Click in the field, then press CTRL+C to copy the HTML code
<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=374753" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Battle Passes</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">A quaint old gabled cottage sleeps be- <br>tween the raving hills. <br>To right and left are livid strife, but on the <br>deep, wide sills <br>The purple pot-flowers swell and glow, and <br>o'er the walls and eaves <br>Prinked creeper steals caressing hands, the <br>poplar drips its leaves. <br>Within the garden hot and sweet <br>Fair form and woven color meet, <br>While down the clear, cool stones, 'tween <br>banks with branch and blossom gay, <br>A little, bridged, blind rivulet goes touching <br>out its way. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Peace lingers hidden from the knife, the tear- <br>ing blinding shell, <br>Where falls the spattered sunlight on a lichen- <br>covered well. <br>No voice is here, no fall of feet, no smoke lifts <br>cool and grey, <br>But on the granite stoop a cat blinks vaguely <br>at the day. <br>From hill to hill across the vale <br>Storms man's terrific iron gale; <br>The cot roof on a brooding dove recks not the <br>distant gun. <br>A brown hen scolds her chickens chasing <br>midges in the sun. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Now down the eastward slope they come. <br>No call of life, no beat of drum, <br>But stealthily, and in the green, <br>Low hid, with rifle and machine, <br>Spit hate and death; and red blood flows <br>To shame the whiteness of the rose. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Crack followes crash; the bestial roar <br>Of gastly and insensate war <br>Breaks on the cot. A rending stoke, <br>The red roof springs, and in the smoke <br>And spume of shells the riven walls <br>Pile where the splintered elm-tree spawls. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">From westward, streaming down hill, <br>Shot-ravaged, thinned, but urgent still, <br>The brown, fierce, blooded Anzacs sweep, <br>And Hell leaps a up. The lilies weep <br>Strange crimson tears. Tight-lipped and mute, <br>The grim, gaunt soldiers stab and shoot. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">It passes. Frantic, fleeing death, <br>Wild-eyed, foam-flecked and every breath <br>A labored agony, like deer <br>That feel the hounds' keen teeth, appear <br>The Prussian men, and, wild to slay <br>The hunters press upon their prey. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Cries fade and fitful shots die down. The <br>Tumbled ruin now <br>Smoke faintly in the summer light, and lifts <br>The trodden bough. <br>A sigh stirs in the trampled green, and held <br>And tainted red <br>The rill creeps o'er a dead man's face and <br>steals along its bed. <br>One deep among the lilacs thrown <br>Shock all the stillness with a moan. <br>Peace like the snowflake lights again where <br>utter silence lies, <br>And softly with white finger-tips she seals a <br>soldier eyes.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Edward+George+Dyson">Edward George Dyson</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=374753" data-title="Battle Passes de Edward George Dyson" data-description="A quaint old gabled cottage sleeps be- 
tween the raving hills. 
To right and left are livid strife, but on the 
deep, wide sills 
The purple pot-flowers swell and glow, and 
o'er the walls and eaves 
Prinked creeper steals caressing hands, the 
p..."></div>
</div>
</div>