<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=117143" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Riddle 2</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">EMPRESS of Art, for thee I twine<br>This wreath with all too slender skill.<br>Forgive my Muse each halting line,<br>And for the deed accept the will!</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> * * * *</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>O day of tears! Whence comes this spectre grim,<br>Parting, like Death's cold river, souls that love?<br>Is not he bound to thee, as thou to him,<br>By vows, unwhispered here, yet heard above?</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And still it lives, that keen and heavenward flame,<br>Lives in his eye, and trembles in his tone:<br>And these wild words of fury but proclaim<br>A heart that beats for thee, for thee alone!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">But all is lost: that mighty mind o'erthrown,<br>Like sweet bells jangled, piteous sight to see!<br>"Doubt that the stars are fire," so runs his moan,<br>"Doubt Truth herself, but not my love for thee!"</div><div style="margin:10px 0">A sadder vision yet: thine aged sire<br>Shaming his hoary locks with treacherous wile!<br>And dost thou now doubt Truth to be a liar?<br>And wilt thou die, that hast forgot to smile?</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Nay, get thee hence! Leave all thy winsome ways<br>And the faint fragrance of thy scattered flowers:<br>In holy silence wait the appointed days,<br>And weep away the leaden-footed hours.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Lewis+Carroll">Lewis Carroll</a> from <i>Four Riddles</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=117143" data-title="Riddle 2 de Lewis Carroll" data-description="EMPRESS of Art, for thee I twine/This wreath with all too slender skill./Forgive my Muse each halting line,/And for the deed accept the will!/ * * * *//O day of tears! Whence comes this spectre grim,/Parting, like Death's cold river, souls that lo..."></div> </div> </div>

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