Click in the field, then press CTRL+C to copy the HTML code
The Stars
THE terrible tranquillity of space!
My soul shrinks back in sudden doubt. I fear
The myriad eyes that through the ether peer,
And chill the arrogance that dared to trace
The grave enigma of the cosmic face.
Yet through the soundless night a voice austere—
“We that you deem afar are small and near;
With lowly things and humble we have place;
We are but smoke that from a burnt Past rears;
The idle spray God's prow flings in its sweep
Through wider waters; the mere dust that curls
From his vast chariot-wheels as on He whirls;
The futile sparks that from His anvil leap;
Or drifting seeds, pregnant of larger spheres.”
poem
by
Arthur Henry Adams
solid border
dashed border
dotted border
double border
groove border
ridge border
inset border
outset border
no border
blue
green
red
purple
cyan
gold
silver
black