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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=355158" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>A Dramatic Fragment</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Fie upon't!<br>All men are false, I think. The date of love<br>Is out, expired, its stories all grown stale,<br>O'erpast, forgotten, like an antique tale<br>Of Hero and Leander.' </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>-John Woodvil</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>All are not false. I knew a youth who died<br>For grief, because his Love proved so,<br>And married with another.<br>I saw him on the wedding-day,-<br>For he was present in the church that day,<br>In festive bravery decked,<br>As one that came to grace the ceremony,-<br>I marked him when the ring was given:<br>His Countenance never changed;<br>And, when the priest pronounced the marriage blessing,<br>He put a silent prayer up for the bride-<br>For so his moving lip interpreted.<br>He came invited to the marriage-feast<br>With the bride's friends,<br>And was the merriest of them all that day:<br>But they who knew him best called it feigned mirth;<br>And others said<br>He wore a smile like death upon his face.<br>His presence dashed all the beholders' mirth,<br>And he went away in tears.<br>What followed then? <br>O then<br>He did not, as neglected suitors use,<br>Affect a life of solitude in shades,<br>But lived<br>In free discourse and sweet society<br>Among his friends who knew his gentle nature best.<br>Yet ever, when he smiled,<br>There was a mystery legible in his face;<br>But whoso saw him, said he was a man<br>Not long for this world-<br>And true it was; for even then<br>The silent love was feeding at his heart,<br>Of which he died;<br>Nor ever spoke word of reproach;<br>Only, he wished in death that his remains<br>Might find a poor grave in some spot not far<br>From his mistress' family vault-being the place<br>Where one day Anna should herself be laid.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Charles+Lamb">Charles Lamb</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=355158" data-title="A Dramatic Fragment de Charles Lamb" data-description="'Fie upon't!
All men are false, I think. The date of love
Is out, expired, its stories all grown stale,
O'erpast, forgotten, like an antique tale
Of Hero and Leander.' 


-John Woodvil


All are not false. I knew a youth who died
For grief, becaus..."></div>
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