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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=407893" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>How was it</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=407893" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">Why ask, dear one? I think I cannot tell,<br>More than I know how clouds so sudden lift<br>From mountains, or how snowflakes float and drift,<br>Or springs leave hills. One secret and one spell<br>All true things have. No sunlight ever fell<br>With sound to bid flowers open. Still and swift<br>Come sweetest things on earth.<br>So comes true gift<br>Of Love, and so we know that it is well.<br>Sure tokens also, like the cloud, the snow,<br>And silent flowing of the mountain-springs,<br>The new gift of true loving always brings.<br>In clearer light, in purer paths, we go:<br>New currents of deep joy in common things<br>We find. These are the tokens, dear, we know!</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=Helen+Hunt+Jackson">Helen Hunt Jackson</a></strong></div>

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