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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=508802" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Mole</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Said he: &quot;I'll dive deep in the Past,<br>And write a book of direful days<br>When summer skies were overcast<br>With smoke of humble hearths ablaze;<br>When War was rampant in the land,<br>And poor folk cowered in the night,<br>While ruin gaped on every hand -<br>of ravishing and wrath I'll write.&quot;</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Ten years he toiled to write his book,<br>Yet he was happy all the while;<br>The world he willingly forsook<br>T live alone in hermit style.<br>In garden sanctuaried sweet,<br>Full favoured by the steadfast sun,<br>plunged in the Past, a life complete<br>He lived. . . . At last his work was done.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">A worthy book that few would read<br>Yet all would praise - each precious page<br>Starred with some truth the rare would heed,<br>The vivid images of an age,<br>Then blinking, to the world again<br>He came a sage, remote, austere . . .<br>When lo! his eyes were smote with flame,<br>The wail of war was in his ear.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">He shrank and sighed: &quot;Oh can it be<br>These old iniquities prevail!<br>That sons of men are still unfree<br>And time repeats her sorry tale!&quot;<br>So with a long sad gaze and last,<br>Seeking his secret garden nook,<br>He slipped again into the Past<br>To live - and write another book.</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>
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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=508802" data-title="The Mole de Robert William Service" data-description="Said he: &quot;I'll dive deep in the Past,
And write a book of direful days
When summer skies were overcast
With smoke of humble hearths ablaze;
When War was rampant in the land,
And poor folk cowered in the night,
While ruin gaped on every hand -..."></div>
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