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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=536686" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>To Nimue</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">I had clean forgotten all, her face who had caused my trouble.<br>Gone was she as a cloud, as a bird which passed in the wind, as a glittering stream--borne bubble,<br>As a shadow set by a ship on the sea, where the sail looks down on its double.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I had laid her face to the wall, on the shelf where my fancies sleep.<br>I had laid my pain in its grave, in its rose--leaf passionless grave, with the things I had dared not keep.<br>I had left it there. I had dried my tears. I had said, ``Ah, why should I weep?''</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I will not be fooled by her, by the spell of her fair child's face.<br>What is its meaning to me, who have seen, who have known, who have loved what miracle forms of grace?<br>What are its innocent wiles, its smiles, its idle sweet girlishness?</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I will not love without love. I despise the ways of a fool.<br>Let me prevail as of old, as lover, as lord, as king, or have done with Love's tyrant rule.<br>I was born to command, not serve, not obey. No boy am I in Love's school.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I have fled to the fields, the plains, the desert places of rest,<br>To the forest's infinite smile, where the cushat calls from the trees and the yaffle has lined her nest,<br>To the purple hills with the spray of the sea, when the wind blows loud from the west.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I have done with her love and her, the wine--draughts of human pleasure.<br>The voice of nature is best, the cradle song of the trees which is hymned to Time's stateliest measure,<br>As once a boy in the woods I heard it and held it an exquisite treasure.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I had clean forgotten all. I had sung to the indolent hills<br>Songs of joy without grief, since grief is of human things the shadow of human ills.<br>I sang aloud in my pride of song to the chime of the answering rills.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And, behold, the whole world heard, the dull mad manridden Earth.<br>And they cried, ``A prophet hath risen, a sage with the heart of a child, a bard of no human birth,<br>A soul that hath known nor pain, nor sin, a singer of infinite mirth.''</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And she too heard it and came. And she knew it was I grown wise.<br>And she stood from the rest apart, and I watched her with pitying scorn, and then with a sad surprise,<br>And last with a new sweet passionate joy, for I saw there were tears in her eyes.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And she came and sat at my feet, as in days ere our grief began.<br>And I saw her a woman grown. And I was a prophet no more, but a desolate voiceless man.<br>And I clasped her fast in my arms in joy and kissed her tears as they ran.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And I shall not be fooled by her, though her face is fair as a rose.<br>And I shall not live without love, though the world should forget my songs and I should forget its woes,<br>And the purple hills should forget the sea and the spray when the west wind blows.</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=536686" data-title="To Nimue de Wilfrid Scawen Blunt" data-description="I had clean forgotten all, her face who had caused my trouble.
Gone was she as a cloud, as a bird which passed in the wind, as a glittering stream--borne bubble,
As a shadow set by a ship on the sea, where the sail looks down on its double.

I had..."></div>
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