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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=348681" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Beggars</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">It is the beggars who possess the earth.<br>Kings on their throne have but a narrow girth<br>Of some poor known dominion; these possess<br>All the unknown, and that vast happiness<br>Of the uncertainty of human things.<br>Wandering on eternal wanderings,<br>They know the world; and tasting but the bread<br>Of charity, know man; and, strangely led<br>By some vague, certain, and appointed hand,<br>Know fate; and being lonely, understand<br>Some little of the thing without a name<br>That sits by the roadside and talks with them,<br>When they are silent; for the soul is shy<br>If more than its own shadow loiter by.<br>They and the birds are old acquaintances,<br>Knowing the dawn together; theirs it is<br>To settle on the dusty land like crows,<br>The ragged vagabonds of the air; who knows<br>How they too shall be fed, day after day,<br>And surer than the birds, for are not they<br>The prodigal sons of God, our piteous<br>Aliens, outcast and accusing us?<br>Do they not ask of us their own, and wait,<br>Humbly, among the dogs about the gate,<br>While we are feasting? They will wait till night:<br>Who shall wait longer? Dim, shadowy, white,<br>The highway calls; they follow till it ends,<br>And all the way they walk among their friends,<br>Sun, wind, and rain, their tearful sister rain,<br>Their brother wind. Forest and hill and plain<br>Know them and are forgotten. Grey and old,<br>Their feet begin to linger, brown arms fold<br>The heavy peace of earth about their heart,<br>And soon, and without trouble, they depart<br>On the last journey. As the beggar lies,<br>With naked face, remembering the skies,<br>I think he only wonders: Shall I find<br>A good road still, a hayrick to my mind,<br>A tavern now and then upon the road?<br>He has been earth's guest; he goes; the old abode<br>Drops to the old horizon, the old way<br>Of yesterday and every yesterday.<br>We, heavy laden, miserably proud<br>Because our hands ache and our backs are bowed<br>With dusty treasures, have so much to quit:<br>He, nothing, nor the memory of it.<br>O, the one happiness, when, out of breath,<br>Our feet slip, and we stumble upon death!</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Arthur+Symons">Arthur Symons</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=348681" data-title="The Beggars de Arthur Symons" data-description="It is the beggars who possess the earth.
Kings on their throne have but a narrow girth
Of some poor known dominion; these possess
All the unknown, and that vast happiness
Of the uncertainty of human things.
Wandering on eternal wanderings,
They kn..."></div>
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