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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=538606" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>On Leaving A Place Of Residence</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">If I could bid thee, pleasant shade, farewell<br>Without a sigh, amidst whose circling bowers<br>My stripling prime was passed, and happiest hours,<br>Dead were I to the sympathies that swell<br>The human breast! These woods, that whispering wave,<br>My father reared and nursed, now to the grave<br>Gone down; he loved their peaceful shades, and said,<br>Perhaps, as here he mused: Live, laurels green;<br>Ye pines that shade the solitary scene,<br>Live blooming and rejoice! When I am dead <br>My son shall guard you, and amid your bowers,<br>Like me, find shelter from life's beating showers.<br>These thoughts, my father, every spot endear;<br>And whilst I think, with self-accusing pain,<br>A stranger shall possess the loved domain,<br>In each low wind I seem thy voice to hear.<br>But these are shadows of the shaping brain<br>That now my heart, alas! can ill sustain:<br>We must forget--the world is wide--the abode<br>Of peace may still be found, nor hard the road. <br>It boots not, so, to every chance resigned,<br>Where'er the spot, we bear the unaltered mind.<br>Yet, oh! poor cottage, and thou sylvan shade,<br>Remember, ere I left your coverts green,<br>Where in my youth I mused, in childhood played,<br>I gazed, I paused, I dropped a tear unseen,<br>That bitter from the font of memory fell,<br>Thinking on him who reared you; now, farewell!</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=William+Lisle+Bowles">William Lisle Bowles</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=538606" data-title="On Leaving A Place Of Residence de William Lisle Bowles" data-description="If I could bid thee, pleasant shade, farewell
Without a sigh, amidst whose circling bowers
My stripling prime was passed, and happiest hours,
Dead were I to the sympathies that swell
The human breast! These woods, that whispering wave,
My father r..."></div>
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