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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=521209" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The City Revisited</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">The grey gulls drift across the bay <br>Softly and still as flakes of snow <br>Against the thinning fog. All day <br>I sat and watched them come and go; <br>And now at last the sun was set, <br>Filling the waves with colored fire <br>Till each seemed like a jewelled spire <br>Thrust up from some drowned city. Soon <br>From peak and cliff and minaret <br>The city's lights began to wink, <br>Each like a friendly word. The moon <br>Began to broaden out her shield, <br>Spurting with silver. Straight before <br>The brown hills lay like quiet beasts <br>Stretched out beside a well-loved door, <br>And filling earth and sky and field <br>With the calm heaving of their breasts. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Nothing was gone, nothing was changed, <br>The smallest wave was unestranged <br>By all the long ache of the years <br>Since last I saw them, blind with tears. <br>Their welcome like the hills stood fast: <br>And I, I had come home at last. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">So I laughed out with them aloud <br>To think that now the sun was broad, <br>And climbing up the iron sky, <br>Where the raw streets stretched sullenly <br>About another room I knew, <br>In a mean house -- and soon there, too, <br>The smith would burst the flimsy door <br>And find me lying on the floor. <br>Just where I fell the other night, <br>After that breaking wave of pain. -- <br>How they will storm and rage and fight, <br>Servants and mistress, one and all, <br>&quot;No money for the funeral!&quot; </div><div style="margin:10px 0">I broke my life there. Let it stand <br>At that. <br>The waters are a plain, <br>Heaving and bright on either hand, <br>A tremulous and lustral peace <br>Which shall endure though all things cease, <br>Filling my heart as water fills <br>A cup. There stand the quiet hills. <br>So, waiting for my wings to grow, <br>I watch the gulls sail to and fro, <br>Rising and falling, soft and swift, <br>Drifting along as bubbles drift. <br>And, though I see the face of God <br>Hereafter -- this day have I trod <br>Nearer to Him than I shall tread <br>Ever again. The night is dead. <br>And there's the dawn, poured out like wine <br>Along the dim horizon-line. <br>And from the city comes the chimes -- </div><div style="margin:10px 0">We have our heaven on earth -- sometimes!</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Stephen+Vincent+Benet">Stephen Vincent Benet</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=521209" data-title="The City Revisited de Stephen Vincent Benet" data-description="The grey gulls drift across the bay 
Softly and still as flakes of snow 
Against the thinning fog. All day 
I sat and watched them come and go; 
And now at last the sun was set, 
Filling the waves with colored fire 
Till each seemed like a jewelle..."></div>
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