<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=393443" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>To A Moralist</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Are the sports of our youth so displeasing?<br> Is love but the folly you say?<br> Benumbed with the winter, and freezing,<br> You scold at the revels of May.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> For you once a nymph had her charms,<br> And Oh! when the waltz you were wreathing,<br> All Olympus embraced in your arms--<br> All its nectar in Julia's breathing.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> If Jove at that moment had hurled<br> The earth in some other rotation,<br> Along with your Julia whirled,<br> You had felt not the shock of creation.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> Learn this--that philosophy beats<br> Sure time with the pulse,--quick or slow<br> As the blood from the heyday retreats,--<br> But it cannot make gods of us--No!</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> It is well icy reason should thaw<br> In the warm blood of mirth now and then,<br> The gods for themselves have a law<br> Which they never intended for men.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> The spirit is bound by the ties<br> Of its gaoler, the flesh;--if I can<br> Not reach as an angel the skies,<br> Let me feel on the earth as a man!</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=393443" data-title="To A Moralist de Friedrich Schiller" data-description="Are the sports of our youth so displeasing? Is love but the folly you say? Benumbed with the winter, and freezing, You scold at the revels of May. For you once a nymph had her charms, And Oh! when the waltz you were wreathing, All Olympus e..."></div> </div> </div>

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