Click in the field, then press CTRL+C to copy the HTML code
<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=115136" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Lines to Frederika Bremer</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">"Hereafter, when I no more belong to earth, I should love to return to<br> it as a spirit, and impart to men the deepest of that which I have<br> suffered and enjoyed, lived and loved. And no one need fear me; should<br> I come in the midnight hour to a striving and unquiet spirit, it would<br> be only to make it more quiet, its night-lamp burn more brightly, and<br> myself its friend and sister." -- Miss Bremmer's Letter.<br> <br> Hereafter! -- nay, thou has thy wish e'en here;<br>  To many a striving spirit dost thou come,<br>  Sweet lady, from thy far-off northern home,<br> Like a blest presence from another sphere,<br>  And love and faith, the night-lamps of the soul,<br>  Have burned with brighter flame at thy control.<br> <br> A friend and sister art thou now to those<br>  Who weep o'erburdened with life's weary load,<br>  And faint and toil-worn tread the desert road;<br> To them thou beckonest from thy high repose:<br>  Thou'st gained that steep where endless day appears,<br>  That faith whose followers are baptized with tears.<br> <br> There came no voices from thy distant shore;<br>  We heard no echo of thy country's lyres,<br>  We saw no gleaming of her household fires;<br> A cloud had hung thy land and language o'er,<br>  Until thy pictured thoughts broke on our eyes<br>  Like an Aurora of thy native skies.<br> <br> Thy name is loved through all our fair wide land:<br>  Where the log-cabins of our western woods<br>  Are scattered through the dim old solitudes,<br> Where, glowing with young life, our cities stand,<br>  There go thy white-winged messengers, as went<br>  Of old the angels to the patriarch's tent.<br> <br> My harp is tuneless and unknown to fame;<br>  A few weak chords, alas! chance-strung and frail,<br>  O'er which sweeps fitfully the passing gale.<br> Would it indeed were worthier of its theme,<br>  That it might bear across the distant sea<br>  The homage of unnumbered hearts to thee.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Anne+Lynch+Botta">Anne Lynch Botta</a> from <i>Poems</i><div class=q>
<img src="https://www.citatepedia.ro/g/32share.png" style="float:left" alt="Share">
<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=115136" data-title="Lines to Frederika Bremer de Anne Lynch Botta" data-description=""Hereafter, when I no more belong to earth, I should love to return to/ it as a spirit, and impart to men the deepest of that which I have/ suffered and enjoyed, lived and loved. And no one need fear me; should/ I come in the midnight hour to a st..."></div>
</div>
</div>