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=512568" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Sonnets On Miss Savage</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">i<br>She was too kind, wooed too persistently,<br>Wrote moving letters to me day by day;<br>The more she wrote, the more unmoved was I,<br>The more she gave, the less could I repay.<br>Therefore I grieve, not that I was not loved,<br>But that, being loved, I could not love again.<br>I liked, but like and love are far removed;<br>Hard though I tried to love I tried in vain.<br>For she was plain and lame and fat and short,<br>Forty and over-kind. Hence it befell<br>That though I loved her in a certain sort,<br>Yet did I love too wisely but not well. <br>Ah! had she been more beauteous or less kind <br>She might have found me of another mind. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">ii</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And now, though twenty years are come and gone,<br>That little lame lady's face is with me still;<br>Never a day but what, on every one,<br>She dwells with me, as dwell she ever will.<br>She said she wished I knew not wrong from right;<br>It was not that; I knew, and would have chosen<br>Wrong if I could, but, in my own despite,<br>Power to choose wrong in my chilled veins was frozen.<br>'Tis said that if a woman woo, no man<br>Should leave her till she have prevailed; and, true,<br>A man will yield for pity, if he can,<br>But if the flesh rebels what can he do? <br>I could not. Hence I grieve my whole life long <br>The wrong I did, in that I did no wrong. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">iii</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Had I been some young sailor, continent<br>Perforce three weeks and then well plied with wine,<br>I might in time have tried to yield consent<br>And almost (though I doubt it) made her mine.<br>Or had it been but once and never again,<br>Come what come might, she should have had her way;<br>But yielding once were yielding twice, and then<br>I had been hers for ever and a day.<br>Or had she only been content to crave<br>A marriage of true minds, her wish was granted;<br>My mind was hers, I was her willing slave<br>In all things else except the one she wanted: <br>And here, alas! at any rate to me <br>She was an all too, too impossible she.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Samuel+Butler">Samuel Butler</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=512568" data-title="Sonnets On Miss Savage de Samuel Butler" data-description="i
She was too kind, wooed too persistently,
Wrote moving letters to me day by day;
The more she wrote, the more unmoved was I,
The more she gave, the less could I repay.
Therefore I grieve, not that I was not loved,
But that, being loved, I could ..."></div>
</div>
</div>