托馬斯·德·昆西(Thomas De Quincey，1785-1859年)，英國散文家。他的散文作品熱情洋溢，經常達到語氣莊重，韻律優美如詩的效果，與彌爾頓等偉大詩人的作品相似。在這方面，他的代表作《一個吸食鴉片者的自白》(Confessions of an English Opium Eater)表現突出，其中最動人的篇章就來自作者吸食鴉片后所產生的狂熱夢境。德·昆西寫了很多散文作品，題材涉及文學、哲學、神學、政治學等領域。

Sweet funeral bells from some incalculable distance, wailing over the dead that die before the dawn, awakened me as I slept in a boat moored to some familiar shore.

悅耳的喪鐘聲，從不知多遠的地方飄來，為那些黎明前去世的人哀唱，此刻喚醒了睡在舟中的我，舟正泊在熟悉的岸旁。

The morning twilight even then was breaking; and, by the dusky revelations which it spread, I saw a girl, adorned with a garland of white roses about her head for some great festival, running along the solitarystrand in extremity of haste. Her running was the running of panic; and often she looked back as to some dreadful enemy in the rear. But when I leaped ashore, and followed in her steps to warn her of a peril in front, alas! from me she fled as from another peril, and vainly I shouted to her of quicksands that lay ahead. Faster and faster she ran; round a promontory of rocks she wheeled out of sight; in an instant I also wheeled round it, but only to see the treacherous sands gathering above her head. Already her person was buried; only the fair young head and the diadem of white roses around it were still visible to the pitying heavens; and, last of all, was visible one white marble arm. I saw by the early twilight this fair young head, as it was sinking down to darkness—saw this marble arm, as it rose above her head and her treacherous grave, tossing, faltering, rising, clutching, as at some false deceiving hand stretched out from the clouds—saw this marble arm uttering her dying hope, and then uttering her dying despair. The head, the diadem, the arm, —these all had sunk; at last over these also the cruel quicksand had closed; and no memorial of the fair young girl remained on earth, except my own solitary tears, and the funeral bells from the desert seas that, rising again more softly, sang a requiem over the grave of the buried child, and over her blighted dawn.

借拂曉冥暗的晨光，朦朧中，我依稀看見一位姑娘，頭戴節日的白玫瑰光環，飛奔在孤寂的海岸上。她跑得慌張，還不停回頭，仿佛被壞人追上。我于是跳上岸，追向前，警告她前方危險，但可嘆，她卻避我而逃，好像我也是壞人。我高聲呼喊前方有流沙。可她卻跑得越發飛快，繞過海岬，消失在前方。轉瞬間，我也繞過了海岬，但見到的卻是那險惡的流沙正將她埋葬。她身軀已被掩沒，只有少女滿是秀發的頭和那玫瑰花冠任由憐憫的蒼天俯視，最后就只剩下一只玉臂。借著清晨的微光，我看見那姑娘的頭正沉入黑暗，看見那玉臂仍舉在頭上，舉在那險惡的墓地上，無望地擺動著，搖晃著、伸展著，仿佛要拼命抓住云端伸出的一只欺人的手;我看見那玉臂呼喊著垂死的希望，然后是垂死的絕望。頭顱、花環、玉臂——都已沉了下去，最后那無情的流沙將女孩完全埋葬;這位美麗的姑娘沒有在大地上留下任何可供追憶的痕跡，只有我孤獨的眼淚和喪鐘的回響。那喪鐘聲從蒼涼的海上又一次更輕柔地響起，在女孩的孤墳上回蕩，在她早逝的黎明間回蕩，將一支挽歌吟唱。

I sat, and wept in secret the tears that men have ever given to the memory of those that died before the dawn, and by the treachery of earth, our mother. But the tears and funeral bells were hushed suddenly by a shout as of many nations, and by a roar as from some great king’s artillery advancing rapidly along the valleys, and heard afar by its echoes among the mountains. “Hush!” I said, as I bent my ear earthwards to listen—“hush!—this either is the very anarchy of strife, or else”—and then I listened more profoundly, and said as I raised my head—“or else, oh heavens! It is victory that swallows up all strife.”

我坐下來，暗自哭出了淚水，這是人們為悼念黎明前逝去的人都流過的淚。逝者被險惡的大地奪去了生命，大地是我們的母親。但突然間哭泣與鐘聲因萬國齊鳴般的一聲吶喊歸于沉寂，因回蕩在遠山中的一聲咆哮嘎然終止，那咆哮像是某位大王的炮兵急速前進、聲震山谷的巨響。“噓!”我一面說著，一面將耳朵俯在大地上傾聽。“噓!這要不正式那紛爭的喧鬧聲，要不”，我更仔細傾聽，抬起頭說：“要不，天啊!這是吞噬一切紛爭的勝利回響”。