Tina Tang的部落格

snobbish勢利眼

snob

wiki:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Snob

"That government is best which governs least, because its people discipline themselves." – Thomas Jefferson

管得最少的政府就是最好的政府。

Thomas Jefferson

wiki:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Thomas_Jefferson

Electoral College

wiki:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Electoral_College_(United_States)

University of Virginia

wiki:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/University_of_Virginia

official website:

http://www.virginia.edu/

French leave 不告而別

e.g., My plan is to take a French leave. I hate this party!

wiki:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/French_leave

商業週刊:

http://www.businessweekly.com.tw/KBlogArticle.aspx?id=12170

American Dream 努力不懈便能成功圓夢

e.g., Some Americans believe that the American dream is now out of their reach.

wiki:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/American_Dream

Spanish Athlete

e.g., Jack has been a Spanish athlete since he was 5!

http://buzzorange.com/techorange/2015/05/22/eight-words-with-nations-you-should-know/

Thermometer 溫度計

wiki:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Thermometer

Hydrometer 溼度計

wiki:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hydrometer

Jeanie With The Light Brown Hair

Youtube:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sKdq249uOGs

lyrics:

I dream of Jeanie with the light brown hair,

Borne, like a vapor on the summer air,

I see her tripping where the bright streams play,

Happy as the daisies that dance on her way

Many were the wild notes her merry voice would pour

Many were the blithe birds that warbled them o'er

Oh I dream of Jeanie with the light brown hair,

Floating like a vapor on the soft summer air!

Old Black Joe

Youtube:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2YGxk7VC3ic

lyrics:

Gone are the days when my heart was young and gay

Gone are the toils of the cotton fields away

Gone to the fields of a better land, I know

I hear those gentle voices calling, 'Old black Joe'

I'm comin', I'm comin'

Though my head is bendin' low

I hear those gentle voices calling, 'Old black Joe'

I'm comin' home , I'm comin' home

Well, I'm comin' home, I'm comin' home

Though my head , my head, my head is bendin' low

I hear those gentle voices calling, 'Old black Joe'

Gone are the days when my heart was young and gay

Gone are the toils of the cotton fields away

Gone to the fields of a better land I know

I hear those gentle voices calling, 'Old black Joe'

I'm comin' home , I'm comin' home

Oh, an' I'm comin' home, I'm comin' home

Well, oh well, my head, my head is bendin' low

I hear those gentle voices calling, 'Old black Joe'

I'm comin' home , I'm comin' home

Oh, an' I'm comin' home, I'm comin' home

Can you see my head, my head is bendin' low

I hear those gentle voices calling, 'Old black Joe

Old black Joe, old black Joe'

Ode on a Grecian Urn

poetry foundation:

http://www.poetryfoundation.org/poem/173742

Thou still unravish'd bride of quietness,

       Thou foster-child of silence and slow time,

Sylvan historian, who canst thus express

       A flowery tale more sweetly than our rhyme:

What leaf-fring'd legend haunts about thy shape

       Of deities or mortals, or of both,

               In Tempe or the dales of Arcady?

       What men or gods are these? What maidens loth?

What mad pursuit? What struggle to escape?

               What pipes and timbrels? What wild ecstasy?

Heard melodies are sweet, but those unheard

       Are sweeter; therefore, ye soft pipes, play on;

Not to the sensual ear, but, more endear'd,

       Pipe to the spirit ditties of no tone:

Fair youth, beneath the trees, thou canst not leave

       Thy song, nor ever can those trees be bare;

               Bold Lover, never, never canst thou kiss,

Though winning near the goal yet, do not grieve;

       She cannot fade, though thou hast not thy bliss,

               For ever wilt thou love, and she be fair!

Ah, happy, happy boughs! that cannot shed

         Your leaves, nor ever bid the Spring adieu;

And, happy melodist, unwearied,

         For ever piping songs for ever new;

More happy love! more happy, happy love!

         For ever warm and still to be enjoy'd,

                For ever panting, and for ever young;

All breathing human passion far above,

         That leaves a heart high-sorrowful and cloy'd,

                A burning forehead, and a parching tongue.

Who are these coming to the sacrifice?

         To what green altar, O mysterious priest,

Lead'st thou that heifer lowing at the skies,

         And all her silken flanks with garlands drest?

What little town by river or sea shore,

         Or mountain-built with peaceful citadel,

                Is emptied of this folk, this pious morn?

And, little town, thy streets for evermore

         Will silent be; and not a soul to tell

                Why thou art desolate, can e'er return.

O Attic shape! Fair attitude! with brede

         Of marble men and maidens overwrought,

With forest branches and the trodden weed;

         Thou, silent form, dost tease us out of thought

As doth eternity: Cold Pastoral!

         When old age shall this generation waste,

                Thou shalt remain, in midst of other woe

Than ours, a friend to man, to whom thou say'st,

         "Beauty is truth, truth beauty,—that is all

                Ye know on earth, and all ye need to know."

The Philosophy of Composition

wiki:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Philosophy_of_Composition

Alliteration

wiki:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Alliteration

sepulcher 地下墓穴

highborn kinsman 死神