<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=343199" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Last Judgment</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">With beating heart and lagging feet,<br>Lord, I approach the Judgment-seat.<br>All bring hither the fruits of toil,<br>Measures of wheat and measures of oil;</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Gold and jewels and precious wine;<br>No hands bare like these hands of mine.<br>The treasure I have nor weighs nor gleams:<br>Lord, I can bring you only dreams.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">In days of spring, when my blood ran high,<br>I lay in the grass and looked at the sky,<br>And dreamed that my love lay by my side--<br>My love was false, and then she died.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">All the heat of the summer through,<br>I dreamed she lived, that her heart was true<br>Throughout the hours of the day I slept,<br>But woke in the night, at times, and wept.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The nights and days, they went and came,<br>I lay in shadow and dreamed of fame;<br>And heard men passing the lonely place,<br>Who marked me not and my hidden face.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">My strength waxed faint, my hair grew grey;<br>Nothing but dreams by night and day.<br>Some men sicken, with wine and food; <br>I starved on dreams, and found them good.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">* * * * * * *</div><div style="margin:10px 0">This is the tale I have to tell--<br>Show the fellow the way to hell.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Amy+Levy">Amy Levy</a><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=343199" data-title="The Last Judgment de Amy Levy" data-description="With beating heart and lagging feet, Lord, I approach the Judgment-seat. All bring hither the fruits of toil, Measures of wheat and measures of oil; Gold and jewels and precious wine; No hands bare like these hands of mine. The treasure I have no..."></div> </div> </div>

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