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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=396110" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>From Anacreon: 'Twas Now The Hour When Night Had Driven</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Twas now the hour when Night had driven<br>Her car half round yon sable heaven;<br>Boötes, only, seem'd to roll<br>His arctic charge around the pole;<br>While mortals, lost in gentle sleep,<br>Forgot to smile, or ceased to weep:<br>At this lone hour the Paphian boy,<br>Descending from the realms of joy,<br>Quick to my gate directs his course,<br>And knocks with all his little force.<br>My visions fled, alarm'd I rose,--<br>'What stranger breaks my blest repose?'<br>'Alas!' replies the wily child,<br>In faltering accents sweetly mild,<br>'A hapless infant here I roam,<br>Far from my dear maternal home.<br>Oh! shield me from the wintry blast!<br>The nightly storm is pouring fast.<br>No prowling robber lingers here.<br>A wandering baby who can fear?'<br>I heard his seeming artless tale,<br>I heard his sighs upon the gale:<br>My breast was never pity's foe,<br>But felt for all the baby's woe.<br>I drew the bar, and by the light<br>Young Love, the infant, met my sight;<br>His bow across his shoulders flung,<br>And thence his fatal quiver hung<br>(Ah! little did I think the dart<br>Would rankle soon within my heart).<br>With care I tend my weary guest,<br>His little fingers chill my breast;<br>His glossy curls, his azure wing,<br>Which droop with nightly showers, I wring;<br>His shivering limbs the embers warm;<br>And now reviving from the storm,<br>Scarce had he felt his wonted glow,<br>Than swift he seized his slender bow:-<br>'I fain would know, my gentle host,'<br>He cried, 'if this its strength has lost;<br>I fear, relax'd with midnight dews,<br>The strings their former aid refuse.'<br>With poison tipt, his arrow flies,<br>Deep in my tortured heart it lies:<br>Then loud the joyous urchin laugh'd:-<br>'My bow can still impel the shaft:<br>'Tis firmly fix'd, thy sighs reveal it;<br>Say, courteous host, canst thou not feel it?'</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Byron">Byron</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=396110" data-title="From Anacreon: 'Twas Now The Hour When Night Had Driven de Byron" data-description="'Twas now the hour when Night had driven
Her car half round yon sable heaven;
Boötes, only, seem'd to roll
His arctic charge around the pole;
While mortals, lost in gentle sleep,
Forgot to smile, or ceased to weep:
At this lone hour the Paphian b..."></div>
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