I would I were a careless child, Still dwelling in my Highland cave, Or roaming through the dusky wild, Or bounding o’er the dark blue wave; The cumbrous pomp of Saxon pride Accords not with the freeborn soul, Which loves the mountain’s craggy side, And seeks the rocks where billows roll.
Fortune! take back these cultured lands, Take back this name of splendid sound! I hate the touch of servile hands, I hate the slaves that cringe around. Place me among the rocks I love, Which sound to Ocean’s wildest roar; I ask but this – again to rove Through scenes my youth hath known before. Few are my years, and yet I feel The world was ne’er designed for me: Ah! why do dark’ning shades conceal The hour when man must cease to be? Once I beheld a splendid dream, A visionary scene of bliss: Truth! – wherefore did thy hated beam Awake me to a world like this?
I loves – but those I love are gone; Had friends – my early friends are fled: How cheerless feels the heart alone, When all its former hopes are dead! Though gay companions o’er the bowl Dispel awhile the sense of ill’ Though pleasure stirs the maddening soul, The heart – the heart – is lonely still.
How dull! to hear the voice of those Whom rank or chance, whom wealth or power, Have made, though neither friends nor foes, Associates of the festive hour. Give me again a faithful few, In years and feelings still the same, And I will fly the midnight crew, Where boist’rous joy is but a name.
And woman, lovely woman! thou, My hope, my comforter, my all! How cold must be my bosom now, When e’en thy smiles begin to pall! Without a sigh would I resign This busy scene of splendid woe, To make that calm contentment mine, Which virtue know, or seems to know.
Fain would I fly the haunts of men – I seek to shun, not hate mankind; My breast requires the sullen glen, Whose gloom may suit a darken’d mind. Oh! that to me the wings were given Which bear the turtle to her nest! Then would I cleave the vault of heaven, To flee away, and be at rest.
昨天下班以后带爱美丽去宠物店给猫猫买点玩具。
然后爱美丽说肚子饿了，正好对面有个小饭店。
快吃完准备结账的时候，突然一下子店没有电了。
店经理出来打招呼，说整个mall不知道为什么都停电了，让大家耐心等待。
黑黢黢的店堂里，我和爱美丽坐在角落里，倒成了我们难得的母女相处时光。她一边吃着薯条，一边告诉我自己最近做的梦，我很佩服她居然还都记得。其他我都想不起来还说了啥，反正就是天马行空地乱聊，以爱美丽这个年纪还肯跟我聊天，我真是受宠若惊，必须打点十二分精神伺候着。
后来电也没来，让我们把信用卡信息留下。我真的觉得他们就应该免单。
写完信用卡号码出来，看到服务员就随手把那张纸放在桌上，我都觉得有点惴惴不安，怕被别人拿去盗用，。今天早上看了好几次网上银行，呵呵。
爱美丽就很天真，说我paranoid，没人会拿我的信用卡信息。老迈马上说you never know。我们都经历过信用卡被盗的事情。只有爱美丽的人生还是纯洁无暇，没有见过人生黑暗的一面。
可惜，总有一天，她也会看到。希望她不要太难过，呵呵。
想起王菲的那首歌
但願你的眼睛只看得到笑容但願你流下每一滴淚都讓人感動
但願你以後每一個夢不會一場空 天上人間 如果真值得歌頌
也是因為有你才會變得鬧哄哄
天大地大 世界比你想像中朦朧
我不忍心再欺哄 但願你聽得懂
更多我的博客文章>>>
但愿你的眼睛，只看得到笑容 继续和教练聊血糖，空腹血糖重要还是餐后血糖重要 爱美丽的potion store 波加查终于露出峥嵘 妈妈的菜多么美好的母女时光。很理解你的心情，我也曾经过这样的阶段，但其实她现在眼里也能看到坏人坏事其实是好事，为了保护她以后。
I would I were a careless child,
Still dwelling in my Highland cave,
Or roaming through the dusky wild,
Or bounding o’er the dark blue wave;
The cumbrous pomp of Saxon pride
Accords not with the freeborn soul,
Which loves the mountain’s craggy side,
And seeks the rocks where billows roll.
Fortune! take back these cultured lands,
Take back this name of splendid sound!
I hate the touch of servile hands,
I hate the slaves that cringe around.
Place me among the rocks I love,
Which sound to Ocean’s wildest roar;
I ask but this – again to rove
Through scenes my youth hath known before.
Few are my years, and yet I feel
The world was ne’er designed for me:
Ah! why do dark’ning shades conceal
The hour when man must cease to be?
Once I beheld a splendid dream,
A visionary scene of bliss:
Truth! – wherefore did thy hated beam
Awake me to a world like this?
I loves – but those I love are gone;
Had friends – my early friends are fled:
How cheerless feels the heart alone,
When all its former hopes are dead!
Though gay companions o’er the bowl
Dispel awhile the sense of ill’
Though pleasure stirs the maddening soul,
The heart – the heart – is lonely still.
How dull! to hear the voice of those
Whom rank or chance, whom wealth or power,
Have made, though neither friends nor foes,
Associates of the festive hour.
Give me again a faithful few,
In years and feelings still the same,
And I will fly the midnight crew,
Where boist’rous joy is but a name.
And woman, lovely woman! thou,
My hope, my comforter, my all!
How cold must be my bosom now,
When e’en thy smiles begin to pall!
Without a sigh would I resign
This busy scene of splendid woe,
To make that calm contentment mine,
Which virtue know, or seems to know.
Fain would I fly the haunts of men –
I seek to shun, not hate mankind;
My breast requires the sullen glen,
Whose gloom may suit a darken’d mind.
Oh! that to me the wings were given
Which bear the turtle to her nest!
Then would I cleave the vault of heaven,
To flee away, and be at rest.