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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=343091" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>To a Maniac</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">There was a time, poor phrensied maid,<br>When I could o'er thy grief have mourned,<br>And still with tears the tale repaid<br>Of sense by sorrow's sway o'erturned.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">But now thy state my envy moves:<br>For thou art woe's unconscious prize;<br>Thy heart no sense of suffering proves,<br>No fruitless tears bedew thine eyes.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Excess of sorrow, kind to thee,<br>At once destroyed thy reason's power;<br>But reason still remains to me,<br>And only bids me grieve the more.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Amelia+Opie">Amelia Opie</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=343091" data-title="To a Maniac de Amelia Opie" data-description="There was a time, poor phrensied maid,
When I could o'er thy grief have mourned,
And still with tears the tale repaid
Of sense by sorrow's sway o'erturned.

But now thy state my envy moves:
For thou art woe's unconscious prize;
Thy heart no sense ..."></div>
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