Click in the field, then press CTRL+C to copy the HTML code
<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=419579" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Eclogue</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">JANE SNEED BEGAN IT: My poor John, alas, <br>Ten years ago, pretty it was in a ring <br>To run as boys and girls do in the grass— <br>At that time leap and hollo and skip and sing <br>Came easily to pass. </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>JOHN BLACK SAID: I’ll interpret what you mean. <br>Our infant selves played happily with our others, <br>The cunning me and mine came not between <br>Which like a sword is, O sweethearts and brothers <br>Numberless, who have seen. </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>JANE SNEED: I tell you what I used to do. <br>For joy I used to run by river or wood <br>To see with what speed all came trooping too; <br>Those days I could not quit you if I would, <br>Nor yet quit me could you. </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>JOHN BLACK RETURNED: But now, Jane, it appears <br>We are sly travelers, keeping good lookout <br>Against the face whose ravage cries for tears; <br>Old friends, ill met; and supposing I call out, <br>“Draw nigh, friend of those years”— </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>Before he think of any reason why, <br>The features of that man resolve and burn <br>For one long look—but then the flame must die. <br>The cold hearts in us mortally return, <br>We must not fructify. </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>JANE SNEED SAID BITTERLY: Why, John, you are right. <br>We were spendthrifts of joy when we were young, <br>But we became usurious, and in fright <br>Conceived that such a waste of days was wrong <br>For marchers unto night. </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>JOHN BLACK SAID: Yes, exactly, that was when <br>It happened. For Time involved us: in his toils <br>We learned to fear. And every day since then <br>We are mortals teasing for immortal spoils, <br>Desperate women and men. </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>JANE SNEED CONSENTED: It was nothing but this. <br>Love suffereth long, is kind—but not in fear. <br>For boys run banded, and simple sweethearts kiss, <br>Till in one day the dream of Death appear— <br>Then metamorphosis. </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>JOHN BLACK SAID: To explain mistrust and wars, <br>Theogony has a black witch with hell’s broth; <br>Or a preposterous marriage of fleshless stars; <br>Or the Fiend’s own naked person; or God wroth <br>Fingering his red scars. </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>And philosophy, an art of equal worth, <br>Tells of a flaw in the firmament—spots in the sun— <br>A Third Day’s error when the upheaving earth <br>Was young and prime—a Fate reposed upon <br>The born before their birth. </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>JANE SNEED WITH GRIM LIPS MOCKED HIM: Who can tell— <br>Not I, not you—about those mysteries! <br>Something, John Black, came flapping out of hell <br>And wrought between us, and the chasm is <br>Digged, and it digged it well. </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>JOHN BLACK IN DEPRECATION SAID: Be sure <br>That love has suffered a most fatal eclipse; <br>All brotherhoods, filialities insecure; <br>Lovers compounding honey on their lips <br>With deep doubts to endure. </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>JANE SNEED SIGHED SLOWLY: I suppose it stands <br>Just so. Yet I can picture happiness— <br>Perhaps there wander lovers in some lands <br>Who when Night comes, when it is fathomless, <br>Consort their little hands; </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>And well, John Black, the darkened lovers may, <br>The hands hold much of heat in little storage, <br>The eyes are almost torches good as day, <br>And one flame to the other flame cries Courage, <br>When heart to heart slide they; </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>JOHN BLACK’S THE LAST SAY THEN: O innocent dove, <br>This is a dream. We lovers mournfully <br>Exchange our bleak despairs. We are one part love <br>And nine parts bitter thought. As well might be <br>Beneath ground as above.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=John+Crowe+Ransom">John Crowe Ransom</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=419579" data-title="Eclogue de John Crowe Ransom" data-description="JANE SNEED BEGAN IT: My poor John, alas, 
Ten years ago, pretty it was in a ring 
To run as boys and girls do in the grass— 
At that time leap and hollo and skip and sing 
Came easily to pass. 


JOHN BLACK SAID: I’ll interpret what you mean. ..."></div>
</div>
</div>