<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=507137" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Retrospect: The Jests Of The Clock</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">He had met hours of the clock he never guessed before-<br>Dumb, dragging, mirthless hours confused with dreams and fear,<br>Bone-chilling, hungry hours when the Gods sleep and snore,<br>Bequeathing earth and heaven to ghosts, and will not hear,<br>And will not hear man groan chained to the sodden ground,<br>Rotting alive; in feather beds they slumbered sound.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">When noisome smells of day were sicklied by cold night,<br>When sentries froze and muttered; when beyond the wire<br>Blank shadows crawled and tumbled, shaking, tricking the sight,<br>When impotent hatred of Life stifled desire,<br>Then soared the sudden rocket, broke in blanching showers,<br>O lagging watch! O dawn! O hope-forsaken hours!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">How often with numbed heart, stale lips, venting his rage<br>We swore he'd be a dolt, a traitor, a damned fool,<br>If, when the guns stopped, ever again from youth to age<br>He broke the early rising, early sleeping rule.<br>No, though more bestial enemies roused a fouler war<br>Never again would he hear this, no never more!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Rise with the cheerful sun, go to bed with the same,<br>Work in your field or kailyard all the shining day,<br>But,' he said, 'never more in quest of wealth, honour, fame,<br>Search the small hours of night before the East goes grey.<br>A healthy mind, an honest heart, a wise man leaves<br>Those ugly impious times to ghosts, devils, soldiers, thieves.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Poor fool, knowing too well deep in his heart<br>That he'll be ready again: if urgent orders come,<br>To quit his rye and cabbages, kiss his wife and part<br>At the first sullen rapping of the awakened drum,<br>Ready once more to sweat with fear and brace for the shock,<br>To greet beneath a falling flare the jests of the clock.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Robert+Graves">Robert Graves</a><div class=q> <img src="https://www.citatepedia.ro/g/32share.png" style="float:left" alt="Share"> <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=507137" data-title="Retrospect: The Jests Of The Clock de Robert Graves" data-description="He had met hours of the clock he never guessed before- Dumb, dragging, mirthless hours confused with dreams and fear, Bone-chilling, hungry hours when the Gods sleep and snore, Bequeathing earth and heaven to ghosts, and will not hear, And will no..."></div> </div> </div>

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