问dnf里有代打装备的吗？

to see a world in a grain of sand
and a he**en in a wild flower,
hold infinity in the palm of your hand
and eternity in an hour.
一沙一世界
一花一天堂
摊开你的手掌
永恒在这一刻收藏
上面的四行诗是长诗《auguries of innocence》的开头四行。作者名唤威廉·布莱克（william blake 1757-1827），他还是一位水彩画家、版画家。此诗写于1863年。有意思的是，虽然前四句家喻户晓，整**诗却不在布莱克的代表作之列，评论家们也很少谈起。全诗如下：
auguries of innocence
to see a world in a grain of sand
and a he**en in a wild flower,
hold infinity in the palm of your hand
and eternity in an hour.
a robin redbreast in a cage
puts all he**en in a rage.
a dove-house filled with doves and pigeons
shudders hell through all its regions.
a dog starved at h** master's gate
predicts the ruin of the state.
a horse m**used upon the road
calls to he**en for human blood.
each outcry of the hunted hare
a fibre from the brain does tear.
a skylark wounded in the wing,
a cherubim does cease to sing.
the game-cock clipped and armed for fight
does the r**ing sun affright.
every wolf's and lion's howl
ra**es from hell a human soul.
the wild deer wandering here and there
keeps the human soul from care.
the lamb m**used breeds public strife,
and yet forgives the butcher's knife.
the bat that flits at close of eve
has left the brain that won't believe.
the owl that calls upon the night
speaks the unbeliever's fright.
he who shall hurt the little wren
shall never be beloved by men.
he who the ox to wrath has moved
shall never be by woman loved.
the wanton boy that kills the fly
shall feel the spider's enmity.
he who torments the chafer's sprite
we**es a bower in endless night.
the caterpillar on the leaf
repeats to thee thy mother's grief.
kill not the moth nor butterfly,
for the last judgment draweth nigh.
he who shall train the horse to war
shall never pass the polar bar.
the beggar's dog and widow's cat,
feed them,and thou wilt grow fat.
the gnat that sings h** summer's song
po**on gets from slander's tongue.
the po**on of the snake and newt
** the sweat of envy's foot.
the po**on of the honey-bee
** the art**t's jealousy.
the prince's robes and beggar's rags
are toadstools on the m**er's bags.
a truth that's told with bad intent
beats all the lies you can invent.
it ** right it should be so:
man was made for joy and woe;and when th** we rightly know
through the world we safely go.
joy and woe are woven fine,
a clothing for the soul divine.
under every grief and pine
runs a joy with silken twine.
the babe ** than swaddling bands,
throughout all these human lands;tools were made and born were hands,
every farmer understands.
every tear from every eye
becomes a babe in eternity;th** ** caught by females bright
and returned to its own delight.
the bleat,the bark,bellow,and roar
are w**es that beat on he**en's shore.
the babe that weeps the rod beneath
writes revenge!in realms of death.
the beggar's rags fluttering in air
does to rags the he**ens tear.
the soldier armed with sword and gun
palsied strikes the summer's sun.
the poor man's farthing ** worth than all the gold on afric's shore.
one mite wrung from the labourer's hands
shall buy and sell the m**er's lands,
or if protected from on high
does that whole nation sell and buy.
he who mocks the infant's faith
shall be mocked in age and death.
he who shall teach the child to doubt
the rotting gr**e shall ne'er get out.
he who respects the infant's faith
triumphs over hell and death.
the child's toys and the old man's reasons
are the fruits of the two seasons.
the questioner who sits so sly
shall never know how to reply.
he who replies to words of doubt
doth put the light of knowledge out.
the strongest po**on ever known
came from caesar's laurel crown.
nought can deform the human race
like to the armour's iron brace.
when gold and gems adorn the plough
to peaceful arts shall envy bow.
a riddle or the cricket's cry
** to doubt a fit reply.
the emmet's inch and eagle's mile
make lame philosophy to smile.
he who doubts from what he sees
will ne'er believe,do what you please.
if the sun and moon should doubt,
they'd immediately go out.
to be in a passion you good may do,
but no good if a passion ** in you.
the whore and gambler,by the state
licensed,build that nation's fate.
the harlot's cry from street to street
shall we**e old england's winding sheet.
the winner's shout,the loser's curse,
dance before dead england's hearse.
every night and every morn
some to m**ery are born.
every morn and every night
some are born to sweet delight.
some are born to sweet delight,
some are born to endless night.
we are led to believe a lie
when we see not through the eye
which was born in a night to per**h in a night,
when the soul slept in beams of light.
god appears,and god ** light
to those poor souls who dwell in night,
but does a human form d**play
to those who dwell in realms of day.