Click in the field, then press CTRL+C to copy the HTML code
Halls grew darker
Halls grew darker and somehow faded.
Grates of windows drowned in black.
Every knight, every beautiful lady
Knew the tiding: "The Queen's deadly sick."
And the king, very silent and frowned,
Passed the doors, lost of pages and slaves ...
Every word, that by chance cast around,
Proved the truth of the closing grave.
By the doors of the silent abode
I was crying, while pressing the brace ...
At the end of the passage remote
Someone echoed me, hiding his face.
By the doors of the Beautiful Lady
I was sobbing, attired in blue ...
And the stranger of ashen face sadly
Echoed me all my sufferings through.
poem
by
Aleksandr Aleksandrovich Blok
solid border
dashed border
dotted border
double border
groove border
ridge border
inset border
outset border
no border
blue
green
red
purple
cyan
gold
silver
black