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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=508534" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>No More Music</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">The Porch was blazoned with geranium bloom;<br>Myrtle and jasmine meadows lit the lea;<br>With rose and violet the vale's perfume<br>Languished to where the hyacinthine sea<br>Dreamed tenderly . . . "And I must go," said he.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">He spoke in that dim, ghostly voice of his:<br>"I was a singer; then the Was . . . and GAS."<br>(I had to lean to him, no word to miss.)<br>"We bought this little café nigh to Grasse;<br>With sun and flowers my last few days will pass.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">"And music too. I have my mandolin:<br>Say! Maybe you can strum on your guitar . . .<br>Come on - we two will make melodious din,<br>While Madame sings to us behind the bar:<br>You'll see how sweet Italian folk-songs are."</div><div style="margin:10px 0">So he would play and I would thrum the while;<br>I used to there every lovely day;<br>His wife would listen with a sunny smile,<br>And when I left: "Please come again," she'd say.<br>"He seems quite sad when you have one away."</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Alas! I had to leave without good-bye,<br>And lived in sooty cities for ayear.<br>Oh, how my heart ached for that happy sky!<br>Then, then one day my café I drew near -<br>God! it was strange how I was gripped with fear.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">So still it was; I saw no mandolin,<br>No gay guitar with ribbons blue and red;<br>Then all in black, stone-faced the wife came in . . .<br>I did not ask; I looked, she shook her head:<br>"La musique est fini," was all she said.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Robert+William+Service">Robert William Service</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=508534" data-title="No More Music de Robert William Service" data-description="The Porch was blazoned with geranium bloom; Myrtle and jasmine meadows lit the lea; With rose and violet the vale's perfume Languished to where the hyacinthine sea Dreamed tenderly . . . "And I must go," said he. He spoke in that dim, g..."></div> </div> </div>
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