<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=341558" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Oh, see how thick the goldcup flowers</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Oh, see how thick the goldcup flowers <br>Are lying in field and lane, <br>With dandelions to tell the hours <br>That never are told again. <br>Oh may I squire you round the meads <br>And pick you posies gay? <br>--'Twill do no harm to take my arm. <br>'You may, young man, you may.' </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Ah, spring was sent for lass and lad, <br>'Tis now the blood runs gold, <br>And man and maid had best be glad <br>Before the world is old. <br>What flowers to-day may flower to-morrow, <br>But never as good as new. <br>--Suppose I wound my arm right round-- <br>''Tis true, young man, 'tis true.' </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Some lads there are, 'tis shame to say, <br>That only court to thieve, <br>And once they bear the bloom away <br>'Tis little enough they leave. <br>Then keep your heart for men like me <br>And safe from trustless chaps. <br>My love is true and all for you. <br>'Perhaps, young man, perhaps.' </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Oh, look in my eyes then, can you doubt? <br>--Why, 'tis a mile from town. <br>How green the grass is all about! <br>We might as well sit down. <br>--Ah, life, what is it but a flower? <br>Why must true lovers sigh? <br>Be kind, have pity, my own, my pretty,-- <br>'Good-bye, young man, good-bye.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Alfred+Edward+Housman">Alfred Edward Housman</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=341558" data-title="Oh, see how thick the goldcup flowers de Alfred Edward Housman" data-description="Oh, see how thick the goldcup flowers Are lying in field and lane, With dandelions to tell the hours That never are told again. Oh may I squire you round the meads And pick you posies gay? --'Twill do no harm to take my arm. 'You may, young..."></div> </div> </div>

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