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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=381335" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Fragment</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=381335" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">Faint white pillars that seem to fade <br>As you look from here are the first one sees <br>Of his house where it hides and dies in a shade <br>Of beeches and oaks and hickory trees. <br>Now many a man, given woods like these, <br>And a house like that, and the Briony gold, <br>Would have said, "There are still some gods to please, <br>And houses are built without hands, we're told.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=381335" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">There are the pillars, and all gone gray. <br>Briony's hair went white. You may see <br>Where the garden was if you come this way. <br>That sun-dial scared him, he said to me; <br>"Sooner or later they strike," said he, <br>But he knew too much for the life he led.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=381335" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">And who knows all knows everything <br>That a patient ghost at last retrieves; <br>There's more to be known of his harvesting <br>When Time the thresher unbinds the sheaves; <br>And there's more to be heard than a wind that grieves <br>For Briony now in this ageless oak, <br>Driving the first of its withered leaves <br>Over the stones where the fountain broke.</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=Edwin+Arlington+Robinson">Edwin Arlington Robinson</a></strong></div>