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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=529608" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Colonel's Solilquy.</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">&quot;The quay recedes. Hurrah! Ahead we go! . . .<br>It's true I've been accustomed now to home,<br>And joints get rusty, and one's limbs may grow<br> More fit to rest than roam.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">&quot;But I can stand as yet fair stress and strain;<br>There's not a little steel beneath the rust;<br>My years mount somewhat, but here's to't again!<br> And if I fall, I must.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">&quot;God knows that for myself I've scanty care;<br>Past scrimmages have proved as much to all;<br>In Eastern lands and South I've had my share<br> Both of the blade and ball.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">&quot;And where those villains ripped me in the flitch<br>With their old iron in my early time,<br>I'm apt at change of wind to feel a twitch,<br> Or at a change of clime.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">&quot;And what my mirror shows me in the morning<br>Has more of blotch and wrinkle than of bloom;<br>My eyes, too, heretofore all glasses scorning,<br> Have just a touch of rheum . . .</div><div style="margin:10px 0">&quot;Now sounds 'The Girl I've left behind me,'--Ah,<br>The years, the ardours, wakened by that tune!<br>Time was when, with the crowd's farewell 'Hurrah!'<br> 'Twould lift me to the moon.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">&quot;But now it's late to leave behind me one<br>Who if, poor soul, her man goes underground,<br>Will not recover as she might have done<br> In days when hopes abound.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">&quot;She's waving from the wharfside, palely grieving,<br>As down we draw . . . Her tears make little show,<br>Yet now she suffers more than at my leaving<br> Some twenty years ago.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">&quot;I pray those left at home will care for her!<br>I shall come back; I have before; though when<br>The Girl you leave behind you is a grandmother,<br> Things may not be as then.&quot;</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>
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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=529608" data-title="The Colonel's Solilquy. de Thomas Hardy" data-description="&quot;The quay recedes. Hurrah! Ahead we go! . . .
It's true I've been accustomed now to home,
And joints get rusty, and one's limbs may grow
 More fit to rest than roam.

&quot;But I can stand as yet fair stress and strain;
There's not a little s..."></div>
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