英語四級晨讀美文大全
前,世界范圍的新技術(shù)革命蓬勃興起,人們對各種信息的需要日益迫切,英語在信息交流和信息反饋中,越來越顯示出其重要地位。下面是學(xué)習(xí)啦小編帶來的英語四級晨讀美文，歡迎閱讀!
英語四級晨讀美文篇一
婚姻的真理
The Truth about Marriage
I think that we should all have two lives. One to live to make mistakes and then one to come back and do it again. You know so you don‘t make mistakes. I mean because parents will not tell you things - nobody ever tells you. Parents don’t want to sit down and really 1)garb and say： well now this is what this is about and this is why we are doing this and this - No it‘s a big secret!
When I got married I said to my father， “I‘m going to get married， can you help me?” He said no. I went to my mother， I said “I’m going to get married， Ma， tell me something about it.” She said， “Oh， that‘s wonderful. Your father and I have never argued， and he’s just been wonderful all through life. ”Which is a lie! Lie! I heard him in there， and， “I‘ll now tell you another thing I’ll take your arm and 2)rip it off and rararara……”
And now in my marriage， my wife and I love each other but I will tell you 3)in a minute we‘ve had some arguments! I mean I’ve never 4)punched her and she‘s never punched me but we’ve had some arguments， I‘ve called her some names that I was proud I even thought of. And my wife has 5)run some of on me that I’ve written down， yeah， but nobody will tell you that. The only person who ever made an attempt was a priest. Think about that. A priest! Said， “I‘ll tell you about it，” I beg your pardon.
Marriage， you can‘t beat it. The first day we got married， both of us scared and everything， there we got married and we went to our hotel room for our honeymoon and just stared at each other - just sat there on the edge of the bed with our clothes on looking at each other. Then finally we got in the car and went to the 6)drive-in and then we knew what to do.
英語四級晨讀美文篇二
Magic snowball time
神奇的雪球時節(jié)
Every fall, when the frost first played freeze tag with the grass, Papa would come to our house. He would shuffle in, his soft, shiny leather shoes dancing across Momma's sunflower-yellow-tiled kitchen floor. All six of us kids knew why he was there. First frost meant magic snowball time.
Papa only came to our house once a year. He and Granny lived in an apartment upstairs from an old neighborhood corner store in the big city. Papa said they lived there to be close to the old-fashioned penny candy counter in the store.
We went to see Papa, Granny and that penny candy counter every Saturday. Unless, of course, the first frost fell on a Saturday. The first frost always meant that Papa was coming to see us.
Papa would bring an old battered coal shovel and an old-fashioned ice chest with him. He'd hustle all six of us kids out to the backyard. Then, he'd start digging and talking. He always worked as he talked.
Papa would tell us how he'd lived with the gypsies before he'd met Granny. He'd tell us about life on the road with the carnival. He'd show us magic tricks and tell us strange but true tales of gypsy powers. Then, Papa would start talking about the importance of the magic snowbank.
We'd gather around him and listen like we were supposed to, but never did, in church. He would tell us how some folks believed that if you wanted a good snowy winter, you always had to save a little snow from the winter before and put it into the magic snowbank. Then, he'd let us each have a turn digging.
The dirt would fly, as we steadily took turns digging down into the earth. We could smell the last barbequed breezes of summer, and the newly fallen leaves of autumn. Sometimes, we'd all swear that we'd smelled the peppermint, candy cane, gingerbread house and poinsettia fragrances of Christmas wafting out of that hole.
Papa would tell us how some folks believed that you have to give to the earth if you want it to give to you. He'd talk about how any good farmer knows that you can't expect to reap a harvest without planting seeds. Our snow seeds were in his old ice chest.
Soon enough, Papa would open that old ice chest. We'd crowd around it with the same amount of wonder every year. Inside, Papa would have seven perfect magic snowballs. There was always one for him, and one for each of us kids.
We'd wait politely, but impatiently as he passed them out. We could never hold them for long, as Papa said it wouldn't work if we were selfish. We didn't want to melt the snow and have nothing to offer the earth.
We would solemnly place our snowballs into the hole, quickly, if still a bit reluctantly. There's not a child I've ever known that didn't want to throw a snowball once it was placed into his or her hands. We weren't any different. We just knew that we had to give our snowballs to the earth. Our snowballs were magic. Our snowballs were the seeds for the magic snowbank.
Papa would cover our magic snowbank with the dirt that we'd shoveled out of the hole. We'd all hold hands and sing Christmas carols, as Papa buried our magic snowballs.
Then, Papa would wipe his hands on his pants and smile.
"Well, we've planted our magic snowballs on the day of the first frost, kids. It's up to the magic snowbank now," he'd say.
When the first snow came, as it did every winter, all six of us would run out into the yard and catch snowflakes on our tongues and in our mittens. We'd taste the tickly, shivery delight of falling ice stars. We'd examine the crystal beauty of bright white, frosty flakes on dark, warm mittens.
It was all Papa's magic, and we were a part of it. We would dance and hug and giggle and grin and sing, all six of us together. We never quarreled or argued on the day the first snow fell. We were too pleased with ourselves.
We knew we were magic. The first snow reminded us of Papa, the first frost and our magic snowbank deep within the earth. We knew we had a secret all our own. We had helped the snow to fall once again. We were snow farmers, and to us, first frost meant magic snowball time.
I'm all grown up now. Still, I'll tell you a secret. My family carries on Papa's magic. We have a magic snowbank in our backyard. Think of us when the first snow flies...as I think of my Papa and hope that someday my grandchildren will think of me.
英語四級晨讀美文篇三
你要知道什么是生活的樂趣
Joy in living comes from having fine emotions， trusting them， giving them the freedom of a bird in the open. Joy in living can never be assumed as a pose， or put on from the outside as a mask. People who have this joy don not need to talk about it; they radiate it. They just live out their joy and let it splash its sunlight and glow into other lives as naturally as bird sings.
We can never get it by working for it directly. It comes， like happiness， to those who are aiming at something higher. It is a byproduct of great， simple living. The joy of living comes from what we put into living， not from what we seek to get from it.
by A.T. Rowe
生活之樂趣來源于良好的情緒，信賴這些情緒，并任由它們?nèi)缤B兒高翔于天空般地自由自在。
生活的樂趣是無法靠姿態(tài)擺出來的，也無法用戴上一張面具來偽裝。 擁有這種樂趣的人們無需掛在嘴邊，他們自然會煥發(fā)出快樂的氣息。他們自己生活在快樂當(dāng)中，也將這樣的快樂自然而然地感染著他人，猶如是鳥兒就必將歌唱。
直接追求生活的樂趣卻只會使樂趣遠(yuǎn)離我們，它與幸福一樣青睞胸有大志的人們。生活過得高雅、簡單便會產(chǎn)生出樂趣。它是我們對生活的投入，而非所求。
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