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=393388" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Favor Of The Moment</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Once more, then, we meet<br> In the circles of yore;<br>Let our song be as sweet<br> In its wreaths as before,<br>Who claims the first place<br> In the tribute of song?<br>The God to whose grace<br> All our pleasures belong.<br>Though Ceres may spread<br> All her gifts on the shrine,<br>Though the glass may be red<br> With the blush of the vine,<br>What boots--if the while<br> Fall no spark on the hearth;<br>If the heart do not smile<br> With the instinct of mirth?--<br>From the clouds, from God's breast<br> Must our happiness fall,<br>'Mid the blessed, most blest<br> Is the moment of all!<br>Since creation began<br> All that mortals have wrought,<br>All that's godlike in man<br> Comes--the flash of a thought!<br>For ages the stone<br> In the quarry may lurk,<br>An instant alone<br> Can suffice to the work;<br>An impulse give birth<br> To the child of the soul,<br>A glance stamp the worth<br> And the fame of the whole.<br>On the arch that she buildeth<br> From sunbeams on high,<br>As Iris just gildeth,<br> And fleets from the sky,<br>So shineth, so gloometh<br> Each gift that is ours;<br>The lightning illumeth--<br> The darkness devours!</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Friedrich+Schiller">Friedrich Schiller</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=393388" data-title="The Favor Of The Moment de Friedrich Schiller" data-description="Once more, then, we meet
 In the circles of yore;
Let our song be as sweet
 In its wreaths as before,
Who claims the first place
 In the tribute of song?
The God to whose grace
 All our pleasures belong.
Though Ceres may spread
 All her gifts on t..."></div>
</div>
</div>