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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=456059" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Mirror Of Diana</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Popular Name for Lake Nemi.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>SHE floats into the quiet skies, <br>Where, in the circle of hills, <br>Her immemorial mirror fills <br>With light, as of a Virgin's eyes <br>When, love a-tremble in their blue, <br>They glow twin violets dipped in dew. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Mild as a metaphor of Sleep, <br>Immaculately maiden-white, <br>The Queen Moon of ancestral night <br>Beholds her image in the deep: <br>As if a-gaze she beams above <br>Lake Nemi's magic glass of love. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">White rose, white lily of the vale, <br>Perfume the even breath of night; <br>In many a burst of sweet delight <br>The love throb of the nightingale <br>Swells through lush flowering woods and fills <br>The circle of the listening hills. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">White rose, white lily of the skies, <br>The Moon-flower blossoms in the lake; <br>The nightingale for her fair sake <br>With hopeless love's impassioned cries <br>Seems fain to sing till song must kill <br>Himself with one tumultuous trill. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">And all the songs and all the scents, <br>The light of glowworms and the fires <br>Of fire-flies in the cypress spires; <br>And all the wild wind instruments <br>Of pine and ilex as the breeze <br>Sweeps out their mystic harmonies;-- </div><div style="margin:10px 0">All are but Messengers of May <br>To that white orb of maiden fire <br>Who fills the moth with mad desire <br>To die enamoured in her ray, <br>And turns each dewdrop in the grass <br>Into a fairy looking-glass. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">O Beauty, far and far above <br>The night moth and the nightingale! <br>Far, far above life's narrow pale, <br>O Unattainable! O Love! <br>Even as the nightingale we cry <br>For some Ideal set on high. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Haunting the deep reflective mind, <br>You may surprise its perfect Sphere <br>Glassed like the Moon within her mere, <br>Who at a puff of alien wind <br>Melts in innumerable rings, <br>Elusive in the flux of things.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Mathilde+Blind">Mathilde Blind</a><div class=q>
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SHE floats into the quiet skies, 
Where, in the circle of hills, 
Her immemorial mirror fills 
With light, as of a Virgin's eyes 
When, love a-tremble in their blue, 
They glow twin violets dipped in dew. 

Mild as a ..."></div>
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