<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=448018" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Herbs</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">A serviceable thing<br>Is fennel, mint, or balm,<br>Kept in the thrifty calm<br>Of hollows, in the spring;<br>Or by old houses pent.<br>Dear is its ancient scent<br>To folk that love the days forgot,<br>Nor think that God is not.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Sage, lavender, and rue,<br>For body’s hurt and ill,<br>For fever and for chill;<br>Rosemary, strange with dew,<br>For sorrow and its smart,<br>For breaking of the heart.<br>Yet pain, dearth, tears, all come to dust,<br>As even the herbs must.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Life-everlasting, too,<br>Windless, poignant, and sere,<br>That blows in the old year,<br>Townsmen, for me and you.<br>Why fret for wafting airs?<br>Why haste to sell our wares?<br>Captains and clerks, this shall befall;<br>This is the end of all.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Oh, this the end indeed!<br>Oh, unforgotten things,</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Gone out of all the springs;<br>The quest, the dream, the creed!<br>Gone out of all the lands,<br>And yet safe in God’s hands; —<br>For shall the dull herbs live again,<br>And not the sons of men?</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Lizette+Woodworth+Reese">Lizette Woodworth Reese</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=448018" data-title="Herbs de Lizette Woodworth Reese" data-description="A serviceable thing Is fennel, mint, or balm, Kept in the thrifty calm Of hollows, in the spring; Or by old houses pent. Dear is its ancient scent To folk that love the days forgot, Nor think that God is not. Sage, lavender, and rue, For body’s..."></div> </div> </div>

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