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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=384443" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Individuality</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Ah yes, I love you, and with all my heart; <br> Just as a weaker woman loves her own, <br>Better than I love my beloved art, <br> Which, until you came, reigned royally, alone, <br>My king, my master. Since I saw your face<br>I have dethroned it, and you hold that place.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I am as weak as other women are –<br> Your frown can make the whole world like a tomb<br>Your smile shines brighter than the sun, by far; <br> Sometimes I think there is not space or room<br>In all the earth for such a love as mine, <br>And it soars up to breathe in realms divine.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I know that your desertion or neglect<br> Could break my heart, as women’s hearts do break; <br>If my wan days had nothing to expect<br> From your love’s splendour, all joy would forsake<br>The chambers of my soul. Yes this is true.<br>And yet, and yet – one thing I keep from you.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">There is a subtle part of me, which went<br> Into my long pursued and worshipped art; <br>Though your great love fills me with such content, <br> No other love finds room now in my heart.<br>Yet that rare essence was my art’s alone.<br>Thank God, you cannot grasp it; ‘tis mine own.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Thank God, I say, for while I love you so, <br> With that vast love, as passionate as tender, <br>I feel an exultation as I know<br> I have not made you a complete surrender.<br>Here is my body; bruise it, if you will, <br>And break my heart; I have that something still.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">You cannot grasp it. Seize the breath of morn, <br> Or bind the perfume of the rose as well.<br>God put it in my soul when I was born; <br> It is not mine to give away, or sell, <br>Or offer up on any alter shrine.<br>It was my art’s; and when not art’s, ‘tis mine.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">For Love’s sake, I can put the art away, <br> Or anything which stands ‘twixt me and you, <br>But that strange essence God bestowed, I say, <br> To permeate the work He gave to do: <br>And it cannot be drained, dissolved, or sent<br>Through any channel, save the one He meant.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Ella+Wheeler+Wilcox">Ella Wheeler Wilcox</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=384443" data-title="Individuality de Ella Wheeler Wilcox" data-description="Ah yes, I love you, and with all my heart; 
 Just as a weaker woman loves her own, 
Better than I love my beloved art, 
 Which, until you came, reigned royally, alone, 
My king, my master. Since I saw your face
I have dethroned it, and you hold th..."></div>
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