Dead Poets Society《死亡诗社》典故整理原版英美美文.docVIP

1. Walt Whitman O Captain! My Captain! (Abraham Lincoln) O Me! O Life! O me! O life! of the questions of these recurring,Of the endless trains of the faithless, of cities filld with the foolish, Of myself forever reproaching myself, (for who more foolish than I,and who more faithless?)Of eyes that vainly crave the light, of the objects mean, of thestruggle ever renewd,Of the poor results of all, of the plodding and sordid crowds I seearound me,Of the empty and useless years of the rest, with the rest me intertwined,The question, O me! so sad, recurring--What good amid these, O me, O life? Answer.That you are here--that life exists and identity,That the powerful play goes on, and you may contribute a verse Song of Myself I sound my barbaric yawp / over the rooftops of the world\ A Song of Joys Oh, to struggle against great odds, to meet enemies undaunted. To be a sailor of the world bound for all ports. Oh, I live to be the ruler of life, not a slave. To mount the scaffolds. To advance to the muzzles of guns with perfect nonchalance. To dance, clap hands, exalt, shout, skip, roll on, float on! Oh, to have life henceforth, the poem of new joys To indeed be a god! 2. Robert Herrick To the Virgins to Make Much of Time Carpe diem : seize the day 3. Tennyson Show me the heart unfettered by foolish dreams, and I’ll show you a happy man. 4. But only in their dreams can men be truly free. Twas always thus, and always thus will be. Keating Tennyson 5. Henry David Thoreau The Dead Poets were dedicated to sucking the marrow out of life. An Excerpt from Walden I went to the woods because I wanted to live deliberately. I wanted to live deep and suck out all the marrow of life. To put to rout all that was not life. And not, when I had come to die, discover that I had not lived. Most men lead lives of quiet desperation. 6. Raymond Calvert The Ballad of William Bloat In a mean abode in the Shanking Road, lived a man named W