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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=348112" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Comfort of the Fields</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">What would'st thou have for easement after grief, <br> When the rude world hath used thee with despite,<br> And care sits at thine elbow day and night,<br> Filching thy pleasures like a subtle thief?<br> To me, when life besets me in such wise,<br> 'Tis sweetest to break forth, to drop the chain,<br> And grasp the freedom of this pleasant earth,<br> To roam in idleness and sober mirth, <br> Through summer airs and summer lands, and drain <br> The comfort of wide fields unto tired eyes.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> By hills and waters, farms and solitudes,<br> To wander by the day with wilful feet;<br> Through fielded valleys wide with yellowing wheat;<br> Along gray roads that run between deep woods,<br> Murmurous and cool; through hallowed slopes of pine,<br> Where the long daylight dreams, unpierced, unstirred,<br> And only the rich-throated thrush is heard;<br> By lonely forest brooks that froth and shine<br> In bouldered crannies buried in the hills;<br> By broken beeches tangled with wild vine,<br> And long-strewn rivers murmurous with mills.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> In upland pastures, sown with gold, and sweet<br> With the keen perfume of the ripening grass,<br> Where wings of birds and filmy shadows pass,<br> Spread thick as stars with shining marguerite:<br> To haunt old fences overgrown with brier,<br> Muffled in vines, and hawthorns, and wild cherries,<br> Rank poisonous ivies, red-bunched elder-berries,<br> And pi&egrave;d blossoms to the heart's desire,<br> Gray mullein towering into yellow bloom,<br> Pink-tasseled milkweed, breathing dense perfume, <br> And swarthy vervain, tipped with violet fire.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> To hear at eve the bleating of far flocks,<br> The mud-hen's whistle from the marsh at morn;<br> To skirt with deafened ears and brain o'erborne<br> Some foam-filled rapid charging down its rocks<br> With iron roar of waters; far away<br> Across wide-reeded meres, pensive with noon,<br> To hear the querulous outcry of the loon;<br> To lie among deep rocks, and watch all day<br> On liquid heights the snowy clouds melt by;<br> Or hear from wood-capped mountain-brows the jay<br> Pierce the bright morning with his jibing cry.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> To feast on summer sounds; the jolted wains,<br> The thresher humming from the farm near by,<br> The prattling cricket's intermittent cry,<br> The locust's rattle from the sultry lanes;<br> Or in the shadow of some oaken spray,<br> To watch, as through a mist of light and dreams,<br> The far-off hayfields, where the dusty teams<br> Drive round and round the lessening squares of hay,<br> And hear upon the wind, now loud, now low,<br> With drowsy cadence half a summer's day,<br> The clatter of the reapers come and go.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> Far violet hills, horizons filmed with showers,<br> The murmur of cool streams, the forest's gloom,<br> The voices of the breathing grass, the hum<br> Of ancient gardens overbanked with flowers:<br> Thus, with a smile as golden as the dawn,<br> And cool fair fingers radiantly divine,<br> The mighty mother brings us in her hand,<br> For all tired eyes and foreheads pinched and wan,<br> Her restful cup, her beaker of bright wine:<br> Drink, and be filled, and ye shall understand!</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Archibald+Lampman">Archibald Lampman</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=348112" data-title="Comfort of the Fields de Archibald Lampman" data-description="What would'st thou have for easement after grief, 
 When the rude world hath used thee with despite,
 And care sits at thine elbow day and night,
 Filching thy pleasures like a subtle thief?
 To me, when life besets me in such wise,
 'Tis sweetest..."></div>
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