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What is poetry? Is it a mosaic Of coloured stones which curiously1 are wrought Into a pattern? Rather glass that's taught By patient labor2 any hue3 to take And glowing with a sumptuous4 splendor5, make Beauty a thing of awe6; where sunbeams caught, Transmuted fall in sheafs of rainbows fraught With storied meaning for religion's sake. 点击收听单词发音
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