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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=116596" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>A Room</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Whitewashed or panelled, filled with books, with light,<br>With flowers, with trifles sacred to the heart,<br>And work so pure and sweet that morning-dew<br>Might settle there and feel itself at home<br>As though 'mid garden fragrance; while the carol<br>Of birds streams through the window joyously,<br>Mistaking that abode of peace and love<br>For their own woodland haunts! And in that room<br>A woman's dainty hands ever at work,<br>A woman's loving heart ever awake<br>For others' happiness, a woman's thought<br>Alive in tender memories that embalm<br>The past in mute forgiveness. Enter then<br>As 'twere a sanctuary, lay aside<br>Thy load of care, and yield thy weary soul<br>To the deep sense of comfort reigning there.<br>Not many words--nay, not a single word--<br>Need tremble through the stillness, not a sigh<br>With untoward avowal break the peace<br>That folds thee to its heart and asks no question.<br>Such perfect peace pervades a room like this,<br>'Twould seem the raging storm, the roaring sea,<br>Might lay themselves to rest upon its threshold.<br>The ghosts that haunt it come in guise of angels,<br>With rosy finger-tips laid on their lips,<br>To hush our voices to the whispered tones<br>Of children's prayers. Enter, thou weary wanderer,<br>Enter! and have no fear, for pain and anguish<br>Have long been wept away, and have but left<br>Their precious perfume and the healing balm<br>Of self-forgetfulness to comfort thee!</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Carmen+Sylva">Carmen Sylva</a><div class=q>
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<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=116596" data-title="A Room de Carmen Sylva" data-description="Whitewashed or panelled, filled with books, with light,/With flowers, with trifles sacred to the heart,/And work so pure and sweet that morning-dew/Might settle there and feel itself at home/As though 'mid garden fragrance; while the carol/Of bird..."></div>
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