課前英語(yǔ)小演講2分鐘（精選3篇）
課前英語(yǔ)小演講2分鐘 篇1
Are you dissatisfied with today's success? It is the harvest from yesterday's sowing. Do you dream of a golden morrow? You will reap what you are sowing today. We get out of life just what we put into it.
Nature takes on our moods: she laughs with those who laugh and weeps with those who weep. If we rejoice and are glad the very birds sing more sweetly, the woods and streams murmur our song. But if we are sad and sorrowful a sudden gloom falls upon Nature's face; the sun shines, but not in our hearts, the birds sing, but not to us.
The future will be just what we make it. Our purpose will give it its character. One's resolution is one's prophecy. Leave all your discouraging pessimism behind. Do not prophesy evil, but good. Men of hope come to the front.
課前英語(yǔ)小演講2分鐘 篇2
Springs are not always the same. In some years, April bursts upon Virginia hills in one prodigious leap – and all the stage is filled at once, whole choruses of tulips, arabesques of forsythia, cadenzas of flowering plum. The trees grow leaves overnight.
In other years, spring tiptoes in. It pauses, overcome by shyness, like my grandchild at the door, peeping in, ducking out of sight, giggling in the hallway. “I know you’re out there,” I cry. “Come in!” And April slips into our arms.
The dogwood bud, pale green, is inlaid with russet markings. Within the perfect cup a score of clustered seeds are nestled. One examines the bud in awe: Where were those seeds a month ago? The apples display their milliner’s scraps of ivory silk, rose-tinged. All the sleeping things wake up – primrose, baby iris, blue phlox. The earth warms – you can smell it, feel it, crumble April in your hands.
課前英語(yǔ)小演講2分鐘 篇3
feeling of youth
no young man believes he shall ever die. it was a saying of my brother's, and a fine one. there is a feeling of eternity in youth, which makes us amend for everything. to be young is to be as one of the immortal gods. one half of time indeed is flown-the other half remains in store for us with all its countletreasures; for there is no line drawn, and we see no limit to our hopes and wishes. we make the coming age our own-
the vast, the unbounded prospect lies before us.
death. old age. are words without a meaning. that paby us like the idea air which we regard not. others may have undergone, or may still be liable to them-we "bear a charmed life“, which laughs to scorn all such sickly fancies. as in setting out on delightful journey, we strain our eager gaze forward-