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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=341304" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>A Portrait</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=341304" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">When friends grown faithless, or the fickle throng,<br>Withdrawing from my life the love they lent,<br>Breed in my heart disdainful discontent,<br>And sadden sunshine with a sense of wrong,<br>Then I, forgetting to be wise and strong,<br>And on my own endearment too intent,<br>Unto myself make musical lament,<br>And lullaby my pain with plaintive song.<br>But, when I gaze upon this face august,<br>Her gift, who, seated on earth's loftiest throne,<br>For others' weal holds half the world in trust,<br>Pondering on cares of Empire all alone,<br>I, then rebuked, remember to be just,<br>Think of her griefs, and quite forget my own.</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=Alfred+Austin">Alfred Austin</a></strong></div>

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