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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=420709" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Henchman</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">My lady walks her morning round,<br>My lady's page her fleet greyhound,<br>My lady's hair the fond winds stir,<br>And all the birds make songs for her.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Her thrushes sing in Rathburn bowers,<br>And Rathburn side is gay with flowers;<br>But ne'er like hers, in flower or bird,<br>Was beauty seen or music heard.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The distance of the stars is hers;<br>The least of all her worshippers,<br>The dust beneath her dainty heel,<br>She knows not that I see or feel.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Oh, proud and calm!-she cannot know<br>Where'er she goes with her I go;<br>Oh, cold and fair!-she cannot guess<br>I kneel to share her hound's caress!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Gay knights beside her hunt and hawk,<br>I rob their ears of her sweet talk;<br>Her suitors come from east and west,<br>I steal her smiles from every guest.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Unheard of her, in loving words,<br>I greet her with the song of birds;<br>I reach her with her green-armed bowers,<br>I kiss her with the lips of flowers.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The hound and I are on her trail,<br>The wind and I uplift her veil;<br>As if the calm, cold moon she were,<br>And I the tide, I follow her.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">As unrebuked as they, I share<br>The license of the sun and air,<br>And in a common homage hide<br>My worship from her scorn and pride.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">World-wide apart, and yet so near,<br>I breathe her charmed atmosphere,<br>Wherein to her my service brings<br>The reverence due to holy things.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Her maiden pride, her haughty name,<br>My dumb devotion shall not shame;<br>The love that no return doth crave<br>To knightly levels lifts the slave,</div><div style="margin:10px 0">No lance have I, in joust or fight,<br>To splinter in my lady's sight<br>But, at her feet, how blest were I<br>For any need of hers to die!</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=John+Greenleaf+Whittier">John Greenleaf Whittier</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=420709" data-title="The Henchman de John Greenleaf Whittier" data-description="My lady walks her morning round,
My lady's page her fleet greyhound,
My lady's hair the fond winds stir,
And all the birds make songs for her.

Her thrushes sing in Rathburn bowers,
And Rathburn side is gay with flowers;
But ne'er like hers, in fl..."></div>
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