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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=341140" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Demon</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=341140" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">In bygone days when life's array - <br>The sweet song of the nightingale<br>And maidens' eyes, the rustling woods - <br>Still left a fresh impression on me,<br>When loftiness of feeling,<br>And freedom, glory, love<br>Artistic inspiration<br>So deeply stirred my blood,<br>My times of hope were cast in shade<br>And pleasure dimmed by longing,<br>For it was then an evil genius<br>Began to pay me secret visits.<br>Our meetings were quite dolorous:<br>His smile, his glance mysterious,<br>His venom-filled and caustic sermons<br>Poured frozen poison in my soul.<br>With endless slandering remarks<br>He tempted Providence;<br>He claimed that beauty's but a dream;<br>Felt scorn for inspiration;<br>He had no faith in love or freedom;<br>He looked on life with ridicule-<br>And in the whole of nature<br>He did not wish to praise a single thing.</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=Alexander+Sergeyevich+Pushkin">Alexander Sergeyevich Pushkin</a></strong></div>