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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=368482" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>A Living Picture</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">No, I'll not say your name. I have said it now, <br>As you mine, first in childish treble, then <br>Up through a score and more familiar years <br>Till baby-voices mock us. Time may come <br>When your tall sons look down on our white hair, <br>Amused to hear us call each other thus, <br>And question us about the old, old days, <br>The far-off days, the days when we were young. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">How distant do they seem, and yet how near! <br>Now, as I lie and watch you come and go, <br>With garden basket in your hand; in gown <br>Just girdled, and brown curls that girl-like fall, <br>And straw hat flapping in the April breeze, <br>I could forget this lapse of years--start up <br>Laughing--'Come, let's go play!' <br>Well-a-day, friend, <br>Our play-days are all done. <br>Still, let us smile: <br>For as you flit about your garden here <br>You look like this spring morning: on your lips <br>An unseen bird sings snatches of gay tunes, <br>While, an embodied music, moves your step, <br>Your free, wild, springy step, like Atala's, <br>Or Pocahontas, careless child o' the sun-- <br>Those Indian beauties I compare you to-- <br>I, still your praiser,-- <br>Nay, nay, I'll not praise, <br>Fair seemeth fairest, ignorant 't is fair: <br>That light incredulous laugh is worth a world! <br>That laugh, with childish echoes. <br>So then, fade, <br>Mere dream. Come, true and sweet reality: <br>Come, dawn of happy wifehood, motherhood, <br>Ripening to perfect noon! Come, peaceful round <br>Of simple joys, fond duties, gladsome cares, <br>When each full hour drops bliss with liberal hand, <br>Yet leaves to-morrow richer than to-day. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Will you sit here? the grass is summer-warm. <br>Look at those children making daisy-chains, <br>So did we too, do you mind? That eldest lad, <br>He has your very mouth. Yet, you will have 't <br>His eyes are like his father's? Perhaps so: <br>They could not be more dark and deep and kind. <br>Do you know, this hour I have been fancying you <br>A poet's dream, and almost sighed to think <br>There was no poet to praise you-- <br>Why, you're flown <br>After those mad elves in the flower-beds there, <br>Ha--ha--you're no dream now. <br>Well, well--so best! <br>My eyelids droop content o'er moistened eyes: <br>I would not have you other than you are.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Dinah+Maria+Mulock+Craik">Dinah Maria Mulock Craik</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=368482" data-title="A Living Picture de Dinah Maria Mulock Craik" data-description="No, I'll not say your name. I have said it now, 
As you mine, first in childish treble, then 
Up through a score and more familiar years 
Till baby-voices mock us. Time may come 
When your tall sons look down on our white hair, 
Amused to hear us ..."></div>
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