<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=412578" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Isolation : A Fragment</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">My Maker shunneth me :<br>Even as a wretch stricken with leprosy,<br>So hold I pestilent supremacy.<br>Yea! He Instil fled far as the uttermost star,<br>Beyond the unperturbed fastnesses of night<br>And dreams that bastioned are<br>By fretted towers of sleep that scare His light.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Of wisdom writ, whereto<br>My burdened feet may haste withouten rue,<br>I may not spell-and I am sore to do.<br>Yea, all (seeing my Maker hath such dread),<br>Even mine own self-love, wists not but to fly<br>To Him, and sore besped<br>Leaves me, its captain, in such mutiny.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Will, deemed incorporate<br>With me, bath flown ere love, to expiate<br>Its sinful stay where He did habitate.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Ah me, if they had left a sepulchre ;<br>But no-the light bath changed not, and in it<br>Of its same colour stir<br>Spirits I see not but phantasmed feel to flit.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Air, legioned with such, stirreth,<br>So that I seem to draw them with my breath,<br>Ghouls that devour each joy they do to death,<br>Strange glimmering griefs and sorrowing silences<br>Bearing dead flowers unseen whose charnel smell<br>Great awe to my sense is<br>Even in the rose-time when all else is well.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Isaac+Rosenberg">Isaac Rosenberg</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=412578" data-title="Isolation : A Fragment de Isaac Rosenberg" data-description="My Maker shunneth me : Even as a wretch stricken with leprosy, So hold I pestilent supremacy. Yea! He Instil fled far as the uttermost star, Beyond the unperturbed fastnesses of night And dreams that bastioned are By fretted towers of sleep that s..."></div> </div> </div>

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