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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=391212" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Impressions Of Francois-Marie Arouet (De Voltaire)</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=391212" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">I<br>Phyllidula and the Spoils of Gouvernet</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=391212" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">Where, Lady, are the days<br>When you could go out in a hired hansom<br>Without footmen and equipments?<br>And dine in a soggy, cheap restaurant?<br>Phyllidula now, with your powdered Swiss footman<br>Clanking the door shut,<br>and lying;<br>And carpets from Savonnier, and from Persia,<br>And your new service at dinner,<br>And plates from Germain,<br>And cabinets and chests from Martin (almost lacquer),<br>And your white vases from Japan,<br>And the lustre of diamonds,<br>Etcetera, etcetera, and etcetera?</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=391212" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">II<br>To Madame du Châtelet</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=391212" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">If you'd have me go on loving you<br>Give me back the time of the thing.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=391212" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">Will you give me dawn light at evening?<br>Time has driven me out from the fine plaisaunces,</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=391212" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">The parks with the swards all over dew,<br>And grass going glassy with the light on it,<br>The green stretches where love is and the grapes<br>Hang in yellow-white and dark clusters ready for pressing.<br>And if now we can't fit with our time of life<br>There is not much but its evil left us.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=391212" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">Life gives us two minutes, two seasons<br>One to be dull in;<br>Two deaths and to stop loving and being lovable,<br>That is the real death,<br>The other is little beside it.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=391212" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">Crying after the follies gone by me,<br>Quiet talking is all that is left us<br>Gentle talking, not like the first talking, less lively;<br>And to follow after friendship, as they call it,<br>Weeping that we can follow naught else.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=391212" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">III<br>To Madame Lullin</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=391212" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">You'll wonder that an old man of eighty<br>Can go on writing you verses. . . .</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=391212" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">Grass showing under the snow,<br>Birds singing late in the year!</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=391212" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">And Tibullus could say of his death, in his Latin:<br>'Delia, I would look on you, dying.'</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=391212" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">And Delia herself fading out,<br>Forgetting even her beauty.</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=Ezra+Pound">Ezra Pound</a></strong></div>