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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=454927" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Inscriptions: VII: The Wood Nymph</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Approach in silence. 'tis no vulgar tale<br>Which I, the Dryad of this hoary oak,<br>Pronounce to mortal ears. The second age<br>Now hasteneth to its period, since i rose<br>On this fair lawn. The groves of yonder vale<br>Are, all, my offspring: and each Nymph, who guards<br>The copses and the furrow'd fields beyond,<br>Obeys me. Many changes have i seen<br>In human things, and many awful deeds<br>Of justice, when the ruling hand of Jove<br>Against the tyrants of the land, against<br>The unhallow'd sons of luxury and guile,<br>Was arm'd for retribution. Thus at length<br>Expert in laws divine, i know the paths<br>Of wisdom, and erroneous folly's end<br>Have oft presag'd: and now well-pleas'd i wait<br>Each evening till a noble youth, who loves<br>My shade, awhile releas'd from public cares,<br>Yon peaceful gate shall enter, and sit down<br>Beneath my branches. Then his musing mind<br>I prompt, unseen; and place before his view<br>Sincerest forms of good; and move his heart<br>With the dread bounties of the sire supreme<br>Of gods and men, with freedom's generous deeds,<br>The lofty voice of glory and the faith<br>Of sacred friendship. Stranger, i have told<br>My function. If within thy bosom dwell<br>Aught which may challenge praise, thou wilt not leave<br>Unhonor'd my abode, nor shall i hear<br>A sparing benediction from thy tongue.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Mark+Akenside">Mark Akenside</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=454927" data-title="Inscriptions: VII: The Wood Nymph de Mark Akenside" data-description="Approach in silence. 'tis no vulgar tale
Which I, the Dryad of this hoary oak,
Pronounce to mortal ears. The second age
Now hasteneth to its period, since i rose
On this fair lawn. The groves of yonder vale
Are, all, my offspring: and each Nymph, ..."></div>
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