<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=118343" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>A London Idyll</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">On grass, on gravel, in the sun,<br>Or now beneath the shade,<br>They went, in pleasant Kensington,<br>A prentice and a maid.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">That Sunday morning’s April glow,<br>How should it not impart<br>A stir about the veins that flow<br>To feed the youthful heart.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Ah! years may come, and years may bring<br>The truth that is not bliss,<br>But will they bring another thing<br>That can compare with this?</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I read it in that arm she lays<br>So soft on his; her mien,<br>Her step, her very gown betrays<br>(What in her eyes were seen)<br>That not in vain the young buds round,<br>The cawing birds above,<br>The air, the incense of the ground,<br>Are whispering, breathing love.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Ah I years may come, &c.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">To inclination, young and blind,<br>So perfect, as they lent,<br>By purest innocence confined<br>Unconscious free consent.<br>Persuasive power of vernal change,<br>On this, thine earliest day,<br>Canst thou have found in all thy range<br>One fitter type than they?</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Ah! years may come, &c.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Th’ high-titled cares of adult strife,<br>Which we our duties call,<br>Trades, arts, and politics of life,<br>Say, have they after all,<br>One other object, end or use<br>Than that, for girl and boy,<br>The punctual earth may still produce<br>This golden flower of joy.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Ah! years may come, &c.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">O odours of new-budding rose,<br>O lily’s chaste perfume,<br>O fragrance that didst first unclose<br>The young Creation’s bloom!<br>Ye hang around me, while in sun<br>Anon and now in shade,<br>I watched in pleasant Kensington<br>The prentice and the maid.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Ah! years may come, and years may bring<br>The truth that is not bliss,<br>But will they bring another thing<br>That will compare with this?</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Arthur+Hugh+Clough">Arthur Hugh Clough</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=118343" data-title="A London Idyll de Arthur Hugh Clough" data-description="On grass, on gravel, in the sun,/Or now beneath the shade,/They went, in pleasant Kensington,/A prentice and a maid./That Sunday morning’s April glow,/How should it not impart/A stir about the veins that flow/To feed the youthful heart./Ah! year..."></div> </div> </div>

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