<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=390134" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Sapientia Lunae</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">The wisdom of the world said unto me:<br>'_Go forth and run, the race is to the brave;<br>Perchance some honour tarrieth for thee!_'<br>'As tarrieth,' I said, 'for sure, the grave.'<br>For I had pondered on a rune of roses,<br>Which to her votaries the moon discloses.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The wisdom of the world said: '_There are bays:<br>Go forth and run, for victory is good,<br>After the stress of the laborious days._'<br>'Yet,' said I, 'shall I be the worms' sweet food,'<br>As I went musing on a rune of roses,<br>Which in her hour, the pale, soft moon discloses.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Then said my voices: '_Wherefore strive or run,<br>On dusty highways ever, a vain race?<br>The long night cometh, starless, void of sun,<br>What light shall serve thee like her golden face?_'<br>For I had pondered on a rune of roses,<br>And knew some secrets which the moon discloses.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Yea,' said I, 'for her eyes are pure and sweet<br>As lilies, and the fragrance of her hair<br>Is many laurels; and it is not meet<br>To run for shadows when the prize is here';<br>And I went reading in that rune of roses<br>Which to her votaries the moon discloses.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Ernest+Christopher+Dowson">Ernest Christopher Dowson</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=390134" data-title="Sapientia Lunae de Ernest Christopher Dowson" data-description="The wisdom of the world said unto me: '_Go forth and run, the race is to the brave; Perchance some honour tarrieth for thee!_' 'As tarrieth,' I said, 'for sure, the grave.' For I had pondered on a rune of roses, Which to her votaries the moon disc..."></div> </div> </div>

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