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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=359083" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Resurrection</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">I thought I had forever lost,<br>Alas, though still so young,<br>The tender joys and sorrows all,<br>That unto youth belong;</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The sufferings sweet, the impulses<br>Our inmost hearts that warm;<br>Whatever gives this life of ours<br>Its value and its charm.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">What sore laments, what bitter tears<br>O'er my sad state I shed,<br>When first I felt from my cold heart<br>Its gentle pains had fled!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Its throbs I felt no more; my love<br>Within me seemed to die;<br>Nor from my frozen, senseless breast<br>Escaped a single sigh!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I wept o'er my sad, hapless lot;<br>The life of life seemed lost;<br>The earth an arid wilderness,<br>Locked in eternal frost;</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The day how dreary, and the night<br>How dull, and dark, and lone!<br>The moon for me no brightness had,<br>No star in heaven shone.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And yet the old love was the cause<br>Of all the tears I shed;<br>Still in my inmost breast I felt<br>The heart was not yet dead.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">My weary fancy still would crave<br>The images it loved,<br>And its capricious longings still<br>A source of sorrow proved.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">But e'en that lingering spark of grief<br>Was soon within me spent,<br>And I the strength no longer had<br>To utter a lament.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And there I lay, stunned, stupefied,<br>Nor asked for comfort more;<br>My heart to hopeless, blank despair<br>Itself had given o'er.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">How changed, alas, was I from him<br>Who once with passion thrilled,<br>Whose ardent soul was ever, once,<br>With sweet illusions filled!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The swallow to my window, still,<br>Would come, to greet the dawn;<br>But his sweet song no echo found<br>In my poor heart, forlorn.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Nor pleased me more, in autumn gray,<br>Upon the hill-side lone,<br>The cheerful vesper-bell, or light<br>Of the departing sun.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">In vain the evening star I saw<br>Above the silent vale,<br>And vainly warbled in the grove<br>The plaintive nightingale.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And you, ye furtive glances, bright,<br>From gentle eyes that rove,<br>The sweet, the gracious messages<br>Of first immortal Love;</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The soft, white hand, that tenderly<br>My own hand seemed to woo;<br>All, all your magic spells were vain,<br>My torpor to subdue.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Of every pleasure quite bereft,<br>Sad but of tranquil mien;<br>A state of perfect littleness,<br>Yet with a face serene;</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Save for the lingering wish, indeed,<br>In death to sink to rest,<br>The force of all desire was spent<br>In my exhausted breast.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">As some poor, feeble wanderer,<br>With age and sorrow bent,<br>The April of my years, alas,<br>Thus listlessly I spent;</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Thus listlessly, thus wearily,<br>Didst thou consume, O heart,<br>Those golden days, ineffable,<br>So swiftly that depart.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">_Who_, from this heavy, heedless rest<br>Awakens me again?<br>What new, what magic power is this,<br>I feel within me reign?</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Ye motions sweet, ye images,<br>Ye throbs, illusions blest,<br>Ah, no,--ye are not then shut out<br>Forever from this breast?</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The glorious light of golden days<br>Do ye again unfold?<br>The old affections that I lost,<br>Do I once more behold?</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Now, as I gaze upon the sky,<br>Or on the verdant fields,<br>Each thing with sorrow me inspires,<br>And each a pleasure yields.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The mountain, forest, and the shore<br>Once more my heart rejoice;<br>The fountain speaks to me once more,<br>The sea hath found a voice.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Who, after all this apathy,<br>Restores to me my tears?<br>Each moment, as I look around,<br>How changed the world appears!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Hath hope, perchance, O my poor heart,<br>Beguiled thee of thy pain?<br>Ah, no, the gracious smile of hope<br>I ne'er shall see again.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Nature bestowed these impulses,<br>And these illusions blest;<br>Their inborn influence, in me,<br>By suffering was suppressed;</div><div style="margin:10px 0">But not annulled, not overcome<br>By cruel blows of Fate;<br>Nor by the inauspicious frown<br>Of Truth, importunate!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I know she has no sympathy<br>For fond imaginings;<br>I know that Nature, too, is deaf,<br>Nor heeds our sufferings;</div><div style="margin:10px 0">That for our _good_ she nothing cares,<br>Our _being_, only heeds;<br>And with the sight of our distress<br>Her wild caprices feeds.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I know the poor man pleads in vain,<br>For others' sympathy;<br>That scornfully, or heedlessly,<br>All from his presence flee;</div><div style="margin:10px 0">That both for genius and for worth,<br>This age has no respect;<br>That all who cherish lofty aims<br>Are left to cold neglect.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And you, ye eyes so tremulous<br>With lustre all divine,<br>I know how false your splendors are,<br>Where no true love doth shine.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">No love mysterious and profound<br>Illumes you with its glow;<br>Nor gleams one spark of genial fire<br>Beneath that breast of snow.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Nay, it is wont to laugh to scorn<br>Another's tender pain;<br>The fervent flame of heavenly love<br>To treat with cold disdain.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Yet I with thankfulness once more<br>The old illusions greet,<br>And feel, with shock of pleased surprise,<br>The heart within me beat.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">To thee alone this force renewed,<br>This vital power I owe;<br>From thee alone, my faithful heart,<br>My only comforts flow.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I feel it is the destiny<br>Of every noble mind,<br>In Fate, in Fortune, Beauty, and the World,<br>An enemy to find:</div><div style="margin:10px 0">But while thou liv'st, nor yield'st to Fate,<br>Contending without fear,<br>I will not tax with cruelty<br>The power that placed me here.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Count+Giacomo+Leopardi">Count Giacomo Leopardi</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=359083" data-title="The Resurrection de Count Giacomo Leopardi" data-description="I thought I had forever lost,
Alas, though still so young,
The tender joys and sorrows all,
That unto youth belong;

The sufferings sweet, the impulses
Our inmost hearts that warm;
Whatever gives this life of ours
Its value and its charm.

What so..."></div>
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