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=403062" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>For A Child</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">E. H. M.<br>Nov. 17th, 1890—Feb. 13th, 1904</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Still he lies,<br>Pale, wan, and strangely wise. <br>Under the white coverlet <br>He lies here sleeping yet, <br>Though it is day, <br>Though through the window flares the gaudy day.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">With red red roses strewn— <br>Little red roses smelling sweet of June— <br>He sleeps the winter dawn away. <br>The pink and gilded valentines are there <br>He fingered yesterday; <br>The toy beasts guard him unaware— <br>Jumbo the elephant, and Watch the dog, <br>And Strawberry the big brown furry bear—<br>The three he kept with him,<br>Who always slept with him,<br>Sleep not but stare, like shore lights in a fog.<br>All is the same—<br>Table and chairs, the picture in its frame,<br>The books with covers gay,<br>And now, the day!—<br>There through the window flares the gaudy day.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Would it were night, since in my heart is night;<br>Softly-caressing, blinding, deadening night, <br>That won him from me! Would that we—we two,<br>Wound close together soft in folds of white, <br>Were buried deep in darkness! From the night <br>Love called him years ago—from the dim blue <br>Of shadow-souls that throng about the earth <br>Waiting for birth. <br>And when the moons were run, <br>Through blackest night, the windy night of pain, <br>We rose—we twain— <br>Into the path of the sun,<br>And saw God pass to light the world anew.<br>Now all is done,<br>The torch is burned away—<br>Yet it is day!<br>Now through the window flares the gaudy day.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Did you speak, little one? <br>At your locked lips I listen evermore. <br>Say, do you play upon the starry floor, <br>And pluck the anemone and asphodel <br>In happy groves, a happy child forever? <br>Will you not tell? <br>Or in some spirit world, melodious, clear, <br>Where life, at truce with death, shall perish never—<br>There, in high union with harmonious powers, <br>Will your fair soul to perfect stature rear <br>And wisdom of a man? And will you be <br>God's hero, riding out the sun-long hours <br>To bear to captive stars their liberty? <br>Or in the heaven of heavens, <br>Ringed round with seraphim by threes and sevens,<br>Wrapt deep in holiness intolerable,<br>Will you the glory of God in raptures tell<br>Of praise, praise—joy and praise,<br>Through the unending days?<br>My little one, will you not speak to me—<br>To me, who ever heard<br>Your softest baby word?<br>Will you tell nothing—nothing? Can you be<br>Forgetful now and shut your eyes away—<br>Now it is day,<br>Now through the window flares the gaudy day?</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Me ignorant and impotent and blind ! <br>I look before and after, and unwind <br>Intricate webs of thought, <br>By saints and sages wrought, <br>Only to weave a vapor of the mind <br>Here between you and me. <br>All weariness, except that on my breast <br>Your warm and rosy flesh could softly rest, <br>And now my dazed eyes see, <br>Tricked out in mockery, <br>A heap of ashes marbled with your smile. <br>Almost I hear the patter of little feet </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Your dancing hours repeat.<br>Almost I hear<br>Your twitter of laughter at my ear,<br>And suddenly feel soft arms around me,<br>As though love crowned me.<br>Dreams of the night, softly they flit away,<br>For it is day—<br>Now through the window flares the gaudy day.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Alone—alone—<br>Smiling you dare set forth, quick to the call. <br>Out of my arms into that far unknown <br>Swiftly you run, nor seem to fear at all. <br>Don't you know we are one—yes, bone of bone,<br>Flesh of my flesh, soul of my very soul? <br>Whither thou goest I must go, or be <br>A coward thing, ever at war with thee, <br>Laggard and lost while thou art at the goal.<br>Ah, leave me not now at the sunrise hour! <br>Pause but to take my hand <br>And give the high indomitable command, <br>And I will mount with thee the topmost tower. <br>Show me the way,<br>Now it is day—<br>Now through the window flares the gaudy day.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Ah, dost thou rise before me, <br>Braver than I to meet the intrepid morn? <br>Dost thou implore me <br>To shut thy silent shadow-house forlorn, <br>And turn me from its locked and leaden gate <br>With heart elate? <br>Oh, shall I don my jewelled robe, and so, <br>With flourish of flutes and banners all aglow, <br>Forth to the triumph go? <br>The hills are hung with purple mist <br>Beyond thy sepulchre. <br>There death and life have newly kissed, <br>For thou art early astir. <br>There, wedded now who once were twain, <br>From truth to truth they rise, <br>And thou shalt lead me in their train <br>And teach me to be wise. <br>Not far, not far <br>I follow where thy footsteps are, <br>And take from thee <br>The cup of immortality. <br>Here in my little place— <br>My little house of time and space— <br>Why should I stay— <br>Now it is day, <br>Now through the window flares the day—the day?<br>In crimson and gold arrayed, <br>Royal and unafraid, <br>It comes as for the bridal of a queen; <br>And far before its feet <br>The dawn on pinions fleet <br>Spreads wide the path of life, with joy serene. <br>Beautiful art thou, beautiful and brave— <br>In vain they dig thy grave. <br>Thy soul in glory moves, the foremost one <br>To scale the sun. <br>And now—and now <br>I kiss thy tranquil brow, <br>And go apace <br>Out in the light to find thy dwelling place. <br>Now we are bound no more— <br>Beyond the farthest shore, <br>And never stray, <br>For it is day— <br>Now through the darkness flares the day—the day.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">In crimson and gold arrayed,<br>Royal and unafraid,<br>It comes as for the bridal of a queen;<br>And far before its feet<br>The dawn on pinions fleet<br>Spreads wide the path of life, with joy serene.<br>Beautiful art thou, beautiful and brave—<br>In vain they dig thy grave.<br>Thy soul in glory moves, the foremost one<br>Toscale the sun.<br>And now—and now<br>I kiss thy tranquil brow,<br>And go apace<br>Out in the light to find thy dwelling place.<br>Now we are bound no more—<br>I follow thee beyond the rim of space,<br>Beyond the farthest shore,<br>And never stray, <br>Fir it is day—<br>Now through the darkness flares the day—the day.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Harriet+Monroe">Harriet Monroe</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=403062" data-title="For A Child de Harriet Monroe" data-description="E. H. M.
Nov. 17th, 1890—Feb. 13th, 1904

Still he lies,
Pale, wan, and strangely wise. 
Under the white coverlet 
He lies here sleeping yet, 
Though it is day, 
Though through the window flares the gaudy day.

With red red roses strewn— 
Litt..."></div>
</div>
</div>