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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=535359" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Market-Place</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=535359" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">My mind is like a clamorous market-place. <br>All day in wind, rain, sun, its babel wells; <br>Voice answering to voice in tumult swells. <br>Chaffering and laughing, pushing for a place, <br>My thoughts haste on, gay, strange, poor, simple, base; <br>This one buys dust, and that a bauble sells: <br>But none to any scrutiny hints or tells <br>The haunting secrets hidden in each sad face. </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=535359" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><br>The clamour quietens when the dark draws near; <br>Strange looms the earth in twilight of the West, <br>Lonely with one sweet star serene and clear, <br>Dwelling, when all this place is hushed to rest, <br>On vacant stall, gold, refuse, worst and best, <br>Abandoned utterly in haste and fear.</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=Walter+de+la+Mare">Walter de la Mare</a></strong></div>

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