<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=343202" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Old Poet</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">I will be glad because it is the Spring;<br>I will forget the winter in my heart--<br>Dead hopes and withered promise; and will wring<br>A little joy from life ere life depart.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">For spendthrift youth with passion-blinded eyes,<br>Stays not to see how woods and fields are bright;<br>He hears the phantom voices call, he flies<br>Upon the track of some unknown delight.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">To him the tender glory of the May,<br>White wonder of the blossom, and the clear,<br>Soft green leaves that opened yesterday,<br>This only say: Forward, my friend, not here!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">They breathe no other messages than this,<br>They have no other meaning for his heart;<br>Unto his troubled sense they tell of bliss,<br>Which make, themselves, of bliss the better part.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Yea, joy is near him, tho' he does not know;<br>Her unregarded shape is at his side,<br>Her unheard voice is whispering clear and low,<br>Whom, resting never, seeks he far and wide.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">So once it was with us, my heart ! To-day<br>We will be glad because the leaves are green,<br>Because the fields are fair and soft with May,<br>Nor think on squandered springtimes that have been.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Amy+Levy">Amy Levy</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=343202" data-title="The Old Poet de Amy Levy" data-description="I will be glad because it is the Spring; I will forget the winter in my heart-- Dead hopes and withered promise; and will wring A little joy from life ere life depart. For spendthrift youth with passion-blinded eyes, Stays not to see how woods an..."></div> </div> </div>

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