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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=348183" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Land Of Pallas</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Methought I journeyed along ways that led for ever<br>Throughout a happy land where strife and care were dead,<br>And life went by me flowing like a placid river<br>Past sandy eyots where the shifting shoals make head.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">A land where beauty dwelt supreme, and right, the donor<br>Of peaceful days; a land of equal gifts and deeds,<br>Of limitless fair fields and plenty had with honour;<br>A land of kindly tillage and untroubled meads,</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Of gardens, and great fields, and dreaming rose-wreathed alleys,<br>Wherein at dawn and dusk the vesper sparrows sang;<br>Of cities set far off on hills down vista'd valleys,<br>And floods so vast and old, men wist not whence they sprang,</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Of groves, and forest depths, and fountains softly welling,<br>And roads that ran soft-shadowed past the open doors,<br>Of mighty palaces and many a lofty dwelling,<br>Where all men entered and no master trod their floors.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">A land of lovely speech, where every tone was fashioned<br>By generations of emotion high and sweet,<br>Of thought and deed and bearing lofty and impassioned;<br>A land of golden calm, grave forms, and fretless feet.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And every mode and saying of that land gave token<br>Of limits where no death or evil fortune fell,<br>And men lived out long lives in proud content unbroken,<br>For there no man was rich, none poor, but all were well.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And all the earth was common, and no base contriving<br>Of money of coined gold was needed there or known,<br>But all men wrought together without greed or striving,<br>And all the store of all to each man was his own.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">From all that busy land, grey town, and peaceful village,<br>Where never jar was heard, nor wail, nor cry of strife,<br>From every laden stream and all the fields of tillage,<br>Arose the murmur and the kindly hum of life.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">At morning to the fields came forth the men, each neighbour<br>Hand linked to other, crowned, with wreaths upon their hair,<br>And all day long with joy they gave their hands to labour,<br>Moving at will, unhastened, each man to his share.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">At noon the women came, the tall fair women, bearing<br>Baskets of wicker in their ample hands for each,<br>And learned the day's brief tale, and how the fields were faring,<br>And blessed them with their lofty beauty and blithe speech.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And when the great day's toil was over, and the shadows<br>Grew with the flocking stars, the sound of festival<br>Rose in each city square, and all the country meadows,<br>Palace, and paven court, and every rustic hall.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Beside smooth streams, where alleys and green gardens meeting<br>Ran downward to the flood with marble steps, a throng<br>Came forth of all the folk, at even, gaily greeting,<br>With echo of sweet converse, jest, and stately song.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">In all their great fair cities there was neither seeking<br>For power of gold, nor greed of lust, nor desperate pain<br>Of multitudes that starve, or, in hoarse anger breaking,<br>Beat at the doors of princes, break and fall in vain.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">But all the children of that peaceful land, like brothers,<br>Lofty of spirit, wise, and ever set to learn<br>The chart of neighbouring souls, the bent and need of others,<br>Thought only of good deeds, sweet speech, and just return.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And there there was no prison, power of arms, nor palace,<br>Where prince or judge held sway, for none was needed there;<br>Long ages since the very names of fraud and malice<br>Had vanished from men's tongues, and died from all men's care.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And there there were no bonds of contract, deed, or marriage,<br>No oath, nor any form, to make the word more sure,<br>For no man dreamed of hurt, dishonour, or miscarriage,<br>Where every thought was truth, and every heart was pure.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">There were no castes of rich or poor, of slave or master,<br>Where all were brothers, and the curse of gold was dead,<br>But all that wise fair race to kindlier ends and vaster<br>Moved on together with the same majestic tread.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And all the men and women of that land were fairer<br>Than even the mightiest of our meaner race can be;<br>The men like gentle children, great of limb, yet rarer<br>For wisdom and high thought, like kings for majesty.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And all the women through great ages of bright living,<br>Grown goodlier of stature, strong, and subtly wise,<br>Stood equal with the men, calm counsellors, ever giving<br>The fire and succour of proud faith and dauntless eyes.