William Collins - Ode Written in MDCCXLVI 汉译

How sleep the Brave who sink to rest

By all their Country’s wishes blest!

When Spring, with dewy fingers cold,

Returns to deck their hallow’d mould,

She there shall dress a sweeter sod

Than Fancy’s feet have ever trod.

By fairy hands their knell is rung,

By forms unseen their dirge is sung:

There Honour comes, a pilgrim grey,

To bless the turf that wraps their clay;

And Freedom shall awhile repair

To dwell, a weeping hermit, there!

写于1746年的颂诗

威廉·柯林斯

受到全国祝福的勇士们

如今在地下睡得可真沉！

当春天带露的冷冷手指

又来把他们的圣地装饰；

她打点过的墓上那草皮

比想象之脚踏过处甜蜜。

丧钟有仙女为他们敲响，

哀歌由缥缈的形象为唱：

荣誉这朝圣老人来这里，

祝福那盖着他们的草地；

而自由之神也会去小住——

在那里他像个隐士痛哭！