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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=381351" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>L'envoy</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Now in a thought, now in a shadowed word, <br>Now in a voice that thrills eternity, <br>Ever there comes an onward phrase to me <br>Of some transcendent music I have heard; <br>No piteous thing by soft hands dulcimered,<br>No trumpet crash of blood-sick victory, <br>But a glad strain of some vast harmony <br>That no brief mortal touch has ever stirred. <br>There is no music in the world like this, <br>No character wherewith to set it down,<br>No kind of instrument to make it sing. <br>No kind of instrument? Ah, yes, there is; <br>And after time and place are overthrown, <br>God’s touch will keep its one chord quivering.</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=381351" data-title="L'envoy de Edwin Arlington Robinson" data-description="Now in a thought, now in a shadowed word, 
Now in a voice that thrills eternity, 
Ever there comes an onward phrase to me 
Of some transcendent music I have heard; 
No piteous thing by soft hands dulcimered,
No trumpet crash of blood-sick victory,..."></div>
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