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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=472518" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Programme</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">READER--gentle--if so be<br>Such still live, and live for me,<br>Will it please you to be told<br>What my tenscore pages hold?</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Here are verses that in spite<br>Of myself I needs must write,<br>Like the wine that oozes first<br>When the unsqueezed grapes have burst.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Here are angry lines, 'too hard!'<br>Says the soldier, battle-scarred.<br>Could I smile his scars away<br>I would blot the bitter lay,</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Written with a knitted brow,<br>Read with placid wonder now.<br>Throbbed such passion in my heart?<br>Did his wounds once really smart?</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Here are varied strains that sing<br>All the changes life can bring,<br>Songs when joyous friends have met,<br>Songs the mourner's tears have wet.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">See the banquet's dead bouquet,<br>Fair and fragrant in its day;<br>Do they read the selfsame lines,--<br>He that fasts and he that dines?</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Year by year, like milestones placed,<br>Mark the record Friendship traced.<br>Prisoned in the walls of time<br>Life has notched itself in rhyme.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">As its seasons slid along,<br>Every year a notch of song,<br>From the June of long ago,<br>When the rose was full in blow,</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Till the scarlet sage has come<br>And the cold chrysanthemum.<br>Read, but not to praise or blame;<br>Are not all our hearts the same?</div><div style="margin:10px 0">For the rest, they take their chance,--<br>Some may pay a passing glance;<br>Others,-well, they served a turn,--<br>Wherefore written, would you learn?</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Not for glory, not for pelf,<br>Not, be sure, to please myself,<br>Not for any meaner ends,--<br>Always 'by request of friends.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Here's the cousin of a king,--<br>Would I do the civil thing?<br>Here 's the first-born of a queen;<br>Here 's a slant-eyed Mandarin.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Would I polish off Japan?<br>Would I greet this famous man,<br>Prince or Prelate, Sheik or Shah?--<br>Figaro gi and Figaro la!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Would I just this once comply?--<br>So they teased and teased till I<br>(Be the truth at once confessed)<br>Wavered--yielded--did my best.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Turn my pages,--never mind<br>If you like not all you find;<br>Think not all the grains are gold<br>Sacramento's sand-banks hold.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Every kernel has its shell,<br>Every chime its harshest bell,<br>Every face its weariest look,<br>Every shelf its emptiest book,</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Every field its leanest sheaf,<br>Every book its dullest leaf,<br>Every leaf its weakest line,--<br>Shall it not be so with mine?</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Best for worst shall make amends,<br>Find us, keep us, leave us friends<br>Till, perchance, we meet again.<br>Benedicite.--Amen!</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=472518" data-title="Programme de Oliver Wendell Holmes" data-description="READER--gentle--if so be
Such still live, and live for me,
Will it please you to be told
What my tenscore pages hold?

Here are verses that in spite
Of myself I needs must write,
Like the wine that oozes first
When the unsqueezed grapes have burst..."></div>
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