<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=351455" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>When comes the morning?</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">When<br>comes the real morning?<br>When golden, the sun's rays hover<br>Over the earth's snow-cover,<br>And where the shadows nestle,<br>Wrestle,<br>Lifting lightward the root enringèd<br>Till it shall seem an angel wingèd,<br>Then it is morning,<br>Real, real morning.<br>But if the weather is bad<br>And my spirit sad,<br>Never morning I know.<br>No.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Truly, it's real morning,<br>When blossom the buds winter-beaten,<br>The birds having drunk and eaten<br>Are glad as they sing, divining<br>Shining<br>Great new crowns to the tree-tops given,<br>Cheering the brooks to the broad ocean riven.<br>Then it is morning,<br>Real, real morning.<br>But if the weather is bad<br>And my spirit sad,<br>Never morning I know.<br>No.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>When<br>comes the real morning?<br>When power to conquer parries<br>Sorrow and storm, and carries<br>Sun to the soul, whose burning<br>Yearning<br>Opens in love and calls to others:<br>Good to be unto all as brothers.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Then<br>it is morning,<br>Real, real morning.<br>Greatest power you know<br>-And most dangerous, lo!-<br>Will you <br>this<br>then possess?<br>Yes.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Bj%C3%B8rnstjerne+Bj%C3%B8rnson">Bjørnstjerne Bjørnson</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=351455" data-title="When comes the morning? de Bjørnstjerne Bjørnson" data-description="When comes the real morning? When golden, the sun's rays hover Over the earth's snow-cover, And where the shadows nestle, Wrestle, Lifting lightward the root enringèd Till it shall seem an angel wingèd, Then it is morning, Real, real morning. Bu..."></div> </div> </div>

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