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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=374003" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Children's Playground In The City</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">THIS is a place where men laid their dead, <br>Each with his life-tale of good or ill; <br>Here prayers were murmured and hot tears shed, <br>And passionate anguish moaned its fill. <br>Silent now is each voice that cried, <br>And the tears that were wept have all been dried <br>In the dust; and dust are the hearts that bled <br>With hopeless longing for hearts grown still. </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>Dead and forgotten! for Death, requiter <br>Of love, taught Memory how to forget! <br>The love that remembered them died. Grow brighter, <br>Oh, dim grave-garden, with dead hearts set! <br>Room for the small flying feet to pass, <br>The feet of the children over the grass! <br>The dead, if they knew it, would feel them lighter <br>Than the weight of a stone that no tears make wet. </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>We must die too, and the grief that will live <br>Must die as surely--death comes to all; <br>But you who come after--let Nature give <br>To our graves her tears, to our dust her pall: <br>Let her hide us away in her cold broad breast, <br>Let us be forgotten, and be at rest, <br>And over our heads let the great world strive, <br>And the children's voices carol and call. </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>If your heart on the flower of remembrance is set, <br>There is one way to pluck it--and only one: <br>Dare you ask your country not to forget <br>A name that needs to be graved on stone? <br>By grief, strife, sacrifice, scorn of fame, <br>You may grave on the people's hearts your name, <br>Or your name may die, and your soul live yet <br>In the cause you died for--the work you have done.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Edith+Nesbit">Edith Nesbit</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=374003" data-title="Children's Playground In The City de Edith Nesbit" data-description="THIS is a place where men laid their dead, 
Each with his life-tale of good or ill; 
Here prayers were murmured and hot tears shed, 
And passionate anguish moaned its fill. 
Silent now is each voice that cried, 
And the tears that were wept have a..."></div>
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