<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=518884" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Tyranny.</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Spring-germs, spring-germs,<br>I charge you by your life, go back to death.<br>This glebe is sick, this wind is foul of breath.<br>Stay: feed the worms.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Oh! every clod<br>Is faint, and falters from the war of growth<br>And crumbles in a dreary dust of sloth,<br>Unploughed, untrod.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'What need, what need,<br>To hide with flowers the curse upon the hills,<br>Or sanctify the banks of sluggish rills<br>Where vapors breed?</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'And -- if needs must --<br>Advance, O Summer-heats! upon the land,<br>And bake the bloody mould to shards and sand<br>And dust.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Before your birth,<br>Burn up, O Roses! with your dainty flame.<br>Good Violets, sweet Violets, hide shame<br>Below the earth.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Ye silent Mills,<br>Reject the bitter kindness of the moss.<br>O Farms! protest if any tree emboss<br>The barren hills.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Young Trade is dead,<br>And swart Work sullen sits in the hillside fern<br>And folds his arms that find no bread to earn,<br>And bows his head.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Spring-germs, spring-germs,<br>Albeit the towns have left you place to play,<br>I charge you, sport not. Winter owns to-day,<br>Stay: feed the worms.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Sidney+Lanier">Sidney Lanier</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=518884" data-title="Tyranny. de Sidney Lanier" data-description="'Spring-germs, spring-germs, I charge you by your life, go back to death. This glebe is sick, this wind is foul of breath. Stay: feed the worms. 'Oh! every clod Is faint, and falters from the war of growth And crumbles in a dreary dust of sloth, ..."></div> </div> </div>

solid border dashed border dotted border double border groove border ridge border inset border outset border no border blue green red purple cyan gold silver black