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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=360827" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Venus Verticordia (For a Picture)</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">SHE hath the apple in her hand for thee,<br>Yet almost in her heart would hold it back;<br>She muses, with her eyes upon the track<br>Of that which in thy spirit they can see.<br>Haply, “Behold, he is at peace,” saith she;<br>“Alas! the apple for his lips,—the dart<br>That follows its brief sweetness to his heart,—<br>The wandering of his feet perpetually!”<br>A little space her glance is still and coy;<br>But if she give the fruit that works her spell,<br>Those eyes shall flame as for her Phrygian boy.<br>Then shall her bird's strained throat the woe foretell,<br>And her far seas moan as a single shell,<br>Pandora (For a Picture)<br>WHAT of the end, Pandora? Was it thine,<br>The deed that set these fiery pinions free?<br>Ah! wherefore did the Olympian consistory<br>In its own likeness make thee half divine?<br>Was it that Juno's brow might stand a sign<br>For ever? and the mien of Pallas be<br>A deadly thing? and that all men might see<br>In Venus' eyes the gaze of Proserpine?<br>What of the end? These beat their wings at will,<br>The ill-born things, the good things turned to ill,—<br>Powers of the impassioned hours prohibited.<br>Aye, clench the casket now! Whither they go<br>Thou mayst not dare to think: nor canst thou know<br>If Hope still pent there be alive or dead.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Dante+Gabriel+Rossetti">Dante Gabriel Rossetti</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=360827" data-title="Venus Verticordia (For a Picture) de Dante Gabriel Rossetti" data-description="SHE hath the apple in her hand for thee,
Yet almost in her heart would hold it back;
She muses, with her eyes upon the track
Of that which in thy spirit they can see.
Haply, “Behold, he is at peace,” saith she;
“Alas! the apple for his lips,..."></div>
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