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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=523241" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>White Paper</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">SNOWY-SMOOTH beneath the pen— <br> Richest field that iron ploughs, <br>Germinating thoughts of men, <br> Tho’ no heaven its rain allows. <br> <br>There they ripen, thousand-fold; <br> And our spirits reap the corn, <br>In a day-long dream of gold— <br> Food for all the souls unborn. <br> <br>Like the murmur of the earth, <br> When we listen stooping low, <br>Like sap singing nature’s mirth <br> Foaming up the trees that grow. <br> <br>Evermore a subtle song <br> Sings the pen unto it, while <br>Fluid idea flows along, <br> Each new Era’s mother-Nile. <br> <br>Greater than ensphering Sea, <br> For it holds the sea and land; <br>Seed of every deed to be <br> Down its current borne like sand. <br> <br>I caress thy surface sheer, <br> Holding thee the Absolute; <br>Where the things to be inhere, <br> Waiting their material bruit. <br> <br>How I love thee! my heart’s blood <br> Were too dull to smutch thy white! <br>I’ll aver: no lily’s bud <br> Lays such unction on my sight. <br> <br>Suave of maiden’s throat or arm, <br> Bliss embodied to the touch, <br>Has not such ambrosial charm— <br> Not a marble Goddess such! <br> <br>Dear White Paper! All To-day <br> Palpitates with spirit-heat— <br>Only on thy whiteness may <br> Seers translate its rhythms sweet! <br> <br>Holy Paper! all the Past <br> Were a rack of ruined cloud <br>Stripping from our orbit vast, <br> But thou Eternity endowed <br> <br>With an actual soul of speech— <br> Life of life by death distilled— <br>That all dateless days shall reach, <br> As life’s vine of veins is filled. <br> <br>O, the glorious Heavens wrought <br> By Cadmean souls of yore <br>From pure element of Thought! <br> And thy leaves their silvern door! <br> <br>Light they open, and we stand <br> Past the sovereignty of Fate; <br>Glad among Them, still and grand, <br> The Creators and Create</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Sydney+Wheeler+Jephcott">Sydney Wheeler Jephcott</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=523241" data-title="White Paper de Sydney Wheeler Jephcott" data-description="SNOWY-SMOOTH beneath the pen— 
 Richest field that iron ploughs, 
Germinating thoughts of men, 
 Tho’ no heaven its rain allows. 
 
There they ripen, thousand-fold; 
 And our spirits reap the corn, 
In a day-long dream of gold— 
 Food for al..."></div>
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