<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=115805" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Ante Aram</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Before thy shrine I kneel, an unknown worshipper,<br> Chanting strange hymns to thee and sorrowful litanies,<br>Incense of dirges, prayers that are as holy myrrh.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Ah, goddess, on thy throne of tears and faint low sighs,<br> Weary at last to theeward come the feet that err,<br>And empty hearts grown tired of the world's vanities.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">How fair this cool deep silence to a wanderer<br> Deaf with the roar of winds along the open skies!<br>Sweet, after sting and bitter kiss of sea-water,</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The pale Lethean wine within thy chalices!<br> I come before thee, I, too tired wanderer,<br>To heed the horror of the shrine, the distant cries,</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And evil whispers in the gloom, or the swift whirr<br> Of terrible wings - I, least of all thy votaries,<br>With a faint hope to see the scented darkness stir,</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And, parting, frame within its quiet mysteries<br> One face, with lips than autumn-lilies tenderer,<br>And voice more sweet than the far plaint of viols is,</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> Or the soft moan of any grey-eyed lute-player.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Rupert+Brooke">Rupert Brooke</a><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=115805" data-title="Ante Aram de Rupert Brooke" data-description="Before thy shrine I kneel, an unknown worshipper,/ Chanting strange hymns to thee and sorrowful litanies,/Incense of dirges, prayers that are as holy myrrh./Ah, goddess, on thy throne of tears and faint low sighs,/ Weary at last to theeward come t..."></div> </div> </div>

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