<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=416219" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Garden</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">This Garden does not take my eyes, <br>Though here you show how art of men <br>Can purchase Nature at a price <br>Would stock old Paradise again. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">These glories while you dote upon, <br>I envy not your spring nor pride, <br>Nay, boast the summer all your own, <br>My thoughts with less are satisified. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Give me a little plot of ground, <br>Where might I with the Sun agree, <br>Though every day he walk the round, <br>My Garden he should seldom see. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Those Tulips that such wealth display, <br>To court my eye, shall lose their name, <br>Though now they listen, as if they <br>Expected I should praise their name. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">But I would see my self appear <br>Within the Violet's drooping head, <br>On which a melancholy tear <br>The discontented morn hath shed. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Within their buds let Roses sleep, <br>And virgin Lilies on their stem, <br>Till sighs from lovers glide, and creep <br>Into their leaves to open them. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">I'th'center of my ground compose <br>Of Bays and Yew my summer room, <br>Which may so oft as I repose, <br>Present my arbor, and my tomb. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">No woman here shall find me out, <br>Or if a chance do bring one hither, <br>I'll be secure, for round about <br>I'll moat it with my eyes' foul weather. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">No bird shall live within my pale, <br>To charm me with their shames of art, <br>Unless some wandering Nightingale <br>Come here to sing and break her heart. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Upon whose death I'll try to write <br>An epitaph in some funeral stone, <br>So sad, and true, it may invite <br>My self to die, and prove mine own.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=James+Shirley">James Shirley</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=416219" data-title="The Garden de James Shirley" data-description="This Garden does not take my eyes, Though here you show how art of men Can purchase Nature at a price Would stock old Paradise again. These glories while you dote upon, I envy not your spring nor pride, Nay, boast the summer all your own, ..."></div> </div> </div>

solid border dashed border dotted border double border groove border ridge border inset border outset border no border blue green red purple cyan gold silver black