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=426362" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Lady Acheson Weary Of The Dean</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">The Dean would visit Market-hill;<br>Our invitation was but slight;<br>I said—why—Let him if he will,<br>And so I bid Sir Arthur write.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">His manners would not let him wait,<br>Lest we should think ourselves neglected,<br>And so we saw him at our gate<br>Three days before he was expected.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">After a week, a month, a quarter,<br>And day succeeding after day,<br>Says not a word of his departure<br>Though not a soul would have him stay.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I’ve said enough to make him blush<br>Methinks, or else the Devil’s in’t,<br>But he cares not for it a rush,<br>Nor for my life will take the hint.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">But you, My Life, must let him know,<br>In civil language, if he stays<br>How deep and foul the roads may grow,<br>And that he may command the chaise.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Or you may say—my wife intends,<br>Though I should be exceeding proud,<br>This winter to invite some friends,<br>And Sir, I know you hate a crowd.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Or, Mr. Dean—I should with joy<br>Beg you would here continue still,<br>But we must go to Aghnaclay,<br>Or Mr. Moor will take it ill.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The house accounts are daily rising<br>So much his stay does swell the bills;<br>My dearest Life, it is surprising<br>How much he eats, how much he swills.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">His brace of puppies how they stuff,<br>And they must have three meals a day,<br>Yet never think they get enough;<br>His horses too eat all our hay.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Oh! if I could, how I would maul<br>His tallow face and wainscot paws,<br>His beetle-brows and eyes of wall,<br>And make him soon give up the cause.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">May I be every moment chid<br>With Skinny, Honey, Snip, and Lean,<br>Oh! that I could but once be rid<br>Of that insulting tyrant Dean.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Jonathan+Swift">Jonathan Swift</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=426362" data-title="Lady Acheson Weary Of The Dean de Jonathan Swift" data-description="The Dean would visit Market-hill;
Our invitation was but slight;
I said—why—Let him if he will,
And so I bid Sir Arthur write.

His manners would not let him wait,
Lest we should think ourselves neglected,
And so we saw him at our gate
Three d..."></div>
</div>
</div>