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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=535013" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Hours Continuing Long</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">HOURS continuing long, sore and heavy-hearted,<br> Hours of the dusk, when I withdraw to a lonesome and unfrequented<br> spot, seating myself, leaning my face in my hands;<br> Hours sleepless, deep in the night, when I go forth, speeding swiftly<br> the country roads, or through the city streets, or pacing miles<br> and miles, stifling plaintive cries;<br> Hours discouraged, distracted--for the one I cannot content myself<br> without, soon I saw him content himself without me;<br> Hours when I am forgotten, (O weeks and months are passing, but I<br> believe I am never to forget!)<br> Sullen and suffering hours! (I am ashamed--but it is useless--I am<br> what I am;)<br> Hours of my torment--I wonder if other men ever have the like, out of<br> the like feelings?<br> Is there even one other like me--distracted--his friend, his lover,<br> lost to him?<br> Is he too as I am now? Does he still rise in the morning, dejected,<br> thinking who is lost to him? and at night, awaking, think who<br> is lost?<br> Does he too harbor his friendship silent and endless? harbor his<br> anguish and passion?   10<br> Does some stray reminder, or the casual mention of a name, bring the<br> fit back upon him, taciturn and deprest?<br> Does he see himself reflected in me? In these hours, does he see the<br> face of his hours reflected?</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Walt+Whitman">Walt Whitman</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=535013" data-title="Hours Continuing Long de Walt Whitman" data-description="HOURS continuing long, sore and heavy-hearted,
 Hours of the dusk, when I withdraw to a lonesome and unfrequented
 spot, seating myself, leaning my face in my hands;
 Hours sleepless, deep in the night, when I go forth, speeding swiftly
 the count..."></div>
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