<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=374026" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Faute De Mieux</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">WHEN the corn is green and the poppies red <br>And the fields are crimson with love-lies-bleeding, <br>When the elms are black deep overhead <br>And the shade lies cool where the calves are feeding, <br>When the blackbird whistles the song of June, <br>When kine knee-deep in the pond are drowsing, <br>Leave pastoral peace--come up through the noon <br>To the high chalk downs where the sheep are browsing. </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>Oh! sweet to dream in the noontide heat, <br>On the scented bed of thyme and clover, <br>With the air from the sea, blown keen and sweet, <br>And the wings of the wide sky folded over, <br>While, far in the blue, the skylark sings, <br>Renounce desire and renounce endeavour, <br>Forget life's little unworthy things <br>And dream that the dream will last for ever. </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>The love of your life, in your heart's hid shrine, <br>With its gifts and its torments, leave it sighing, <br>And I will bury the pain of mine <br>In the selfsame grave where its joy is lying. <br>Let me hold your hand for a quiet hour <br>In the wild thyme's scent and the clear blue weather, <br>Then come what may, we have plucked one flower, <br>This hour on the downs alone together.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Edith+Nesbit">Edith Nesbit</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=374026" data-title="Faute De Mieux de Edith Nesbit" data-description="WHEN the corn is green and the poppies red And the fields are crimson with love-lies-bleeding, When the elms are black deep overhead And the shade lies cool where the calves are feeding, When the blackbird whistles the song of June, When kine..."></div> </div> </div>

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