<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=409758" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Reaper And The Flowers</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">There is a Reaper whose name is Death,<br>And, with his sickle keen,<br>He reaps the bearded grain at a breath,<br>And the flowers that grow between.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">``Shall I have nought that is fair?'' saith he;<br>``Have nought but the bearded grain?<br>Though the breath of these flowers is sweet to me,<br>I will give them all back again.''</div><div style="margin:10px 0">He gazed at the flowers with tearful eyes,<br>He kissed their drooping leaves;<br>It was for the Lord of Paradise<br>He bound them in his sheaves.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">``My Lord has need of these flowerets gay,''<br>The Reaper said, and smiled;<br>``Dear tokens of the earth are they,<br>Where he was once a child.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">``They shall all bloom in fields of light,<br>Transplanted by my care,<br>And saints, upon their garments white,<br>These sacred blossoms wear.''</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And the mother gave, in tears and pain,<br>The flowers she most did love;<br>She knew she should find them all again<br>In the fields of light above.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">O, not in cruelty, not in wrath,<br>The Reaper came that day;<br>'Twas an angel visited the green earth,<br>And took the flowers away.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Henry+Wadsworth+Longfellow">Henry Wadsworth Longfellow</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=409758" data-title="The Reaper And The Flowers de Henry Wadsworth Longfellow" data-description="There is a Reaper whose name is Death, And, with his sickle keen, He reaps the bearded grain at a breath, And the flowers that grow between. ``Shall I have nought that is fair?'' saith he; ``Have nought but the bearded grain? Though the breath of..."></div> </div> </div>

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