亨利·大衛·梭羅/ Henry David Thoreau
亨利·大衛·梭羅（1817—1862），散文家、超驗主義哲學家。出生於美國以超驗主義中心著稱的康科德，並在那兒度過了大半生。梭羅畢生以超驗主義作為自己的生活準則，並將之發揮到極致；他一生未娶，曾隱居瓦爾登湖兩年有餘，過著與世隔絕的生活，並在湖邊的木屋裏寫下了著名的《瓦爾登湖》一書。本文即選自此書。
Ace in the Hole
Understand these new words before you read this article.
1. creak [kri:k] v. 發出咯吱咯吱聲
2. tread [tred] v. 踏
3. creep [kri:p] v. 爬行；慢慢地移動
4. loiter ['l?it?] v. 閑**；虛度
5. forlorn [f?'l?:n] adj. 被遺棄的
The wind has gently murmured through the blinds, or puffed with feathery softness against the windows, and occasionally sighed like a summer zephyr lifting the leaves along, the livelong night. The meadow mouse has slept in his snug gallery in the sod, the owl has sat in a hollow tree in the depth of the swamp, the rabbit, the squirrel, and the fox have all been housed. The watch-dog has lain quiet on the hearth, and the cattle have stood silent in their stalls. The earth itself has slept, as it were its first, not its last sleep, save when some street sign or woodhouse door has faintly creaked upon its hinge, cheering forlorn nature at her midnight work—the only sound awake twixt Venus and Mars—advertising us of a remote inward warmth, a divine cheer and fellowship, where gods are met together, but where it is very bleak for men to stand. But while the earth has slumbered, all the air has been alive with feathery flakes descending, as if some northern Ceres reigned, showering her silvery grain over all the fields.
We sleep, and at length awake to the still reality of a winter morning. The snow lies warm as cotton or down upon the window sill; the broadened sash and frosted panes admit a dim and private light, which enhances the snug cheer within. The stillness of the morning is impressive. The floor creaks under our feet as we move toward the window to look abroad through some clear space over the fields, we see the roofs stand under their snow burden. From the eaves and fences hang stalactites of snow, and in the yard stand stalagmites covering some concealed core. The trees and shrubs rear white arms to the sky on every side; and where were walls and fences, we see fantastic forms stretching in frolic gambols across the dusky landscape, as if Nature had strewn her fresh designs over the fields by night as models for man’s art.