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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=498161" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>An Ode</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">As it fell upon a day<br> In the merry month of May,<br> Sitting in a pleasant shade<br> Which a grove of myrtles made,<br> Beasts did leap and birds did sing,<br> Trees did grow and plants did spring;<br> Every thing did banish moan,<br> Save the nightingale alone.<br> She, poor bird, as all forlorn,<br> Lean'd her breast up-till a thorn<br> And there sung the doleful'st ditty,<br> That to hear it was great pity.<br> Fie, fie, fie, now would she cry,<br> Teru, teru, by and by;<br> That to hear her so complain,<br> Scarce I could from tears refrain;<br> For her griefs so lively shown<br> Made me think upon mine own.<br> Ah, thought I, thou mourn'st in vain;<br> None takes pity on thy pain;<br> Senseless trees, they cannot hear thee;<br> Ruthless bears, they will not cheer thee;<br> King Pandion, he is dead,<br> All thy friends are lapp'd in lead;<br> All thy fellow birds do sing,<br> Careless of thy sorrowing;<br> Whilst as fickle fortune smil'd,<br> Thou and I were both beguil'd.<br> Every one that flatters thee<br> Is no friend in misery:<br> Words are easy, like the wind,<br> Faithful friends are hard to find;<br> Every man will be thy friend<br> Whilst thou hast wherewith to spend,<br> But if store of crowns be scant,<br> No man will supply thy want.<br> If that one be prodigal,<br> Bountiful they will him call;<br> And with such-like flattering<br> Pity but he were a king.<br> If he be addict to vice,<br> Quickly him they will entice;<br> If to women he be bent,<br> They have at commandëment;<br> But if fortune once do frown,<br> Then farewell his great renown;<br> They that fawn'd on him before<br> Use his company no more.<br> He that is thy friend indeed<br> He will help thee in thy need:<br> If thou sorrow, he will weep;<br> If thou wake, he cannot sleep;<br> Thus of every grief, in heart,<br> He with thee doth bear a part.<br> These are certain signs to know<br> Faithful friend from flatt'ring foe.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Richard+Barnfield">Richard Barnfield</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=498161" data-title="An Ode de Richard Barnfield" data-description="As it fell upon a day
 In the merry month of May,
 Sitting in a pleasant shade
 Which a grove of myrtles made,
 Beasts did leap and birds did sing,
 Trees did grow and plants did spring;
 Every thing did banish moan,
 Save the nightingale alone.
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