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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=408063" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Thanks</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=408063" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">HER griefs were the hours <br>When my struggle was sore,-- <br>Her joys were the powers <br>That the climber upbore. </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=408063" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">Her home is the boundless <br>Free ocean that seems <br>To rock, calm and soundless, <br>My galleon of dreams. </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=408063" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">Half hers are the glancing <br>Creations that throng <br>With pageant and dancing <br>The ways of my song. </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=408063" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">My fires when they dwindle <br>Are lit from her brand; <br>Men see them rekindle <br>Nor guess by whose hand. </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=408063" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">Of thanks to requite her <br>No least thought is hers,-- <br>And therefore I write her, <br>Once, thanks in a verse.</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=Henrik+Johan+Ibsen">Henrik Johan Ibsen</a></strong></div>

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