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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=341028" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Burnt Out Is Now My Misery</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=341028" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">Burnt out is now my misery--<br>love's yearning<br>No more unspeakably torments my heart,<br>Yet bearable alone through thee, my being--<br>All thou art not is idle, stale and dying,<br>Colourless, withered, dead,--save where thou art!</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=341028" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">If I no more through false suspicion trouble<br>Thy happiness,--nor more my blood inflames my veins,<br>It is not turned to ice 'neath snowy cover,<br>But free from jealousy, to thee thy lover<br>Always with soul of ardour true remains.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=341028" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">So in their rapid fury mountain torrents<br>That hurl them off their moss-grown altars steep,<br>Seeking the flood with tossing, foaming riot--<br>Here in the vale are bound in the old currents,<br>To stream in future calm and clear and deep!</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=Aleksey+Konstantinovich+Tolstoy">Aleksey Konstantinovich Tolstoy</a></strong></div>

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