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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=539930" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Beggars</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">She had a tall man's height or more;<br>Her face from summer's noontide heat<br>No bonnet shaded, but she wore<br>A mantle, to her very feet<br>Descending with a graceful flow,<br>And on her head a cap as white as new-fallen snow.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Her skin was of Egyptian brown:<br>Haughty, as if her eye had seen<br>Its own light to a distance thrown,<br>She towered, fit person for a Queen <br>To lead those ancient Amazonian files;<br>Or ruling Bandit's wife among the Grecian isles.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Advancing, forth she stretched her hand<br>And begged an alms with doleful plea<br>That ceased not; on our English land<br>Such woes, I knew, could never be;<br>And yet a boon I gave her, for the creature<br>Was beautiful to see-a weed of glorious feature.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I left her, and pursued my way;<br>And soon before me did espy <br>A pair of little Boys at play,<br>Chasing a crimson butterfly;<br>The taller followed with his hat in hand,<br>Wreathed round with yellow flowers the gayest of the land.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The other wore a rimless crown<br>With leaves of laurel stuck about;<br>And, while both followed up and down,<br>Each whooping with a merry shout,<br>In their fraternal features I could trace<br>Unquestionable lines of that wild Suppliant's face. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Yet 'they', so blithe of heart, seemed fit<br>For finest tasks of earth or air:<br>Wings let them have, and they might flit<br>Precursors to Aurora's car,<br>Scattering fresh flowers; though happier far, I ween,<br>To hunt their fluttering game o'er rock and level green.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">They dart across my path-but lo,<br>Each ready with a plaintive whine!<br>Said I, 'not half an hour ago<br>Your Mother has had alms of mine.' <br>'That cannot be,' one answered-'she is dead:'-<br>I looked reproof-they saw-but neither hung his head.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'She has been dead, Sir, many a day.'-<br>'Hush, boys! you're telling me a lie;<br>It was your Mother, as I say!'<br>And, in the twinkling of an eye,<br>'Come! Come!' cried one, and without more ado,<br>Off to some other play the joyous Vagrants flew!</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=William+Wordsworth">William Wordsworth</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=539930" data-title="Beggars de William Wordsworth" data-description="She had a tall man's height or more;
Her face from summer's noontide heat
No bonnet shaded, but she wore
A mantle, to her very feet
Descending with a graceful flow,
And on her head a cap as white as new-fallen snow.

Her skin was of Egyptian brown..."></div>
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