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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=115807" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Beginning</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=115807" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">Some day I shall rise and leave my friends<br>And seek you again through the world's far ends,<br>You whom I found so fair<br>(Touch of your hands and smell of your hair!),<br>My only god in the days that were.<br>My eager feet shall find you again,<br>Though the sullen years and the mark of pain<br>Have changed you wholly; for I shall know<br>(How could I forget having loved you so?),<br>In the sad half-light of evening,<br>The face that was all my sunrising.<br>So then at the ends of the earth I'll stand<br>And hold you fiercely by either hand,<br>And seeing your age and ashen hair<br>I'll curse the thing that once you were,<br>Because it is changed and pale and old<br>(Lips that were scarlet, hair that was gold!),<br>And I loved you before you were old and wise,<br>When the flame of youth was strong in your eyes,<br> - And my heart is sick with memories.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><a href="http://poems.citatepedia.com/">poem</a> by <strong><a rel="author" href="http://authors.citatepedia.com/by.php?a=Rupert+Brooke">Rupert Brooke</a></strong></div>

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