing maidens troop in June
To loose their girdles on the grass.
Ah! speedier than before the glass
The backwardtoilet goes; and swift
As swallows quiver, robe and shift
And the rough country stockings lie
Around each young divinity.
When, following the recondite brook,
Sudden upon this scene I look,
And light with unfamiliar face
On chaste Diana's bathing-place,
Loud ring the hills about and all
The shallows are abandoned. . . .
IV
It is the season now to go
About the country high and low,
Among the lilacs hand in hand,
And two by two in fairy land.
The brooding boy, the sighing maid,
Wholly fain and half afraid,
Now meet along the hazel'd brook
To pass and linger, pause and look.
A year ago, and blithely paired,
Their rough-and-tumble play they shared;
They kissed and quarrelled, laughed and cried,
A year ago at Eastertide.
by Robert Louis Stevenson
Of all my verse, like not a single line;
But like my title, for it is not mine.
That title from a better man I stole:
Ah, how much better, had I stol'n the whole!
DEDICATION
THERE are men and classes of men that stand above the
common herd: the soldier, the sailor and the shepherd not
unfrequently; the artist rarely; rarely still, the clergyman;
the physician almost as a rule. He is the flower (such as it
is) of our civilisation; and when that stage of man is done
with, and only remembered to be marvelled at in history, he
will be thought to have shared as little as any in the defects
of the period, and most notably exhibited the virtues of the
race. Generosity he has, such as is possible to those who
practise an art, never to those who drive a trade; discretion,
tested by a hundred secrets; tact, tried in a thousand
embarrassments; and what are more important, Heraclean
cheerfulness and courage. So it is that he brings air and
cheer into the sickroom, and often enough, though not so often
as he wishes, brings healing.
Gratitude is but a lame sentiment; thanks, when they are
expressed, are often more embarrassing than welcome; and yet I
must set forth mine to a few out of many doctors who have
brought me comfort and help: to Dr. Willey of San Francisco,
whose kindness to a stranger it must be as grateful to him, as
it is touching to me, to remember; to Dr. Karl Ruedi of Davos,
the good genius of the English in his frosty mountains; to Dr.
Herbert of Paris, whom I knew only for a week, and to Dr.
Caissot of Montpellier, whom I knew only for ten days, and who
have yet written their names deeply in my memory; to Dr.
Brandt of Royat; to Dr. Wakefield of Nice; to Dr. Chepmell,
whose visits make it a pleasure to be ill; to Dr. Horace
Dobell, so wise in counsel; to Sir Andrew Clark, so unwearied
in kindness and to that wise youth, my uncle, Dr. Balfour.
I forget as many as I remember; and I ask both to pardon
me, these for silence, those for inadequate speech. But one
name I have kept on purpose to the last, because it is a
household word with me, and because if I had not received
favours from so many hands and in so many quarters of the
world, it should have stood upon this page alone: that of my
friend Thomas Bodley Scott of Bournemouth. Will he accept
this, although shared among so many, for a dedication to
himself? and when next my ill-fortune (which has thus its
pleasant side) brings him hurrying to me when he would fain
sit down to meat or lie down to rest, will he care to remember
that he takes this trouble for one who is not fool enough to
be ungrateful?
R. L. S.
SKERRYVORE,
BOURNEMOUTH.
NOTE
THE human conscience has fled of late the troublesome
domain of conduct for what I should have supposed to be the
less congenial field of art: there she may now be said to
rage, and with special severity in all that touches dialect;
so that in every novel the letters of the alphabet are
tortured, and the reader wearied, to commemorate shades of
mis-pronunciation. Now spelling is an art of great difficulty
in my eyes, and I am inclined to lean upon the printer, even
in common practice, rather than to ventureabroad upon new
quests. And the Scots tongue has an orthography of its own,
lacking neither "authority nor author." Yet the temptation is
great to lend a little guidance to the bewildered Englishman.
Some simple phonetic artifice might defend your verses from
barbarous mishandling, and yet not injure any vested interest.
So it seems at first; but there are rocks ahead. Thus, if I
wish the diphthong OU to have its proper value, I may write
OOR instead of OUR; many have done so and lived, and the
pillars of the universe remained unshaken. But if I did so,
and came presently to DOUN, which is the classical Scots
spelling of the English DOWN, I should begin to feel uneasy;
and if I went on a little farther, and came to a classical
Scots word, like STOUR or DOUR or CLOUR, I should know
precisely where I was - that is to say, that I was out of
sight of land on those high seas of spellingreform in which
so many strong swimmers have toiled vainly. To some the
situation is exhilarating; as for me, I give one bubbling cry
and sink. The compromise at which I have arrived is
indefensible, and I have no thought of trying to defend it.
As I have stuck for the most part to the proper spelling, I
append a table of some common vowel sounds which no one need
consult; and just to prove that I belong to my age and have in
me the stuff of a reformer, I have used modification marks
throughout. Thus I can tell myself, not without pride, that I
have added a fresh stumbling-block for English readers, and to
a page of print in my native tongue, have lent a new
uncouthness. SED NON NOBIS.
