<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=419548" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>To Anna Three Years Old</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">My Anna, summer laughs in mirth,<br>And we will of the party be,<br>And leave the crickets in the hearth<br>For green fields' merry minstrelsy.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I see thee now with little hand<br>Catch at each object passing bye,<br>The happiest thing in all the land<br>Except the bee and butterfly.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">* * * * *</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And limpid brook that leaps along,<br>Gilt with the summer's burnished gleam,<br>Will stop thy little tale or song<br>To gaze upon its crimping stream.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Thou'lt leave my hand with eager speed<br>The new discovered things to see--<br>The old pond with its water weed<br>And danger-daring willow tree,<br>Who leans an ancient invalid<br>Oer spots where deepest waters be.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">In sudden shout and wild surprise<br>I hear thy simple wonderment,<br>As new things meet thy childish eyes<br>And wake some innocent intent;</div><div style="margin:10px 0">As bird or bee or butterfly<br>Bounds through the crowd of merry leaves<br>And starts the rapture of thine eye<br>To run for what it neer achieves.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">But thou art on the bed of pain,<br>So tells each poor forsaken toy.<br>Ah, could I see that happy hour<br>When these shall be thy heart's employ,<br>And see thee toddle oer the plain,<br>And stoop for flowers, and shout for joy.</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=419548" data-title="To Anna Three Years Old de John Clare" data-description="My Anna, summer laughs in mirth, And we will of the party be, And leave the crickets in the hearth For green fields' merry minstrelsy. I see thee now with little hand Catch at each object passing bye, The happiest thing in all the land Except the..."></div> </div> </div>

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