Click in the field, then press CTRL+C to copy the HTML code
Book Of Suleika - The Sublime Type
THE sun, whom Grecians Helms call,
His heavenly path with pride doth tread,
And, to subdue the world's wide all,
Looks round, beneath him, high o'er head.
He sees the fairest goddess pine,
Heaven's child, the daughter of the clouds,--
For her alone he seems to shine;
In trembling grief his form he shrouds,
Careless for all the realms of bliss,--
Her streaming tears more swiftly flow:
For every pearl he gives a kiss,
And changeth into joy her woe.
She gazeth upward fixedly,
And deeply feels his glance of might,
While, stamped with his own effigy,
Each pearl would range itself aright.
Thus wreath'd with bows, with hues thus grac'd,
With gladness beams her face so fair,
While he, to meet her, maketh haste,
And yet, alas! can reach her ne'er.
So, by the harsh decree of Fate,
Thou modest from me, dearest one;
And were I Helms e'en, the Great,
What would avail his chariot-throne?
poem
by
Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
solid border
dashed border
dotted border
double border
groove border
ridge border
inset border
outset border
no border
blue
green
red
purple
cyan
gold
silver
black