<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=358456" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>How He Saw Angus, The God</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">I heard the swallow sing in the eaves and rose<br>All in a strange delight while others slept,<br>And down the creaking stair, alone, tip-toes,<br> So carefully I crept.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The house was dark with silly blinds yet drawn,<br>But outside the clean air was filled with light,<br>And underneath my feet the cold, wet lawn<br> With dew was twinkling bright.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The cobwebs hung from every branch and spray<br>Gleaming with pearly strands of laden thread,<br>And long and still the morning shadows lay<br> Across the meadows spread.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">At that pure hour when yet no sound of man,<br>Stirs in the whiteness of the wakening earth,<br>Alone through innocent solitudes I ran<br> Singing aloud for mirth.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Till I had found the open mountain heath<br>Yellow with gorse, and rested there and stood<br>To gaze upon the misty sea beneath,<br> Or on the neighbouring wood,</div><div style="margin:10px 0">—That little wood of hazel and tall pine<br>And youngling fir, where oft we have loved to see<br>The level beams of early morning shine<br> Freshly from tree to tree.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Through the denser wood there's many a pool<br>Of deep and night-born shadow lingers yet<br>Where the new-wakened flowers are damp and cool<br> And the long grass is wet.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">In the sweet heather long I rested there<br>Looking upon the dappled, early sky,<br>When suddenly, from out the shining air<br> A god came flashing by.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Swift, naked, eager, pitilessly fair,<br>With a live crown of birds about his head,<br>Singing and fluttering, and his fiery hair,<br> Far out behind him spread,</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Streamed like a rippling torch upon the breeze<br>Of his own glorious swiftness: in the grass<br>He bruised no feathery stalk, and through the trees<br> I saw his whiteness pass.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">But when I followed him beyond the wood,<br>Lo! He was changed into a solemn bull<br>That there upon the open pasture stood<br> And browsed his lazy full.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Clive+Staples+Lewis">Clive Staples Lewis</a><div class=q> <img src="https://www.citatepedia.ro/g/32share.png" style="float:left" alt="Share"> <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=358456" data-title="How He Saw Angus, The God de Clive Staples Lewis" data-description="I heard the swallow sing in the eaves and rose All in a strange delight while others slept, And down the creaking stair, alone, tip-toes, So carefully I crept. The house was dark with silly blinds yet drawn, But outside the clean air was filled ..."></div> </div> </div>

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