Click in the field, then press CTRL+C to copy the HTML code
Copy
<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=420743" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Minister’s Daughter</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">In the minister's morning sermon<br>He had told of the primal fall,<br>And how thenceforth the wrath of God<br>Rested on each and all.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And how of His will and pleasure,<br>All souls, save a chosen few,<br>Were doomed to the quenchless burning,<br>And held in the way thereto.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Yet never by faith's unreason<br>A saintlier soul was tried,<br>And never the harsh old lesson<br>A tenderer heart belied.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And, after the painful service<br>On that pleasant Sabbath day,<br>He walked with his little daughter<br>Through the apple-bloom of May.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Sweet in the fresh green meadows<br>Sparrow and blackbird sung;<br>Above him their tinted petals<br>The blossoming orchards hung.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Around on the wonderful glory<br>The minister looked and smiled;<br>'How good is the Lord who gives us<br>These gifts from His hand, my child.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Behold in the bloom of apples<br>And the violets in the sward<br>A hint of the old, lost beauty<br>Of the Garden of the Lord!'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Then up spake the little maiden,<br>Treading on snow and pink<br>'O father! these pretty blossoms<br>Are very wicked, I think.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Had there been no Garden of Eden<br>There never had been a fall;<br>And if never a tree had blossomed<br>God would have loved us all.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Hush, child!' the father answered,<br>'By His decree man fell;<br>His ways are in clouds and darkness,<br>But He doeth all things well.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'And whether by His ordaining<br>To us cometh good or ill,<br>Joy or pain, or light or shadow,<br>We must fear and love Him still.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Oh, I fear Him!' said the daughter,<br>'And I try to love Him, too;<br>But I wish He was good and gentle,<br>Kind and loving as you.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The minister groaned in spirit<br>As the tremulous lips of pain<br>And wide, wet eyes uplifted<br>Questioned his own in vain.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Bowing his head he pondered<br>The words of the little one;<br>Had he erred in his life-long teaching?<br>Had he wrong to his Master done?</div><div style="margin:10px 0">To what grim and dreadful idol<br>Had he lent the holiest name?<br>Did his own heart, loving and human,<br>The God of his worship shame?</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And lo! from the bloom and greenness,<br>From the tender skies above,<br>And the face of his little daughter,<br>He read a lesson of love.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">No more as the cloudy terror<br>Of Sinai's mount of law,<br>But as Christ in the Syrian lilies<br>The vision of God he saw.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And, as when, in the clefts of Horeb,<br>Of old was His presence known,<br>The dread Ineffable Glory<br>Was Infinite Goodness alone.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Thereafter his hearers noted<br>In his prayers a tenderer strain,<br>And never the gospel of hatred<br>Burned on his lips again.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And the scoffing tongue was prayerful,<br>And the blinded eyes found sight,<br>And hearts, as flint aforetime,<br>Grew soft in his warmth and light.</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> <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=420743" data-title="The Minister’s Daughter de John Greenleaf Whittier" data-description="In the minister's morning sermon He had told of the primal fall, And how thenceforth the wrath of God Rested on each and all. And how of His will and pleasure, All souls, save a chosen few, Were doomed to the quenchless burning, And held in the w..."></div> </div> </div>
solid border
dashed border
dotted border
double border
groove border
ridge border
inset border
outset border
no border
blue
green
red
purple
cyan
gold
silver
black