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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=342208" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Builders of Ruins</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">We build with strength and deep tower wall<br>That shall be shattered thus and thus.<br>And fair and great are court and hall,<br>But how fair--this is not for us,<br>Who know the lack that lurks in all.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">We know, we know how all too bright<br>The hues are that our painting wears,<br>And how the marble gleams too white;--<br>We speak in unknown tongues, the years<br>Interpret everything aright,</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And crown with weeds our pride of towers,<br>And warm our marble through with sun,<br>And break our pavements through with flowers,<br>With an Amen when all is done,<br>Knowing these perfect things of ours.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">O days, we ponder, left alone,<br>Like children in their lonely hour,<br>And in our secrets keep your own,<br>As seeds the color of the flower.<br>To-day they are not all unknown,</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The stars that 'twixt the rise and fall,<br>Like relic-seers, shall one by one<br>Stand musing o'er our empty hall;<br>And setting moons shall brood upon<br>The frscoes of our inward wall.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And when some midsummer shall be,<br>Hither shall come some little one<br>(Dusty with bloom of flowers is he),<br>Sit on a ruin i' the late long sun,<br>And think, one foot upon his knee.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And where they wrought, these lives of ours,<br>So many-worded, many-souled,<br>A north-west wind will take the towers,<br>And dark with color, sunny and cold,<br>Will range alone among the flowers.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And here or there, at our desire,<br>The little clamorous owl shall sit,<br>Through her still time, and we aspire<br>To make a law (and know not it)<br>Unto the life of a wild briar.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Our purpose is distinct and dear,<br>Though from our open eyes 'tis hidden,<br>Thou, time to come, shall make it clear,<br>Undoing our work; we are children chidden<br>With pity and smiles of many a year.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">We shall allot the praise, and guess<br>What part is yours and what is ours?--<br>O years that certainly will bless<br>Our flowers with fruits, our seeds with flowers,<br>With ruin all our perfectness.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Be patient, Time, of our delays,<br>Too happy hopes, and wasted fears,<br>Our faithful ways, our wilful ways;<br>Solace our labors, O our seers<br>The seasons, and our bards the days;</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And make our pause and silence brim<br>With the shrill children's play, and sweets<br>Of those pathetic flowers and dim,<br>Of those eternal flowers my Keats,<br>Dying, felt growing over him!</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Alice+Meynell">Alice Meynell</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=342208" data-title="Builders of Ruins de Alice Meynell" data-description="We build with strength and deep tower wall
That shall be shattered thus and thus.
And fair and great are court and hall,
But how fair--this is not for us,
Who know the lack that lurks in all.

We know, we know how all too bright
The hues are that ..."></div>
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