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I bring an unaccustomed wine To lips long parching Next to mine, And summon them to drink; Crackling with fever, they Essay, I turn my brimming eyes away, And come next hour to look. The hands still hug the tardy1 glass -- The lips I would have cooled, alas2 -- Are so superfluous3 Cold -- I would as soon attempt to warm The bosoms4 where the frost has lain Ages beneath the mould -- Some other thirsty there may be To whom this would have pointed5 me Had it remained to speak -- And so I always bear the cup If, haply, mine may be the drop Some pilgrim thirst to slake6 -- If, haply, any say to me "Unto the little, unto me," When I at last awake. 点击收听单词发音
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