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=499031" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Ant.</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">I.<br>Forbear, thou great good husband, little ant;<br> A little respite from thy flood of sweat!<br>Thou, thine own horse and cart under this plant,<br> Thy spacious tent, fan thy prodigious heat;<br>Down with thy double load of that one grain!<br>It is a granarie for all thy train.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">  II.<br>Cease, large example of wise thrift, awhile<br> (For thy example is become our law),<br>And teach thy frowns a seasonable smile:<br> So Cato sometimes the nak'd Florals saw.<br>And thou, almighty foe, lay by thy sting,<br>Whilst thy unpay'd musicians, crickets, sing.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">  III.<br>LUCASTA, she that holy makes the day,<br> And 'stills new life in fields of fueillemort,<br>Hath back restor'd their verdure with one ray,<br> And with her eye bid all to play and sport,<br>Ant, to work still! age will thee truant call;<br>And to save now, th'art worse than prodigal.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">  IV.<br>Austere and cynick! not one hour t' allow,<br> To lose with pleasure, what thou gotst with pain;<br>But drive on sacred festivals thy plow,<br> Tearing high-ways with thy ore-charged wain.<br>Not all thy life-time one poor minute live,<br>And thy ore-labour'd bulk with mirth relieve?</div><div style="margin:10px 0">  V.<br>Look up then, miserable ant, and spie<br> Thy fatal foes, for breaking of their law,<br>Hov'ring above thee: Madam MARGARET PIE:<br> And her fierce servant, meagre Sir JOHN DAW:<br>Thy self and storehouse now they do store up,<br>And thy whole harvest too within their crop.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">  VI.<br>Thus we unt[h]rifty thrive within earth's tomb<br> For some more rav'nous and ambitious jaw:<br>The grain in th' ant's, the ant in the pie's womb,<br> The pie in th' hawk's, the hawk ith' eagle's maw.<br>So scattering to hord 'gainst a long day,<br>Thinking to save all, we cast all away.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Richard+Lovelace">Richard Lovelace</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=499031" data-title="The Ant. de Richard Lovelace" data-description="I.
Forbear, thou great good husband, little ant;
 A little respite from thy flood of sweat!
Thou, thine own horse and cart under this plant,
 Thy spacious tent, fan thy prodigious heat;
Down with thy double load of that one grain!
It is a granarie..."></div>
</div>
</div>