<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=507773" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>To Mrs. Macmarland</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">IN Schnee der Alpen - so it runs<br>To those divine accords - and here<br>We dwell in Alpine snows and suns,<br>A motley crew, for half the year:<br>A motley crew, we dwell to taste -<br>A shivering band in hope and fear -<br>That sun upon the snowy waste,<br>That Alpine ether cold and clear.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Up from the laboured plains, and up<br>From low sea-levels, we arise<br>To drink of that diviner cup<br>The rarer air, the clearer skies;<br>For, as the great, old, godly King<br>From mankind's turbid valley cries,<br>So all we mountain-lovers sing:<br>I to the hills will lift mine eyes.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The bells that ring, the peaks that climb,<br>The frozen snow's unbroken curd<br>Might yet revindicate in rhyme<br>The pauseless stream, the absent bird.<br>In vain - for to the deeps of life<br>You, lady, you my heart have stirred;<br>And since you say you love my life,<br>Be sure I love you for the word.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Of kindness, here I nothing say -<br>Such loveless kindnesses there are<br>In that grimacing, common way,<br>That old, unhonoured social war.<br>Love but my dog and love my love,<br>Adore with me a common star -<br>I value not the rest above<br>The ashes of a bad cigar.</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> <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=507773" data-title="To Mrs. Macmarland de Robert Louis Stevenson" data-description="IN Schnee der Alpen - so it runs To those divine accords - and here We dwell in Alpine snows and suns, A motley crew, for half the year: A motley crew, we dwell to taste - A shivering band in hope and fear - That sun upon the snowy waste, That Alp..."></div> </div> </div>

solid border dashed border dotted border double border groove border ridge border inset border outset border no border blue green red purple cyan gold silver black