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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=472602" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Shadows</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">'How many have gone?' was the question of old<br>Ere Time our bright ring of its jewels bereft;<br>Alas! for too often the death-bell has tolled,<br>And the question we ask is, 'How many are left?'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Bright sparkled the wine; there were fifty that quaffed;<br>For a decade had slipped and had taken but three.<br>How they frolicked and sung, how they shouted and laughed,<br>Like a school full of boys from their benches set free!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">There were speeches and toasts, there were stories and rhymes,<br>The hall shook its sides with their merriment's noise;<br>As they talked and lived over the college-day times,--<br>No wonder they kept their old name of 'The Boys'!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The seasons moved on in their rhythmical flow<br>With mornings like maidens that pouted or smiled,<br>With the bud and the leaf and the fruit and the snow,<br>And the year-books of Time in his alcoves were piled.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">There were forty that gathered where fifty had met;<br>Some locks had got silvered, some lives had grown sere,<br>But the laugh of the laughers was lusty as yet,<br>And the song of the singers rose ringing and clear.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Still flitted the years; there were thirty that came;<br>'The Boys' they were still, and they answered their call;<br>There were foreheads of care, but the smiles were the same,<br>And the chorus rang loud through the garlanded hall.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The hour-hand moved on, and they gathered again;<br>There were twenty that joined in the hymn that was sung;<br>But ah! for our song-bird we listened in vain,--<br>The crystalline tones like a seraph's that rung!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">How narrow the circle that holds us to-night!<br>How many the loved ones that greet us no more,<br>As we meet like the stragglers that come from the fight,<br>Like the mariners flung from a wreck on the shore!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">We look through the twilight for those we have lost;<br>The stream rolls between us, and yet they seem near;<br>Already outnumbered by those who have crossed,<br>Our band is transplanted, its home is not here!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">They smile on us still--is it only a dream?--<br>While fondly or proudly their names we recall;<br>They beckon--they come--they are crossing the stream--<br>Lo! the Shadows! the Shadows! room--room for them all!</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=472602" data-title="The Shadows de Oliver Wendell Holmes" data-description="'How many have gone?' was the question of old
Ere Time our bright ring of its jewels bereft;
Alas! for too often the death-bell has tolled,
And the question we ask is, 'How many are left?'

Bright sparkled the wine; there were fifty that quaffed;
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