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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=341324" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Agatha</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">SHE wanders in the April woods, <br> That glisten with the fallen shower; <br>She leans her face against the buds, <br> She stops, she stoops, she plucks a flower. <br> She feels the ferment of the hour: <br>She broodeth when the ringdove broods; <br> The sun and flying clouds have power <br>Upon her cheek and changing moods. <br> She cannot think she is alone, <br> As o’er her senses warmly steal <br> Floods of unrest she fears to own, <br> And almost dreads to feel. <br> <br>Among the summer woodlands wide <br> Anew she roams, no more alone; <br>The joy she fear’d is at her side,<br> Spring’s blushing secret now is known. <br> The primrose and its mates have flown, <br>The thrush’s ringing note hath died; <br> But glancing eye and glowing tone <br>Fall on her from her god, her guide.<br> She knows not, asks not, what the goal, <br> She only feels she moves towards bliss, <br> And yields her pure unquestioning soul <br> To touch and fondling kiss. <br> <br>And still she haunts those woodland ways, <br> Though all fond fancy finds there now <br>To mind of spring or summer days, <br> Are sodden trunk and songless bough. <br> The past sits widow’d on her brow, <br>Homeward she wends with wintry gaze,<br> To walls that house a hollow vow, <br>To hearth where love hath ceas’d to blaze: <br> Watches the clammy twilight wane, <br> With grief too fix’d for woe or tear; <br> And, with her forehead ’gainst the pane,<br> Envies the dying year.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Alfred+Austin">Alfred Austin</a><div class=q>
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<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=341324" data-title="Agatha de Alfred Austin" data-description="SHE wanders in the April woods, 
 That glisten with the fallen shower; 
She leans her face against the buds, 
 She stops, she stoops, she plucks a flower. 
 She feels the ferment of the hour: 
She broodeth when the ringdove broods; 
 The sun and f..."></div>
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