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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=507602" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Come, My Beloved, Hear From Me</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">COME, my beloved, hear from me<br>Tales of the woods or open sea.<br>Let our aspiring fancy rise<br>A wren's flight higher toward the skies;<br>Or far from cities, brown and bare,<br>Play at the least in open air.<br>In all the tales men hear us tell<br>Still let the unfathomed ocean swell,<br>Or shallower forest sound abroad<br>Below the lonely stars of God;<br>In all, let something still be done,<br>Still in a corner shine the sun,<br>Slim-ankled maids be fleet of foot,<br>Nor man disown the rural flute.<br>Still let the hero from the start<br>In honest sweat and beats of heart<br>Push on along the untrodden road<br>For some inviolate abode.<br>Still, O beloved, let me hear<br>The great bell beating far and near-<br>The odd, unknown, enchanted gong<br>That on the road hales men along,<br>That from the mountain calls afar,<br>That lures a vessel from a star,<br>And with a still, aerial sound<br>Makes all the earth enchanted ground.<br>Love, and the love of life and act<br>Dance, live and sing through all our furrowed tract;<br>Till the great God enamoured gives<br>To him who reads, to him who lives,<br>That rare and fair romantic strain<br>That whoso hears must hear again.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Robert+Louis+Stevenson">Robert Louis Stevenson</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=507602" data-title="Come, My Beloved, Hear From Me de Robert Louis Stevenson" data-description="COME, my beloved, hear from me
Tales of the woods or open sea.
Let our aspiring fancy rise
A wren's flight higher toward the skies;
Or far from cities, brown and bare,
Play at the least in open air.
In all the tales men hear us tell
Still let the ..."></div>
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