<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=37354" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Blossom</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">LITTLE think'st thou, poor flower,<br> Whom I've watch'd six or seven days,<br>And seen thy birth, and seen what every hour<br>Gave to thy growth, thee to this height to raise,<br>And now dost laugh and triumph on this bough,<br> Little think'st thou,<br>That it will freeze anon, and that I shall<br>To-morrow find thee fallen, or not at all.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> Little think'st thou, poor heart,<br> That labourest yet to nestle thee,<br>And think'st by hovering here to get a part<br>In a forbidden or forbidding tree,<br>And hopest her stiffness by long siege to bow,<br> Little think'st thou<br>That thou to-morrow, ere the sun doth wake,<br>Must with the sun and me a journey take.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> But thou, which lovest to be<br> Subtle to plague thyself, wilt say,<br>Alas! if you must go, what's that to me?<br>Here lies my business, and here I will stay<br>You go to friends, whose love and means present<br> Various content<br>To your eyes, ears, and taste, and every part;<br>If then your body go, what need your heart?</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> Well then, stay here; but know,<br> When thou hast stay'd and done thy most,<br>A naked thinking heart, that makes no show,<br>Is to a woman but a kind of ghost.<br>How shall she know my heart; or having none,<br> Know thee for one?<br>Practice may make her know some other part;<br>But take my word, she doth not know a heart.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> Meet me in London, then,<br> Twenty days hence, and thou shalt see<br>Me fresher and more fat, by being with men,<br>Than if I had stay'd still with her and thee.<br>For God's sake, if you can, be you so too;<br> I will give you<br>There to another friend, whom we shall find<br>As glad to have my body as my mind.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=John+Donne">John Donne</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=37354" data-title="The Blossom de John Donne" data-description="LITTLE think'st thou, poor flower,/ Whom I've watch'd six or seven days,/And seen thy birth, and seen what every hour/Gave to thy growth, thee to this height to raise,/And now dost laugh and triumph on this bough,/ Little think'st thou,/That it w..."></div> </div> </div>

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