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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=507715" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Sonnet VII</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=507715" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">The strong man's hand, the snow-cool head of age,<br>The certain-footed sympathies of youth -<br>These, and that lofty passion after truth,<br>Hunger unsatisfied in priest or sage<br>Or the great men of former years, he needs<br>That not unworthily would dare to sing<br>(Hard task!) black care's inevitable ring<br>Settling with years upon the heart that feeds<br>Incessantly on glory. Year by year<br>The narrowing toil grows closer round his feet;<br>With disenchanting touch rude-handed time<br>The unlovely web discloses, and strange fear<br>Leads him at last to eld's inclement seat,<br>The bitter north of life - a frozen clime.</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=Robert+Louis+Stevenson">Robert Louis Stevenson</a></strong></div>

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