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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=354047" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Winter’s Walk</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">MARK'D--as the hours should be, Fate bids us spend <br>With one illustrious, or a cherish'd friend-- <br>Rich in the value of that double claim, <br>Since Fame allots the friend a Poet's name,-- <br>My 'Winter's Walk' asserts its right to live <br>Amongst the brightest thoughts my life can give, <br>And leaves a track of light on Memory's way <br>Which oft shall gild the future Summer's day. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Gleam'd the red sun athwart the misty haze <br>Which veil'd the cold earth from its loving gaze, <br>Feeble and sad as Hope in Sorrow's hour, <br>But for THY soul it still had warmth and power; <br>Not to its cheerless beauty wert thou blind, <br>To the keen eye of thy poetic mind </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Beauty still lives, tho' nature's flow'rets die, <br>And wintry sunsets fade along the sky! <br>And nought escaped thee as we stroll'd along, <br>Nor changeful ray, nor bird's faint chirping song; <br>Bless'd with a fancy easily inspired, <br>All was beheld, and nothing unadmired; <br>Not one of all God's blessings giv'n in vain, <br>From the dim city to the clouded plain. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">And many an anecdote of other times,-- <br>Good earnest deeds,--quaint wit,--and polished rhymes,-- <br>Many a sweet story of remembered years <br>Which thrilled the listening heart with unshed tears,-- <br>Unweariedly thy willing tongue rehearsed, <br>And made the hour seem brief as we conversed. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Ah! who can e'er forget, who once hath heard, <br>The gentle charm that dwells in every word <br>Of thy calm converse? In its kind allied <br>To some fair river's bright abundant tide, <br>Whose silver gushing current onward goes, <br>Fluent and varying; yet with such repose </div><div style="margin:10px 0">As smiles even through the flashings of thy wit, <br>In every eddy that doth ruffle it. <br>Who can forget, who at thy social board <br>Hath sat,--and seen the pictures richly stored, <br>In all their tints of glory and of gloom, <br>Brightening the precincts of thy quiet room; <br>With busts and statues fall of that deep grace <br>Which modern hands have lost the skill to trace, <br>(Fragments of beauty--perfect as thy song <br>On that sweet land to which they did belong,) <br>Th' exact and classic taste bv thee displayed; <br>Not with a rich man's idle fond parade, <br>Not with the pomp of some vain connoisseur <br>Proud of his bargains, of his judgment sure, <br>But with the feelings kind and sad, of one <br>Who thro' far countries wandering hath gone, <br>And brought away dear keepsakes, to remind <br>His heart and home of all he left behind. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">But wherefore these, in feeble rhyme recal? <br>Thy taste, thy wit, thy verse, are known to all; <br>Such things are for the World, and therefore doth <br>The World speak of them; loud, and nothing loth </div><div style="margin:10px 0">To fancy that the talent stamped by Heaven <br>Is nought unless their echoed praise be given, <br>A worthless ore not yet allowed to shine, <br>A diamond darkly buried in its mine. <br>These are thy daylight qualities, whereon <br>Beams the full lustre of their garish sun, <br>And the keen point of many a famed reply <br>Is what they would not 'willingly let die.' <br>But by a holier light thy angel reads <br>The unseen records of more gentle deeds,-- <br>And by a holier light thy angel sees <br>The tear oft shed for humble miseries,-- <br>The alms dropp'd gently in the beggar's hand, <br>(Who in his daily poverty doth stand <br>Watching for kindness on thy pale calm brow, <br>Ignorant to whom he breathes his grateful vow). <br>Th' indulgent hour of kindness stol'n away <br>From the free leisure of thy well-spent day, <br>For some poor struggling Son of Genius, bent <br>Under the weight of heart-sick discontent; <br>Whose prayer thou hearest, mindful of the schemes <br>Of thine own youth;--the hopes, the fever-dreams <br>Of Fame and Glory which seemed hovering then, <br>(Nor only seemed) upon thy magic pen; </div><div style="margin:10px 0">And measuring not how much beneath thine own <br>Is the sick mind thus pining to be known, <br>But only what a wealth of hope lies hushed <br>As in a grave,--when men like these are crushed! </div><div style="margin:10px 0">And by that light's soft radiance I review <br>Thy unpretending kindness, calm and true, <br>Not to me only,--but in bitterest hours <br>To one whom Heaven endowed with varied powers; <br>To one who died, e'er yet my childish heart <br>Knew what Fame meant, or Slander's fabled dart! <br>Then was the laurel green upon his brow, <br>And they could flatter then, who judge him now; <br>Who, when the fickle breath of fortune changed, <br>With equal falsehood held their love estranged; <br>Nay, like mean wolves, from whelp-hood vainly nurst, <br>Tore at the easy hand that fed them first. <br>Not so didst THOU the ties of friendship break-- <br>Not so didst THOU the saddened man forsake; <br>And when at length he laid his dying head <br>On the hard rest of his neglected bed, <br>He found,--(tho' few or none around him came <br>Whom he had toiled for in his hour of Fame;-- </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Though by his Prince, unroyally forgot, <br>And left to struggle with his altered lot;--) <br>By sorrow weakened,--by disease unnerved,-- <br>Faithful at least the friend he had not served: <br>For the same voice essayed that hour to cheer, <br>Which now sounds welcome to his grandchild's ear; <br>And the same hand, to aid that Life's decline, <br>Whose gentle clasp so late was linked in mine!</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Caroline+Elizabeth+Sarah+Norton">Caroline Elizabeth Sarah Norton</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=354047" data-title="The Winter’s Walk de Caroline Elizabeth Sarah Norton" data-description="MARK'D--as the hours should be, Fate bids us spend 
With one illustrious, or a cherish'd friend-- 
Rich in the value of that double claim, 
Since Fame allots the friend a Poet's name,-- 
My 'Winter's Walk' asserts its right to live 
Amongst the br..."></div>
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