<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=529774" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>My Heart Is Sick With Longing</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">My heart is sick with longing, tho' I feed <br>On hope; Time goes with such a heavy pace <br>That neither brings nor takes from thy embrace, <br>As if he slept—forgetting his old speed: <br>For, as in sunshine only we can read <br>The march of minutes on the dial's face, <br>So in the shadows of this lonely place <br>There is no love, and Time is dead indeed. <br>But when, dear lady, I am near thy heart, <br>Thy smile is time, and then so swift it flies, <br>It seems we only meet to tear apart, <br>With aching hands and lingering of eyes. <br>Alas, alas! that we must learn hours' flight <br>By the same light of love that makes them bright!</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Thomas+Hood">Thomas Hood</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=529774" data-title="My Heart Is Sick With Longing de Thomas Hood" data-description="My heart is sick with longing, tho' I feed On hope; Time goes with such a heavy pace That neither brings nor takes from thy embrace, As if he slept—forgetting his old speed: For, as in sunshine only we can read The march of minutes on the d..."></div> </div> </div>

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