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Hush'd are the winds, and still the evening gloom,
晚风沉寂了，暮色悄然无声，
Not e'en a zephyr wanders through the grove,
林间不曾有一缕微飔吹度；
Whilst I return, to view my Margaret's tomb,
我归来祭扫玛格丽特的坟茔，
And scatter flowers on the dust I love.
把鲜花撒向我所挚爱的尘土。
Within this narrow cell reclines her clay,
这狭小墓穴里偃卧着她的身躯，
That clay, where once such animation beam'd;
想当年芳华乍吐，闪射光焰；
The King of Terrors seized her as his prey,
如今可怖的死神已将她攫去，
Not worth, nor beauty, have her life redeem'd.
美德和丽质也未能赎返天年。
Oh! could that King of Terrors pity feel,
哦！只要死神懂一点仁慈，
Or Heaven reverse the dread decrees of fate!
只要上苍能撤销命运的裁决！
Not here the mourner would his grief reveal,
吊客就无需来这儿诉他的悲思，
Not here the muse her virtues would relate.
诗人也无需来这儿赞她的莹洁。
But wherefore weep? Her matchless spirit soars
为何要悲恸？她无匹的灵魂高翔，
Beyond where splendid shines the orb of day;
凌越于红日赫赫流辉的碧落；
And weeping angels lead her to those bowers
垂泪的天使领她到天国闺房，
Where endless pleasures virtue's deeds repay.
那儿，善行换来了无尽的欢乐。
And shall presumptuous mortals Heaven arraign,
可容许放肆的凡夫问罪上苍，
And, madly, godlike Providence accuse?
如痴似狂地斥责神圣的天意？
Ah! no, far fly from me attempts so vain;—
不！这愚妄意图已离我远飏，——
I'll ne'er submission to my God refuse.
我岂能拒不顺从我们的上帝！
Yet is remembrance of those virtues dear,
但对她美德的怀想是这样亲切，
Yet fresh the memory of that beauteous face;
但对她娇容的记忆是这样新鲜；
Still they call forth my warm affection's tear,
它们依旧汲引我深情的泪液，
Still in my heart retain their wonted place.
依旧盘桓在它们惯住的心田。
