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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=386724" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>To Carmen Sylva</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Oh, that the golden lyre divine<br>Whence David smote flame-tones were mine!<br>Oh, that the silent harp which hung<br>Untuned, unstrung,<br>Upon the willows by the river,<br>Would throb beneath my touch and quiver<br>With the old song-enchanted spell<br>Of Israel!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Oh, that the large prophetic Voice<br>Would make my reed-piped throat its choice!<br>All ears should prick, all hearts should spring,<br>To hear me sing<br>The burden of the isles, the word<br>Assyria knew, Damascus heard,<br>When, like the wind, while cedars shake,<br>Isaiah spake.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">For I would frame a song to-day<br>Winged like a bird to cleave its way<br>O'er land and sea that spread between,<br>To where a Queen<br>Sits with a triple coronet.<br>Genius and Sorrow both have set<br>Their diadems above the gold-<br>A Queen three-fold!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">To her the forest lent its lyre,<br>Hers are the sylvan dews, the fire<br>Of Orient suns, the mist-wreathed gleams<br>?????? Of mountain streams.<br>She, the imperial Rhine's own child,<br>Takes to her heart the wood-nymph wild,<br>The gypsy Pelech, and the wide,<br>White Danube's tide.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">She who beside an infant's bier<br>Long since resigned all hope to hear<br>The sacred name of 'Mother' bless<br>Her childlessness,<br>Now from a people's sole acclaim<br>Receives the heart-vibrating name,<br>And 'Mother, Mother, Mother!' fills<br>The echoing hills.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Yet who is he who pines apart,<br>Estranged from that maternal heart,<br>Ungraced, unfriended, and forlorn,<br>The butt of scorn?<br>An alien in his land of birth,<br>An outcast from his brethren's earth,<br>Albeit with theirs his blood mixed well<br>When Plevna fell?</div><div style="margin:10px 0">When all Roumania's chains were riven,<br>When unto all his sons was given<br>The hero's glorious reward,<br>Reaped by the sword,-<br>Wherefore was this poor thrall, whose chains<br>Hung heaviest, within whose veins<br>The oldest blood of freedom streamed,<br>Still unredeemed?</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>O Mother, Poet, Queen in one!<br>Pity and save-he is thy son.<br>For poet David's sake, the king<br>Of all who sing;<br>For thine own people's sake who share<br>His law, his truth, his praise, his prayer;<br>For his sake who was sacrificed-<br>His brother-Christ!</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Emma+Lazarus">Emma Lazarus</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=386724" data-title="To Carmen Sylva de Emma Lazarus" data-description="Oh, that the golden lyre divine
Whence David smote flame-tones were mine!
Oh, that the silent harp which hung
Untuned, unstrung,
Upon the willows by the river,
Would throb beneath my touch and quiver
With the old song-enchanted spell
Of Israel!

O..."></div>
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