<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=536484" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Many Are Called</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Many are called, dear heart, to happiness,<br>But few are chosen, even for a wild short year.<br>Love calls us from our sleep, and we make stress<br>To rise and greet him in a world austere<br>With a sweet dawn, while blithe as chanticleer<br>He carols his brave message, and we loosen<br>The shutters of our grief to find him near.<br>Many are called by Love, but few are chosen.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Love's voice is truth. He speaks his messages<br>In tones we dare not doubt, and we give ear<br>As to a prophet of our wilderness,<br>The glorious lord of a new hemisphere.<br>And we run, we too, glorious, without fear,<br>Like children on bright ice too thinly frozen,<br>Gay to our doom. Ah me! The plunge was sheer.<br>Many are called by Love, but few are chosen.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Love chooses whom he will to ban or bless.<br>My fate was a wild shepherd's on the drear<br>Plains of wan hope, whose one--time shepherdess<br>Was lost even in the winning, and whose cheer<br>Has since been of the yellow leaf and sere,<br>(Scorned is the rose--tree Time finds no last rose on)<br>And silence claims him and the end is near.<br>Many are called by Love, but few are chosen.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Queen of my life! I do not love you less<br>Because you choose not me to cast your woes on.<br>It is enough for me you once said ``Yes.''<br>Many are called by Love, but few are chosen.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Wilfrid+Scawen+Blunt">Wilfrid Scawen Blunt</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=536484" data-title="Many Are Called de Wilfrid Scawen Blunt" data-description="Many are called, dear heart, to happiness, But few are chosen, even for a wild short year. Love calls us from our sleep, and we make stress To rise and greet him in a world austere With a sweet dawn, while blithe as chanticleer He carols his brave..."></div> </div> </div>

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