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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=342079" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Garden of Prosperine</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Here, where the world is quiet,<br>Here, where all trouble seems<br>Dead winds' and spent waves' riot<br>In doubtful dreams of dreams;<br>I watch the green field growing<br>For reaping folk and sowing,<br>For harvest-time and mowing,<br>A sleepy world of streams. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">I am tired of tears and laughter,<br>And men that laugh and weep;<br>Of what may come hereafter<br>For men that sow to reap:<br>I am weary of days and hours,<br>Blown buds of barren flowers,<br>Desires and dreams and powers<br>And everything but sleep. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Here life has death for neighbour,<br>And far from eye or ear<br>Wan waves and wet winds labour,<br>Weak ships and spirits steer;<br>They drive adrift, and whither<br>They wot not who make thither;<br>But no such winds blow hither,<br>And no such things grow here. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">No growth of moor or coppice,<br>No heather-flower or vine,<br>But bloomless buds of poppies,<br>Green grapes of Proserpine,<br>Pale beds of blowing rushes,<br>Where no leaf blooms or blushes<br>Save this whereout she crushes<br>For dead men deadly wine. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Pale, without name or number,<br>In fruitless fields of corn,<br>They bow themselves and slumber<br>All night till light is born;<br>And like a soul belated,<br>In hell and heaven unmated,<br>By cloud and mist abated<br>Comes out of darkness morn. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Though one were strong as seven,<br>He too with death shall dwell,<br>Nor wake with wings in heaven,<br>Nor weep for pains in hell;<br>Though one were fair as roses,<br>His beauty clouds and closes;<br>And well though love reposes,<br>In the end it is not well. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Pale, beyond porch and portal,<br>Crowned with calm leaves, she stands<br>Who gathers all things mortal<br>With cold immortal hands;<br>Her languid lips are sweeter<br>Than love's who fears to greet her<br>To men that mix and meet her<br>From many times and lands. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">She waits for each and other,<br>She waits for all men born;<br>Forgets the earth her mother,<br>The life of fruits and corn;<br>And spring and seed and swallow<br>Take wing for her and follow<br>Where summer song rings hollow<br>And flowers are put to scorn. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">There go the loves that wither,<br>The old loves with wearier wings;<br>And all dead years draw thither,<br>And all disastrous things;<br>Dead dreams of days forsaken,<br>Blind buds that snows have shaken,<br>Wild leaves that winds have taken,<br>Red strays of ruined springs. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">We are not sure of sorrow,<br>And joy was never sure;<br>Today will die tomorrow;<br>Time stoops to no man's lure;<br>And love, grown faint and fretful,<br>With lips but half regretful<br>Sighs, and with eyes forgetful<br>Weeps that no loves endure. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">From too much love of living,<br>From hope and fear set free,<br>We thank with brief thanksgiving<br>Whatever gods may be That no life lives for ever;</div><div style="margin:10px 0">That dead men rise up never;<br>That even the weariest river<br>Winds somewhere safe to sea. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Then star nor sun shall waken,<br>Nor any change of light:<br>Nor sound of waters shaken,<br>Nor any sound or sight:<br>Nor wintry leaves nor vernal,<br>Nor days nor things diurnal;<br>Only the sleep eternal<br>In an eternal night.</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=342079" data-title="The Garden of Prosperine de Algernon Charles Swinburne" data-description="Here, where the world is quiet,
Here, where all trouble seems
Dead winds' and spent waves' riot
In doubtful dreams of dreams;
I watch the green field growing
For reaping folk and sowing,
For harvest-time and mowing,
A sleepy world of streams. 

I ..."></div>
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