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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=353942" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Dedication</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">ONCE more, my harp! once more, although I thought <br>Never to wake thy silent strings again, <br>A wandering dream thy gentle chords have wrought, <br>And my sad heart, which long hath dwelt in pain, <br>Soars, like a wild bird from a cypress bough, <br>Into the poet's Heaven, and leaves dull grief below! </div><div style="margin:10px 0">And unto Thee--the beautiful and pure-- <br>Whose lot is cast amid that busy world <br>Where only sluggish Dulness dwells secure, <br>And Fancy's generous wing is faintly furl'd; <br>To thee--whose friendship kept its equal truth <br>Through the most dreary hour of my embitter'd youth-- </div><div style="margin:10px 0">I dedicate the lay. Ah! never bard, <br>In days when Poverty was twin with song; <br>Nor wandering harper, lonely and ill-starr'd; <br>Cheer'd by some castle's chief, and harboured long; <br>Not Scott's 'Last Minstrel,' in his trembling lays, <br>Woke with a warmer heart the earnest meed of praise! </div><div style="margin:10px 0">For easy are the alms the rich man spares <br>To sons of Genius, by misfortune bent, <br>But thou gav'st me, what woman seldom dares, <br>Belief--in spite of may a cold dissent-- <br>When slandered and maligned, I stood apart, <br>From those whose bounded power, hath wrung, not crushed, my heart. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Then, then, when cowards lied away my name, <br>And scoff'd to see me feebly stem the tide; <br>When some were kind on whom I had no claim, <br>And some forsook on whom my love relied, <br>And some, who might have battled for my sake, <br>Stood off in doubt to see what turn 'the world' would take-- </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Thou gavest me that the poor do give the poor, <br>Kind words, and holy wishes, and true tears; <br>The loved, the near of kin, could do no more, <br>Who changed not with the gloom of varying years, <br>But clung the closer when I stood forlorn, <br>And blunted Slander's dart with their indignant scorn. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">For they who credit crime are they who feel <br>Their own hearts weak to unresisted sin; <br>Mem'ry, not judgment, prompts the thoughts which steal <br>O'er minds like these, an easy faith to win; <br>And tales of broken truth are still believed <br>Most readily by those who have themselves deceived. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">But, like a white swan down a troubled stream, <br>Whose ruffling pinion hath the power to fling <br>Aside the turbid drops which darkly gleam <br>And mar the freshness of her snowy wing,-- <br>So Thou, with queenly grace and gentle pride, <br>Along the world's dark waves in purity dost glide; </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Thy pale and pearly cheek was never made <br>To crimson with a faint false-hearted shame; <br>Thou didst not shrink,--of bitter tongues afraid, <br>Who hunt in packs the object of their blame; <br>To Thee the sad denial still held true, <br>For from thine own good thoughts thy heart its mercy drew. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">And, though my faint and tributary rhymes <br>Add nothing to the glory of thy day, <br>Yet every Poet hopes that after-times <br>Shall set some value on his votive lay,-- <br>And I would fain one gentle deed record <br>Among the many such with which thy life is stored. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">So, when these lines, made in a mournful hour, <br>Are idly open'd to the Stranger's eye, <br>A dream of THEE, aroused by Fancy's power, <br>Shall be the first to wander floating by; <br>And they who never saw thy lovely face, <br>Shall pause,--to conjure up a vision of its grace!</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Caroline+Elizabeth+Sarah+Norton">Caroline Elizabeth Sarah Norton</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=353942" data-title="Dedication de Caroline Elizabeth Sarah Norton" data-description="ONCE more, my harp! once more, although I thought 
Never to wake thy silent strings again, 
A wandering dream thy gentle chords have wrought, 
And my sad heart, which long hath dwelt in pain, 
Soars, like a wild bird from a cypress bough, 
Into th..."></div>
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