Click in the field, then press CTRL+C to copy the HTML code
<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=427714" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Easter Week</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">1 &quot;Romantic Ireland's dead and gone,<br>2 It's with O'Leary in the grave.&quot;<br>3 Then, Yeats, what gave that Easter dawn<br>4 A hue so radiantly brave?</div><div style="margin:10px 0">5 There was a rain of blood that day,<br>6 Red rain in gay blue April weather.<br>7 It blessed the earth till it gave birth<br>8 To valour thick as blooms of heather.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">9 Romantic Ireland never dies!<br>10 O'Leary lies in fertile ground,<br>11 And songs and spears throughout the years<br>12 Rise up where patriot graves are found.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">13 Immortal patriots newly dead<br>14 And ye that bled in bygone years,<br>15 What banners rise before your eyes?<br>16 What is the tune that greets your ears?</div><div style="margin:10px 0">17 The young Republic's banners smile<br>18 For many a mile where troops convene.<br>19 O'Connell street is loudly sweet <br>20 With strains of Wearing of the Green.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">21 The soil of Ireland throbs and glows<br>22 With life that knows the hour is here<br>23 To strike again like Irishmen<br>24 For that which Irishmen hold dear.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">25 Lord Edward leaves his resting place<br>26 And Sarsfield's face is glad and fierce.<br>27 See Emmet leap from troubled sleep<br>28 To grasp the hand of Padraic Pearse!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">29 There is no rope can strangle song<br>30 And not for long death takes his toll.<br>31 No prison bars can dim the stars<br>32 Nor quicklime eat the living soul.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">33 Romantic Ireland is not old.<br>34 For years untold her youth shall shine.<br>35 Her heart is fed on Heavenly bread,<br>36 The blood of martyrs is her wine.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Joyce+Kilmer">Joyce Kilmer</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=427714" data-title="Easter Week de Joyce Kilmer" data-description="1 &quot;Romantic Ireland's dead and gone,
2 It's with O'Leary in the grave.&quot;
3 Then, Yeats, what gave that Easter dawn
4 A hue so radiantly brave?

5 There was a rain of blood that day,
6 Red rain in gay blue April weather.
7 It blessed the e..."></div>
</div>
</div>