英語六級晨讀美文100篇：My Perfect House（100）
My house is perfect.
By great good fortune I have found a housekeeper no less to my mind,
a low-voiced, light-footed woman of discreet age, strong and deft enough to render me all the service I require,
and not afraid of loneliness.
She rises very early.
By my breakfast-time there remains little to be done under the roof save dressing of meals.
Very rarely do I hear even a clink of crockery; never the closing of a door or window.
Oh, blessed silence!
My house is perfect.
Just large enough to allow the grace of order in domestic circumstance;
just that superfluity of inner space, to lack which is to be less than at ones ease.
The fabric is sound; the work in wood and plaster tells of a more leisurely and a more honest age than ours.
The stairs do not creak under my step; I am attacked by no unkindly draught;
I can open or close a window without muscle-ache.
As to such trifles as the color and device of wall-paper, I confess my indifference;
be the walls only plain, and I am satisfied.
The first thing in ones home is comfort;
let beauty of detail be added if one has the means, the patience, the eye.
To me, this little book-room is beautiful, and chiefly because it is home.
Through the greater part of life I was homeless.
Many places have I lived, some which my soul disliked, and some which pleased me well;
but never till now with that sense of security which makes a home.
At any moment I might have been driven forth by evil accident, by disturbing necessity.
For all that time did I say within myself:
Some day, perchance, I shall have a home;
yet the perchance had more and more of emphasis as life went on,
and at the moment when fate was secretly smiling on me, I had all but abandoned hope.
I have my home at last.
This house is mine on a lease of a score of years.
So long I certainly shall not live;
but, if I did, even so long should I have the money to pay my rent and buy my food.
I am no cosmopolite.
Were I to think that I should die away from England, the thought would be dreadful to me.
And in England, this is the place of my choice; this is my home.
My house is perfect.
By great good fortune I have found a housekeeper no less to my mind,
a low-voiced, light-footed woman of discreet age, strong and deft enough to render me all the service I require,
and not afraid of loneliness.
She rises very early.
By my breakfast-time there remains little to be done under the roof save dressing of meals.
Very rarely do I hear even a clink of crockery; never the closing of a door or window.
Oh, blessed silence!
My house is perfect.
Just large enough to allow the grace of order in domestic circumstance;
just that superfluity of inner space, to lack which is to be less than at ones ease.
The fabric is sound; the work in wood and plaster tells of a more leisurely and a more honest age than ours.
The stairs do not creak under my step; I am attacked by no unkindly draught;
I can open or close a window without muscle-ache.
As to such trifles as the color and device of wall-paper, I confess my indifference;
be the walls only plain, and I am satisfied.
The first thing in ones home is comfort;
let beauty of detail be added if one has the means, the patience, the eye.
To me, this little book-room is beautiful, and chiefly because it is home.
Through the greater part of life I was homeless.
Many places have I lived, some which my soul disliked, and some which pleased me well;
but never till now with that sense of security which makes a home.
At any moment I might have been driven forth by evil accident, by disturbing necessity.
For all that time did I say within myself:
Some day, perchance, I shall have a home;
yet the perchance had more and more of emphasis as life went on,
and at the moment when fate was secretly smiling on me, I had all but abandoned hope.
I have my home at last.
This house is mine on a lease of a score of years.
So long I certainly shall not live;
but, if I did, even so long should I have the money to pay my rent and buy my food.
I am no cosmopolite.
Were I to think that I should die away from England, the thought would be dreadful to me.
And in England, this is the place of my choice; this is my home.
