颂诗译选
追逐
主啊！你造的人
是一个多么匆忙不安靜？
每天，每时他都在飞来飞去，
沒有片刻的安宁：
他失去了太阳和光
因为阴云突起；
他在暗夜也作生意，
借夜色的隐蔽；
你岂曾给这活跃的尘土
长久不休不罢，
浪子不厌倦离开荳荚
不曾想望回家；
那原是你的隐祕
也是你的怜悯，
当一切都无法使他得福，
然后这必定成就。
噢，主啊！那是何等的代价
使我们经过疾苦，健康时不肯对你接受？
The Pursuit
Lord! what a busy, restless thing
Hast thou made man?
Each day, and hour he is on wing,
Rests not a span;
Then having lost the Sun, and light
By clouds surprised;
He keeps a Commerce in the night
With air disguised；
Hadst thou given to this active dust
A state untired,
The lost Son had not left the husk
Nor home desired;
That was thy secret, and it is
Thy mercy too
For when all fails to bring to bliss,
Then, this must do.
Ah! Lord! and what a Purchase will that be
To take us sick, that sound would not take thee?
Henry Vaughan（1621-1695）
Welsh metaphysical poet