Where art thou hiding, where thy peace?
This is the hour, but thou art not.
Will waking tumult never cease?
Hast thou thy votary forgot?
Nature forsakes this man-begot
And festering wilderness, and now
The long still hours are here, no jot
Of dear communing do I know;
Instead the glaring, man-filled city groans below!
【AmyLowell:NewYorkatNight】相关文章:
★ AmyLowell:ATaleforanAutumnEvening
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2016-03-17
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2016-03-17