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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=536247" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>My Shy Hand</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=536247" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">My shy hand shades a hermitage apart, -<br>O large enough for thee, and thy brief hours.<br>Life there is sweeter held than in God's heart,<br>Stiller than in the heavens of hollow flowers.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=536247" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><br>The wine is gladder there than in gold bowls.<br>And Time shall not drain thence, nor trouble spill.<br>Sources between my fingers feed all souls,<br>Where thou mayest cool thy lips, and draw thy fill.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=536247" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><br>Five cushions hath my hand, for reveries;<br>And one deep pillow for thy brow's fatigues;<br>Languor of June all winterlong, and ease<br>For ever from the vain untravelled leagues.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=536247" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><br>Thither your years may gather in from storm,<br>And Love, that sleepeth there, will keep thee warm.</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=Wilfred+Owen">Wilfred Owen</a></strong></div>

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