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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=454836" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Bartimeus Grown Old</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=454836" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">YEA, I am he that dwelt beside this tomb.<br>I was a child. God smote me from the sun.<br>A little while, I had forgot to run<br>Under the rain-sweet roof of almond bloom.<br>I had forgotten summer, and the flaw<br>Ruffling the gray sea and the yellowed grain.<br>Now I am old and I forget again,<br>But a man came and touched me, and I saw.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=454836" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">Long years he dowered me with imperial day,<br>Bright-blossomed night and all the stars in trust.<br>Now I am blind again, and by the way<br>Wait still to catch his footsteps in the dust.<br>Surely he comes?–and he will hear my cry,<br>Though he were stricken and dim and old as I.</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=Marjorie+Lowry+Christie+Pickthall">Marjorie Lowry Christie Pickthall</a></strong></div>

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