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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=513843" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Life</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=513843" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">CHILDREN, ye have not lived, to you it seems <br>Life is a lovely stalactite of dreams, <br>Or carnival of careless joys that leap <br>About your hearts like billows on the deep <br>In flames of amber and of amethyst. </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=513843" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><br>Children, ye have not lived, ye but exist <br>Till some resistless hour shall rise and move <br>Your hearts to wake and hunger after love, <br>And thirst with passionate longing for the things <br>That burn your brows with blood-red sufferings. </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=513843" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><br>Till ye have battled with great grief and fears, <br>And borne the conflict of dream-shattering years, <br>Wounded with fierce desire and worn with strife, <br>Children, ye have not lived: for this is life.</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=Sarojini+Naidu">Sarojini Naidu</a></strong></div>

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