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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=386578" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Nocturne</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Night of Mid-June, in heavy vapours dying, <br>Like priestly hands thy holy touch is lying <br>Upon the world's wide brow; <br>God-like and grand all nature is commanding <br>The &quot;peace that passes human understanding&quot;; <br>I, also, feel it now. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">What matters it to-night, if one life treasure <br>I covet, is not mine! Am I to measure <br>The gifts of Heaven's decree <br>By my desires? O! life for ever longing <br>For some far gift, where many gifts are thronging, <br>God wills, it may not be. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Am I to learn that longing, lifted higher, <br>Perhaps will catch the gleam of sacred fire <br>That shows my cross is gold? <br>That underneath this cross--however lowly, <br>A jewel rests, white, beautiful and holy, <br>Whose worth can not be told. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Like to a scene I watched one day in wonder:-- <br>A city, great and powerful, lay under <br>A sky of grey and gold; <br>The sun outbreaking in his farewell hour, <br>Was scattering afar a yellow shower <br>Of light, that aureoled </div><div style="margin:10px 0">With brief hot touch, so marvellous and shining, <br>A hundred steeples on the sky out-lining, <br>Like network threads of fire; <br>Above them all, with halo far outspreading, <br>I saw a golden cross in glory heading <br>A consecrated spire: </div><div style="margin:10px 0">I only saw its gleaming form uplifting, <br>Against the clouds of grey to seaward drifting, <br>And yet I surely know <br>Beneath the seen, a great unseen is resting, <br>For while the cross that pinnacle is cresting, <br>An Altar lies below. </div><div style="margin:10px 0"> . . . . . </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Night of Mid-June, so slumberous and tender, <br>Night of Mid-June, transcendent in thy splendour <br>Thy silent wings enfold <br>And hush my longing, as at thy desire <br>All colour fades from round that far-off spire, <br>Except its cross of gold.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Emily+Pauline+Johnson">Emily Pauline Johnson</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=386578" data-title="Nocturne de Emily Pauline Johnson" data-description="Night of Mid-June, in heavy vapours dying, 
Like priestly hands thy holy touch is lying 
Upon the world's wide brow; 
God-like and grand all nature is commanding 
The &quot;peace that passes human understanding&quot;; 
I, also, feel it now. 

What..."></div>
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