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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=374104" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Richborough Castle</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">THESE three grey walls are still stout and strong, <br>Though the fourth wide wall has crumbled away <br>Where the sea swept by when the land was young, <br>And the great waves thundered along the bay, <br>Under the sailing seagull's feather, <br>Wildly white in the stormy weather, <br>And, murmuring ever a restless song, <br>Shone, crumpled green, on a sunny day. </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>Through eighteen hundred years of our time, <br>With their storms and sieges, these walls have stood, <br>Till the cliff that the waves once strove to climb <br>Is left in a meadow solitude; <br>And now no sea-gulls' nests are there, <br>But ash-trees and thorns make the cliff-side fair, <br>And the green of the leaves, and the white of the lime, <br>And the red of the berries is sweet and good. </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>Over the walls, whence eagle-eyed <br>The Romans looked for the coming foes, <br>Swift keen-tongued snakes now curl and glide <br>Where the heavy weight of the ivy grows. <br>Oh, hand that builded, oh, scheming brain, <br>So long made one with the dust again, <br>Your old cement and your walls abide, <br>But stronger than they are the ivy and rose! </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>How the whole dear world is golden and green <br>With the marshy meadows, the dimpled wheat, <br>The hot strong sunshine, the ivy's sheen, <br>And the high white lights on the shiny beet. <br>See the far blue line--the retreating sea! <br>It is good to be here, it is good to be; <br>Whatever life is, or whatever has been, <br>To be now--to be here, is nothing but sweet! </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>There's an underground passage here, they say, <br>Here is the entrance with green set round; <br>You must stoop your head in this low-roofed way, <br>Leave day, light candles--pass underground. <br>Here, under the fields, it is damp and cold, <br>And whatever secret the place may hold <br>It has held it closely for many a day, <br>And will hold it for more in its hush profound. </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>Down here, last year, so the gossips tell, <br>Some archæological learned bore <br>Went chipping with hammer and chisel as well <br>To chip his way to the secret's core-- <br>Shut away from the sun and the browning wheat, <br>The whitening barley, the purple beet-- <br>In the dark with the damp, the earthy smell, <br>While the days burned through that return no more. </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>Oh, fool! not to see that the green of the trees, <br>The blue of the sky and the blue of the sea, <br>The placid pasture, the baby breeze, <br>And the outspread meadows' tranquillity, <br>With eyes to see them, are more than worth <br>The whole of the secrets of musty earth. <br>What secret outweighs such delights as these, <br>Or pays one lost moment's felicity? </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>Are we wise, we two, when we try to pierce <br>To the heart of things, to our own hearts' heart, <br>To learn the secret springs of the years, <br>And what that is of which we are part? <br>Free will--the Absolute--matter--mind-- <br>Ah, we came like the wind and we go like the wind! <br>Would solving life's mysteries dry our tears, <br>Or absolute knowledge heal souls that smart? </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>And meantime one might lose what I'd die to keep-- <br>The power to delight in a day like this, <br>In the brown wings' whir, and the faint-bell'd sheep, <br>In the million things that the millions miss. <br>And, think, had it happened one's in-turned eyes <br>Had missed the gateway of Paradise, <br>Had one questioned of dreams till one fell asleep, <br>Having never dreamed, oh, my Dream, of your kiss!</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=374104" data-title="Richborough Castle de Edith Nesbit" data-description="THESE three grey walls are still stout and strong, 
Though the fourth wide wall has crumbled away 
Where the sea swept by when the land was young, 
And the great waves thundered along the bay, 
Under the sailing seagull's feather, 
Wildly white in..."></div>
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