Click in the field, then press CTRL+C to copy the HTML code
<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=509941" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Alain’s Choice</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">By the side of a silvery streamlet,<br>That flowed through meadows green,<br>Lay a youth on the verge of manhood<br>And a boy of fair sixteen;<br>And the elder spake of the future,<br>That bright before them lay,<br>With its hopes full of golden promise<br>For some sure, distant day. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">And he vowed, as his dark eye kindled,<br>He would climb the heights of fame,<br>And conquer with mind or weapon<br>A proud, undying name.<br>On the darling theme long dwelling<br>Bright fabrics did he build,<br>Which the hope in his ardent bosom<br>With splendor helped to gild. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">At length he paused, then questioned:<br>“Brother, thou dost not speak;<br>In the vague bright page of the future<br>To read dost thou never seek?”<br>Then the other smiled and answered,<br>“Of that am I thinking now,<br>And the crown which I too am striving<br>To win my ambitious brow.” </div><div style="margin:10px 0">“What!—a crown? Thou hast spirit, brother;<br>Say, of laurels will it be?<br>Thy choice, the life of a soldier,<br>Undaunted—joyous—free.<br>Though by wind and sun undarkened<br>Is thy blooming, boyish face,<br>To thy choice thou’lt do all honor,<br>For ’tis worthy of thy race! </div><div style="margin:10px 0">“Am I wrong? Well, ’tis more likely,<br>With thy love of ancient lore,<br>Thou would’st choose the scholar’s garland,<br>Not laurels wet with gore;<br>I’ll not chide—’tis surely noble,<br>By mere simple might of pen,<br>To rule with master power<br>The minds of thy fellow-men.” </div><div style="margin:10px 0">But still shook his head the younger:<br>“What! unguessed thy secret yet?<br>Ha! I know now what thou seekest<br>To deck thy curls of jet:<br>Bright buds!” and he, laughing, scattered<br>Blossoms on brow and cheek,<br>“Pleasure’s wreath of smiting flowers<br>Is the crown that thou dost seek.” </div><div style="margin:10px 0">“Not so—of all, that were vainest!<br>’Tis a crown immortal—rare—<br>Here on earth I must strive to win it,<br>But, brother, I’ll wear it there!”<br>And he raised to the blue sky o’er him<br>Eyes filled with tender thought,—<br>Who shall doubt that to him was given<br>The glorious crown he sought?</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Rosanna+Eleanor+Leprohon">Rosanna Eleanor Leprohon</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=509941" data-title="Alain’s Choice de Rosanna Eleanor Leprohon" data-description="By the side of a silvery streamlet,
That flowed through meadows green,
Lay a youth on the verge of manhood
And a boy of fair sixteen;
And the elder spake of the future,
That bright before them lay,
With its hopes full of golden promise
For some su..."></div>
</div>
</div>