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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=381308" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Ben Trovato</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">The Deacon thought. “I know them,” he began, <br>“And they are all you ever heard of them— <br>Allurable to no sure theorem, <br>The scorn or the humility of man. <br>You say ‘Can I believe it?’—and I can;<br>And I’m unwilling even to condemn <br>The benefaction of a stratagem <br>Like hers—and I’m a Presbyterian. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">“Though blind, with but a wandering hour to live, <br>He felt the other woman in the fur <br>That now the wife had on. Could she forgive <br>All that? Apparently. Her rings were gone, <br>Of course; and when he found that she had none, <br>He smiled—as he had never smiled at her.”</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Edwin+Arlington+Robinson">Edwin Arlington Robinson</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=381308" data-title="Ben Trovato de Edwin Arlington Robinson" data-description="The Deacon thought. “I know them,” he began, 
“And they are all you ever heard of them— 
Allurable to no sure theorem, 
The scorn or the humility of man. 
You say ‘Can I believe it?’—and I can;
And I’m unwilling even to condemn 
Th..."></div>
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