<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=115526" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Winter Stores</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">We take from life one little share,<br>And say that this shall be<br>A space, redeemed from toil and care,<br>From tears and sadness free.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And, haply, Death unstrings his bow<br>And Sorrow stands apart,<br>And, for a little while, we know<br>The sunshine of the heart.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Existence seems a summer eve,<br>Warm, soft, and full of peace;<br>Our free, unfettered feelings give<br>The soul its full release.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">A moment, then, it takes the power,<br>To call up thoughts that throw<br>Around that charmed and hallowed hour,<br>This life's divinest glow.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">But Time, though viewlessly it flies,<br>And slowly, will not stay;<br>Alike, through clear and clouded skies,<br>It cleaves its silent way.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Alike the bitter cup of grief,<br>Alike the draught of bliss,<br>Its progress leaves but moment brief<br>For baffled lips to kiss.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The sparkling draught is dried away,<br>The hour of rest is gone,<br>And urgent voices, round us, say,<br>' Ho, lingerer, hasten on !'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And has the soul, then, only gained,<br>From this brief time of ease,<br>A moment's rest, when overstrained,<br>One hurried glimpse of peace ?</div><div style="margin:10px 0">No; while the sun shone kindly o'er us,<br>And flowers bloomed round our feet,­<br>While many a bud of joy before us<br>Unclosed its petals sweet,­</div><div style="margin:10px 0">An unseen work within was plying;<br>Like honey-seeking bee,<br>From flower to flower, unwearied, flying,<br>Laboured one faculty,­</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Thoughtful for Winter's future sorrow,<br>Its gloom and scarcity;<br>Prescient to-day, of want to-morrow,<br>Toiled quiet Memory.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Tis she that from each transient pleasure<br>Extracts a lasting good;<br>'Tis she that finds, in summer, treasure<br>To serve for winter's food.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And when Youth's summer day is vanished,<br>And Age brings Winter's stress,<br>Her stores, with hoarded sweets replenished,<br>Life's evening hours will bless.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Charlotte+Bront%C3%AB">Charlotte Brontë</a> from <i>Poems by Currer, Ellis, and Acton Bell</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=115526" data-title="Winter Stores de Charlotte Brontë" data-description="We take from life one little share,/And say that this shall be/A space, redeemed from toil and care,/From tears and sadness free./And, haply, Death unstrings his bow/And Sorrow stands apart,/And, for a little while, we know/The sunshine of the hea..."></div> </div> </div>

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