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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=343209" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>To a Dead Poet</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=343209" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">I knew not if to laugh or weep;<br>They sat and talked of you--<br>"'Twas here he sat; 'twas this he said!<br>'Twas that he used to do. </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=343209" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">"Here is the book wherein he read,<br>The room wherein he dwelt;<br>And he" (they said) "was such a man,<br>Such things he thought and felt."</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=343209" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">I sat and sat, I did not stir;<br>They talked and talked away.<br>I was as mute as any stone,<br>I had no word to say.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=343209" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">They talked and talked; like to a stone<br>My heart grew in my breast--<br>I, who had never seen your face<br>Perhaps I knew you best.</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=Amy+Levy">Amy Levy</a></strong></div>

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