<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=381406" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Gift of God</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Blessed with a joy that only she<br>Of all alive shall ever know,<br>She wears a proud humility<br>For what it was that willed it so -<br>That her degree should be so great<br>Among the favoured of the Lord<br>That she may scarcely bear the weight<br>Of her bewildering reward.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">As one apart, immune, alone,<br>Or featured for the shining ones,<br>And like to none that she has known<br>Of other women's other sons -<br>The firm fruition of her need,<br>He shines anointed; and he blurs<br>Her vision, till it seems indeed<br>A sacrilege to call him hers.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">She fears a little for so much<br>Of what is best, and hardly dares<br>To think of him as one to touch<br>With aches, indignities, and cares;<br>She sees him rather at the goal,<br>Still shining; and her dream foretells<br>The proper shining of a soul<br>Where nothing ordinary dwells.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Perchance a canvass of the town<br>Would find him far from flags and shouts,<br>And leave him only the renown<br>Of many smiles and many doubts;<br>Perchance the crude and common tongue<br>Would havoc strangely with his worth;<br>But she, with innocence unwrung,<br>Would read his name around the earth.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And others, knowing how this youth<br>Would shine, if love could make him great,<br>When caught and tortured for the truth<br>Would only writhe and hesitate;<br>While she, arranging for his days<br>What centuries could not fulfil,<br>Transmutes him with her faith and praise,<br>And has him shining where she will.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">She crowns him with her gratefulness,<br>And says again that life is good;<br>And should the gift of God be less<br>In him than in her motherhood,<br>His fame, though vague, will not be small<br>As upward through her dream he fares,<br>Half clouded with a crimson fall<br>Of roses thrown on marble stairs.</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> <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=381406" data-title="The Gift of God de Edwin Arlington Robinson" data-description="Blessed with a joy that only she Of all alive shall ever know, She wears a proud humility For what it was that willed it so - That her degree should be so great Among the favoured of the Lord That she may scarcely bear the weight Of her bewilderin..."></div> </div> </div>

solid border dashed border dotted border double border groove border ridge border inset border outset border no border blue green red purple cyan gold silver black