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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 zephyr wanders through the grove, 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 scatter 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 animation beam'd; 如今可怖的死神已将她攫去， The King of Terrors seized her as his prey, 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 dread 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 muse her virtues would relate. 为何要悲恸?她无匹的灵魂高翔， | 
