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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=506370" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>From 'Pauline</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">O God, where does this tend—these struggling aims? <br>What would I have? What is this ‘sleep’, which seems <br>To bound all? can there be a ‘waking’ point <br>Of crowning life? The soul would never rule— <br>It would be first in all things—it would have <br>Its utmost pleasure filled,—but that complete <br>Commanding for commanding sickens it. <br>The last point I can trace is, rest beneath <br>Some better essence than itself—in weakness; <br>This is ‘myself’—not what I think should be <br>And what is that I hunger for but God? <br>My God, my God! let me for once look on thee <br>As tho’ nought else existed: we alone. <br>And as creation crumbles, my soul’s spark <br>Expands till I can say, ‘Even from myself <br>I need thee, and I feel thee, and I love thee; <br>I do not plead my rapture in thy works <br>For love of thee—or that I feel as one <br>Who cannot die—but there is that in me <br>Which turns to thee, which loves, or which should love.’ <br> <br>Why have I girt myself with this hell-dress? <br>Why have I laboured to put out my life? <br>Is it not in my nature to adore, <br>And e’en for all my reason do I not <br>Feel him, and thank him, and pray to him—now? <br>Can I forgo the trust that he loves me? <br>Do I not feel a love which only ONE… <br>O thou pale form, so dimly seen, deep-eyed, <br>I have denied thee calmly—do I not <br>Pant when I read of thy consummate deeds, <br>And burn to see thy calm pure truths out-flash <br>The brightest gleams of earth’s philosophy? <br>Do I not shake to hear aught question thee? <br>If I am erring save me, madden me, <br>Take from me powers and pleasures—let me die. <br>Ages, so I see thee: I am knit round <br>As with a charm, by sin and lust and pride, <br>Yet tho’ my wandering dreams have seen all shapes <br>Of strange delight, oft have I stood by thee— <br>Have I been keeping lonely watch with thee <br>In the damp night by weeping Olivet, <br>Or leaning on thy bosom, proudly less— <br>Or dying with thee on the lonely cross— <br>Or witnessing thy bursting from the tomb!</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Robert+Browning">Robert Browning</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=506370" data-title="From 'Pauline de Robert Browning" data-description="O God, where does this tend—these struggling aims? 
What would I have? What is this ‘sleep’, which seems 
To bound all? can there be a ‘waking’ point 
Of crowning life? The soul would never rule— 
It would be first in all things—it w..."></div>
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