<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=360835" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>World's Worth</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">'TIS of the Father Hilary. <br>He strove, but could not pray; so took <br>The steep-coiled stair, where his feet shook <br>A sad blind echo. Ever up <br>He toiled. 'Twas a sick sway of air <br>That autumn noon within the stair, <br>As dizzy as a turning cup. <br>His brain benumbed him, void and thin; <br>He shut his eyes and felt it spin; <br>The obscure deafness hemmed him in. <br>He said: “O world, what world for me?” <br>He leaned unto the balcony <br>Where the chime keeps the night and day; <br>It hurt his brain, he could not pray. <br>He had his face upon the stone: <br>Deep 'twixt the narrow shafts, his eye <br>Passed all the roofs to the stark sky, <br>Swept with no wing, with wind alone. <br>Close to his feet the sky did shake <br>With wind in pools that the rains make; <br>The ripple set his eyes to ache. <br>He said: “O world, what world for me?” </div><div style="margin:10px 0">He stood within the mystery <br>Girding God's blessed Eucharist: <br>The organ and the chaunt had ceas'd. <br>The last words paused against his ear <br>Said from the altar: drawn round him <br>The gathering rest was dumb and dim. <br>And now the sacring-bell rang clear <br>And ceased; and all was awe,—the breath <br>Of God in man that warranteth <br>The inmost utmost things of faith. <br>He said: “O God, my world in Thee!”</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> <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=360835" data-title="World's Worth de Dante Gabriel Rossetti" data-description="'TIS of the Father Hilary. He strove, but could not pray; so took The steep-coiled stair, where his feet shook A sad blind echo. Ever up He toiled. 'Twas a sick sway of air That autumn noon within the stair, As dizzy as a turning cup. His b..."></div> </div> </div>

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