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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=37542" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Morning-Glories</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Oh, dainty daughters of the dawn, most delicate of flowers,<br>How fitly do ye come to deck day's most delicious hours!<br>Evoked by morning's earliest breath, your fragile cups unfold<br>Before the light has cleft the sky, or edged the world with gold.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Before luxurious butterflies and moths are yet astir,<br>Before the careless has snapped the leaf-hung gossamer,<br>While spearèd dewdrops, yet unquaffed by thirsty insect-thieves,<br>Broider with rows of diamonds the edges of the leaves.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Ye drink from day's o'erflowing brim, nor ever dream of noon,<br>With bashful nod ye greet the sun, whose flattery scorches soon,<br>Your trumpets trembling to the touch of humming-bird and bee,<br>In tender trepidation sweet, and fair timidity.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">No flower in all the garden hath so wide a choice of hue, -<br>The deepest purple dies are yours, the tenderest tints of blue;<br>While some are colourless as light, some flushed incarnadine,<br>And some are clouded crimson, like a goblet stained with wine.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Ye hold not in your calm, cool hearts the passion of the rose,<br>Ye do not own the haughty pride the regal lily knows;<br>But ah, what blossom has the charm, the purity of this,<br>Which shrinks before the tenderest love, and dies beneath a kiss?</div><div style="margin:10px 0">In this wide garden of the world, where he is wise who knows<br>The bramble from the sweet-brier, the nettle from the rose,<br>Some lives there are which seem like these, as sensitive and fair,<br>As far from thought of sin or shame, as free from stain of care.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">We find sometimes these splendid souls, when all our world is young.<br>Where life is crisp with freshness, with unshaken dew-drops hung.<br>They blossom in the cool, dim hours, ere sunshine dries the air,<br>But cease and vanish long before the noonday's heat and glare.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And if in manhood's dusty time, fatigued with toil and glow,<br>We crave the fresh young morning-heart which charmed us long ago,<br>We seek in vain the olden ways, the shadows moist and fair:<br>The heart-shaped leaves may linger, but the blossom is not there.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The fairest are most fragile still, the world of being through,<br>The finest spirits, faint before they lose life's morning dew.<br>The trials and the toils of time touch not their tender truth,<br>For, ere earth's stain can cloud them, they achieve immortal youth.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Elizabeth+Chase+Allen">Elizabeth Chase Allen</a> from <i>Littell's Living Age, vol. 129</i><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=37542" data-title="Morning-Glories de Elizabeth Chase Allen" data-description="Oh, dainty daughters of the dawn, most delicate of flowers,/How fitly do ye come to deck day's most delicious hours!/Evoked by morning's earliest breath, your fragile cups unfold/Before the light has cleft the sky, or edged the world with gold./Be..."></div>
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