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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=381434" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Whip</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">The doubt you fought so long <br>The cynic net you cast, <br>The tyranny, the wrong, <br>The ruin, they are past; <br>And here you are at last,<br>Your blood no longer vexed. <br>The coffin has you fast, <br>The clod will have you next. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">But fear you not the clod, <br>Nor ever doubt the grave:<br>The roses and the sod <br>Will not forswear the wave. <br>The gift the river gave <br>Is now but theirs to cover: <br>The mistress and the slave<br>Are gone now, and the lover. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">You left the two to find <br>Their own way to the brink <br>Then—shall I call you blind?— <br>You chose to plunge and sink.<br>God knows the gall we drink <br>Is not the mead we cry for, <br>Nor was it, I should think— <br>For you—a thing to die for. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Could we have done the same,<br>Had we been in your place?— <br>This funeral of your name <br>Throws no light on the case. <br>Could we have made the chase, <br>And felt then as you felt?—<br>But what’s this on your face, <br>Blue, curious, like a welt? </div><div style="margin:10px 0">There were some ropes of sand <br>Recorded long ago, <br>But none, I understand,<br>Of water. Is it so? <br>And she—she struck the blow, <br>You but a neck behind … <br>You saw the river flow— <br>Still, shall I call you blind?</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=381434" data-title="The Whip de Edwin Arlington Robinson" data-description="The doubt you fought so long 
The cynic net you cast, 
The tyranny, the wrong, 
The ruin, they are past; 
And here you are at last,
Your blood no longer vexed. 
The coffin has you fast, 
The clod will have you next. 

But fear you not the clod, 
N..."></div>
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