<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=419478" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Song #3</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">I peeled bits of straws and I got switches too<br>From the grey peeling willow as idlers do,<br>And I switched at the flies as I sat all alone<br>Till my flesh, blood, and marrow was turned to dry bone.<br>My illness was love, though I knew not the smart,<br>But the beauty of love was the blood of my heart.<br>Crowded places, I shunned them as noises too rude<br>And fled to the silence of sweet solitude.<br>Where the flower in green darkness buds, blossoms, and fades,<br>Unseen of all shepherds and flower-loving maids--<br>The hermit bees find them but once and away.<br>There I'll bury alive and in silence decay.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I looked on the eyes of fair woman too long,<br>Till silence and shame stole the use of my tongue:<br>When I tried to speak to her I'd nothing to say,<br>So I turned myself round and she wandered away.<br>When she got too far off, why, I'd something to tell,<br>So I sent sighs behind her and walked to my cell.<br>Willow switches I broke and peeled bits of straws,<br>Ever lonely in crowds, in Nature's own laws--<br>My ball room the pasture, my music the bees,<br>My drink was the fountain, my church the tall trees.<br>Who ever would love or be tied to a wife<br>When it makes a man mad all the days of his life?</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=419478" data-title="Song #3 de John Clare" data-description="I peeled bits of straws and I got switches too From the grey peeling willow as idlers do, And I switched at the flies as I sat all alone Till my flesh, blood, and marrow was turned to dry bone. My illness was love, though I knew not the smart, But..."></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