<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=115697" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>A Fragment</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Maiden, thou wert thoughtless once<br>Of beauty or of grace,<br>Simple and homely in attire<br>Careless of form and face.<br>Then whence this change, and why so oft<br>Dost smooth thy hazel hair?<br>And wherefore deck thy youthful form<br>With such unwearied care?<br>'Tell us ­- and cease to tire our ears<br>With yonder hackneyed strain ­-<br>Why wilt thou play those simple tunes<br>So often o'er again?'<br>'Nay, gentle friends, I can but say<br>That childhood's thoughts are gone.<br>Each year its own new feelings brings<br>And years move swiftly on,</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And for these little simple airs,<br>I love to play them o'er ­-<br>So much I dare not promise now<br>To play them never more.'<br>I answered and it was enough;<br>They turned them to depart;<br>They could not read my secret thoughts<br>Nor see my throbbing heart.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I've noticed many a youthful form<br>Upon whose changeful face<br>The inmost workings of the soul<br>The gazer's eye might trace.<br>The speaking eye, the changing lip,<br>The ready blushing cheek,<br>The smiling or beclouded brow<br>Their different feelings speak.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">But, thank God! you might gaze on mine<br>For hours and never know<br>The secret changes of my soul<br>From joy to bitter woe.<br>Last night, as we sat round the fire<br>Conversing merrily,<br>We heard without approaching steps<br>Of one well known to me.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">There was no trembling in my voice,<br>No blush upon my cheek,<br>No lustrous sparkle in my eyes,<br>Of hope or joy to speak;<br>But O my spirit burned within,<br>My heart beat thick and fast.<br>He came not nigh ­- he went away<br>And then my joy was past.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And yet my comrades marked it not,<br>My voice was still the same;<br>They saw me smile, and o'er my face ­-<br>No signs of sadness came;<br>They little knew my hidden thoughts<br>And they will never know<br>The anguish of my drooping heart,<br>The bitter aching woe!</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Anne+Bront%C3%AB">Anne Brontë</a><div class=q> <img src="https://www.citatepedia.ro/g/32share.png" style="float:left" alt="Share"> <script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=115697" data-title="A Fragment de Anne Brontë" data-description="Maiden, thou wert thoughtless once/Of beauty or of grace,/Simple and homely in attire/Careless of form and face./Then whence this change, and why so oft/Dost smooth thy hazel hair?/And wherefore deck thy youthful form/With such unwearied care?/'Te..."></div> </div> </div>

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