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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=538194" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Largo E Mesto</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Out of the poisonous East,<br>Over a continent of blight,<br>Like a maleficent Influence released<br>From the most squalid cellerage of hell,<br>The Wind-Fiend, the abominable-<br>The Hangman Wind that tortures temper and light-<br>Comes slouching, sullen and obscene,<br>Hard on the skirts of the embittered night;<br>And in a cloud unclean<br>Of excremental humours, roused to strife<br>By the operation of some ruinous change,<br>Wherever his evil mandate run and range,<br>Into a dire intensity of life,<br>A craftsman at his bench, he settles down<br>To the grim job of throttling London Town.<br>So, by a jealous lightlessness beset<br>That might have oppressed the dragons of old time<br>Crunching and groping in the abysmal slime,<br>A cave of cut-throat thoughts and villainous dreams,<br>Hag-rid and crying with cold and dirt and wet,<br>The afflicted City. prone from mark to mark<br>In shameful occultation, seems<br>A nightmare labryrinthine, dim and drifting,<br>With wavering gulfs and antic heights, and shifting,<br>Rent in the stuff of a material dark,<br>Wherein the lamplight, scattered and sick and pale,<br>Shows like the leper's living blotch of bale:<br>Uncoiling monstrous into street on street<br>Paven with perils, teeming with mischance,<br>Where man and beast go blindfold and in dread,<br>Working with oaths and threats and faltering feet<br>Somewhither in the hideousness ahead;<br>Working through wicked airs and deadly dews<br>That make the laden robber grin askance<br>At the good places in his black romance,<br>And the poor, loitering harlot rather choose<br>Go pinched and pined to bed<br>Than lurk and shiver and curse her wretched way<br>From arch to arch, scouting some threepenny prey.<br>Forgot his dawns and far-flushed afterglows,<br>His green garlands and windy eyots forgot,<br>The old Father-River flows,<br>His watchfires cores of menace in the gloom,<br>As he came oozing from the Pit, and bore,<br>Sunk in his filthily transfigured sides,<br>Shoals of dishonoured dead to tumble and rot<br>In the squalor of the universal shore:<br>His voices sounding through the gruesome air<br>As from the Ferry where the Boat of Doom<br>With her blaspheming cargo reels and rides:<br>The while his children, the brave ships,<br>No more adventurous and fair,<br>Nor tripping it light of heel as home-bound brides,<br>But infamously enchanted,<br>Huddle together in the foul eclipse,<br>Or feel their course by inches desperately,<br>As through a tangle of alleys murder-haunted,<br>From sinister reach to reach out - out - to sea.<br>And Death the while -<br>Death with his well-worn, lean, professional smile,<br>Death in his threadbare working trim-<br>Comes to your bedside, unannounced and bland,<br>And with expert, inevitable hand<br>Feels at your windpipe, fingers you in the lung,<br>Or flicks the clot well into the labouring heart:<br>Thus signifying unto old and young,<br>However hard of mouth or wild of whim,<br>'Tis time - 'tis time by his ancient watch - to part<br>From books and women and talk and drink and art.<br>And you go humbly after him<br>To a mean suburban lodging: on the way<br>To what or where<br>Not Death, who is old and very wise, can say:<br>And you - how should you care<br>So long as, unreclaimed of hell,<br>The Wind-Fiend, the insufferable,<br>Thus vicious and thus patient, sits him down<br>To the black job of burking London Town?</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=William+Ernest+Henley">William Ernest Henley</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=538194" data-title="Largo E Mesto de William Ernest Henley" data-description="Out of the poisonous East,
Over a continent of blight,
Like a maleficent Influence released
From the most squalid cellerage of hell,
The Wind-Fiend, the abominable-
The Hangman Wind that tortures temper and light-
Comes slouching, sullen and obsce..."></div>
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