Timothy Dwight，1752—1817，was born at Northampton，Massachusetts.His mother was a daughter of the celebrated Jonathan Edwards.It is said that she taught her son the alphabet in one lesson，that he could read the Bible at four years of age，and that he studied Latin by himself at six.He graduated at Yale in 1769，returned as tutor in 1771，and continued six years.He was chaplain in a brigade under General Putnam for a time.In 1778 his father died，and for five years he supported his mother and a family of twelve children by farming，teaching and preaching.From 1783 to 1795 he was pastor at Greenfield，Connecticut.He was then chosen President of Yale College，and remained in office till he died.Dr.Dwight was a man of fine bodily presence，of extended learning，and untiring industry.His presidency of the college was highly successful.His patriotism was no less ardent and true than his piety.In his younger days he wrote considerably in verse.His poetry is not all of a very high order，but some pieces possess merit.
The place，with east and western sides，
A wide and verdant street divides:
And here the houses faced the day，
And there the lawns in beauty lay.
There，turret-crowned，and central，stood
A neat and solemn house of God.
Across the way，beneath the shade
Two elms with sober silence spread，
The preacher lived.O'er all the place
His mansion cast a Sunday grace；
Dumb stillness sate the fields around；
His garden seemed a hallowed ground；
Swains ceased to laugh aloud，when near，
And schoolboys never sported there.
In the same mild and temperate zone，
Twice twenty years，his course had run，
His locks of flowing silver spread
A crown of glory o'er his head；
His face，the image of his mind，
With grave and furrowed wisdom shined；
Not cold；but glowing still，and bright；
Yet glowing with October light:
As evening blends，with beauteous ray，
Approaching night with shining day.
His Cure his thoughts engrossed alone:
For them his painful course was run:
To bless，to save，his only care；
To chill the guilty soul with fear；
To point the pathway to the skies，
And teach，and urge，and aid，to rise；
Where strait，and difficult to keep，
It climbs，and climbs，o'er Virtue's steep.
译文 TRANSLATION
蒂莫西·德怀特（1752—1817），出生于马萨诸塞州。相传他四岁读《圣经》，六岁自学拉丁文。1769年，毕业于耶鲁。1783—1795年在康涅狄格州格林菲尔德做牧师，期间被选为耶鲁学院校长。德怀特年轻时写过很多诗，虽未尽臻上乘，有些亦饶有特色。
那个地方，分成东西两侧，
中间是条宽阔、葱茏的街：
房屋朝向晨曦，草坪绵延美丽，
塔楼点缀，中间矗立着
整洁、肃穆的教堂。
在街对面，静谧的榆荫下，
是牧师的家。他的居所发出主日的柔辉；
四周的原野一派岑寂；
他的花园宛若圣地。
走近它，村野的情郎不再大笑，
学童们也不再嬉戏玩闹。
在同样温暖、宁和的地带，
二十年间，他两度经过这里。
他戴着辉煌的冠冕，
飘逸着银色的卷发，
他的慈颜，仿如心灵的镜像，
辉耀着凝重、深邃的智慧；
没有一丝冷意；唯有宁静与明澈；
十月的秋光熠熠：
当黄昏织起一天霞锦，
伴着晶莹的白昼走近清夜。
他的治愈者铭刻在思绪中。
对他们，他痛苦的旅程已结束：
祝福，拯救，他唯一的牵挂；
让有罪的灵魂因恐惧而战抖；
为它指示通向天堂的路径，
教诲它，督促它，辅助它，支持它；
在狭仄、难于立足的地方，
灵魂在攀越、攀越美德的峭壁。
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