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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=342805" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Francine</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=342805" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">Did I believe the angels soon would call<br>You, my beloved, to the other shore,<br>And I should never see you any more,<br>I love you so I know that I should fall<br>Into dejection utterly, and all<br>Love's pretty pageantry, wherein we bore<br>Twin banners bravely in the tumult's fore,<br>Would seem as shadows idling on a wall.<br>So daintily I love you that my love<br>Endures no rumor of the winter's breath,<br>And only blossoms for it thinks the sky<br>Forever gracious, and the stars above<br>Forever friendly. Even the fear of death<br>Were frost wherein its roses all would die.</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=Ambrose+Bierce">Ambrose Bierce</a></strong></div>

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