<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=115587" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Past Days</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Tis strange to think, there was a time<br>When mirth was not an empty name,<br>When laughter really cheered the heart,<br>And frequent smiles unbidden came,<br>And tears of grief would only flow<br>In sympathy for others' woe;<br>When speech expressed the inward thought,<br>And heart to kindred heart was bare,<br>And Summer days were far too short<br>For all the pleasures crowded there,<br>And silence, solitude, and rest,<br>Now welcome to the weary breast</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Were all unprized, uncourted then<br>And all the joy one spirit showed,<br>The other deeply felt again;<br>And friendship like a river flowed,<br>Constant and strong its silent course,<br>For nought withstood its gentle force:</div><div style="margin:10px 0">When night, the holy time of peace,<br>Was dreaded as the parting hour;<br>When speech and mirth at once must cease,<br>And Silence must resume her power;<br>Though ever free from pains and woes,<br>She only brought us calm repose;</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And when the blessed dawn again<br>Brought daylight to the blushing skies,<br>We woke, and not reluctant then,<br>To joyless labour did we rise;<br>But full of hope, and glad and gay,<br>We welcomed the returning day.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Anne+Bront%C3%AB">Anne 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=115587" data-title="Past Days de Anne Brontë" data-description="Tis strange to think, there was a time/When mirth was not an empty name,/When laughter really cheered the heart,/And frequent smiles unbidden came,/And tears of grief would only flow/In sympathy for others' woe;/When speech expressed the inward th..."></div> </div> </div>

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