经典英文诗歌长篇

将英语诗歌引入英语课堂教学,对于提高教学效率与教学质量具有十分重要的意义,同时也有利于提高学生的综合素质。我精心收集了经典的英文诗歌，供大家欣赏学习!

Sparrow, the Special Delight of My Girl

by Gaius Valerius Catullus

Translated by David Mulroy

Sparrow， the special delight of my girl，

whom often she teases and holds on her lap

and pokes with the tip of her finger， provoking

counterattacks with your mordant beak，

whenever my luminous love desires

something or other， innocuous fun，

a bit of escape， I suppose， from her pain，

a moment of peace from her turbulent passion，

I wish I could play like she does with you

and lighten the cares of my sorrowful soul.

It thrills me as much as the nimble girl

in the story was thrilled by the gilded apple

that finally uncinched her virginal gown.

Speech Alone

by Jean Follain

Translated by W. S. Merwin

It happens that one pronounces

a few words just for oneself

alone on this strange earth

then the small white flower

the pebble like all those that went before

the sprig of stubble

find themselves re-united

at the foot of the gate

which one opens slowly

to enter the house of clay

while chairs， table， cupboard，

blaze in a sun of glory.

Speaking In Tongues

by Mary Rose O'Reilley

I go to church every Sunday

though I don‘t believe a word of it，

because the longing for God

is a prayer said in the bones.

When people call on Jesus

I move to a place in the body

where such words rise，

one of the valleys

where hope pins itself to desire;

we have so much landscape like that

you‘d think we were made

to sustain a cry.

When the old men around me

lift their hands

as though someone has cornered them，

giving it all away，

I remember a dock on the estuary，

watching a heron get airborne against the odds.

It‘s the transitional moment that baffles me—

how she composes her rickety

grocery cart of a body

to make that flight.

The pine siskin， stalled on a windy coast，

remembers the woods

she will long for when needs arise; so

the boreal forest composes itself in my mind：

first as a rift， absence，

then in a tumble of words

undone from sense， like the stutter

you hear when somebody falls over the cliff of language. Call it a gift.

Spellbound

by Emily Bront

The night is darkening round me，

The wild winds coldly blow;

But a tyrant spell has bound me

And I cannot， cannot go.

The giant trees are bending

Their bare boughs weighed with snow.

And the storm is fast descending，

And yet I cannot go.

Clouds beyond clouds above me，

Wastes beyond wastes below;

But nothing drear can move me;

I will not， cannot go.

Spirit

by Maggie Nelson

The spirit of Jane

lives on in you，

my mother says

trying to describe

who I am. I feel like the girl

in the late-night movie

who gazes up in horror

at the portrait of

her freaky ancestor

as she realizes

they wear the same

gaudy pendant

round their necks.

For as long as I can

remember， my grandfather

has made the same slip：

he sits in his kitchen，

his gelatinous blue eyes

fixed on me. Well Jane，

he says， I think I‘ll have another cup of coffee.