I note again, that among our new dialecticians, the local
habitat of every dialect is given to the square mile. I could
not emulate this nicety if I desired; for I simply wrote my
Scots as well as I was able, not caring if it hailed from
Lauderdale or Angus, from the Mearns or Galloway; if I had
ever heard a good word, I used it without shame; and when
Scots was lacking, or the rhyme jibbed, I was glad (like my
betters) to fall back on English. For all that, I own to a
friendly feeling for the tongue of Fergusson and of Sir
Walter, both Edinburgh men; and I confess that Burns has
always sounded in my ear like something partly foreign. And
indeed I am from the Lothians myself; it is there I heard the
language spoken about my childhood; and it is in the drawling
Lothian voice that I repeat it to myself. Let the precisians
call my speech that of the Lothians. And if it be not pure,
alas! what matters it? The day draws near when this
illustrious and malleable tongue shall be quite forgotten; and
Burn's Ayrshire, and Dr. Macdonald's Aberdeen-awa', and
Scott's brave, metropolitanutterance will be all equally the
ghosts of speech. Till then I would love to have my hour as a
native Maker, and be read by my own countryfolk in our own
dying language: an ambition surely rather of the heart than of
the head, so restricted as it is in prospect of endurance, so
parochial in bounds of space.
BOOK I. In English
I - ENVOY
Go, little book, and wish to all
Flowers in the garden, meat in the hall,
A bin of wine, a spice of wit,
A house with lawns enclosing it,
A living river by the door,
A nightingale in the sycamore!
II - A SONG OF THE ROAD
The gauger walked with willing foot,
And aye the gauger played the flute;
And what should Master Gauger play
But OVER THE HILLS AND FAR AWAY?
Whene'er I buckle on my pack
And foot it gaily in the track,
O pleasant gauger, long since dead,
I hear you fluting on ahead.
You go with me the self-same way -
The self-same air for me you play;
For I do think and so do you
It is the tune to travel to.
For who would gravely set his face
To go to this or t'other place?
There's nothing under Heav'n so blue
That's fairly worth the travelling to.
On every hand the roads begin,
And people walk with zeal therein;
But wheresoe'er the highways tend,
Be sure there's nothing at the end.
Then follow you, wherever hie
The travelling mountains of the sky.
Or let the streams in civil mode
Direct your choice upon a road;
For one and all, or high or low,
Will lead you where you wish to go;
And one and all go night and day
OVER THE HILLS AND FAR AWAY!
Forest of Montargis, 1878
III - THE CANOE SPEAKS
On the great streams the ships may go
About men's business to and fro.
But I, the egg-shell pinnace, sleep
On crystal waters ankle-deep:
I, whose diminutive design,
Of sweeter cedar, pithier pine,
Is fashioned on so frail a mould,
A hand may launch, a hand withhold:
I, rather, with the leaping trout
Wind, among lilies, in and out;
I, the unnamed, inviolate,
Green, rustic rivers, navigate;
My dipping paddle scarcely shakes
The berry in the bramble-brakes;
Still forth on my green way I wend
Beside the cottage garden-end;
And by the nested angler fare,
And take the lovers unaware.
By willow wood and water-wheel
Speedily fleets my touching keel;
By all retired and shady spots
Where prosper dim forget-me-nots;
By meadows where at afternoon
The growing maidens troop in June
To loose their girdles on the grass.
Ah! speedier than before the glass
The backwardtoilet goes; and swift
As swallows quiver, robe and shift
And the rough country stockings lie
Around each young divinity.
When, following the recondite brook,
Sudden upon this scene I look,
And light with unfamiliar face
On chaste Diana's bathing-place,
Loud ring the hills about and all
The shallows are abandoned. . . .
IV
It is the season now to go
About the country high and low,
Among the lilacs hand in hand,
And two by two in fairy land.
The brooding boy, the sighing maid,
Wholly fain and half afraid,
Now meet along the hazel'd brook
To pass and linger, pause and look.
A year ago, and blithely paired,
Their rough-and-tumble play they shared;
They kissed and quarrelled, laughed and cried,
A year ago at Eastertide.
