<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=391965" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Clock</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Far away is one who now is sleeping<br>In the same world and the same darkness,<br>But not in my keeping.<br>Oh no, my arms could never stretch so far<br>And my hands trembling with tenderness<br>Cannot hope to caress<br>Her limbs, save by remembering what they arc.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Oh no, my words must never reach her ears<br>That lie so white against her sombre hair,<br>No, no, she must not hear<br>My voice that has no happiness to bring,<br>For she also is lost in a realm where<br>My cry and my despair<br>Are out of tune whatever song they sing.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Perhaps as I lie waking she is dreaming,<br>But not of me, for dreams are not so kind;<br>While my eyes arc brimming<br>With images of things that might have been,<br>And my lips for a prayer for her peace of mind<br>That, early, she may find<br>A love more delicate and more serene.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And all my body prays her to forget<br>One who long cared for her too bitterly,<br>One who is in her debt<br>For the clock of suffering that kept, twelve years<br>The hours of absence and futility,<br>Who could love utterly<br>Beyond the meaning of these words and tears.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Francis+Scarfe">Francis Scarfe</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=391965" data-title="The Clock de Francis Scarfe" data-description="Far away is one who now is sleeping In the same world and the same darkness, But not in my keeping. Oh no, my arms could never stretch so far And my hands trembling with tenderness Cannot hope to caress Her limbs, save by remembering what they arc..."></div> </div> </div>

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