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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=538044" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Conjunction Of Jupiter And Venus</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">I would not always reason. The straight path<br>Wearies us with its never-varying lines,<br>And we grow melancholy. I would make<br>Reason my guide, but she should sometimes sit<br>Patiently by the way-side, while I traced<br>The mazes of the pleasant wilderness<br>Around me. She should be my counsellor,<br>But not my tyrant. For the spirit needs<br>Impulses from a deeper source than hers,<br>And there are motions, in the mind of man,<br>That she must look upon with awe. I bow<br>Reverently to her dictates, but not less<br>Hold to the fair illusions of old time--<br>Illusions that shed brightness over life,<br>And glory over nature. Look, even now,<br>Where two bright planets in the twilight meet,<br>Upon the saffron heaven,--the imperial star<br>Of Jove, and she that from her radiant urn<br>Pours forth the light of love. Let me believe,<br>Awhile, that they are met for ends of good,<br>Amid the evening glory, to confer<br>Of men and their affairs, and to shed down<br>Kind influence. Lo! they brighten as we gaze,<br>And shake out softer fires! The great earth feels<br>The gladness and the quiet of the time.<br>Meekly the mighty river, that infolds<br>This mighty city, smooths his front, and far<br>Glitters and burns even to the rocky base<br>Of the dark heights that bound him to the west;<br>And a deep murmur, from the many streets,<br>Rises like a thanksgiving. Put we hence<br>Dark and sad thoughts awhile--there's time for them<br>Hereafter--on the morrow we will meet,<br>With melancholy looks, to tell our griefs,<br>And make each other wretched; this calm hour,<br>This balmy, blessed evening, we will give<br>To cheerful hopes and dreams of happy days,<br>Born of the meeting of those glorious stars.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Enough of drought has parched the year, and scared<br>The land with dread of famine. Autumn, yet,<br>Shall make men glad with unexpected fruits.<br>The dog-star shall shine harmless: genial days<br>Shall softly glide away into the keen<br>And wholesome cold of winter; he that fears<br>The pestilence, shall gaze on those pure beams,<br>And breathe, with confidence, the quiet air.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Emblems of power and beauty! well may they<br>Shine brightest on our borders, and withdraw<br>Towards the great Pacific, marking out<br>The path of empire. Thus, in our own land,<br>Ere long, the better Genius of our race,<br>Having encompassed earth, and tamed its tribes,<br>Shall sit him down beneath the farthest west,<br>By the shore of that calm ocean, and look back<br>On realms made happy.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Light the nuptial torch,<br>And say the glad, yet solemn rite, that knits<br>The youth and maiden. Happy days to them<br>That wed this evening!--a long life of love,<br>And blooming sons and daughters! Happy they<br>Born at this hour,--for they shall see an age<br>Whiter and holier than the past, and go<br>Late to their graves. Men shall wear softer hearts,<br>And shudder at the butcheries of war,<br>As now at other murders.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Hapless Greece!<br>Enough of blood has wet thy rocks, and stained<br>Thy rivers; deep enough thy chains have worn<br>Their links into thy flesh; the sacrifice<br>Of thy pure maidens, and thy innocent babes,<br>And reverend priests, has expiated all<br>Thy crimes of old. In yonder mingling lights<br>There is an omen of good days for thee.<br>Thou shalt arise from midst the dust and sit<br>Again among the nations. Thine own arm<br>Shall yet redeem thee. Not in wars like thine<br>The world takes part. Be it a strife of kings,--<br>Despot with despot battling for a throne,--<br>And Europe shall be stirred throughout her realms,<br>Nations shall put on harness, and shall fall<br>Upon each other, and in all their bounds<br>The wailing of the childless shall not cease.<br>Thine is a war for liberty, and thou<br>Must fight it single-handed. The old world<br>Looks coldly on the murderers of thy race,<br>And leaves thee to the struggle; and the new,--<br>I fear me thou couldst tell a shameful tale<br>Of fraud and lust of gain;--thy treasury drained,<br>And Missolonghi fallen. Yet thy wrongs<br>Shall put new strength into thy heart and hand,<br>And God and thy good sword shall yet work out,<br>For thee, a terrible deliverance.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=William+Cullen+Bryant">William Cullen Bryant</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=538044" data-title="The Conjunction Of Jupiter And Venus de William Cullen Bryant" data-description="I would not always reason. The straight path
Wearies us with its never-varying lines,
And we grow melancholy. I would make
Reason my guide, but she should sometimes sit
Patiently by the way-side, while I traced
The mazes of the pleasant wilderness..."></div>
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