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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=415723" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Once More</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">I had not thought again to be<br>A dreamer of such dreams as these.<br>The springtime is no more for me;<br>My summer died beyond the seas.<br>From what untimely source begin<br>These stirrings of the life within?</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I had not thought again to taste<br>The bitter sweet, the joyous pain.<br>I dreamed that I had trodden waste,<br>Beyond the power of sun or rain,<br>The soil that grew the passion fruit;—<br>Then, whence this blossom underfoot?<br>I had not thought again to see<br>Beyond the homely pale of truth;—<br>The lights and shapes of witchery,<br>That glorify the skies of youth,<br>I only know as perished things;—<br>Whence, then, this flash of angel wings?</div><div style="margin:10px 0">How spend the day, yet save the hours?<br>I had my day; the hours are fled.<br>How eat the fruit, yet hold the flowers?<br>I ate the fruit; the flowers are dead.<br>Oh, what divine or fiendish art<br>Hath twined fresh tendrils round my heart?</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I said, 'tis good to be alone,<br>No alien hand to urge or check.<br>I said, my spirit is my own,<br>To loose or bind, to save or wreck.<br>I trod on Love, called Reason lord;—<br>Lo, whence this subtle silken cord?</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Oh, who shall tell if this be strength<br>Re-risen, or ghost of old defect?<br>The truth of manhood come at length,<br>Or weakness born of purpose wrecked?<br>I only know it is the whole<br>Arch-craving of a hungry soul.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I only know that all the hordes<br>Of buried hopes and jealousies<br> <br>Are risen again and crossing swords,<br>And that 'twas but an armistice,<br>A breathing time 'twixt strife and strife,<br>Which I had deemed a peace for life.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Oh! who can tell where duty lies—<br>To urge, repress, advance, or stay?<br>To grasp at Good in Beauty's guise,<br>Or brush the pretty lure away,<br>Ere doubtful war of hopes and fears<br>Consume the hoarded strength of years?</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=James+Brunton+Stephens">James Brunton Stephens</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=415723" data-title="Once More de James Brunton Stephens" data-description="I had not thought again to be
A dreamer of such dreams as these.
The springtime is no more for me;
My summer died beyond the seas.
From what untimely source begin
These stirrings of the life within?

I had not thought again to taste
The bitter swe..."></div>
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