Ambrose Philips - To Charlotte Pulteney 汉译

Timely blossom, Infant fair,  <?xml:namespace prefix = o ns = "urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:office" />

Fondling of a happy pair, 

Every morn and every night 

Their solicitous delight, 

Sleeping, waking, still at ease,        

Pleasing, without skill to please; 

Little gossip, blithe and hale, 

Tattling many a broken tale, 

Singing many a tuneless song, 

Lavish of a heedless tongue;        

Simple maiden, void of art, 

Babbling out the very heart, 

Yet abandon’d to thy will, 

Yet imagining no ill, 

Yet too innocent to blush;        

Like the linnet in the bush 

To the mother-linnet’s note 

Moduling her slender throat; 

Chirping forth thy pretty joys, 

Wanton in the change of toys,        

Like the linnet green, in May 

Flitting to each bloomy spray; 

Wearied then and glad of rest, 

Like the linnet in the nest:--

This thy present happy lot,         

This, in time will be forgot: 

Other pleasures, other cares, 

Ever-busy Time prepares; 

And thou shalt in thy daughter see, 

This picture, once, resembled thee.