英语和汉语有六个小故事.doc

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We had a remarkable sunset one day last November.
I was walking in a meadow, the source of a small brook, when the sun, just before setting, after a cold gray day, reached a clear stratum in the horizon. The softest and brightest evening sunlight fell on the dry grass, on the branches of the trees on the opposite horizon, and on the leaves of the shrub oaks on the hillside, while our shadows stretched long over the meadow eastward, as if we were only motes in its beams. It was such a beautiful sight that we could not have imagined a moment before, and the air was so warm and serene that nothing was needed to make a paradise of that meadow.
The sun set on that retired meadow, where no house was visible, with all the glory and splendor that it lavished on cities, as it has never set before. There was only a solitary marsh-hawk having its wings gilded by the golden light. A hermit looked from his cabin, and a little black-veined brook meandered through the marsh. As we walked in that pure and brilliant light gilding the withered grass and leaves I thought I had never been bathed in such a golden flood, and never would