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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=421147" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Ash Wednesday</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">&quot;Yes--deep within and deeper yet<br> The rankling shaft of conscience hide,<br>Quick let the swelling eye forget<br> The tears that in the heart abide.<br>Calm be the voice, the aspect bold,<br> No shuddering pass o'er lip or brow,<br>For why should Innocence be told<br> The pangs that guilty spirits bow?</div><div style="margin:10px 0">&quot;The loving eye that watches thine<br> Close as the air that wraps thee round -<br>Why in thy sorrow should it pine,<br> Since never of thy sin it found?<br>And wherefore should the heathen see<br> What chains of darkness thee enslave,<br>And mocking say, 'Lo, this is he<br> Who owned a God that could not save'?&quot;</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Thus oft the mourner's wayward heart<br> Tempts him to hide his grief and die,<br>Too feeble for Confession's smart,<br> Too proud to bear a pitying eye;<br>How sweet, in that dark hour, to fall<br> On bosoms waiting to receive<br>Our sighs, and gently whisper all!<br> They love us--will not God forgive?</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Else let us keep our fast within,<br> Till Heaven and we are quite alone,<br>Then let the grief, the shame, the sin,<br> Before the mercy-seat be thrown.<br>Between the porch and altar weep,<br> Unworthy of the holiest place,<br>Yet hoping near the shrine to keep<br> One lowly cell in sight of grace.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Nor fear lest sympathy should fail -<br> Hast thou not seen, in night hours drear,<br>When racking thoughts the heart assail,<br> The glimmering stars by turns appear,<br>And from the eternal house above<br> With silent news of mercy steal?<br>So Angels pause on tasks of love,<br> To look where sorrowing sinners kneel.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Or if no Angel pass that way,<br> He who in secret sees, perchance<br>May bid His own heart-warming ray<br> Toward thee stream with kindlier glance,<br>As when upon His drooping head<br> His Father's light was poured from Heaven,<br>What time, unsheltered and unfed,<br> Far in the wild His steps were driven.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">High thoughts were with Him in that hour,<br> Untold, unspeakable on earth -<br>And who can stay the soaring power<br> Of spirits weaned from worldly mirth,<br>While far beyond the sound of praise<br> With upward eye they float serene,<br>And learn to bear their Saviour's blaze<br> When Judgment shall undraw the screen?</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=John+Keble">John Keble</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=421147" data-title="Ash Wednesday de John Keble" data-description="&quot;Yes--deep within and deeper yet
 The rankling shaft of conscience hide,
Quick let the swelling eye forget
 The tears that in the heart abide.
Calm be the voice, the aspect bold,
 No shuddering pass o'er lip or brow,
For why should Innocence ..."></div>
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