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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=374184" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Last Envoy</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">THIS wind, that through the silent woodland blows, <br>O'er rippling corn and dreaming pastures goes <br>Straight to the garden where the heart of spring <br>Faints in the heart of summer's earliest rose. </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>Dimpling the meadow's grassy green and grey, <br>By furze that yellows all the common way, <br>Gathering the gladness of the flowering broom, <br>And too persistent fragrance of the may-- </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>Gathering whatever is of sweet and dear, <br>The wandering wind has passed away from here, <br>Has passed to where within your garden waits <br>The concentrated sweetness of the year. </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>And in your leafed enclosure as you stood, <br>Training your flowers to new beatitude-- <br>Ah! did you guess the wind that kissed your hair <br>Had kissed my forehead in this solitude-- </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>Had kissed my lips, and gathered there the heat <br>It breathed upon your mouth, my only sweet-- <br>Had gathered from my eyes the tender thought <br>That drooped your eyes, and stirred your pulses' beat? </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>You only thought the sun's caress too warm <br>That lay upon your bosom and your arm; <br>You did not guess the wind had brought from me <br>The unacknowledged fancy's fire and charm-- </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>You only said, 'Too strong these sunlit skies, <br>More dear the moments when the daylight dies!' <br>And then you dreamed of meetings by your gate <br>In sanctity of sunset and moonrise. </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>To-night, when he shall come and meet you there, <br>To kiss your lips and hands and eyes and hair, <br>To light with love and hope youth's waiting shrine-- <br>Think of my love, and my assured despair! </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>To-night the wind will rob the languid flowers <br>Of secret scents kept close through daylit hours; <br>It will blow coolly over dewy lawns, <br>Where the laburnums fall in silent showers. </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>I, too, shall learn a secret then--shall wrest <br>Life's hidden things from out her languorous breast, <br>Shall learn the way that leads away from life <br>Into the land where nothing lives but rest. </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>You will not know that the cold air you prize, <br>After the stormy sweetness of his sighs, <br>Is cold from blowing through a moonlit wood <br>Over the hollow where a dead man lies!</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=374184" data-title="The Last Envoy de Edith Nesbit" data-description="THIS wind, that through the silent woodland blows, 
O'er rippling corn and dreaming pastures goes 
Straight to the garden where the heart of spring 
Faints in the heart of summer's earliest rose. 


Dimpling the meadow's grassy green and grey, 
By..."></div>
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