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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=403112" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Tower</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=403112" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">He built a tower for all to see, <br>With sun-washed gardens planted wide. <br>And there with pomp of pageantry, <br>With men-at-arms and minstrelsy <br>And moonbeam ladies fair and free, <br>He revelled in his pride. <br>And there, with soft prayers muttered slow, <br>And wind-blown candles burning low, <br>And hooded mourners row on row, <br>In pomp of peace he died. </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=403112" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">Now time forgets how many a sun <br>Above the waste has risen and run <br>Since all the feasts were over and done; <br>Yet still from rusty pinnacle, <br>From cobwebbed pane and broken bell, <br>A wind-voice murmurs: Here am I— <br>'Twas good to live and die; <br>And good to rear these carved stones well <br>'Twixt laboring earth and dreaming sky. <br>And now 'tis good to watch and wait <br>While the slow centuries pass in state, <br>And make old time my glory tell <br>To you who wander by.</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=Harriet+Monroe">Harriet Monroe</a></strong></div>

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