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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=529497" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Heiress And Architect</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">For A. W. B.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> SHE sought the Studios, beckoning to her side<br> An arch-designer, for she planned to build.<br> He was of wise contrivance, deeply skilled<br> In every intervolve of high and wide--<br> Well fit to be her guide.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> "Whatever it be,"<br> Responded he,<br> With cold, clear voice, and cold, clear view,<br> "In true accord with prudent fashionings<br> For such vicissitudes as living brings,<br> And thwarting not the law of stable things,<br> That will I do."</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> "Shape me," she said, "high walls with tracery<br> And open ogive-work, that scent and hue<br> Of buds, and travelling bees, may come in through,<br> The note of birds, and singings of the sea,<br> For these are much to me."</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> "An idle whim!"<br> Broke forth from him<br> Whom nought could warm to gallantries:<br> "Cede all these buds and birds, the zephyr's call,<br> And scents, and hues, and things that falter all,<br> And choose as best the close and surly wall,<br> For winter's freeze."</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> "Then frame," she cried, "wide fronts of crystal glass,<br> That I may show my laughter and my light--<br> Light like the sun's by day, the stars' by night--<br> Till rival heart-queens, envying, wail, 'Alas,<br> Her glory!' as they pass."</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> "O maid misled!"<br> He sternly said,<br> Whose facile foresight pierced her dire;<br> "Where shall abide the soul when, sick of glee,<br> It shrinks, and hides, and prays no eye may see?<br> Those house them best who house for secrecy,<br> For you will tire."</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> "A little chamber, then, with swan and dove<br> Ranged thickly, and engrailed with rare device<br> Of reds and purples, for a Paradise<br> Wherein my Love may greet me, I my Love,<br> When he shall know thereof?"</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> "This, too, is ill,"<br> He answered still,<br> The man who swayed her like a shade.<br> "An hour will come when sight of such sweet nook<br> Would bring a bitterness too sharp to brook,<br> When brighter eyes have won away his look;<br> For you will fade."</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> Then said she faintly: "O, contrive some way--<br> Some narrow winding turret, quite mine own,<br> To reach a loft where I may grieve alone!<br> It is a slight thing; hence do not, I pray,<br> This last dear fancy slay!"</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> "Such winding ways<br> Fit not your days,"<br> Said he, the man of measuring eye;<br> "I must even fashion as my rule declares,<br> To wit: Give space (since life ends unawares)<br> To hale a coffined corpse adown the stairs;<br> For you will die."</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Thomas+Hardy">Thomas Hardy</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=529497" data-title="Heiress And Architect de Thomas Hardy" data-description="For A. W. B. SHE sought the Studios, beckoning to her side An arch-designer, for she planned to build. He was of wise contrivance, deeply skilled In every intervolve of high and wide-- Well fit to be her guide. "Whatever it be," ..."></div> </div> </div>
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