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A Lay Made About the Year Of The City (18)

分类: 英语诗歌 
 XVIII

    I wis, in all the Senate, There was no heart so bold, But sore it ached, and fast it beat, When that ill news was told. Forthwith up rose the Consul, Up rose the Fathers all; In haste they girded up their gowns, And hied them to the wall.

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