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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=540206" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Tis Said, That Some Have Died For Love</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Tis said, that some have died for love: <br>And here and there a churchyard grave is found <br>In the cold north's unhallowed ground, <br>Because the wretched man himself had slain, <br>His love was such a grievous pain. <br>And there is one whom I five years have known; <br>He dwells alone <br>Upon Helvellyn's side: <br>He loved--the pretty Barbara died; <br>And thus he makes his moan: <br>Three years had Barbara in her grave been laid <br>When thus his moan he made: </div><div style="margin:10px 0">&quot;Oh, move, thou Cottage, from behind that oak! <br>Or let the aged tree uprooted lie, <br>That in some other way yon smoke <br>May mount into the sky! <br>The clouds pass on; they from the heavens depart. <br>I look--the sky is empty space; <br>I know not what I trace; <br>But when I cease to look, my hand is on my heart. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">&quot;Oh! what a weight is in these shades! Ye leaves, <br>That murmur once so dear, when will it cease? <br>Your sound my heart of rest bereaves, <br>It robs my heart of peace. <br>Thou Thrush, that singest loud--and loud and free, <br>Into yon row of willows flit, <br>Upon that alder sit; <br>Or sing another song, or choose another tree. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">&quot;Roll back, sweet Rill! back to thy mountain-bounds, <br>And there for ever be thy waters chained! <br>For thou dost haunt the air with sounds <br>That cannot be sustained; <br>If still beneath that pine-tree's ragged bough <br>Headlong yon waterfall must come, <br>Oh let it then be dumb! <br>Be anything, sweet Rill, but that which thou art now. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">&quot;Thou Eglantine, so bright with sunny showers, <br>Proud as a rainbow spanning half the vale, <br>Thou one fair shrub, oh! shed thy flowers, <br>And stir not in the gale. <br>For thus to see thee nodding in the air, <br>To see thy arch thus stretch and bend, <br>Thus rise and thus descend,-- <br>Disturbs me till the sight is more than I can dear.&quot; </div><div style="margin:10px 0">The Man who makes this feverish complaint <br>Is one of giant stature, who could dance <br>Equipped from head to foot in iron mail. <br>Ah gentle Love! if ever thought was thine <br>To store up kindred hours for me, thy face <br>Turn from me, gentle Love! nor let me walk <br>Within the sound of Emma's voice, nor know <br>Such happiness as I have known to-day.</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=540206" data-title="Tis Said, That Some Have Died For Love de William Wordsworth" data-description="'Tis said, that some have died for love: 
And here and there a churchyard grave is found 
In the cold north's unhallowed ground, 
Because the wretched man himself had slain, 
His love was such a grievous pain. 
And there is one whom I five years h..."></div>
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