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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=426335" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>A Maypole</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=426335" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">Deprived of root, and branch and rind,<br>Yet flowers I bear of every kind:<br>And such is my prolific power,<br>They bloom in less than half an hour;<br>Yet standers-by may plainly see<br>They get no nourishment from me.<br>My head with giddiness goes round,<br>And yet I firmly stand my ground:<br>All over naked I am seen,<br>And painted like an Indian queen.<br>No couple-beggar in the land<br>E'er joined such numbers hand in hand.<br>I joined them fairly with a ring;<br>Nor can our parson blame the thing.<br>And though no marriage words are spoke,<br>They part not till the ring is broke;<br>Yet hypocrite fanatics cry,<br>I'm but an idol raised on high;<br>And once a weaver in our town,<br>A damned Cromwellian, knocked me down.<br>I lay a prisoner twenty years,<br>And then the jovial cavaliers<br>To their old post restored all three - <br>I mean the church, the king, and me.</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=Jonathan+Swift">Jonathan Swift</a></strong></div>

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