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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=341894" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>A Ballad of Burdens</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">A Ballad of Burdens </div><div style="margin:10px 0"> The burden of fair women. Vain delight,<br> And love self-slain in some sweet shameful way,<br> And sorrowful old age that comes by night<br> As a thief comes that has no heart by day,<br> And change that finds fair cheeks and leaves them grey,<br> And weariness that keeps awake for hire,<br> And grief that says what pleasure used to say;<br> This is the end of every man's desire. </div><div style="margin:10px 0"> The burden of bought kisses. This is sore,<br> A burden without fruit in childbearing;<br> Between the nightfall and the dawn threescore,<br> Threescore between the dawn and evening.<br> The shuddering in thy lips, the shuddering<br> In thy sad eyelids tremulous like fire,<br> Makes love seem shameful and a wretched thing.<br> This is the end of every man's desire. </div><div style="margin:10px 0"> The burden of sweet speeches. Nay, kneel down,<br> Cover thy head, and weep; for verily<br> These market-men that buy thy white and brown<br> In the last days shall take no thought for thee.<br> In the last days like earth thy face shall be,<br> Yea, like sea-marsh made thick with brine and mire,<br> Sad with sick leavings of the sterile sea.<br> This is the end of every man's desire. </div><div style="margin:10px 0"> The burden of long living. Thou shalt fear<br> Waking, and sleeping mourn upon thy bed;<br> And say at night &quot;Would God the day were here,&quot;<br> And say at dawn &quot;Would God the day were dead.&quot;<br> With weary days thou shalt be clothed and fed,<br> And wear remorse of heart for thine attire,<br> Pain for thy girdle and sorrow upon thine head;<br> This is the end of every man's desire. </div><div style="margin:10px 0"> The burden of bright colours. Thou shalt see<br> Gold tarnished, and the grey above the green;<br> And as the thing thou seest thy face shall be,<br> And no more as the thing beforetime seen.<br> And thou shalt say of mercy &quot;It hath been,&quot;<br> And living, watch the old lips and loves expire,<br> And talking, tears shall take thy breath between;<br> This is the end of every man's desire. </div><div style="margin:10px 0"> The burden of sad sayings. In that day<br> Thou shalt tell all thy days and hours, and tell<br> Thy times and ways and words of love, and say<br> How one was dear and one desirable,<br> And sweet was life to hear and sweet to smell,<br> But now with lights reverse the old hours retire<br> And the last hour is shod with fire from hell;<br> This is the end of every man's desire. </div><div style="margin:10px 0"> The burden of four seasons. Rain in spring,<br> White rain and wind among the tender trees;<br> A summer of green sorrows gathering,<br> Rank autumn in a mist of miseries,<br> With sad face set towards the year, that sees<br> The charred ash drop out of the dropping pyre,<br> And winter wan with many maladies;<br> This is the end of every man's desire. </div><div style="margin:10px 0"> The burden of dead faces. Out of sight<br> And out of love, beyond the reach of hands,<br> Changed in the changing of the dark and light,<br> They walk and weep about the barren lands<br> Where no seed is nor any garner stands,<br> Where in short breaths the doubtful days respire,<br> And time's turned glass lets through the sighing sands;<br> This is the end of every man's desire. </div><div style="margin:10px 0"> The burden of much gladness. Life and lust<br> Forsake thee, and the face of thy delight;<br> And underfoot the heavy hour strews dust,<br> And overhead strange weathers burn and bite;<br> And where the red was, lo the bloodless white,<br> And where the truth was, the likeness of a liar,<br> And where the day was, the likeness of the night;<br> This is the end of every man's desire. </div><div style="margin:10px 0"> L'ENVOY </div><div style="margin:10px 0"> Princes, and ye whom pleasure quickeneth,<br> Heed well this rhyme before your pleasure tire;<br> For life is sweet, but after life is death.<br> This is the end of every man's desire.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Algernon+Charles+Swinburne">Algernon Charles Swinburne</a><div class=q>
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 The burden of fair women. Vain delight,
 And love self-slain in some sweet shameful way,
 And sorrowful old age that comes by night
 As a thief comes that has no heart by day,
 And change that finds fair cheeks and leaves th..."></div>
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