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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=538718" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>My Nora</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Beneath the gold acacia buds<br>My gentle Nora sits and broods,<br>Far, far away in Boston woods<br>My gentle Nora!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I see the tear-drop in her e'e,<br>Her bosom's heaving tenderly;<br>I know—I know she thinks of me,<br>My Darling Nora!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And where am I? My love, whilst thou<br>Sitt'st sad beneath the acacia bough,<br>Where pearl's on neck, and wreath on brow,<br>I stand, my Nora!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Mid carcanet and coronet,<br>Where joy-lamps shine and flowers are set—<br>Where England's chivalry are met,<br>Behold me, Nora!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">In this strange scene of revelry,<br>Amidst this gorgeous chivalry,<br>A form I saw was like to thee,<br>My love—my Nora!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">She paused amidst her converse glad;<br>The lady saw that I was sad,<br>She pitied the poor lonely lad,—<br>Dost love her, Nora?</div><div style="margin:10px 0">In sooth, she is a lovely dame,<br>A lip of red, and eye of flame,<br>And clustering golden locks, the same<br>As thine, dear Nora?</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Her glance is softer than the dawn's,<br>Her foot is lighter than the fawn's,<br>Her breast is whiter than the swan's,<br>Or thine, my Nora!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Oh, gentle breast to pity me!<br>Oh, lovely Ladye Emily!<br>Till death—till death I'll think of thee—<br>Of thee and Nora!</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=William+Makepeace+Thackeray">William Makepeace Thackeray</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=538718" data-title="My Nora de William Makepeace Thackeray" data-description="Beneath the gold acacia buds
My gentle Nora sits and broods,
Far, far away in Boston woods
My gentle Nora!

I see the tear-drop in her e'e,
Her bosom's heaving tenderly;
I know—I know she thinks of me,
My Darling Nora!

And where am I? My love, ..."></div>
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