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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=416863" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Wandering Jew</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">The stars are falling, and the sky<br>Is like a field of faded flowers;<br>The winds on weary wings go by;<br>The moon hides, and the tempest lowers;<br>And still through every clime and age<br>I wander on a pilgrimage<br>That all men know an idle quest,<br>For that the goal I seek is-- Rest!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I hear the voice of summer streams,<br>And following, I find the brink<br>Of cooling springs, with childish dreams<br>Returning as I bend to drink--<br>But suddenly, with startled eyes,<br>My face looks on its grim disguise<br>Of long gray beard; and so, distressed,<br>I hasten on, nor taste of rest.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I come upon a merry group<br>Of children in the dusky wood,<br>Who answer back the owlet's whoop,<br>That laughs as it had understood;<br>And I would pause a little space,<br>But that each happy blossom-face<br>Is like to one His hands have blessed<br>Who sent me forth in search of rest.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Sometimes I fain would stay my feet<br>In shady lanes, where huddled kine<br>Couch in the grasses cool and sweet,<br>And lift their patient eyes to mine;<br>But I, for thoughts that ever then<br>Go back to Bethlehem again,<br>Must needs fare on my weary quest,<br>And weep for very need of rest.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Is there no end? I plead in vain:<br>Lost worlds nor living answer me.<br>Since Pontius Pilate's awful reign<br>Have I not passed eternity?<br>Have I not drunk the fetid breath<br>Of every fevered phase of death,<br>And come unscathed through every pest<br>And scourge and plague that promised rest?</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Have I not seen the stars go out<br>That shed their light o'er Galilee,<br>And mighty kingdoms tossed about<br>And crumbled clod-like in the sea?<br>Dead ashes of dead ages blow<br>And cover me like drifting snow,<br>And time laughs on as 'twere a jest<br>That I have any need of rest.</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=416863" data-title="The Wandering Jew de James Whitcomb Riley" data-description="The stars are falling, and the sky
Is like a field of faded flowers;
The winds on weary wings go by;
The moon hides, and the tempest lowers;
And still through every clime and age
I wander on a pilgrimage
That all men know an idle quest,
For that t..."></div>
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