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The light of evening, Lissadell,
Great windows open to the south, Two girls in silk kimonos, both Beautiful, one a gazelle. Blossom from the summer‘s wreath; The older is condemned3 to death, Pardoned, drags out lonely years Conspiring4 among the ignorant. I know not what the younger dreams— Some vague Utopia—and she seems, When withered5 old and skeleton-gaunt, An image of such politics. Many a time I think to seek One or the other out and speak Of that old Georgian mansion6, mix Pictures of the mind, recall That table and the talk of youth, Two girls in silk kimonos, both Beautiful, one a gazelle. Dear shadows, now you know it all, With a common wrong or right. The innocent and the beautiful Have no enemy but time; Arise and bid me strike a match And strike another till time catch; Should the conflagration8 climb, We the great gazebo built, Bid me strike a match and blow. 点击收听单词发音
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