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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=519128" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Root</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=519128" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">Deep, Love, yea, very deep.<br>And in the dark exiled,<br>I have no sense of light but still to creep<br>And know the breast, but not the eyes. Thy child<br>Saw ne'er his mother near, nor if she smiled;<br>But only feels her weep.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=519128" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">Yet clouds and branches green<br>There be aloft, somewhere,<br>And winds, and angel birds that build between,<br>As I believe--and I will not despair;<br>For faith is evidence of things not seen.<br>Love! if I could be there!</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=519128" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">I will be patient, dear.<br>Perchance some part of me<br>Puts forth aloft and feels the rushing year<br>And shades the bird, and is that happy tree<br>Then were it strength to serve and not appear,<br>And bliss, though blind, to be.</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=Sir+Arthur+Quiller-Couch">Sir Arthur Quiller-Couch</a></strong></div>

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