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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=364090" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Firelight and Nightfall</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=364090" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">The darkness steals the forms of all the queens,<br>But oh, the palms of his two black hands are red, <br>Inflamed with binding up the sheaves of dead <br>Hours that were once all glory and all queens. <br> <br>And I remember all the sunny hours<br>Of queens in hyacinth and skies of gold, <br>And morning singing where the woods are scrolled<br>And diapered above the chaunting flowers. <br> <br>Here lamps are white like snowdrops in the grass;<br>The town is like a churchyard, all so still<br>And grey now night is here; nor will <br>Another torn red sunset come to pass.</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=David+Herbert+Lawrence">David Herbert Lawrence</a></strong></div>

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