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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=384488" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Mesalliance</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">I am troubled to-night with a curious pain;</div><div style="margin:10px 0">It is not of the flesh, it is not of the brain,</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Nor yet of a heart that is breaking:</div><div style="margin:10px 0">But down still deeper, and out of sight—</div><div style="margin:10px 0">In the place where the soul and the body unite—</div><div style="margin:10px 0">There lies the scat of the aching.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">They have been lovers in days gone by;</div><div style="margin:10px 0">But the soul is fickle, and longs to fly</div><div style="margin:10px 0">From the fettering mesalliance:</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And she tears at the bonds which are binding her so,</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And pleads with the body to let her go,</div><div style="margin:10px 0">But he will not yield compliance.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">For the body loves, as he loved in the past,</div><div style="margin:10px 0">When he wedded the soul; and he holds her fast,</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And swears that he will not loose her;</div><div style="margin:10px 0">That he will keep her and hide her away</div><div style="margin:10px 0">For ever and ever and for a day</div><div style="margin:10px 0">From the arms of Death, the seducer.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Ah! this is the strife that is wearying me—</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The strife 'twixt a soul that would be free</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And a body that will not let her.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And I say to my soul, 'Be calm, and wait;</div><div style="margin:10px 0">For I tell ye truly that soon or late</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Ye surely shall drop each fetter.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And I say to the body, 'Be kind, I pray;</div><div style="margin:10px 0">For the soul is not of thy mortal clay,</div><div style="margin:10px 0">But is formed in spirit fashion.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And still through the hours of the solemn night</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I can hear my sad soul's plea for flight,</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And my body's reply of passion.</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=384488" data-title="Mesalliance de Ella Wheeler Wilcox" data-description="I am troubled to-night with a curious pain;

It is not of the flesh, it is not of the brain,

Nor yet of a heart that is breaking:

But down still deeper, and out of sight—

In the place where the soul and the body unite—

There lies the scat ..."></div>
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