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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=507605" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>De Hortis Julii Martialis</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">MY Martial owns a garden, famed to please,<br>Beyond the glades of the Hesperides;<br>Along Janiculum lies the chosen block<br>Where the cool grottos trench the hanging rock.<br>The moderate summit, something plain and bare,<br>Tastes overhead of a serener air;<br>And while the clouds besiege the vales below,<br>Keeps the clear heaven and doth with sunshine glow.<br>To the June stars that circle in the skies<br>The dainty roofs of that tall villa rise.<br>Hence do the seven imperial hills appear;<br>And you may view the whole of Rome from here;<br>Beyond, the Alban and the Tuscan hills;<br>And the cool groves and the cool falling rills,<br>Rubre Fidenae, and with virgin blood<br>Anointed once Perenna's orchard wood.<br>Thence the Flaminian, the Salarian way,<br>Stretch far broad below the dome of day;<br>And lo! the traveller toiling towards his home;<br>And all unheard, the chariot speeds to Rome!<br>For here no whisper of the wheels; and tho'<br>The Mulvian Bridge, above the Tiber's flow,<br>Hangs all in sight, and down the sacred stream<br>The sliding barges vanish like a dream,<br>The seaman's shrilling pipe not enters here,<br>Nor the rude cries of porters on the pier.<br>And if so rare the house, how rarer far<br>The welcome and the weal that therein are!<br>So free the access, the doors so widely thrown,<br>You half imagine all to be your own.</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=507605" data-title="De Hortis Julii Martialis de Robert Louis Stevenson" data-description="MY Martial owns a garden, famed to please,
Beyond the glades of the Hesperides;
Along Janiculum lies the chosen block
Where the cool grottos trench the hanging rock.
The moderate summit, something plain and bare,
Tastes overhead of a serener air;
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