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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=409767" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Skeleton in Armor</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">&quot;Speak! speak! thou fearful guest! <br>Who, with thy hollow breast <br>Still in rude armor drest, <br>Comest to daunt me! <br>Wrapt not in eastern balms, <br>But with thy fleshless palms <br>Stretched, as if asking alms, <br>Why dost thou haunt me?&quot; </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Then from those cavernous eyes <br>Pale flashes seemed to rise, <br>As when the northern skies <br>Gleam in December; <br>And, like the water's flow <br>Under December's snow, <br>Came a dull voice of woe <br>From the heart's chamber. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">&quot;I was a Viking old! <br>My deeds, though manifold, <br>No Skald in song has told, <br>No Saga taught thee! <br>Take heed, that in thy verse <br>Thou dost the tale rehearse, <br>Else drear a dead man's curse; <br>For this I sought thee. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">&quot;Far in the Northern Land, <br>By the wild Baltic's strand, <br>I, with my childish hand, <br>Tamed the gerfalcon; <br>And, with my skates fast-bound, <br>Skimmed the half-frozen Sound, <br>That the poor whimpering hound <br>Trembled to walk on. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">&quot;Oft to his frozen lair <br>Tracked I the grisly bear, <br>While from my path the hare <br>Fled like a shadow; <br>Oft through the forest dark <br>Followed the were-wolf's bark, <br>Until the soaring lark <br>Sang from the meadow. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">&quot;But when I older grew, <br>Joining a corsair's crew, <br>O'er the dark sea flew <br>With the marauders. <br>Wild was the life we led; <br>Many the sould that sped, <br>Many the hearts that bled, <br>By our stern orders. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">&quot;Manu a wassail bout <br>Wore the long Winter out; <br>Often our midnight shout <br>Set the cocks crowing; <br>As we the Berserk's tale <br>Measured in cups of ale, <br>Draining the oaken pail, <br>Filled to o'erflowing. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">&quot;Once as I told in glee <br>Tales of the stormy sea, <br>Soft eyes did gaze on me, <br>Burning yet tender; <br>And as the white stars shine <br>On the dark Norway pine, <br>On that dark heart of mine <br>Fell their soft splendor. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">&quot;I wooed the blue-eyed maid, <br>Yielding, yet half afraid, <br>And in the forests shade <br>Our vows were plighted. <br>Under its loosened vest <br>Fluttered her little breast, <br>Like birds within their nest <br>By the hawk frighted. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">&quot;Bright in her father's hall <br>Shields gleamed upon the wall, <br>Loud sang the minstrels all, <br>Chanting his glory; <br>When of old Hildebrand <br>I asked his daughter's hand, <br>Mute did the minstrels stand <br>To hear my story. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">&quot;While the brown ale he quaffed, <br>Loud then the champion laughed, <br>And as the wind-gusts waft <br>The sea-foam brightly, <br>So the loud laugh of scorn, <br>Out of those lips unshorn, <br>From the deep drinking-horn <br>Blew the foam lightly. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">&quot;She was a Prince's child, <br>I but a Viking wild, <br>And though she blushed and smiled, <br>I was discarded! <br>Should not the dove so white <br>Follow the sea-mew's flight, <br>Why did they leave that night <br>Her nest unguarded? </div><div style="margin:10px 0">&quot;Scarce had I put to sea, <br>Bearing the maid with me, <br>Fairest of all was she <br>Among the Norsemen! <br>When on the white sea-strand, <br>Waving his armèd hand, <br>Saw we old Hildebrand, <br>With twenty horsemen. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">&quot;Then launched they to the blast, <br>Bent like a reed each mast, <br>Yet we were gaining fast, <br>When the wind failed us; <br>And with a sudden flaw <br>Came round the gusty Skaw, <br>So that our foe we saw <br>Laugh as he hailed us. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">&quot;And as to catch the gale <br>Round veered the flapping sail, <br>'Death!' was the helmsman's hail, <br>'Death without quarter!' <br>Mid-ships with iron keel <br>Struck we her ribs of steel; <br>Down her black hulk did reel <br>Through the black water! </div><div style="margin:10px 0">&quot;As with his wings aslant, <br>Sails the fierce cororant, <br>Seeking some rocky haunt, <br>With its prey laden,-- <br>So toward the open main, <br>Beating to sea again, <br>Through the wild hurricane, <br>Bore I the maiden. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">&quot;Three weeks we westward bore, <br>And when the storm was o'er, <br>Cloud-like we saw the shore <br>Stretching to leeward; <br>There for my lady's bower <br>Built there the lofty tower, <br>Which, to this very hour <br>Stands looking seaward. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">&quot;There lived we many years; <br>Time dried the maiden's tears; <br>She had forgot her fears; <br>She was a mother; <br>Death closed her mild blue eyes, <br>Under that tower she lies; <br>Ne'er shall the sun arise <br>On such another! </div><div style="margin:10px 0">&quot;Still grew my bosom then, <br>Still as a stagnant fen! <br>Hateful to me were men, <br>The sunlight hateful! <br>In the vast forest here, <br>Clad in my warlike gear, <br>Fell I upon my spear, <br>Oh, death was greatful! </div><div style="margin:10px 0">&quot;Thus, seamed with my scars, <br>Bursting these prison bars, <br>Up to its native stars <br>My soul ascended! <br>There from the flowing bowl <br>Deep drinks the warrior's soul, <br>Skoal! to the Northland! skoal!&quot; <br>Thus the tale ended.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Henry+Wadsworth+Longfellow">Henry Wadsworth Longfellow</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=409767" data-title="The Skeleton in Armor de Henry Wadsworth Longfellow" data-description="&quot;Speak! speak! thou fearful guest! 
Who, with thy hollow breast 
Still in rude armor drest, 
Comest to daunt me! 
Wrapt not in eastern balms, 
But with thy fleshless palms 
Stretched, as if asking alms, 
Why dost thou haunt me?&quot; 

Then f..."></div>
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