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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=342072" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Tenebrae</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">At the chill high tide of the night,<br> At the turn of the fluctuant hours,<br>When the waters of time are at height,<br>In a vision arose on my sight<br> The kingdoms of earth and the powers.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">In a dream without lightening of eyes<br> I saw them, children of earth,<br>Nations and races arise,<br>Each one after his wise,<br> Signed with the sign of his birth.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Sound was none of their feet,<br> Light was none of their faces;<br>In their lips breath was not, or heat,<br>But a subtle murmur and sweet<br> As of water in wan waste places.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Pale as from passionate years,<br> Years unassuaged of desire,<br>Sang they soft in mine ears,<br>Crowned with jewels of tears,<br> Girt with girdles of fire.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">A slow song beaten and broken,<br> As it were from the dust and the dead,<br>As of spirits athirst unsloken,<br>As of things unspeakable spoken,<br> As of tears unendurable shed.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">In the manifold sound remote,<br> In the molten murmur of song,<br>There was but a sharp sole note<br>Alive on the night and afloat,<br> The cry of the world's heart's wrong.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">As the sea in the strait sea-caves,<br> The sound came straitened and strange;<br>A noise of the rending of graves,<br>A tidal thunder of waves,<br> The music of death and of change.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">&quot;We have waited so long,&quot; they say,<br> &quot;For a sound of the God, for a breath,<br>For a ripple of the refluence of day,<br>For the fresh bright wind of the fray,<br> For the light of the sunrise of death.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">&quot;We have prayed not, we, to be strong,<br> To fulfil the desire of our eyes;<br>- Howbeit they have watched for it long,<br>Watched, and the night did them wrong,<br> Yet they say not of day, shall it rise?</div><div style="margin:10px 0">&quot;They are fearful and feeble with years,<br> Yet they doubt not of day if it be;<br>Yea, blinded and beaten with tears,<br>Yea, sick with foresight of fears,<br> Yet a little, and hardly, they see.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">&quot;We pray not, we, for the palm,<br> For the fruit ingraffed of the fight,<br>For the blossom of peace and the balm,<br>And the tender triumph and calm<br> Of crownless and weaponless right.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">&quot;We pray not, we, to behold<br> The latter august new birth,<br>The young day's purple and gold,<br>And divine, and rerisen as of old,<br> The sun-god Freedom on earth.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">&quot;Peace, and world's honour, and fame,<br> We have sought after none of these things;<br>The light of a life like flame<br>Passing, the storm of a name<br> Shaking the strongholds of kings:</div><div style="margin:10px 0">&quot;Nor, fashioned of fire and of air,<br> The splendour that burns on his head<br>Who was chiefest in ages that were,<br>Whose breath blew palaces bare,<br> Whose eye shone tyrannies dead:</div><div style="margin:10px 0">&quot;All these things in your day<br> Ye shall see, O our sons, and shall hold<br>Surely; but we, in the grey<br>Twilight, for one thing we pray,<br> In that day though our memories be cold:</div><div style="margin:10px 0">&quot;To feel on our brows as we wait<br> An air of the morning, a breath<br>From the springs of the east, from the gate<br>Whence freedom issues, and fate,<br> Sorrow, and triumph, and death</div><div style="margin:10px 0">&quot;From a land whereon time hath not trod,<br> Where the spirit is bondless and bare,<br>And the world's rein breaks, and the rod,<br>And the soul of a man, which is God,<br> He adores without altar or prayer:</div><div style="margin:10px 0">For alone of herself and her right<br> She takes, and alone gives grace:<br>And the colours of things lose light,<br>And the forms, in the limitless white<br> Splendour of space without space:</div><div style="margin:10px 0">&quot;And the blossom of man from his tomb<br> Yearns open, the flower that survives;<br>And the shadows of changes consume<br>In the colourless passionate bloom<br> Of the live light made of our lives:</div><div style="margin:10px 0">&quot;Seeing each life given is a leaf<br> Of the manifold multiform flower,<br>And the least among these, and the chief,<br>As an ear in the red-ripe sheaf<br> Stored for the harvesting hour.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">&quot;O spirit of man, most holy,<br> The measure of things and the root,<br>In our summers and winters a lowly<br>Seed, putting forth of them slowly<br> Thy supreme blossom and fruit;</div><div style="margin:10px 0">&quot;In thy sacred and perfect year,<br> The souls that were parcel of thee<br>In the labour and life of us here<br>Shall be rays of thy sovereign sphere,<br> Springs of thy motion shall be.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">&quot;There is the fire that was man,<br> The light that was love, and the breath<br>That was hope ere deliverance began,<br>And the wind that was life for a span,<br> And the birth of new things, which is death</div><div style="margin:10px 0">There, whosoever had light,<br> And, having, for men's sake gave;<br>All that warred against night;<br>All that were found in the fight<br> Swift to be slain and to save;</div><div style="margin:10px 0">&quot;Undisbranched of the storms that disroot us,<br> Of the lures that enthrall unenticed;<br>The names that exalt and transmute us;<br>The blood-bright splendour of Brutus,<br> The snow-bright splendour of Christ.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">&quot;There all chains are undone;<br> Day there seems but as night;<br>Spirit and sense are as one<br>In the light not of star nor of sun;<br> Liberty there is the light.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">She, sole mother and maker,<br> Stronger than sorrow, than strife;<br>Deathless, though death overtake her;<br>Faithful, though faith should forsake her;<br> Spirit, and saviour, and life.&quot;</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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<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=342072" data-title="Tenebrae de Algernon Charles Swinburne" data-description="At the chill high tide of the night,
 At the turn of the fluctuant hours,
When the waters of time are at height,
In a vision arose on my sight
 The kingdoms of earth and the powers.

In a dream without lightening of eyes
 I saw them, children of e..."></div>
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