Click in the field, then press CTRL+C to copy the HTML code
<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=374813" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Splitter</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">IN THE MORN when the keen blade bites the tree,<br>And the chips on the dead leaves dance,<br>And the bush echoes back right merrily<br>Blow for blow as the sunbeams glance<br>From the axe when it sweeps in circles true,<br>Then the splitter at heart is gay;<br>He exults in the work he’s set to do,<br>And he feels like a boy at play.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Swinging free with a stroke that’s straight and strong<br>To the heart of the messmate sent,<br>He is cheered by the magpie’s morning song<br>With the ring of the metal blent,<br>But the birds in their terror scatter high<br>When she falls with a rush and bound,<br>And the quivering saplings split and fly,<br>And the ranges all roar around.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Who is lord when the axeman mounts his spar,<br>And the breeze on his brown breast blows,<br>When the scent of the new wood floats afar,<br>And the gum from its red wounds flows?<br>With the bush at his back he laughs at care,<br>With a pipe and a right good mate—<br>There is drink in the billy, grub to spare,<br>And a bunk in the ten-by-eight.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">When the sun’s in the west, from nooks aloft<br>Where the stringy is straight and tall,<br>Come the strains of a chorus quaint and soft,<br>Or the clink of the wedge and maul;<br>From the gully a murmur of broken talk<br>Or the song that the crosscut sings;<br>For the bush is a-dream, and high the hawk<br>Hangs at rest on his cradling wings.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">But at night, by the tent, when tea is done<br>And when euchre’s begun to flag—<br>In the bush he may hear a distant gun<br>Or the neigh of a lonely nag—<br>Then the splitter has thoughts no longer gay,<br>And sorrows he cannot drown,<br>For he dreams of a girl who’s far away,<br>Or the joys of a spree in town.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Edward+George+Dyson">Edward George Dyson</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=374813" data-title="The Splitter de Edward George Dyson" data-description="IN THE MORN when the keen blade bites the tree,
And the chips on the dead leaves dance,
And the bush echoes back right merrily
Blow for blow as the sunbeams glance
From the axe when it sweeps in circles true,
Then the splitter at heart is gay;
He ..."></div>
</div>
</div>