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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=420784" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Reward</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Who, looking backward from his manhood's prime,<br>Sees not the spectre of his misspent time?<br>And, through the shade<br>Of funeral cypress planted thick behind,<br>Hears no reproachful whisper on the wind<br>From his loved dead?</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Who bears no trace of passion's evil force?<br>Who shuns thy sting, O terrible Remorse?<br>Who does not cast<br>On the thronged pages of his memory's book,<br>At times, a sad and half-reluctant look,<br>Regretful of the past?</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Alas! the evil which we fain would shun<br>We do, and leave the wished-for good undone<br>Our strength to-day<br>Is but to-morrow's weakness, prone to fall;<br>Poor, blind, unprofitable servants all<br>Are we alway.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Yet who, thus looking backward o'er his years,<br>Feels not his eyelids wet with grateful tears,<br>If he hath been<br>Permitted, weak and sinful as he was,<br>To cheer and aid, in some ennobling cause,<br>His fellow-men?</div><div style="margin:10px 0">If he hath hidden the outcast, or let in<br>A ray of sunshine to the cell of sin;<br>If he hath lent<br>Strength to the weak, and, in an hour of need,<br>Over the suffering, mindless of his creed<br>Or home, hath bent;</div><div style="margin:10px 0">He has not lived in vain, and while he gives<br>The praise to Him, in whom he moves and lives,<br>With thankful heart;<br>He gazes backward, and with hope before,<br>Knowing that from his works he nevermore<br>Can henceforth part.</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=420784" data-title="The Reward de John Greenleaf Whittier" data-description="Who, looking backward from his manhood's prime,
Sees not the spectre of his misspent time?
And, through the shade
Of funeral cypress planted thick behind,
Hears no reproachful whisper on the wind
From his loved dead?

Who bears no trace of passion..."></div>
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