<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=116259" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>"De Gustibus—"</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">I.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Your ghost will walk, you lover of trees,<br> (If our loves remain)<br> In an English lane,<br>By a cornfield-side a-flutter with poppies.<br>Hark, those two in the hazel coppice—<br>A boy and a girl, if the good fates please,<br> Making love, say,—<br> The happier they!<br>Draw yourself up from the light of the moon,<br>And let them pass, as they will too soon,<br> With the bean-flowers' boon,<br> And the blackbird's tune,<br> And May, and June!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">II.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">What I love best in all the world<br>Is a castle, precipice-encurled,<br>In a gash of the wind-grieved Apennine<br>Or look for me, old fellow of mine,<br>(If I get my head from out the mouth<br>O' the grave, and loose my spirit's bands,<br>And come again to the land of lands)—<br>In a sea-side house to the farther South,<br>Where the baked cicala dies of drouth,<br>And one sharp tree—'tis a cypress—stands,<br>By the many hundred years red-rusted,<br>Rough iron-spiked, ripe fruit-o'ercrusted,<br>My sentinel to guard the sands<br>To the water's edge. For, what expands<br>Before the house, but the great opaque<br>Blue breadth of sea without a break?<br>While, in the house, for ever crumbles<br>Some fragment of the frescoed walls,<br>From blisters where a scorpion sprawls.<br>A girl bare-footed brings, and tumbles<br>Down on the pavement, green-flesh melons,<br>And says there's news to-day—the king<br>Was shot at, touched in the liver-wing,<br>Goes with his Bourbon arm in a sling:<br>—She hopes they have not caught the felons.<br>Italy, my Italy!<br>Queen Mary's saying serves for me—<br> (When fortune's malice<br> Lost her—Calais)—<br>Open my heart and you will see<br>Graved inside of it, "Italy."<br>Such lovers old are I and she:<br>So it always was, so shall ever be!</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Robert+Browning">Robert Browning</a> from <i>Men and Women</i><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=116259" data-title=""De Gustibus—" de Robert Browning" data-description="I./Your ghost will walk, you lover of trees,/ (If our loves remain)/ In an English lane,/By a cornfield-side a-flutter with poppies./Hark, those two in the hazel coppice—/A boy and a girl, if the good fates please,/ Making love, say,—/ The hap..."></div> </div> </div>

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