<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=349981" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Old Dream</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">NAY, tell me not. I will not know.<br>Because of her my life is bare,<br>A waste where blow-seeds spring and grow<br>Then die because the soil is spent,<br>And leave no token they were there;<br>A soddened mere where marsh-lights gleam,<br>But no star sees the ray it lent<br>Because of her despoiled and bare.<br>What then? she did a wrong unmeant.<br>Leave me my dream.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Tell me no more. I will not know.<br>My life, if she had harsher eyes,<br>Did her sweet voice not deepen so,<br>Had maybe missed this bitterness;<br>Maybe I should have been more wise<br>If she were sterner, or could seem,<br>If she could have been pitiless.<br>Too sweet low voice! too trustful eyes!<br>What then? she could not judge their stress<br>Leave me my dream.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I will not know. Rob not my heart:<br>It is too poor to lose yet more.<br>Leave the old dream where she was part:<br>Are all smiles ill, all sweetness lies?<br>One blossom once my life-time bore,<br>It wakened at her April beam,<br>Then froze; yet dead 'tis still some prize<br>It shows mine blossoms were of yore.<br>Let be: I need some memories:<br>Leave me my dream.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Augusta+Davies+Webster">Augusta Davies Webster</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=349981" data-title="The Old Dream de Augusta Davies Webster" data-description="NAY, tell me not. I will not know. Because of her my life is bare, A waste where blow-seeds spring and grow Then die because the soil is spent, And leave no token they were there; A soddened mere where marsh-lights gleam, But no star sees the ray ..."></div> </div> </div>

solid border dashed border dotted border double border groove border ridge border inset border outset border no border blue green red purple cyan gold silver black