----William Wordsworth

　　The minstrels played their Christmas tune

　　To-night beneath my cottage-eaves;

　　While, smitten by a lofty moon,

　　The encircling laurels, thick with leaves,

　　Gave back a rich and dazzling sheen,

　　That overpowered their natural green.

　　吟游詩人哼著他們的圣誕節(jié)曲調(diào)，

　　今夜，在我的田舍小屋下。

　　此時，高聳的月亮給予他們靈感。

　　層層的月桂樹，覆蓋著葉子，

　　映射著飽滿眩目的光澤，

　　早已經(jīng)超越了他們原有的顏色。

　　Through hill and valley every breeze

　　Had sunk to rest with folded wings:

　　Keen was the air, but could not freeze,

　　Nor check, the music of the strings;

　　So stout and hardy were the band

　　That scraped the chords with strenuous hand.

　　穿過山谷的每一陣微風下沉收起翅膀：

　　風是那么鋒利，但永不冷漠，

　　也不核對，弦音聲聲：

　　一層層又如此的強烈剛強，

　　用熱烈的手摩擦著弦柱。

　　And who but listened?--till was paid

　　Respect to every inmate's claim,

　　The greeting given, the music played

　　In honour of each household name,

　　Duly pronounced with lusty call,

　　但是誰在聽?這個取決于同住的人的主張，

　　給個問候，做個音樂，為每個家里名字而自豪，

　　正式而顯著的強有力的呼叫，