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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=507841" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Philosopher's Oration: A Faun's Holiday</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Meanwhile, though nations in distress <br>Cower at a comet's loveliness <br>Shaken across the midnight sky; <br>Though the wind roars, and Victory, <br>A virgin fierce, on vans of gold <br>Stoops through the cloud's white smother rolled <br>Over the armies' shock and flow <br>Across the broad green hills below, <br>Yet hovers and will not circle down <br>To cast t'ward one the leafy crown; <br>Though men drive galleys' golden beaks <br>To isles beyond the sunset peaks, <br>And cities on the sea behold <br>Whose walls are glass, whose gates are gold, <br>Whose turrets, risen in an hour, <br>Dazzle between the sun and shower, <br>Whose sole inhabitants are kings <br>Six cubits high with gryphon's wings <br>And beard and mien more glorious <br>Than Midas or Assaracus; <br>Though priests in many a a hill-top fane <br>Lift anguished hands -- and lift in vain -- <br>Toward the sun's shaft dancing through <br>The bright roof's square of wind-swept blue; <br>Though 'cross the stars nightly arise <br>The silver fumes of sacrifice; <br>Though a new Helen bring new scars <br>Pyres piled upon wrecked golden cars, <br>Stacked spears, rolled smoke, and spirits sped <br>Like a streaked flame toward the dead: <br>Though all these be, yet grows not old <br>Delight of sunned and windy wold, <br>Of soaking downs aglare, asteam, <br>Of still tarns where the yellow gleam <br>Of a far sunrise slowly breaks, <br>Or sunset strews with golden flakes <br>The deeps which soon the stars will throng. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">For earth yet keeps her undersong <br>Of comfort and of ultimate peace, <br>That whoso seeks shall never cease <br>To hear at dawn or noon or night. <br>Joys hath she, too, joys thin and bright, <br>Too thin, too bright, for those to hear <br>Who listen with an eager ear, <br>Or course about and seek to spy, <br>Within an hour, eternity. <br>First must the spirit cast aside <br>This world's and next his own poor pride <br>And learn the universe to scan <br>More as a flower, less as a man. <br>Then shall he hear the lonely dead <br>Sing and the stars sing overhead, <br>And every spray upon the heath, <br>And larks above and ants beneath; <br>The stream shall take him in her arms; <br>Blue skies shall rest him in their calms; <br>The wind shall be a lovely friend, <br>And every leaf and bough shall bend <br>Over him with a lover's grace. <br>The hills shall bare a perfect face <br>Full of a high solemnity; <br>The heavenly clouds shall weep, and be <br>Content as overhead they swim <br>To be high brothers unto him. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">No more shall he feel pitched and hurled <br>Uncomprehended into this world; <br>For every place shall be his place, <br>And he shall recognize its face. <br>At dawn he shall upon his path; <br>No sword shall touch him, nor the wrath <br>Of the ranked crowd of clamorous men. <br>At even he shall home again, <br>And lay him down to sleep at ease, <br>One with the Night and the Night's peace. <br>Ev'n Sorrow, to be escaped of none, <br>But a more deep communion <br>Shall be to him, and Death at last <br>No more dreaded than the Past, <br>Whose shadow in the brain of earth <br>Informs him now and gave him birth.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Robert+Nichols">Robert Nichols</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=507841" data-title="The Philosopher's Oration: A Faun's Holiday de Robert Nichols" data-description="Meanwhile, though nations in distress Cower at a comet's loveliness Shaken across the midnight sky; Though the wind roars, and Victory, A virgin fierce, on vans of gold Stoops through the cloud's white smother rolled Over the armies' shock a..."></div> </div> </div>
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