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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=396848" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Pictures Of The Rhine</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">I </div><div style="margin:10px 0">The spirit of Romance dies not to those <br>Who hold a kindred spirit in their souls: <br>Even as the odorous life within the rose <br>Lives in the scattered leaflets and controls <br>Mysterious adoration, so there glows <br>Above dead things a thing that cannot die; <br>Faint as the glimmer of a tearful eye, <br>Ere the orb fills and all the sorrow flows. <br>Beauty renews itself in many ways; <br>The flower is fading while the new bud blows; <br>And this dear land as true a symbol shows, <br>While o'er it like a mellow sunset strays <br>The legendary splendour of old days, <br>In visible, inviolate repose. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">II </div><div style="margin:10px 0">About a mile behind the viny banks, <br>How sweet it was, upon a sloping green, <br>Sunspread, and shaded with a branching screen, <br>To lie in peace half-murmuring words of thanks! <br>To see the mountains on each other climb, <br>With spaces for rich meadows flowery bright; <br>The winding river freshening the sight <br>At intervals, the trees in leafy prime; <br>The distant village-roofs of blue and white, <br>With intersections of quaint-fashioned beams <br>All slanting crosswise, and the feudal gleams <br>Of ruined turrets, barren in the light; - <br>To watch the changing clouds, like clime in clime; <br>Oh sweet to lie and bless the luxury of time. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">III </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Fresh blows the early breeze, our sail is full; <br>A merry morning and a mighty tide. <br>Cheerily O! and past St. Goar we glide, <br>Half hid in misty dawn and mountain cool. <br>The river is our own! and now the sun <br>In saffron clothes the warming atmosphere; <br>The sky lifts up her white veil like a nun, <br>And looks upon the landscape blue and clear; - <br>The lark is up; the hills, the vines in sight; <br>The river broadens with his waking bliss <br>And throws up islands to behold the light; <br>Voices begin to rise, all hues to kiss; - <br>Was ever such a happy morn as this! <br>Birds sing, we shout, flowers breathe, trees shine with one delight! </div><div style="margin:10px 0">IV </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Between the two white breasts of her we love, <br>A dewy blushing rose will sometimes spring; <br>Thus Nonnenwerth like an enchanted thing <br>Rises mid-stream the crystal depths above. <br>On either side the waters heave and swell, <br>But all is calm within the little Isle; <br>Content it is to give its holy smile, <br>And bless with peace the lives that in it dwell. <br>Most dear on the dark grass beneath its bower <br>Of kindred trees embracing branch and bough, <br>To dream of fairy foot and sudden flower; <br>Or haply with a twilight on the brow, <br>To muse upon the legendary hour, <br>And Roland's lonely love and Hildegard's sad vow. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">V </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Hark! how the bitter winter breezes blow <br>Round the sharp rocks and o'er the half-lifted wave, <br>While all the rocky woodland branches rave <br>Shrill with the piercing cold, and every cave, <br>Along the icy water-margin low, <br>Rings bubbling with the whirling overflow; <br>And sharp the echoes answer distant cries <br>Of dawning daylight and the dim sunrise, <br>And the gloom-coloured clouds that stain the skies <br>With pictures of a warmth, and frozen glow <br>Spread over endless fields of sheeted snow; <br>And white untrodden mountains shining cold, <br>And muffled footpaths winding thro' the wold, <br>O'er which those wintry gusts cease not to howl and blow. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">VI </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Rare is the loveliness of slow decay! <br>With youth and beauty all must be desired, <br>But 'tis the charm of things long past away, <br>They leave, alone, the light they have inspired: <br>The calmness of a picture; Memory now <br>Is the sole life among the ruins grey, <br>And like a phantom in fantastic play <br>She wanders with rank weeds stuck on her brow, <br>Over grass-hidden caves and turret-tops, <br>Herself almost as tottering as they; <br>While, to the steps of Time, her latest props <br>Fall stone by stone, and in the Sun's hot ray <br>All that remains stands up in rugged pride, <br>And bridal vines drink in his juices on each side.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=George+Meredith">George Meredith</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=396848" data-title="Pictures Of The Rhine de George Meredith" data-description="I 

The spirit of Romance dies not to those 
Who hold a kindred spirit in their souls: 
Even as the odorous life within the rose 
Lives in the scattered leaflets and controls 
Mysterious adoration, so there glows 
Above dead things a thing that ca..."></div>
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