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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=536800" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>True Being</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=536800" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">True Being </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=536800" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><br>Rich hour! is not thy gift a radiant thing? <br>The truth here blazoned in this marble and gold, <br>Here writ in this refulgence manifold, <br>Hath sunned my groped redemption: lo, I fling-- <br>How lightly!--off ungraced desire; I cling <br>To that faith firm this splendour hath retold: <br>My spirit, towered, doth its sheer track behold, <br>And shakes the dust of chaos from its wing. <br>Life that is death, riches named with a lie, <br>This fane would, that the sum of both employs, <br>Your tears unseal if ignorance could weep. <br>Is not true being locked in tombs? and die <br>Must not we in death ere life's innater joys <br>We may, as I now, clasp as in a sleep?</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=William+Baylebridge">William Baylebridge</a></strong></div>

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