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And as I journeyed in that land I reached a ruin,<br>The gateway of a lonely and secluded waste,<br>A phantom of forgotten time and ancient doing,<br>Eaten by age and violence, crumbled and defaced.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">On its grim outer walls the ancient world's sad glories<br>Were recorded in fire; upon its inner stone,<br>Drawn by dead hands, I saw, in tales and tragic stories,<br>The woe and sickness of an age of fear made known.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And lo, in that grey storehouse, fallen to dust and rotten,<br>Lay piled the traps and engines of forgotten greed,<br>The tomes of codes and canons, long disused, forgotten,<br>The robes and sacred books of many a vanished creed.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">An old grave man I found, white-haired and gently spoken,<br>Who, as I questioned, answered with a smile benign,<br>'Long years have come and gone since these poor gauds were broken,<br>Broken and banished from a life made more divine.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'But still we keep them stored as once our sires deemed fitting,<br>The symbol of dark days and lives remote and strange,<br>Lest o'er the minds of any there should come unwitting<br>The thought of some new order and the lust of change.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'If any grow disturbed, we bring them gently hither,<br>To read the world's grim record and the sombre lore<br>Massed in these pitiless vaults, and they returning thither,<br>Bear with them quieter thoughts, and make for change no more.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And thence I journeyed on by one broad way that bore me<br>Out of that waste, and as I passed by tower and town<br>I saw amid the limitless plain far out before me<br>A long low mountain, blue as beryl, and its crown</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Was capped by marble roofs that shone like snow for whiteness,<br>Its foot was deep in gardens, and that blossoming plain<br>Seemed in the radiant shower of its majestic brightness<br>A land for gods to dwell in, free from care and pain.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And to and forth from that fair mountain like a river<br>Ran many a dim grey road, and on them I could see<br>A multitude of stately forms that seemed for ever<br>Going and coming in bright bands; and near to me</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Was one that in his journey seemed to dream and linger,<br>Walking at whiles with kingly step, then standing still,<br>And him I met and asked him, pointing with my finger,<br>The meaning of the palace and the lofty hill.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Whereto the dreamer: 'Art thou of this land, my brother,<br>And knowest not the mountain and its crest of walls,<br>Where dwells the priestless worship of the all-wise mother?<br>That is the hill of Pallas; those her marble halls!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'There dwell the lords of knowledge and of thought increasing,<br>And they whom insight and the gleams of song uplift;<br>And thence as by a hundred conduits flows unceasing<br>The spring of power and beauty, an eternal gift.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Still I passed on until I reached at length, not knowing<br>Whither the tangled and diverging paths might lead,<br>A land of baser men, whose coming and whose going<br>Were urged by fear, and hunger, and the curse of greed.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I saw the proud and fortunate go by me, faring<br>In fatness and fine robes, the poor oppressed and slow,<br>The faces of bowed men, and piteous women bearing<br>The burden of perpetual sorrow and the stamp of woe.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And tides of deep solicitude and wondering pity<br>Possessed me, and with eager and uplifted hands<br>I drew the crowd about me in a mighty city,<br>And taught the message of those other kindlier lands.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I preached the rule of Faith and brotherly Communion,<br>The law of Peace and Beauty and the death of Strife,<br>And painted in great words the horror of disunion,<br>The vainness of self-worship, and the waste of life.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I preached, but fruitlessly; the powerful from their stations<br>Rebuked me as an anarch, envious and bad,<br>And they that served them with lean hands and bitter patience<br>Smiled only out of hollow orbs, and deemed me mad.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And still I preached, and wrought, and still I bore my message,<br>For well I knew that on and upward without cease<br>The spirit works for ever, and by Faith and Presage<br>That somehow yet the end of human life is Peace.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Archibald+Lampman">Archibald Lampman</a><div class=q>
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Throughout a happy land where strife and care were dead,
And life went by me flowing like a placid river
Past sandy eyots where the shifting shoals make head.

A land where beauty dwelt supreme, a..."></div>
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