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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=508567" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Periods</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=508567" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">My destiny it is tonight<br> To sit with pensive brow<br>Beside my study fire and write<br> This verse I'm making now.<br>This Period, this tiny dot<br> My pencil has defined,<br>By centuries of human thought<br> Was predestined.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=508567" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">And my last period of all<br> With patience now I see;<br>The final point so very small,<br> That locks my life for me.<br>Yet in eternity of time<br> They relatively seem<br>So like,--the dot that rounds my rhyme<br> Or ends my dream.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=508567" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">For each was preordained by Fate<br> Since human life began;<br>So are the little and the great<br> Linked in the life of man.<br>And as I wait without heartache<br> The pencil-point of God,<br>To pattern predestined I make<br> This------.</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+William+Service">Robert William Service</a></strong></div>

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