But my heart is fresh, if my youth is fled!" Said the jolly old pedagogue, long ago. 可我的心是年轻的，要是我的青春能再来的话！”很久以前，这个欢快的老先生说。

　　He smoked his pipe in the balmy air Every night, when the sun went down; 在温暖的氛围里，他吸着烟斗每个晚上，当太阳落下

　　And the soft wind played in his silvery hair, Leaving its tenderest kisses there, On the jolly old pedagogue's jolly old crown; 微风轻抚他那满头银发，留下最温柔的吻，在这个欢快的老先生那欢快的头上；

　　And feeling the kisses, he smiled, and said: 觉察到那轻吻，他微笑道：

　　" 'T is a glorious world down here below; Why wait for happiness till we are dead?" “下界是令人快乐的世界；为什么到死都等待幸福？”

　　Said this jolly old pedagogue, long ago. 很久以前，这个欢快的老先生说。

　　He sat at his door one midsummer night, After the sun had sunk in the west, 一个仲夏夜，斜阳西下后，他坐在门口，

　　And the lingering beams of golden light Made his kindly old face look warm and bright, 金色余晖徜徉，他那张和蔼的老脸愈发温和明亮，

　　While the odorous night winds whispered, "Rest!" 香风低语，“休息吧！”

　　Gently, gently, he bowed his head; There were angels waiting for him, I know; 轻轻的，他低下头；我知道天使来接他；

　　He was sure of his happiness, living or dead, This jolly old pedagogue, long ago! 他肯定沐浴在幸福中，不管活着还是撒手人寰，很久以前，有位欢快的老先生。