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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=345641" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>A Woman's Complaint</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">I know that deep within your heart of hearts<br>You hold me shrined apart from common things,<br>And that my step, my voice, can bring to you<br>A gladness that no other pleasure brings.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And yet, dear love, through all the weary days<br>You never speak one word of tenderness,<br>Nor stroke my hair, nor softly clasp my hand<br>Within your own in loving mute caress.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">You think, perhaps, I should be all content<br>To know so well the loving place I hold<br>Within your life, and so you do not dream<br>How much I long to hear the story told.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">You cannot know, when we two sit alone,<br>And tranquil thoughts within your mind are stirred,<br>My heart is crying like a tire child<br>For one fond look, one gentle, loving word.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">It may be when your eyes look into mine<br>You only say, 'How dear she is to me!'<br>Oh, could I read it in you softened glance.<br>How radiant this plain world would be! </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Perhaps, sometimes, you breathe a secret prayer<br>That choicest blessings unto me be given;<br>But if you said aloud, 'God bless thee, dear!'<br>I should not ask a greater boon from Heaven.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I weary sometimes of the rugged way;<br>But should you say, 'Through thee my life is sweet,'<br>The dreariest desert that our path could cross<br>Would suddenly grow green beneath my feet.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Tis not the boundless waters ocean holds <br>That give refreshment to the thirsty flowers,<br>But just the drops that, rising to the skies,<br>From thence descend in softly falling showers.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">What matter that our granaries are filled<br>With all the richest harvest's golden stores,<br>If we who own them cannot enter in,<br>But famished stand before the close-barred doors?</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And so 'tis sad that those who should be rich<br>In that true love that crowns our earthly lot,<br>Go praying with white lips from day to day<br>For love's sweet tokens, and receive them not.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Anonymous+Americas">Anonymous Americas</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=345641" data-title="A Woman's Complaint de Anonymous Americas" data-description="I know that deep within your heart of hearts
You hold me shrined apart from common things,
And that my step, my voice, can bring to you
A gladness that no other pleasure brings.

And yet, dear love, through all the weary days
You never speak one w..."></div>
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