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Give me your tired, your poor,
Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,
The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.
Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me,
I lift my lamp beside the gold...
欢迎光临 空网论坛 (http://bbs.kongweb.net/) | 作者: 情雨如泪 时间: 2007-7-7 10:12 |