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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=539882" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Dreamers</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">THEY lingered on the middle heights<br>Betwixt the brown earth and the heaven;<br>They whispered, 'We are not the night's,<br>But pallid children of the even.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">They muttered, 'We are not the day's,<br>For the old struggle and endeavour,<br>The rugged and unquiet ways<br>Are dead and driven past for ever.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">They dreamed upon the cricket's tune,<br>The winds that stirred the withered grasses:<br>But never saw the blood-red moon<br>That lit the spectre mountain-passes.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">They sat and marked the brooklet steal<br>In smoke-mist o'er its silvered surges:<br>But marked not, with its peal on peal,<br>The storm that swept the granite gorges.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">They dreamed the shimmer and the shade,<br>And sought in pools for haunted faces:<br>Nor heard again the cannonade<br>In dreams from earth's old battle-places.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">They spake, 'The ages all are dead,<br>The strife, the struggle, and the glory;<br>We are the silences that wed<br>Betwixt the story and the story.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'We are the little winds that moan<br>Between the woodlands and the meadows;<br>We are the ghosted leaves, wind-blown<br>Across the gust-light and the shadows.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Then came a soul across those lands<br>Whose face was all one glad, rapt wonder,<br>And spake: 'The skies are ribbed with bands<br>Of fire, and heaven all racked with thunder.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Climb up and see the glory spread,<br>High over cliff and 'scarpment yawning:<br>The night is past, the dark is dead,<br>Behold the triumph of the dawning!'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Then laughed they with a wistful scorn,<br>'You are a ghost, a long-dead vision;<br>You passed by ages ere was born<br>This twilight of the days elysian.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'There is no hope, there is no strife,<br>But only haunted hearts that hunger<br>About a dead, scarce-dreamed-of life,<br>Old ages when the earth was younger.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Then came by one in mad distress,<br>'Haste, haste below, where strong arms weaken,<br>The fighting ones grow less and less!<br>Great cities of the world are taken!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Dread evil rolls by like a flood,<br>Men's bones beneath his surges whiten,<br>Go where the ages mark in blood<br>The footsteps that their days enlighten.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Still they but heard, discordant mirth,<br>The thin winds through the dead stalks rattle,<br>While out from far-off haunts of earth<br>There smote the mighty sound of battle.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Now there was heard an awful cry,<br>Despair that rended heaven asunder,<br>White pauses when a cause would die,<br>Where love was lost and souls went under,</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The while these feebly dreamed and talked<br>Betwixt the brown earth and the heaven,<br>Faint ghosts of men who breathed and walked,<br>But deader than the dead ones even.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And out there on the middle height<br>They sought in pools for haunted faces,<br>Nor heard the cry across the night<br>That swept from earth's dread battle-places.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=William+Wilfred+Campbell">William Wilfred Campbell</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=539882" data-title="The Dreamers de William Wilfred Campbell" data-description="THEY lingered on the middle heights
Betwixt the brown earth and the heaven;
They whispered, 'We are not the night's,
But pallid children of the even.'

They muttered, 'We are not the day's,
For the old struggle and endeavour,
The rugged and unquie..."></div>
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