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第42章

四季随笔-the private papers of henry ryecroft(英文版)-第42章


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le nunc; et olim sic erit。〃 Fallen on whatever evil days and evil tongues; he remembers that Englishman of old; who; under every menace; bore right onwards; and like him; if so it must be; can make it his duty and his service to stand and wait。
XXVI
Impatient for the light of spring; I have slept lately with my blind drawn up; so that at waking; I have the sky in view。 This morning; I awoke just before sunrise。 The air was still; a faint flush of rose to westward told me that the east made fair promise。 I could see no cloud; and there before me; dropping to the horizon; glistened the horned moon。
The promise held good。 After breakfast; I could not sit down by the fireside; indeed; a fire was scarce necessary; the sun drew me forth; and I walked all the morning about the moist lanes; delighting myself with the scent of earth。
On my way home; I saw the first celandine。
So; once more; the year has e full circle。 And how quickly; alas; how quickly! Can it be a whole twelvemonth since the last spring? Because I am so content with life; must life slip away; as though it grudged me my happiness? Time was when a year drew its slow length of toil and anxiety and ever frustrate waiting。 Further away; the year of childhood seemed endless。 It is familiarity with life that makes time speed quickly。 When every day is a step in the unknown; as for children; the days are long with gathering of experience; the week gone by is already far in retrospect of things learnt; and that to e; especially if it foretell some joy; lingers in remoteness。 Past mid…life; one learns little and expects little。 To…day is like unto yesterday; and to that which shall be the morrow。 Only torment of mind or body serves to delay the indistinguishable hours。 Enjoy the day; and; behold; it shrinks to a moment。
I could wish for many another year; yet; if I knew that not one more awaited me; I should not grumble。 When I was ill at ease in the world; it would have been hard to die; I had lived to no purpose; that I could discover; the end would have seemed abrupt and meaningless。 Now; my life is rounded; it began with the natural irreflective happiness of childhood; it will close in the reasoned tranquillity of the mature mind。 How many a time; after long labour on some piece of writing; brought at length to its conclusion; have I laid down the pen with a sigh of thankfulness; the work was full of faults; but I had wrought sincerely; had done what time and circumstance and my own nature permitted。 Even so may it be with me in my last hour。 May I look back on life as a long task duly pleted……a piece of biography; faulty enough; but good as I could make it……and; with no thought but one of contentment; wele the repose to follow when I have breathed the word 〃Finis。〃


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