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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=536573" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Love Sonnets Of Proteus. Part I: To Manon: XIII</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">HE DARES NOT DIE<br>Four hours by the clock! How strange it is! Four hours<br>Since love and life, the future and the past,<br>Died with the shutting of these silent doors,<br>And thought became to me one purpose vast.<br>I have not moved from where she sat. The cast<br>Of her fingers on this cushion lightly scores<br>Its surface still; and still I hear the last<br>Tones of her laughter, and here lie her flowers.<br>Poor flowers! The ugliness of grief has wrought<br>Your change already. No besotted bloom<br>Of a false dawn has lured you to base life.<br>You at the pinch were brave and trifled not,<br>Going ungrudging to our common doom.<br>And I? Ah God! I have not faced the knife!</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>
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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=536573" data-title="The Love Sonnets Of Proteus. Part I: To Manon: XIII de Wilfrid Scawen Blunt" data-description="HE DARES NOT DIE
Four hours by the clock! How strange it is! Four hours
Since love and life, the future and the past,
Died with the shutting of these silent doors,
And thought became to me one purpose vast.
I have not moved from where she sat. The..."></div>
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