Click in the field, then press CTRL+C to copy the HTML code
<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=386527" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Wanderer From The Fold</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">How few, of all the hearts that loved,<br> Are grieving for thee now; <br>And why should mine to-night be moved<br> With such a sense of woe? </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Too often thus, when left alone,<br> Where none my thoughts can see,<br>Comes back a word, a passing tone<br> From thy strange history.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Sometimes I seem to see thee rise,<br> A glorious child again; <br>All virtues beaming from thine eyes<br> That ever honoured men:</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Courage and truth, a generous breast<br> Where sinless sunshine lay:<br>A being whose very presence blest<br> Like gladsome summer-day.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">O, fairly spread thy early sail,<br> And fresh, and pure, and free,<br>Was the first impulse of the gale<br> Which urged life's wave for thee! </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Why did the pilot, too confiding,<br> Dream o'er that ocean's foam,<br>And trust in Pleasure's careless guiding<br> To bring his vessel home? </div><div style="margin:10px 0">For well he knew what dangers frowned,<br> What mists would gather, dim; <br>What rocks and shelves, and sands lay round<br> Between his port and him.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The very brightness of the sun<br> The splendour of the main,<br>The wind which bore him wildly on<br> Should not have warned in vain.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">An anxious gazer from the shore—<br> I marked the whitening wave,<br>And wept above thy fate the more<br> Because—I could not save.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">It recks not now, when all is over:<br> But yet my heart will be<br>A mourner still, though friend and lover<br> Have both forgotten thee!</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Emily+Jane+Bront%C3%AB">Emily Jane Brontë</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=386527" data-title="The Wanderer From The Fold de Emily Jane Brontë" data-description="How few, of all the hearts that loved,
 Are grieving for thee now; 
And why should mine to-night be moved
 With such a sense of woe? 

Too often thus, when left alone,
 Where none my thoughts can see,
Comes back a word, a passing tone
 From thy st..."></div>
</div>
</div>