- shepherd [´ʃepəd]
n.牧羊人 vt.带领 (初中英语单词) - rarely [´reəli] ad.难得；非凡地 (初中英语单词)
- physician [fi´ziʃən] n.(内科)医生 (初中英语单词)
- sentiment [´sentimənt] n.情绪；多愁善感 (初中英语单词)
- welcome [´welkəm] a.受欢迎的；可喜的 (初中英语单词)
- grateful [´greitful] a.感谢的；令人愉快的 (初中英语单词)
- genius [´dʒi:niəs] n.天才(人物)；天赋 (初中英语单词)
- counsel [´kaunsəl] n.商议；劝告；律师 (初中英语单词)
- conscience [´kɔnʃəns] n.良心；道德心 (初中英语单词)
- supposed [sə´pəuzd] a.想象的；假定的 (初中英语单词)
- alphabet [´ælfəbet] n.字母表 (初中英语单词)
- spelling [´speliŋ] n.拼法；缀字 (初中英语单词)
- venture [´ventʃə] n.投机 v.冒险；敢于 (初中英语单词)
- abroad [ə´brɔ:d] ad.海外；到处；广泛 (初中英语单词)
- injure [´indʒə] vt.伤害，损害，毁坏 (初中英语单词)
- presently [´prezəntli] ad.不久；目前 (初中英语单词)
- reform [ri´fɔ:m] v.&n.改革；改良；革除 (初中英语单词)
- dialect [´daiəlekt] n.方言，土语，地方话 (初中英语单词)
- confess [kən´fes] vt.供认；坦白；承认 (初中英语单词)
- partly [´pɑ:tli] ad.部分地；不完全地 (初中英语单词)
- spoken [´spəukən] speak的过去分词 (初中英语单词)
- childhood [´tʃaildhud] n.幼年(时代)；早期 (初中英语单词)
- equally [´i:kwəli] ad.相等地；平等地 (初中英语单词)
- ambition [æm´biʃən] n.雄心，野心；企图 (初中英语单词)
- prospect [´prɔspekt, prəs´pekt] n.景色；境界 v.勘察 (初中英语单词)
- willing [´wiliŋ] a.情愿的，乐意的 (初中英语单词)
- gravely [´greivli] ad.庄重地，严肃地 (初中英语单词)
- wherever [weər´evə] conj.无论在哪里 (初中英语单词)
- crystal [´kristəl] n.水晶 a.水晶的 (初中英语单词)
- cottage [´kɔtidʒ] n.村舍；小屋；小别墅 (初中英语单词)
- willow [´wiləu] n.柳树 (初中英语单词)
- backward [´bækwəd] ad.向后 a.向后的 (初中英语单词)
- quiver [´kwivə] v.抖动 n.颤动(声) (初中英语单词)
- linger [´liŋgə] v.逗留；留恋；拖延 (初中英语单词)
- generosity [,dʒenə´rɔsiti] n.慷慨；慷慨的行为 (高中英语单词)
- temptation [temp´teiʃən] n.引诱，诱惑(物) (高中英语单词)
- universe [´ju:nivə:s] n.天地；全人类；银河系 (高中英语单词)
- vainly [´veinli] ad.虚荣地；自负地 (高中英语单词)
- compromise [´kɔmprəmaiz] n.妥协，和解 (高中英语单词)
- endurance [in´djuərəns] n.忍受(耐)；耐力 (高中英语单词)
- launch [lɔ:ntʃ] vt.发动 n.发射；汽艇 (高中英语单词)
- rustic [´rʌstik] a.田野的；质朴的 (高中英语单词)
- paddle [´pædl] n.踏板 v.用浆划；划船 (高中英语单词)
- prosper [´prɔspə] v.(使...)繁荣(成功) (高中英语单词)
- toilet [´tɔilit] n.梳妆(台)；卫生间 (高中英语单词)
- touching [´tʌtʃiŋ] a.动人的 prep.提到 (英语四级单词)
- frosty [´frɔsti] a.霜冻的；冷淡的 (英语四级单词)
- congenial [kən´dʒi:niəl] a.意气相投的；合适的 (英语四级单词)
- severity [si´veriti] n.严厉；严重；苛刻 (英语四级单词)
- printer [´printə] n.印刷者；排字工人 (英语四级单词)
- guidance [´gaidəns] n.向导，指导，领导 (英语四级单词)
- classical [´klæsikəl] a.经典的；传统的 (英语四级单词)
- trying [´traiiŋ] a.难堪的；费劲的 (英语四级单词)
- modification [,mɔdifi´keiʃən] n.变更；修正；缓和 (英语四级单词)
- edinburgh [´edinbərə] n.爱丁堡 (英语四级单词)
- metropolitan [,metrə´pɔlitən] a.大城市的 n.大城市人 (英语四级单词)
- utterance [´ʌtərəns] n.发音；言辞；所说的话 (英语四级单词)
- nightingale [´naitiŋgeil] n.夜莺 (英语四级单词)
- buckle [´bʌkəl] n.带扣 v.(用...)扣住 (英语四级单词)
- chaste [tʃeist] a.贞洁的；高雅的 (英语四级单词)
- notably [´nəutəbli] ad.显著地；著名地 (英语六级单词)
- commemorate [kə´meməreit] vt.纪念 (英语六级单词)
- reformer [ri´fɔ:mə] n.改革者；革新者 (英语六级单词)
- lacking [´lækiŋ] a.缺少的，没有的 (英语六级单词)
- diminutive [di´minjutiv] a.非常小的；小型的 (英语六级单词)
- retired [ri´taiəd] a.退休的；通职的 (英语六级单词)
- unfamiliar [ʌnfə´miljə] a.不熟悉的；生疏的 (英语六级单词)
- abandoned [ə´bændənd] a.被抛弃的；无约束的 (英语六级单词)
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章节正文
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