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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=530154" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>On Happiness In This Life</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">The morning opens very freshly gay<br>And life itself is in the month of May. <br>With green my fancy paints an arbour o'er<br>And flowrets with a thousand colours more;<br>Then falls to weaving that, and spreading these<br>And softly shakes them with an easy breeze,<br>With golden fruit adorns the bending shade,<br>Or trails a silver water o'er its bed.<br>Glide, gentle water, still more gently by<br>While in this summer-bower of bliss I lye<br>And sweetly sing of sense delighting flames,<br>And nymphs and shepherds soft invented names,<br>Or view the branches which around me twine<br>And praise their fruit, diffusing sprightly wine,<br>Or find new pleasures in the world to praise<br>And still with this return adorn my lays;<br>'Range round your gardens of eternal spring,<br>'Go range my senses while I sweetly sing.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">In vain, in vain alas, seduc'd by ill<br>And acted wildly by the force of will!<br>I tell my soul it will be constant May,<br>And Charm a season never made to stay,<br>My beauteous arbour will not stand a storm,<br>The world but promises, and can't perform:<br>Then fade ye leaves and wither all ye flow'rs,<br>I'll doat no longer in enchanted bow'rs;<br>But sadly mourn in melancholy song,<br>The vain conceits that held my soul so long.<br>The lusts that tempt us with delusive show,<br>And sin brought forth for everlasting woe.<br>Thus shall the notes to sorrow's object rise,<br>While frequent rests procure a place for sighs;<br>And as I moan upon the naked plain,<br>Be this the burthen closing ev'ry strain;<br>Return my senses, range no more abroad,<br>He'll only find his bliss, who seeks for God.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Thomas+Parnell">Thomas Parnell</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=530154" data-title="On Happiness In This Life de Thomas Parnell" data-description="The morning opens very freshly gay
And life itself is in the month of May. 
With green my fancy paints an arbour o'er
And flowrets with a thousand colours more;
Then falls to weaving that, and spreading these
And softly shakes them with an easy br..."></div>
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