晚风沉寂了，暮色悄然无声，

Hush'd are the winds, and still the evening gloom,

林间不曾有一缕微飔吹度；

Not e'en a zephyr¹ wanders through the grove²,

我归来祭扫玛格丽特的坟茔，

Whilst I return, to view my Margaret's tomb,

把鲜花撒向我所挚爱的尘土。

And scatter³ flowers on the dust I love.

这狭小墓穴里偃卧着她的身躯，

Within this narrow cell reclines her clay,

想当年芳华乍吐，闪射光焰；

That clay, where once such animation⁴ beam'd;

如今可怖的死神已将她攫去，

The King of Terrors seized her as his prey⁵,

美德和丽质也未能赎返天年。

Not worth, nor beauty, have her life redeem'd.

哦！只要死神懂一点仁慈，

Oh! could that King of Terrors pity feel,

只要上苍能撤销命运的裁决！

Or Heaven reverse the dread⁶ decrees of fate!

吊客就无需来这儿诉他的悲思，

Not here the mourner would his grief reveal,

诗人也无需来这儿赞她的莹洁。

Not here the muse⁷ her virtues⁸ would relate.

为何要悲恸？她无匹的灵魂高翔，

But wherefore weep? Her matchless spirit soars

凌越于红日赫赫流辉的碧落；

Beyond where splendid shines the orb⁹ of day;

垂泪的天使领她到天国闺房，

And weeping angels lead her to those bowers¹⁰

那儿，善行换来了无尽的欢乐。

Where endless pleasures virtue's deeds repay.

可容许放肆的凡夫问罪上苍，

And shall presumptuous¹¹ mortals Heaven arraign¹²,

如痴似狂地斥责神圣的天意？

And, madly, godlike Providence¹³ accuse?

不！这愚妄意图已离我远飏，——

Ah! no, far fly from me attempts so vain;—

我岂能拒不顺从我们的上帝！

I'll ne'er submission¹⁴ to my God refuse.

但对她美德的怀想是这样亲切，

Yet is remembrance of those virtues dear,

但对她娇容的记忆是这样新鲜；

Yet fresh the memory of that beauteous face;

它们依旧汲引我深情的泪液，

Still they call forth¹⁵ my warm affection's tear,

依旧盘桓在它们惯住的心田。

Still in my heart retain their wonted place.