To drift with every passion till my soul

伴随每一次激情而漂流，直到

Is a stringed lute on which all winds can play,

我的灵魂变作竖琴任每阵清风抚弄，

Is it for this that I have given away

莫非因为这个，我不得不放弃

Mine ancient wisdom, and austere control?

我古老的智慧和严苛的节制？

Methinks my life is a twice-written scroll

我想我的生命是二度书写的卷轴，

Scrawled over on some boyish holiday

在稚气的假日里被潦草地涂抹，

With idle songs for pipe and virelay,

为笛管和古风写就慵懒的歌曲，

Which do but mar the secret of the whole.

只是它毁弃了整个生活的秘密。

Surely there was a time I might have trod

确实有过一段时光，我走过

The sunlit heights, and from life’s dissonance

阳光普照的峰顶，而生命的不和谐音

Struck one clear chord to reach the ears of God:

清晰地撞击琴弦，直抵上帝耳畔：

Is that time dead? lo! with a little rod

莫非那时光已死？噢！我只是

I did but touch the honey of romance—

用一根嫩枝蘸取了浪漫传奇的蜂蜜——

And must I lose a soul’s inheritance?

我就必须丧失一个灵魂的遗产？