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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=118111" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>An Evening Walk in Spring</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">IT was but some few nights ago<br> I wandered down this quiet lane;<br>I pray that I may never know<br> The feelings then I felt, again.<br>The leaves were shining all about,<br> You might almost have seen them springing;<br>I heard the cuckoo’s simple shout,<br> And all the little birds were singing.<br>It was not dull, the air was clear,<br> All lovely sights and sounds to deal,<br>My eyes could see, my ears could hear,<br> Only my heart, it would not feel;<br>And yet that it should not be so,<br> My mind kept telling me within;<br>Though nought was wrong that I did know,<br> I thought I must have done some sin.<br>For I am sure as I can be,<br> That they who have been wont to look<br>On all in Nature’s face they see,<br> Even as in the Holy Book;<br>They who with pure and humble eyes<br> Have gazed and read her lessons high,<br>And taught their spirits to be wise<br> In love and human sympathy,—<br>That they can soon and surely tell<br> When aught has gone amiss within,<br>When the mind is not sound and well,<br> Nor the soul free from taint of sin.<br>For as God’s Spirit from above,<br> So Beauty is to them below,<br>And when they slight that holy love,<br> Their hearts that presence may not know.<br>So I turned home the way I came,<br> With downcast looks and heavy heart,<br>A guilty thing and full of shame,<br> With a dull grief that had no smart.<br>It chanced when I was nearly there<br> That all at once I raised my eyes—<br>Was it a dream, or vision rare,<br> That then they saw before them rise?<br>I see it now, before me here,<br> As often, often I have done,<br>As bright as it could then appear,<br> All shining in the setting sun.<br>Elms, with their mantling foliage spread,<br> And tall dark poplars rising out,<br>And blossomed orchards, white and red,<br> Cast, like a long low fence, about;<br>And in the midst the grey church-tower,<br> With one slight turret at its side,<br>Bringing to mind with silent power<br> Those thousand homes the elm-trees hide.<br>And then there came the thought of one<br> Who on his bed of sickness lay,<br>Whilst I beneath the setting sun<br> Was dreaming this sweet hour away.<br>I thought of hearts for him that beat,<br> Of aching eyes their watch that kept;<br>The sister’s and the mother’s seat—<br> And oh! I thought I should have wept.<br>And oh, my spirit melted then,<br> The weight fell off me that I bore,<br>And now I felt in truth again<br> The lovely things that stood before.<br>O blessed, blessed scene, to thee,<br> For that thy sweet and softening power,<br>I could have fallen upon my knee,<br> Thy stately elms, thy grey church-tower.<br>So then I took my homeward way,<br> My heart in sweet and holy frame,<br>With spirit, I may dare to say,<br> More good and soft than when I came.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Arthur+Hugh+Clough">Arthur Hugh Clough</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=118111" data-title="An Evening Walk in Spring de Arthur Hugh Clough" data-description="IT was but some few nights ago/ I wandered down this quiet lane;/I pray that I may never know/ The feelings then I felt, again./The leaves were shining all about,/ You might almost have seen them springing;/I heard the cuckoo’s simple shout,/ An..."></div>
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