Luyện nghe bài hát Inflammatory Writ

Oh, where is your writ
Your that would inside a light be lit
Our music devotion unswerving
Cry "Do I her?" with unflagging fervor
Well, no we do not if we cannot get it

But what's it when suddenly we're spent, tell me true
Ambition and reared its head and went far from you
Even mollusks weddings, though solemn and leaden
But you for the dead and take no jam on your bread
Just a of salt and a waltz through your empty bed

And all at it came to me
And I in hunch 'til four-thirty
But that vestal
It burns out the night
In spite of all the time we spend on it
On one ghost of a sonnet
outside the wild boars root
Without bending a underfoot
Oh it my heart
I don't know how do it
So ask me

And as for my writ
Well, I it and I was not inflamed one bit
Advice from the master that disaster
He said "Hand that pen to me, poetaster!"
While across the great keening lovely and awful
the lost Great American Novels
An unlawful lot left to and freeze, floodlit
But at least they didn't run, to their undying