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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=472347" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>A Souvenir</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">YES, lady! I can ne'er forget,<br>That once in other years we met;<br>Thy memory may perchance recall <br>A festal eve, a rose-wreathed hall,<br>Its tapers' blaze, its mirrors' glance,<br>Its melting song, its ringing glance;<br>Why, in thy dream of virgin joy,<br>Shouldst thou recall a pallid boy?</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Thine eye had other forms to seek,<br>Why rest upon his bashful cheek?<br>With other tones thy heart was stirred,<br>Why waste on him a gentle word?<br>We parted, lady, all night long<br>Thine ear to thrill with dance and song,<br>And I to weep that I was born<br>A thing thou scarce wouldst deign to scorn.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And, lady! now that years have past,<br>My bark has reached the shore at last; <br>The gales that filled her ocean wing,<br>Have chilled and shrunk thy hasty spring,<br>And eye to eye, and brow to brow,<br>I stand before thy presence now;<br>Thy lip is smoothed, thy voice is sweet,<br>Thy warm hand offered when we meet.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Nay, lady! 't is not now for me<br>To droop the lid or bend the knee.<br>I seek thee, oh thou dost not shun;<br>I speak, thou listenest like a nun;<br>I ask thy smile, thy lip uncurls,<br>Too liberal of its flashing pearls ;<br>Thy tears, thy lashes sing again,<br>My Hebe turns to Magdalen !</div><div style="margin:10px 0">O changing youth ! that evening hour<br>Looked down on ours, the bud the flower :<br>Thine faded in its virgin soil.<br>And mine was nursed in tears and toil;<br>Thy leaves were withering:, one by one,<br>While mine were opening to the sun.<br>Which now can meet the cold and storm,<br>With freshest leaf and hardiest form ?</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Ay, lady ! that once haughty glance<br>Still wanders through the glittering dance,<br>She asks in vain from others' pride,<br>The charity thine own denied ; <br>And as thy fickle lips could learn<br>To smile and praise, that used to spurn,<br>So the last offering on thy shrine<br>Shall be this flattering lay of mine!</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Oliver+Wendell+Holmes">Oliver Wendell Holmes</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=472347" data-title="A Souvenir de Oliver Wendell Holmes" data-description="YES, lady! I can ne'er forget,
That once in other years we met;
Thy memory may perchance recall 
A festal eve, a rose-wreathed hall,
Its tapers' blaze, its mirrors' glance,
Its melting song, its ringing glance;
Why, in thy dream of virgin joy,
Sho..."></div>
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