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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=409131" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Why Silent?</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=409131" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">Why am I silent from year to year?<br>Needs must I sing on these blue March days?<br>What will you say, when I tell you here,<br>That already, I think, for a little praise,<br> I have paid too dear?</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=409131" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">For, I know not why, when I tell my thought,<br>It seems as though I fling it away;<br>And the charm wherewith a fancy is fraught,<br>When secret, dies with the fleeting lay<br> Into which it is wrought.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=409131" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">So my butterfly-dreams their golden wings<br>But seldom unfurl from their chrysalis;<br>And thus I retain my loveliest things,<br>While the world, in its worldliness, does not miss<br> What a poet sings.</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=Henry+Timrod">Henry Timrod</a></strong></div>

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