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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=447580" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Love Nursed By Solitude. By W. I. Thomson, Edinburgh</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">AY, surely it is here that Love should come,<br>And find, (if he may find on earth), a home;<br>Here cast off all the sorrow and the shame<br>That cling like shadows to his very name.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Young Love, thou art belied: they speak of thee,<br>And couple with thy mention misery;<br>Talk of the broken heart, the wasted bloom,<br>The spirit blighted, and the early tomb;<br>As if these waited on thy golden lot,--<br>They blame thee for the faults which thou hast not.<br>Art thou to blame for that they bring on thee<br>The soil and weight of their mortality?<br>How can they hope that ever links will hold<br>Form'd, as they form them now, of the harsh gold?<br>Or worse than even this, how can they think<br>That vanity will bind the failing link?<br>How can they dream that thy sweet life will bear<br>Crowds', palaces', and cities' heartless air?<br>Where the lip smiles while the heart's desolate, <br>And courtesy lends its deep mask to hate;<br>Where looks and thoughts alike must feel the chain,<br>And nought of life is real but its pain;<br>Where the young spirit's high imaginings<br>Are scorn'd and cast away as idle things;<br>Where, think or feel, you are foredoom'd to be<br>A marvel and a sign for mockery;<br>Where none must wander from the beaten road,--<br>All alike champ the bit, and feel the goad.<br>It is not made for thee, young Love! away<br>To where the green earth laughs to the clear day,<br>To the deep valley, where a thousand trees<br>Keep a green court for fairy revelries,--<br>To some small island on a lonely lake,<br>Where only swans the diamond waters break,<br>Where the pines hang in silence oe'r the tide<br>And the stream gushes from the mountain side;<br>These, Love, are haunts for thee; where canst thou brood<br>With thy sweet wings furl'd but in Solitude.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Letitia+Elizabeth+Landon">Letitia Elizabeth Landon</a><div class=q>
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<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=447580" data-title="Love Nursed By Solitude. By W. I. Thomson, Edinburgh de Letitia Elizabeth Landon" data-description="AY, surely it is here that Love should come,
And find, (if he may find on earth), a home;
Here cast off all the sorrow and the shame
That cling like shadows to his very name.

Young Love, thou art belied: they speak of thee,
And couple with thy me..."></div>
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