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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=341625" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Come Into the Garde, Maud</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Come into the garden, Maud, <br> For the black bat, Night, has flown, <br>Come into the garden, Maud, <br> I am here at the gate alone; <br>And the woodbine spices are wafted abroad, <br> And the musk of the roses blown. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">For a breeze of morning moves, <br> And the planet of Love is on high, <br>Beginning to faint in the light that she loves <br> On a bed of daffodil sky, <br>To faint in the light of the sun she loves, <br> To faint in his light, and to die. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">All night have the roses heard <br> The flute, violin, bassoon; <br>All night has the casement jessamine stirr'd <br> To the dancers dancing in tune: <br>Till a silence fell with the waking bird, <br> And a hush with the setting moon. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">I said to the lily, &quot;There is but one <br> With whom she has heart to be gay. <br>When will the dancers leave her alone? <br> She is weary of dance and play.&quot; <br>Now half to the setting moon are gone, <br> And half to the rising day; <br>Low on the sand and loud on the stone <br> The last wheel echoes away. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">I said to the rose, &quot;The brief night goes <br> In babble and revel and wine. <br>O young lordlover, what sighs are those <br> For one that will never be thine? <br>But mine, but mine,&quot; so I sware to the rose, <br> &quot;For ever and ever, mine.&quot; </div><div style="margin:10px 0">And the soul of the rose went into my blood, <br> As the music clash'd in the hall; <br>And long by the garden lake I stood, <br> For I heard your rivulet fall <br>From the lake to the meadow and on to the wood, <br> Our wood, that is dearer than all; </div><div style="margin:10px 0">From the meadow your walks have left so sweet <br> That whenever a March-wind sighs <br>He sets the jewelprint of your feet <br> In violets blue as your eyes, <br>To the woody hollows in which we meet <br> And the valleys of Paradise. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">The slender acacia would not shake <br> One long milk-bloom on the tree; <br>The white lake-blossom fell into the lake, <br> As the pimpernel dozed on the lea; <br>But the rose was awake all night for your sake, <br> Knowing your promise to me; <br>The lilies and roses were all awake, <br> They sigh'd for the dawn and thee. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Queen rose of the rosebud garden of girls, <br> Come hither, the dances are done, <br>In gloss of satin and glimmer of pearls, <br> Queen lily and rose in one; <br>Shine out, little head, sunning over with curls, <br> To the flowers, and be their sun. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">There has fallen a splendid tear <br> From the passion-flower at the gate. <br>She is coming, my dove, my dear; <br> She is coming, my life, my fate; <br>The red rose cries, &quot;She is near, she is near;&quot; <br> And the white rose weeps, &quot;She is late;&quot; <br>The larkspur listens, &quot;I hear, I hear;&quot; <br> And the lily whispers, &quot;I wait.&quot; </div><div style="margin:10px 0">She is coming, my own, my sweet; <br> Were it ever so airy a tread, <br>My heart would hear her and beat, <br> Were it earth in an earthy bed; <br>My dust would hear her and beat, <br> Had I lain for a century dead; <br>Would start and tremble under her feet, <br> And blossom in purple and red.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Alfred+Lord+Tennyson">Alfred Lord Tennyson</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=341625" data-title="Come Into the Garde, Maud de Alfred Lord Tennyson" data-description="Come into the garden, Maud, 
 For the black bat, Night, has flown, 
Come into the garden, Maud, 
 I am here at the gate alone; 
And the woodbine spices are wafted abroad, 
 And the musk of the roses blown. 

For a breeze of morning moves, 
 And th..."></div>
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