<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=415784" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>To K.M.D.</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">In the buds, before they burst,<br>Leaves and flowers are moulded;<br>Closely pressed they lie at first,<br>Exquisitely folded.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Though no hope of change they felt,<br>Folded hard together,<br>Soon their sap begins to melt<br>In the warmer weather.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Till, when Life returns with Spring,<br>Through them softly stealing,<br>All their freshness forth they fling,<br>Hidden forms revealing. [606]</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Who can fold those flowers again,<br>In the way he found them?<br>Or those spreading leaves restrain,<br>In the buds that bound them?</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Trust me, Spring is very near,<br>All the buds are swelling;<br>All the glory of the year<br>In those buds is dwelling.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">What the opened buds reveal<br>Tells us—Life is flowing;<br>What the buds, still shut, conceal,<br>We shall end in knowing.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Long I lingered in the bud<br>Doubting of the season,<br>Winter's cold had chilled my blood-—<br>I was ripe for treason.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Now no more I doubt or wait,<br>All my fears are vanished,<br>Summer’s coming, dear, though late,<br>Fogs and frosts are banished.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=James+Clerk+Maxwell">James Clerk Maxwell</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=415784" data-title="To K.M.D. de James Clerk Maxwell" data-description="In the buds, before they burst, Leaves and flowers are moulded; Closely pressed they lie at first, Exquisitely folded. Though no hope of change they felt, Folded hard together, Soon their sap begins to melt In the warmer weather. Till, when Life..."></div> </div> </div>

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