<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=454856" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>In A Monastery Garden</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">OVER the long salt ridges <br>And the gold sea-poppies between, <br>They builded them wild-briar hedges, <br>A church and a cloistered green. <br>And when they were done with their praises, <br>And the tides on the Fore beat slow, <br>Under the white cliff-daisies <br>They laid them down in a row.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Porphyry, Paul, and Peter, <br>Jasper, and Joachim,– <br>Was the psaltery music sweeter <br>Than the throat of the thrush to him ? <br>Tired of their drones and their dirges, <br>Where the young cliff-rabbits play, <br>Wet with the salt of the surges, <br>They laid them down for a day. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">One may not call to the other <br>There on the rim of the deep, <br>Only the youngest brother <br>Lies and smiles in his sleep. <br>When the wild swan's shadow passes, <br>When the ripe fruit falls to the sod, <br>When the faint moth flies in the grasses <br>He dreams in the hands of God. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Here for his hopes there follow <br>The violets one by one. <br>The dove is here and the swallow <br>And the young leaf seeking the sun. <br>And here when the last sail darkens <br>And the last lone path is trod, <br>Under the rose he harkens <br>And smiles in the eyes of God.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Marjorie+Lowry+Christie+Pickthall">Marjorie Lowry Christie Pickthall</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=454856" data-title="In A Monastery Garden de Marjorie Lowry Christie Pickthall" data-description="OVER the long salt ridges And the gold sea-poppies between, They builded them wild-briar hedges, A church and a cloistered green. And when they were done with their praises, And the tides on the Fore beat slow, Under the white cliff-daisies ..."></div> </div> </div>

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