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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=348179" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Frogs</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">I1.<br> Breathers of wisdom won without a quest,<br>.<br> Quaint uncouth dreamers, voices high and strange;<br>.<br> Flutists of lands where beauty hath no change,<br>.<br> And wintry grief is a forgotten guest,<br>.<br> Sweet murmurers of everlasting rest,<br>.<br> For whom glad days have ever yet to run,<br>.<br> And moments are as aeons, and the sun<br>.<br> But ever sunken half-way toward the west.1.<br> Often to me who heard you in your day,<br>.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> With close rapt ears, it could not choose but seem<br>.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> That earth, our mother, searching in what way<br>.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> Men's hearts might know her spirit's inmost-dream;<br>.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> Ever at rest beneath life's change and stir,<br>.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> Made you her soul, and bade you pipe for her.II2.<br> In those mute days when spring was in her glee, <br>.<br> And hope was strong, we knew not why or how, <br>.<br> And earth, the mother, dreamed with brooding brow,<br>.<br> Musing on life, and what the hours might be, <br>.<br> When love should ripen to maternity, <br>.<br> Then like high flutes in silvery interchange <br>.<br> Ye piped with voices still and sweet and strange, <br>.<br> And ever as ye piped, on every tree2.<br> The great buds swelled; among the pensive woods <br>.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> The spirits of first flowers awoke and flung <br>.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> From buried faces the close-fitting hoods, <br>.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> And listened to your piping till they fell, <br>.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> The frail spring-beauty with her perfumed bell, <br>.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> The wind-flower, and the spotted adder-tongue.III3.<br> All the day long, wherever pools might be <br>.<br> Among the golden meadows, where the air <br>.<br> Stood in a dream, as it were moor&egrave;d there <br>.<br> For ever in a noon-tide reverie, <br>.<br> Or where the birds made riot of their glee <br>.<br> In the still woods, and the hot sun shone down, <br>.<br> Crossed with warm lucent shadows on the brown <br>.<br> Leaf-paven pools, that bubbled dreamily, 3.<br> Or far away in whispering river meads <br>.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> And watery marshes where the brooding noon, <br>.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> Full with the wonder of its own sweet boon, <br>.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> Nestled and slept among the noiseless reeds, <br>.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> Ye sat and murmured, motionless as they, <br>.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> With eyes that dreamed beyond the night and day.IV4.<br> And when day passed and over heaven's height,<br>.<br> Thin with the many stars and cool with dew,<br>.<br> The fingers of the deep hours slowly drew<br>.<br> The wonder of the ever-healing night,<br>.<br> No grief or loneliness or rapt delight<br>.<br> Or weight of silence ever brought to you<br>.<br> Slumber or rest; only your voices grew<br>.<br> More high and solemn; slowly with hushed flight4.<br> Ye saw the echoing hours go by, long-drawn,<br>.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> Nor ever stirred, watching with fathomless eyes,<br>.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> And with your countless clear antiphonies<br>.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> Filling the earth and heaven, even till dawn,<br>.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> Last-risen, found you with its first pale gleam,<br>.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> Still with soft throats unaltered in your dream.V5.<br> And slowly as we heard you, day by day, <br>.<br> The stillness of enchanted reveries <br>.<br> Bound brain and spirit and half-clos&egrave;d eyes, <br>.<br> In some divine sweet wonder-dream astray; <br>.<br> To us no sorrow or upreared dismay <br>.<br> Nor any discord came, but evermore <br>.<br> The voices of mankind, the outer roar, <br>.<br> Grew strange and murmurous, faint and far away. 5.<br> Morning and noon and midnight exquisitely, <br>.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> Rapt with your voices, this alone we knew, <br>.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> Cities might change and fall, and men might die, <br>.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> Secure were we, content to dream with you <br>.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> That change and pain are shadows faint and fleet, <br>.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> And dreams are real, and life is only sweet.</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=348179" data-title="The Frogs de Archibald Lampman" data-description="I1.
 Breathers of wisdom won without a quest,
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 Quaint uncouth dreamers, voices high and strange;
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 Flutists of lands where beauty hath no change,
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 And wintry grief is a forgotten guest,
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 Sweet murmurers of everlasting rest,
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 For whom glad..."></div>
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