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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=341813" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Moving Through The Dew</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">I<br>Moving through the dew, moving through the dew, <br>Ere I waken in the city—Life, thy dawn makes all things new! <br>And up a fir-clad glen, far from all the haunts of men, <br>Up a glen among the mountains, oh my feet are wings again! </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>Moving through the dew, moving through the dew, <br>O mountains of my boyhood, I come again to you, <br>By the little path I know, with the sea far below, <br>And above, the great cloud-galleons with their sails of rose and snow </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>As of old, when all was young, and the earth a song unsung <br>And the heather through the crimson dawn its Eden incense flung <br>From the mountain-heights of joy, for a careless-hearted boy, <br>And the lavrocks rose like fountain sprays of bliss that ne’er could cloy, </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>From their little beds of bloom, from the golden gorse and broom, <br>With a song to God the Giver, o’er that waste of wild perfume; <br>Blowing from height to height, in a glory of great light, <br>While the cottage-clustered valleys held the lilac last of night, </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>So, when dawn is in the skies, in a dream, a dream, I rise, <br>And I follow my lost boyhood to the heights of Paradise. <br>Life, thy dawn makes all things new! Hills of Youth, I come to you, <br>Moving through the dew, moving through the dew. </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>II</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>Moving through the dew, moving through the dew, <br>Floats a brother’s face to meet me! Is it you? Is it you? <br>For the night I leave behind keeps these dazzled eyes still blind! <br>But oh, the little hill-flowers, their scent is wise and kind; </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>And I shall not lose the way from the darkness to the day, <br>While dust can cling as their scent clings to memory for aye; <br>And the least link in the chain can recall the whole again, <br>And heaven at last resume its far-flung harvests, grain by grain. </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>To the hill-flowers clings my dust, and tho’ eyeless Death may thrust <br>All else into the darkness, in their heaven I put my trust; <br>And a dawn shall bid me climb to the little spread of thyme <br>Where first I heard the ripple of the fountain-heads of rhyme. </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>And a fir-wood that I know, from dawn to sunset-glow, <br>Shall whisper to a lonely sea, that swings far, far below. <br>Death, thy dawn makes all things new. Hills of Youth, I come to you, <br>Moving through the dew, moving through the dew.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Alfred+Noyes">Alfred Noyes</a><div class=q>
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Moving through the dew, moving through the dew, 
Ere I waken in the city—Life, thy dawn makes all things new! 
And up a fir-clad glen, far from all the haunts of men, 
Up a glen among the mountains, oh my feet are wings again! 


Moving throug..."></div>
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