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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=116384" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>St. Martin's Summer</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">This name in some parts of Europe is given to the season we call Indian Summer, in honor of the good St. Martin. The title of the poem was suggested by the fact that the day it refers to was the exact date of that set apart to the Saint, the 11th of November.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Though flowers have perished at the touch<br>Of Frost, the early comer,<br>I hail the season loved so much,<br>The good St. Martin's summer.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">O gracious morn, with rose-red dawn,<br>And thin moon curving o'er it!<br>The old year's darling, latest born,<br>More loved than all before it!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">How flamed the sunrise through the pines!<br>How stretched the birchen shadows,<br>Braiding in long, wind-wavered lines<br>The westward sloping meadows!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The sweet day, opening as a flower<br>Unfolds its petals tender,<br>Renews for us at noontide's hour<br>The summer's tempered splendor.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The birds are hushed; alone the wind,<br>That through the woodland searches,<br>The red-oak's lingering leaves can find,<br>And yellow plumes of larches.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">But still the balsam-breathing pine<br>Invites no thought of sorrow,<br>No hint of loss from air like wine<br>The earth's content can borrow.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The summer and the winter here<br>Midway a truce are holding,<br>A soft, consenting atmosphere<br>Their tents of peace enfolding.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The silent woods, the lonely hills,<br>Rise solemn in their gladness;<br>The quiet that the valley fills<br>Is scarcely joy or sadness.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">How strange! The autumn yesterday<br>In winter's grasp seemed dying;<br>On whirling winds from skies of gray<br>The early snow was flying.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And now, while over Nature's mood<br>There steals a soft relenting,<br>I will not mar the present good,<br>Forecasting or lamenting.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">My autumn time and Nature's hold<br>A dreamy tryst together,<br>And, both grown old, about us fold<br>The golden-tissued weather.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I lean my heart against the day<br>To feel its bland caressing;<br>I will not let it pass away<br>Before it leaves its blessing.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">God's angels come not as of old<br>The Syrian shepherds knew them;<br>In reddening dawns, in sunset gold,<br>And warm noon lights I view them.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Nor need there is, in times like this<br>When heaven to earth draws nearer,<br>Of wing or song as witnesses<br>To make their presence clearer.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">O stream of life, whose swifter flow<br>Is of the end forewarning,<br>Methinks thy sundown afterglow<br>Seems less of night than morning!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Old cares grow light; aside I lay<br>The doubts and fears that troubled;<br>The quiet of the happy day<br>Within my soul is doubled.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">That clouds must veil this fair sunshine<br>Not less a joy I find it;<br>Nor less yon warm horizon line<br>That winter lurks behind it.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The mystery of the untried days<br>I close my eyes from reading;<br>His will be done whose darkest ways<br>To light and life are leading!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Less drear the winter night shall be,<br>If memory cheer and hearten<br>Its heavy hours with thoughts of thee,<br>Sweet summer of St. Martin!</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Robert+Browning">Robert Browning</a> from <i>Pacchiarotto</i><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=116384" data-title="St. Martin's Summer de Robert Browning" data-description="This name in some parts of Europe is given to the season we call Indian Summer, in honor of the good St. Martin. The title of the poem was suggested by the fact that the day it refers to was the exact date of that set apart to the Saint, the 11th ..."></div>
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