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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=419447" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Insects</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">These tiny loiterers on the barley's beard,<br>And happy units of a numerous herd<br>Of playfellows, the laughing Summer brings,<br>Mocking the sunshine on their glittering wings,<br>How merrily they creep, and run, and fly!<br>No kin they bear to labour's drudgery,<br>Smoothing the velvet of the pale hedge-rose;<br>And where they fly for dinner no one knows -<br>The dew-drops feed them not - they love the shine<br>Of noon, whose suns may bring them golden wine<br>All day they're playing in their Sunday dress -<br>When night reposes, for they can do no less;<br>Then, to the heath-bell's purple hood they fly,<br>And like to princes in their slumbers lie,<br>Secure from rain, and dropping dews, and all,<br>In silken beds and roomy painted hall.<br>So merrily they spend their summer-day,<br>Now in the corn-fields, now in the new-mown hay.<br>One almost fancies that such happy things,<br>With coloured hoods and richly burnished wings,<br>Are fairy folk, in splendid masquerade<br>Disguised, as if of mortal folk afraid,<br>Keeping their joyous pranks a mystery still,<br>Lest glaring day should do their secrets ill.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=John+Clare">John Clare</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=419447" data-title="Insects de John Clare" data-description="These tiny loiterers on the barley's beard, And happy units of a numerous herd Of playfellows, the laughing Summer brings, Mocking the sunshine on their glittering wings, How merrily they creep, and run, and fly! No kin they bear to labour's drudg..."></div> </div> </div>
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