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My Garments shall be woven of sighs and heart-broken lamentations:
The misery1 of unhappy Families shall be drawn2 out into its border, Wrought3 with the needle, with dire4 sufferings, poverty, pain, and woe5, Along the rocky Island and thence throughout the whole Earth. There shall be the sick Father and his starving Family; there The Prisoner in the stone Dungeon6, and the Slave at the Mill. I will have writings written all over it in Human words, That every Infant that is born upon the Earth shall read And get by rote7, as a hard task of a life of sixty years. I will have Kings inwoven upon it, and Counsellors and Mighty8 Men: The Famine shall clasp it together with buckles9 and clasps, And the Pestilence10 shall be its fringe, and the War its girdle; To divide into Rahab and Tirzah, that Milton may come to our tents. For I will put on the Human Form, and take the Image of God, Even Pity and Humanity; but my clothing shall be Cruelty. And I will put on Holiness as a breastplate and as a helmet. And all my ornaments11 shall be of the gold of broken hearts, And the precious stones of anxiety and care, and desperation and death, And repentance12 for sin, and sorrow, and punishment and fear; To defend me from thy terrors, O Orc! my only belovèd! 点击收听单词发音
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