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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=536497" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Natalia’s Resurrection: Sonnet X</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=536497" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">But with full daylight finding no relief,<br>Though he had spent the newness of his fears<br>And looked with altered eyes upon his grief,<br>For sorrow often drowses in its tears,<br>And men sleep deepest on a wound, he rose<br>And taking horse made in all haste for Rome,<br>Thinking if thus he might assuage his woes<br>By visiting his dead Natalia's tomb<br>And asking of her dear new--buried lips<br>What secret thought had been of love and him<br>When the world left her in its last eclipse.<br>And still in passionate words he made his theme,<br>That she was waiting yet to hear his cry:<br>``O my soul's soul, I did not bid thee die.''</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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