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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=536490" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Natalia’s Resurrection: Sonnet III</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=536490" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">Matron was she of a great Roman house,<br>And wed in youth to one she might not love;<br>Her birth, her fortune, her name luminous,<br>Such as all noblest virtues most behove.<br>How dare she trifle with ignoble things,<br>Or yield her fair fame to a stranger's care,<br>Or let her passionate desire take wings,<br>Or be of those unchastely debonnaire?<br>Yet with him she was well, and far from him<br>A bird shaft--stricken which no more may fly.<br>She deemed his smile as of the seraphim,<br>And in his frown she was one like to die.<br>For his dear sake 'twixt niggard hopes and fears<br>She lived in death for two long weary years.</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=Wilfrid+Scawen+Blunt">Wilfrid Scawen Blunt</a></strong></div>

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