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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=416765" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Beautiful City</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">The Beautiful City! Forever<br>Its rapturous praises resound;<br>We fain would behold it-- but never<br>A glimpse of its dory is found:<br>We slacken our lips at the tender<br>White breasts of our mothers to hear<br>Of its marvellous beauty and splendor--;<br>We see-- but the gleam of a tear!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Yet never the story may tire us--<br>First graven in symbols of stone--<br>Rewritten on scrolls of papyrus<br>And parchment, and scattered and blown<br>By the winds of the tongues of all nations,<br>Like a litter of leaves wildly whirled<br>Down the rack of a hundred translations,<br>From the earliest lisp of the world.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">We compass the earth and the ocean,<br>From the Orient's uttermost light,<br>To where the last ripple in motion<br>Lips hem of the skirt of the night--,<br>But the Beautiful City evades us--<br>No spire of it glints in the sun--<br>No glad-bannered battlement shades us<br>When all our Journey is done.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Where lies it? We question and listen;<br>We lean from the mountain, or mast,<br>And see but dull earth, or the glisten<br>Of seas inconceivably vast:<br>The dust of the one blurs our vision,<br>The glare of the other our brain,<br>Nor city nor island Elysian<br>In all of the land or the main!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">We kneel in dim fanes where the thunders<br>Of organs tumultuous roll,<br>And the longing heart listens and wonders,<br>And the eyes look aloft from the soul:<br>But the chanson grows fainter and fainter,<br>Swoons wholly away and is dead;<br>AND our eyes only reach where the painter<br>Has dabbled a saint overhead.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The Beautiful City! O mortal,<br>Fare hopefully on in thy quest,<br>Pass down through the green grassy portal<br>That leads to the Valley of Rest;<br>There first passed the One who, in pity<br>Of all thy great yearning, awaits<br>To point out The Beautiful City,<br>And loosen the trump at the gates.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=James+Whitcomb+Riley">James Whitcomb Riley</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=416765" data-title="The Beautiful City de James Whitcomb Riley" data-description="The Beautiful City! Forever
Its rapturous praises resound;
We fain would behold it-- but never
A glimpse of its dory is found:
We slacken our lips at the tender
White breasts of our mothers to hear
Of its marvellous beauty and splendor--;
We see--..."></div>
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