優(yōu)美的英語美文摘抄大全
經(jīng)典美文,經(jīng)得起時間的考驗,被歷史證明是最有價值、最重要的文化精髓,思想宏遠,構(gòu)思巧妙,語言精美。小編精心收集了優(yōu)美的英語美文，供大家欣賞學(xué)習(xí)!
優(yōu)美的英語美文篇一
Teachers are People
Today, more than ever before, education is playing an important role in the teaching of children. The school has become a vital part of every community, drawing children from every walk of life.
The children are eager to take advantage of its opportunities, emerging from their sheltered confines, dipping easily into the habits of the student. They are coming from far and near, struggling towards an education, whetting their appetites for knowledge, forming friendships for the future. Childish energy lets nothing stand in its way. In their tiny hands, they hold the future.
The person upon whose capable shoulders rests the responsibility for their education is that unsung hero, the teacher. He must be fair, honest, understanding, and intelligent. He must handle every situation with the utmost dignity. With a complete understanding of his pupils, the experienced teacher equips himself for the classroom. The students eagerly return to the classroom. Youthful minds are encouraged to develop their latent talents. Ah, yes, the creative outlets of the arts and the crafts. Tests and examinations fill out the day, as bright little minds gather knowledge form their teacher. But the little hands make the time pass quickly.
Contrary to popular belief, the teacher's work is not through at the end of the school day. Oh, no. There’re many unfinished chores -- blackboards to be cleaned, erasers dusted, and of course the ever-present parent-teacher relationship. So it's to this great profession and its halls of learning that we dedicate this. When the occasion arises, there’re times when disciplinary actions must be taken.
優(yōu)美的英語美文篇二
Spring song
Spring is coming, spring is coming,
Birdies, build your nest;
Weave together straw and feather,
Doing each your best.
Spring is coming, spring is coming,
Flowers are coming too:
Pansies, lilies, daffodillies,
Now are coming thought
Spring is coming, spring is coming,
All around is fair,
Shimmer and quiver on the river,
Joy is everywhere.
優(yōu)美的英語美文篇三
At the edge of the sea
The shore is an ancient world, for as long as there has been an earth and se a there has been this place of the meeting of land and water. Yet it is a world that keeps alive the sense of continuing creation and of the relentless drive of life. Each time that I enter it, I gain some new awareness of its beauty and it sdeeper meanings, sensing that intricate fabric of life by which one creature is linked with another, and each with its surroundings.
In my thoughts of the shore, one place stands apart for its revelation of exquisite beauty. It is a pool hidden within a cave that one can visit only rarely and briefly when the lowest of the year's low tides fall below it, and perhaps from that very fact it acquires some of its special beauty. Choosing such a tide , I hoped for a glimpse of the pool. The ebb was to fall early in the morning. I knew that if the wind held from the northwest and no interfering swell ran in from a distant storm the level of the sea should drop below the entrance to the pool. There had been sudden ominous showers in the night, with rain like handfuls of gravel flung on the roof. When I looked out into the early morning the sky was full of a gray dawn light but the sun had not yet risen. Water and air were pallid. Across the bay the moon was a luminous disc in the western sky, suspended above the dim line of distant shore -- the full August moon, drawing the tide to the low, low levels of the threshold of the alien sea world. As I watched, a gull flew by, above the spruces. Its breast was rosy with the light of the unrisen sun. The day was, after all, to be fair.
Later, as I stood above the tide near the entrance to the pool, the promise of that rosy light was sustained. From the base of the steep wall of rock on which I stood, a moss covered ledge jutted seaward into deep water. In the surge at the rim of the ledge the dark fronds of oarweeds swayed smooth and gleaming as leather. The projecting ledge was the path to the small hidden cave and its pool. Occasionally a swell, stronger than the rest, rolled smoothly over the rim and broke in foam against the cliff. But the intervals between such swells were lo ng enough to admit me to the ledge and long enough for a glimpse of that fairy pool, so seldom and so briefly exposed.
And so I knelt on the wet carpet of sea moss and looked back into the dark cavern that held the pool in a shallow basin. The floor of the cave was only a fewinches below the roof, and a mirror had been created in which all that grew on the ceiling was reflected in the still water below.
Under water that was clear as glass the pool was carpeted with green sponge. Gray patches of sea squirts glistened on the ceiling and colonies of raft coral were a pale apricot color. In the moment when I looked into the cave a little e lfin starfish hung down, suspended by the merest thread, perhaps by only a single tube foot. It reached down to touch its own reflection, so perfectly delineated that there might have been, not one starfish, but two. The beauty of the refle cted images and of the limpid pool itself was the poignant beauty of things that are ephemeral, existing only until the sea should return to fill the little cave.
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