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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=344207" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>A Portrait Of 1783</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Your hair and chin are like the hair<br>And chin Burne-Jones's ladies wear;<br>You were unfashionably fair<br>In '83;<br>And sad you were when girls are gay,<br>You read a book about Le vrai<br>Merite de l'homme, alone in May.<br>What CAN it be,<br>Le vrai merite de l'homme? Not gold,<br>Not titles that are bought and sold,<br>Not wit that flashes and is cold,<br>But Virtue merely!<br>Instructed by Jean-Jacques Rousseau<br>(And Jean-Jacques, surely, ought to know),<br>You bade the crowd of foplings go,<br>You glanced severely,<br>Dreaming beneath the spreading shade<br>Of 'that vast hat the Graces made;'<br>So Rouget sang--while yet he played<br>With courtly rhyme,<br>And hymned great Doisi's red perruque,<br>And Nice's eyes, and Zulme's look,<br>And dead canaries, ere he shook<br>The sultry time<br>With strains like thunder. Loud and low<br>Methinks I hear the murmur grow,<br>The tramp of men that come and go<br>With fire and sword.<br>They war against the quick and dead,<br>Their flying feet are dashed with red,<br>As theirs the vintaging that tread<br>Before the Lord.<br>O head unfashionably fair,<br>What end was thine, for all thy care?<br>We only see thee dreaming there:<br>We cannot see<br>The breaking of thy vision, when<br>The Rights of Man were lords of men,<br>When virtue won her own again<br>In '93.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Andrew+Lang">Andrew Lang</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=344207" data-title="A Portrait Of 1783 de Andrew Lang" data-description="Your hair and chin are like the hair
And chin Burne-Jones's ladies wear;
You were unfashionably fair
In '83;
And sad you were when girls are gay,
You read a book about Le vrai
Merite de l'homme, alone in May.
What CAN it be,
Le vrai merite de l'ho..."></div>
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