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发表于 2013-3-23 12:01:00
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All Nature seems at work.
Slugs leave their lair --The bees are stirring -- birds are on the wing --And Winter slumbering in the open air, Wears on his smiling face a dream of Spring!
And I the while, the sole unbusy thing, Nor honey make, nor pair, nor build, nor sing.
Yet well I ken the banks where amaranths blow,Have traced the fount whence streams of nectar flow.
Bloom, O ye amaranths! bloom for whom ye may, For me ye bloom not! Glide, rich streams, away!
With lips unbrightened, wreathless brow, I stroll: And would you learn the spells that drowse my soul?
Work without Hope draws nectar in a sieve, And Hope without an object cannot live.
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