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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=116026" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Tryst</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=116026" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">A TRYST had I with the bright sun to keep<br> Upon a little hill-top in the dew;<br>I promised him to wake mine eyes from sleep<br> And see him paint the dappled dawn anew,—<br>To meet him by the rose-bush in the brake,<br>Aye, e'en before the lark should be awake.<br> I gave my promise as the sun sank red,<br> And then I softly stole away to bed.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><a href="http://poems.citatepedia.com/">poem</a> by <strong><a rel="author" href="http://authors.citatepedia.com/by.php?a=Abbie+Farwell+Brown">Abbie Farwell Brown</a></strong> from <em><a href="http://sources.citatepedia.com/from.php?a=Abbie+Farwell+Brown&d=The+New+England+Magazine+%2F+Volume+24%2C+Issue+5">The New England Magazine / Volume 24, Issue 5</a></em></div>

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