英語詩歌是英語語言與文學(xué)的精華。開展英語詩歌教學(xué)能提高學(xué)生英語語言基礎(chǔ)知識水平、寫作水平,有助于學(xué)生西方歷史文化的學(xué)習(xí),提高學(xué)生的想象力,也有助于對學(xué)生的道德教育。下面是學(xué)習(xí)啦小編帶來的最優(yōu)美的英文詩歌欣賞，歡迎閱讀!

　　最優(yōu)美的英文詩歌欣賞篇一

　　Remonstrance with the Snails

　　Anon

　　Ye little snails,

　　With slippery tails,

　　Who noiselessly travel

　　Along this gravel,

　　By a silvery path of slime unsightly,

　　I learn that you visit my pea-rows nightly.

　　Felonious your visit, I guess!

　　And I give you this warning,

　　That, every morning,

　　I'll strictly examine the pods;

　　And if one I hit on,

　　With slaver or spit on,

　　Your next meal will be with the gods.

　　I own you're a very ancient race,

　　And Greece and Babylon were amid;

　　You have tenanted many a royal dome,

　　And dwelt in the oldest pyramid;

　　The source of the Nile! - O, you have been there!

　　In the ark was your floodless bed;

　　On the moonless night of Marathon

　　You crawled o'er the mighty dead;

　　But still, though I reverence your ancestries,

　　I don't see why you should nibble my peas.

　　The meadows are yours, - the hedgerow and brook,

　　You may bathe in their dews at morn;

　　By the aged sea you may sound your shells,

　　On the mountains erect your horn;

　　The fruits and the flowers are your rightful dowers,

　　Then why - in the name of wonder -

　　Should my six pea-rows be the only cause

　　To excite your midnight plunder!

　　I have never disturbed your slender shells;

　　You have hung round my aged walk;

　　And each might have sat, till he died in his fat,

　　Beneath his own cabbage-stalk:

　　But now you must fly from the soil of your sires;

　　Then put on your liveliest crawl,

　　And think of your poor little snails at home,

　　Now orphans or emigrants all.

　　Utensils domestic and civil and social

　　I give you an evening to pack up;

　　But if the moon of this night does not rise

　　on your flight,

　　Tomorrow I'll hang each man Jack up.

　　You'll think of my peas and your thievish tricks,

　　With tears of slime, when crossing the Styx.

　　最優(yōu)美的英文詩歌欣賞篇二

　　To Daffodils

　　Robert Herrick (1591-1674)

　　Fair Daffodils, we weep to see

　　You haste away so soon:

　　As yet the early-rising Sun

　　Has not attained his Noon.

　　Stay, stay,

　　Until the hasting day

　　Has run

　　But to the Even-song;

　　And, having prayed together, we

　　Will go with you along.

　　We have short time to stay, as you,

　　We have as short a Spring;

　　As quick a growth to meet Decay,

　　As you, or any thing.

　　We die,

　　As your hours do, and dry

　　Away,

　　Like to the Summer's rain;

　　Or as the pearls of Morning's dew

　　Ne'er to be found again.

　　最優(yōu)美的英文詩歌欣賞篇三

　　The Trees Are Down

　　Charlotte Mew (1869 - 1928)

　　They are cutting down the great plane-trees at the end of the gardens.

　　For days there has been the grate of the saw, the swish of the branches as they fall, The crash of the trunks, the rustle of trodden leaves,

　　With the 'Whoops' and the 'Whoas', the loud common talk, the loud common laughs of the men, above it all.

　　I remember one evening of a long past Spring Turning in at a gate, getting out of a cart, and finding a large dead rat in the mud of the drive.

　　I remember thinking: alive or dead, a rat was a god-forsaken thing, But at least, in May, that even a rat should be alive.

　　The week's work here is as good as done. There is just one bough On the roped bole, in the fine rain, Green and high And lonely against the sky.

　　(Down now!-) and but for that, If an old dead rat Did once, for a moment, unmake the Spring. I might never have thought of him again.

　　It is not for a moment the Spring is unmade to-day;

　　These were great trees, it was in them from root to stem:

　　When the men with the 'Whoops' and the 'Whoas' have carted the whole of the whispering loveliness away Half the Spring, for me, will have gone with them.

　　It is going now, and my heart has been struck with the hearts of the planes;

　　Half my life it has beat with these, in the sun, in the rains, In the March wind, the May breeze, In the great gales that came over to them across the roofs from the great seas.

　　There was only a quiet rain when they were dying;

　　They must have heard the sparrows flying, And the small creeping creatures in the earth where they were lying - But I, all day, I heard an angel crying:

　　'Hurt not the trees'.

　　
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