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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=348679" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Abandoned</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=348679" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">The moonlight touched the sombre waters white.<br>Beneath the bridge 'twas darker. Was she cold?<br>She shivered. Her poor shawl was worn and old,<br>And she was desolate, and it was night.<br>The slow canal crept onward; to her sight<br>It seemed to beckon, and the lapping told<br>Of rest and quiet sleep: how sweet to fold<br>The hands from toil and close the eyes from light,<br>And so shut out all memory, and go<br>There where men sleep, and dreams, perhaps, are not.<br>O never any dreams, she murmured; so,<br>Longing for sleep, the sleep that comes with death,<br>She fell, she felt the water, and forgot<br>All, save the drowning agony of breath.</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=Arthur+Symons">Arthur Symons</a></strong></div>

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